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ghostly-wisp · 1 year

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MR. LOVERMAN

Chapter 5

chapter 4 | chapter 6 | series masterlist | page masterlist

warnings — strong language

The weekend didn't give Pedro nearly enough time to process what happened—however, life moves on. He can't not show up to work because of romance troubles amongst staff, though he certainly thought about it.

Pedro wonders if seeing you would bring up any emotions; he hopes not but knows that realistically they will. He had a panic attack in your classroom because he told you he's scared to have a crush on you—that's not something you get over in just two days. He figures he just has to avoid your gaze and stay in his room while you're in the hallway; it's not like he wasn't doing that anyway.

He hopes you try talking to him, though. He's curious to know if your relationship was on the mend, or if he lost you. He hopes he didn't, but he understands if he did.

He's walking down the quiet, empty hallways of the school. He loves when the school is like this—empty, and quiet, with no students, and most of the staff isn't there. It feels nice not having to keep a smile on his face and act like all is fine for once. Even if it's for a short period of time. Shorter than he had hoped because he heard his name being called from down the hall. He lets himself get his hopes up, that it's you, and the two of you would walk to your respective classrooms like nothing ever happened. Though nothing in life is that simple, and when he turns, he sees Jenny rushing to catch up with him. He forces a smile, “Hi, Jen. He says once she caught up, you feelin' okay?”

She pants, “Yeah,” she stands normally in front of him. “How are you? I heard that there's some…problems–” she's not sure how to word it, and Pedro doesn't want to talk about it in the middle of the hallway. “I'm fine.” he says, “No problems.” Honestly the fact that it was going around the school already – like you and Pedro were some sort of object to be observed by everyone else, and for her to confront him about it in the middle of the hall. He thinks back to something you told him when you first met – sometimes we’re no better than the students – Jenny hums, “That's good, I’m glad.” She fixes her bag over her shoulder before she speaks again. “Can I ask you a favor? I have a shit ton of art supplies in my car that I need to get into my classroom. It would take me so long if I do it alone, could you help me out?” He hesitates, but he thinks that perhaps he judges Jenny too soon. “Sure,” he says, “Let me put my stuff in my room and I’ll be right back down.”

That was only the beginning.

Pedro found himself in situations more often with Jenny around, she would come to his room for lunch, they could talk comfortably about problems. Jenny is very nice – but she's not you. He can’t get past that, no matter how hard she tries. The two of them hang out after school sometimes and she always sits herself just a hair too close to him, he never says anything. He just silently allows it, because he thinks that maybe this is the way to get over you. He thinks that if he moves on that all his problems will wash away. Maybe you don’t even notice what's going on.

You definitely notice, though.

The way Jennys hand lingers on his arm for too long, the way he goes quiet when you enter the room. You see her going into his room every day during lunch and leaving just before the students come back, you’re not stupid. She’s liked him from the very beginning, and you’re out of the picture. It was only a matter of time before this happened, still, it hurt like hell.

He was never yours, you were never his – but still, you liked to think about what could’ve been, maybe you were too harsh, or things were moving too fast. What's stopping you from being friends with him? He was still so valuable to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to walk across the hall to see him. Even if you did, you knew Jenny would be there, and you really didn’t want to see her.

You had no reason to be mad at her in this situation, really, she saw an opportunity and she took it. You would’ve done the same thing if the roles were reversed. He was just a stupid guy that you were getting worked up about, like some teenager who watched her crush get with someone else. Still, you wonder if he even thinks about you anymore, if he wonders how you are, if even for a moment he thinks about coming into your classroom too. Sam notices you staring in the direction of his classroom for a second too long, and snaps their fingers to bring your attention back. “Y/N!”

“Sorry,” you say, turning your chair to face them again. “What were you talking about?” Sam only gives you a blank face, putting their lunch down on the end of your desk. “Y/N, you have to get over him.” They say it like it's so simple, and this, admittedly, annoys you just a little. “It's not that simple, it's like if I told you to get over Jae.”

“It is absolutely not the same thing!”

“How?!”

“Jae and I have been married. For three years!”

You scowl, they have a point there, but still, you put the rest of the food in your mini fridge. You decide to take the rest of the conversation back to Pedro. “It's just hard, you know, I’m not just losing the guy I had a crush on, I’m losing a friend.” To that, Sam feels for you. You had been there when Sam was going through their men, too, they know how it feels. “I know,” they say quietly. “But you know, maybe this is for the best. He’s a bundle of hurt, a package you don’t need right now.” Still, you can’t help but think about what could’ve been.

It could’ve been you, Pedro, and Sam. Laughing and making stupid jokes. It could’ve been you and Pedro hanging out at his apartment watching stupid movies, talking about your day, students.

It’s not that you don’t value your time with Sam, you love them dearly. It's just that, you missed that extra presence, you missed the new person in your circle. Now you don’t have that, and you know the other teachers know what happened. Because they give you this sympathetic look when they ask how you are, and they suck their breath in whenever Pedro’s nearby. For teachers, they’re not very discreet people. They treat you now like even saying his name will cause you to burst, you hate it. You just want things back to normal, sometimes you wished that Pedro never came here. It would be easier if he just never moved into your district, never into the classroom across from you. Life would be easier if he just asked someone else for help on printing things, it wouldn’t be as fun though. Maybe it's your age, if you're older this could’ve worked. Or like Pedro said, if you met sooner.

“Still.” you say in response to Sam, “It hurts, but I’ll get over it you just have to give me time.”

Jenny invites Pedro over on friday night, and he accepts the offer, it beats sitting in his apartment alone. They don’t do much, or talk about a lot, they just sit and watch Young Sheldon – which wouldn’t be his first choice, but it was the only thing that was on that they could agree on.

She’s almost on top of him, their legs touching, and she's leaning awfully close to him. Still, he doesn’t say anything, he places his arms across the top of the couch – almost welcoming it in. When it cuts to commercial, she finally speaks. “I would hate to have a student like him.” Pedro raises his eyebrows, “Really? I think it would be interesting, hearing what he has to say. I guess he is condescending, though.” he replies, “I don’t necessarily want to say I would hate to have a student that acts a certain way, he clearly doesn’t see how he's hurting their feelings.” She shrugs, slowly pushing herself away from him to get up. “Still. I would’ve gotten so frustrated.”

“Well,” he smiles, to show that he teases. “Good thing you’re an art teacher. I would be screwed. Science n’ all.” Jenny nods, “I guess so.. I’m going to get a glass of water, do you want any?”

He shakes his head, “I’m good.” and when she disappears into the kitchen – he can’t help but glance around. He notices a few things, a coloring book on her glass coffee table, a stack of student artwork that he assumes is to-be-graded, and lastly, a staff photo that was taken just a year before he started working at the school.

He gently picks it up, looking around at the familiar faces. But his eyes are drawn to you.

You're smiling widely, you and Sam have your arms around each other, the top you’re wearing looks nice on you, and he knows he's seen it on you a couple times. His heart pangs a bit, he misses you. No matter how much time he spends here, he can't deny that. He notices the dip in the couch from Jenny placing herself next to him, just as close as before. “I look so stupid in that photo,” she laughs, assuming that he was looking at her. He quickly scans for her to avoid making this awkward. Jenny sticks out like a sore thumb, she's in the front of the stand and she wasn’t ready for the photo because she was barely in her spot. “I was the one taking the photo, so I had to rush into the spot.”

He hums, “You look fine.”

Just fine she thinks, but she’ll take it. “So, I heard Y/N and Sam talking today, they were talking about you a lot.” This gets his attention, a lot more than what she had hoped for when she brought up the conversation. She hates the hold you still have him, she just wishes you could fucking let go already. He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “Sam was tellin’ her that she needs to get over you, that you’re not worth all this time.”

That alone fills Pedro’s heart with this excitement, this sense of hope that he needed – but he's careful not to show it. He sucks in a breath, putting the photo down, he feels her hand slowly slide up his hand. This is the first time she actually physically touched him. He tenses at the touch, not expecting it. “If you ask me, she ought to let this go at some point. You know, she can be such a bitch. I mean she made you feel like shit and now she wants to act like–”

He isn’t sure what it is, but he feels an anger bubble inside him, and he whips around, lightly smacking her hand off of him. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that.” he didn’t realize he raised his voice, his nostrils flare and he glares at her. This surprises her, her jaw is slack and her eyebrows raise slightly. Normally, Pedro would apologize for raising his voice in such a manner, but he doesn’t. “She didn’t hurt you. You have no fuckin’ right to talk about her like that.”

You’re in your apartment, you've got your headphones in listening to You’re On Your Own, Kid, by Taylor Swift. Cleaning up around your kitchen. Your music goes quiet in your headphones, and you notice an incoming call from Pedro. You pause, you even feel your body freeze unsure what to do. If Sam were here, they would advise you not to answer it, but then you think – what if it’s an emergency? If it's an emergency – why doesn’t he just call Jenny?

The pair stare at each other for a moment, and suddenly he stands. She doesn’t protest him, her eyes just follow his movements as he frantically looks for and grabs his coat, throwing it on. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he says quietly, “but I think I should get going now.”

But then your heart pangs, if he isn’t calling Jenny, maybe it's because he thought of you first. You disconnect your headphones and slide the green button.

“Hello?”

TAGLIST (IM SORRY FOR THE DOUBLE TAG!! THIS IS A REPOST!!)

@djarinsstuff @doodlebob-mp3

@wanniiieeee @zeyzeys-stuff @jay1bird23 @corpsebridenightamare @queerponcho

@peqchsoup @surazim @melanie451 @krisviciousx @elliescumsl0t @theanxietyqueen17 @vasiliki-koshka

@figusquibis @lothirielcorleon @maybedisaster @kpicard @becca193 @themusingkitten @caravelofthesun @coldheartedmar

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magicspace114 · 4 months

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New Guardians part 4

You think you've made progress with Tillen. She doesn't hate you now. In fact, you think she's actually starting to care for you. She was anxiously pacing as your mother saw to your injury. She'd already built a nest and put Toby and Lovik in it. The pair huddled together, Toby eventually falling asleep and Lovik blinked out of sync as he fought to stay awake. Tillen never settled, glancing at you every time you hissed in pain.

It was basically a large burn. It wasn't the shoot-a-gaping-hole-through-your-chest laser. Still, it wasn't just a little singe. The skin had turned pale and was starting to blister. It hurt every time your mother touched it but she had to apply ointment.

"How long will it take to heal?" Tillen asked.

"Can't say for sure," your mother said, "it can be a week or maybe three."

"I don't know what weeks are."

"7 days," you said, "I'll be fine."

"As long as you don't aggravate your injury." Your mother said sternly.

You went quiet while your mother continued to care for your wound. It was a rather large burn and your mother had made you take your shirt off so she could tend to it, meaning your brother and father were not allowed in the room.

Without your shirt, Tillen could see more scars on your body. You could feel her eyes linger on the largest one that ran from the top of your left shoulder, diagonally down to your mid back on your right side. It was still red and raised like you'd got it recently.

"What are you thinking about, Tills?" You asked, not looking round at her.

Tillen paused at the nickname but having heard one already with Toby, she didn't dwell on it. "That's a back stab. Right?" She asked.

You nodded. "Yeah, it's an old one now."

"Was it that man who broke into your home?"

"Yeah, Freddy." You said, "he uh..."

"Got angry?" Tillen asked, clearly remembering what you'd said about him. Your mother silently nodded while continuing her work.

"He gambled money, he lost it. He took it out on me." You said shortly, not really wanting to explain it.

"Neighbours called the police about the screaming." Your mother said, "that was the last time she lived in the same place as him."

"Did he suffer for it?" Tillen crept closer, her tail swishing in agitation.

"I dropped the charges," you said, "I wasn't in the best place to pursue the issue with the law. Living under him, I didn't have the strength to fight back at the time. I'm better now though."

"Her brother and father paid him a visit after she'd moved back in with us," your mother said, "so he didn't get away unharmed."

Tillen hissed lowly, "but not as hurt as her."

"Correct," your mother nodded.

You just smiled at the pair, "oh, he will be soon. Once they find him again. I know I'm back to fighting strength."

"You're not fighting anybody, little missy." Your mother said.

"What?! Not even to knock him out?!" You huffed, "I think I'm entitled, it's me he kept harassing. Do you know that idiot thought that because I dropped the charges that meant I was still interested in him?"

"You need rest." Your mother said, wrapping your shoulder in dressing, "I trust that Tillen will make sure you stay in bed." She looked at the alien expectantly.

Tillen seemed a little surprised to be given the task but gladly accepted, "definitely. I'll take care of her."

Your mother smiled at her, "be careful, she's a slippery one when she wants to be."

"No more slippery than my younger siblings after bedtime," Tillen's tail wagged as she guided you to the nest with Toby and Lovik.

"Is this you starting to like me, Tills?" You grinned.

Tillen twittered scoldingly at you, "absolutely not." She wrapped you carefully in blankets, padding up your injured shoulder and immobilising you.

Your mother just smiled, watching Tillen's rather practised ease at settling you to the point that you started getting tired. The warmth from the nest and the warm bodies inside made you want to drift off. Toby rolled over and onto you which made you glad that Tillen padded up your shoulder so well. You curled an arm around Toby, closing your eyes.

As your mind faded, you could hear your mother talking lowly and Tillen's melodic twitter respond to her. Toby's sleepy bleats made you smile as you rather quickly fell asleep.

< Previous

#writing #creative writing #humans and aliens #protective human #protective aliens #@ixylle-d-from-the-stars #honestly your art inspired me to make this part

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themultifandomgal · 11 months

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Cillian Murphy- Insecurities

Trigger warnings- talks about anorexia, divorce and online bullying

I meet Cillian when I joined season 4 of Peaky Blinders, I was to be Tommy Shelbys new love interest. However during this time it came out that Cillian was divorced and I was the one to blame, although they had divorced a year before I had even met Cillian. The hate I received was unbelievable, I was called a home wrecker, I was told to harm myself, told I was nothing but a gold digger so many nasty things, and since I'm 15 years younger it was worse. For Cillian this was such a hard time because he is such a privet person, but like always the hate died down. It's been a few years now and Cillian and I promoting our newest film together Oppenheimer. However the news about me being in this film had mix reviews, most positive, but there's still a handful of people who believe that I'm the cause of his divorce. I was recently added into a group chat on Twitter where they criticised my body, my acting, my relationship. This made me question a lot of this and I definitely became insecure.

Before Cillian and I met I was anorexic and when we did meet it was when I was better, although he knows all about that and has helped me through some dark moments I still have days where I feel like I could go back to my old days. Things have gotten so bad I have deleted all of my social medias. I'm curled up in mine and Cillian bed crying after looking at myself in the mirror for the last 20 minutes when the door opens

"Babe have you seen... what's wrong? Are you hurt? Feel ill?"

"I'm fine"

"You obviously aren't because your crying so come on tell me"

"Honestly Cil I'm just being stupid"

"Never stupid. Tell my what's going on in that head of yours" Cillian moves a stray hair from my face then moves to caress my check. I sigh leaning into his touch

"It's just other girls are much prettier than me. You could literally have anyone in the world but you chose me, I don't understand why. I'm 15 years younger, I'm in my 20s so my do you want me?"

"Babe come here" I sit up and scoot over to Cillian who wraps me up in his arms "I love you and only you. Your beautiful inside and out, don't listen to what other people say, because I know you do, stop looking at the news. As for your age, it's just a number we're both adults and can do whatever we want, within reason, you've got to stop letting other peoples words cloud your own judgment. This is why I stay offline"

"Yeah Will I deleted all my social the other week"

"I know you though YN, and I know that you will still search for yourself to see what people are saying about you"

"I just hate feeling like this, hate feeling so insecure"

"I know baby I hate seeing you hate yourself when all I see is perfection. What can I do to help?" I shrug my shoulders not really knowing what anyone could do "what about speaking to your therapist. Maybe they could give you some advice" Cillian suggests

"Yeah maybe"

"YN I love you so much and I will tell you everyday how beautiful you are and how much I love you" Cillian leans down and kisses my lips "I'll make sure to tell you how important you are to not only me but everyone around you. This hate will go away, or at least you won't see it"

"I love you too" I smile at him glad I have him in my life "what was it you were looking for?"

"Huh?"

"You came in about to ask me where something was"

"Oh. I was just wondering if you knew where my hoodie was but I think I've found it" I giggle pulling the sleeves down and snuggling into Cillian more. Things will be ok soon.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader

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yusuke-of-valla · 8 months

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Whumptober Day 4: Fun Uncles

AO3

Written for the prompt: Shock

Nineteen years ago…

When the last mourner leaves there’s an air of finality. Like now that they’ve finished with the funeral, Dad is really dead.

Zenkichi, Tsuru, and Mom all just sort of sit around the family room, not saying anything, until someone’s stomach growls.

“Tsuru, could you please make some dinner?” Mom asks.

Tsuru wordlessly gets up and heads into the kitchen, but soon enough there’s a loud crash and the sound of plates breaking.

“Damn it, Tsuru!” Mom snaps, and Zenkichi follows her into the kitchen, where Tsuru’s standing, surrounded by shards of ceramic.

“Sorry, I was just—”

“I don’t want to hear it! Go grab something to clean this up.”

Tsuru hangs her head and runs out.

“That girl, she doesn’t know how lucky she is, beautiful, never has to worry about her weight, if she could be bothered to behave properly men would be lining up to marry her,” Mom huffs. “Couldn’t even wear proper clothes throughout the whole ceremony.”

“Mom, it’s hot out. You know Tsuru doesn’t do too well in the heat, especially not decked head to toe in black. Dad certainly wouldn’t want her collapsing from heatstroke just because of him.”

“Even more reason she should focus on being a proper housewife! She can’t even go out, so she could damn well learn to keep house.”

“Ok, ok, I think we’re all tired,” Zenkichi says. “How about we just call Oishi’s and get some food delivered. One less thing to worry about.”

Tsuru comes back in with a broom.

“You’re bleeding,” Zenkichi says as Mom snatches the broom out of Tsuru’s hands.

She starts sweeping the mess, and Zenkichi pulls Tsuru into the bathroom where they keep their first aid kit.

“I can do it, it’s not that deep,” Tsuru mumbles.

“Eh, come on, let me do it.”

“How mad is Mom?”

“She’s stressed.”

“Sure, but how mad is she at me?”

“Look, it’s been a long day, she’ll be over it in the morning. We’re gonna call Oishi’s and get some delivery.”

“Can we go pick it up?” Tsuru asks. “When you leave, I won’t have anyone to go out with, might as well spend as much time as I can outside of this place.”

“Why don’t you ask mom? Or one of your friends, didn’t you mention—”

“She doesn’t know about them,” Tsuru says, “for a reason.”

“Tsuru, you’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m not. She’s worse when you’re not here.” Tsuru sighs. “Hurry up and get a job already so I can move in with you in Tokyo.”

“I still have five more months of training at the police academy. I might not even be stationed in Tokyo, you know.”

“I don’t care. Anywhere is better than here. Anyone is better than her.”

“She’s our Mom.”

“She sure doesn’t act like it.”

“You know she’s only like this because she’s worried about you, right? Now that Dad’s dead, she’s worried no one will take care of you if she dies.”

“Won’t you be around?”

“Well, you know how she is, she thinks that when I’m a family man, I’m not going to have time to look after my baby sister.

Tsuru kicks him. “I’m not a baby, dummy.”

“Sure sound like one, calling people dummy.”

Tsuru cracks a smile for the first time since Zenkichi came home for the funeral. “I guess if three years difference makes me a baby, you can carry me all the way to Oishi’s.”

“Yeah, no.”

“Come on!”

“No.”

Present

According to the forecast, the day they leave Sapporo is the hottest of the summer, and Yusuke can definitely feel that.

He feels like he’s wading through soup with all the humidity.

“Yusuke? Are you alright?” Morgana asks while they pack up.

“The heat,” Yusuke says. “And I’m sore from our fight with Shadow Mariko yesterday.” His neck and shoulders hurt, but they’re nothing compared to the pressure in his chest.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit then,” Haru says.

“I don’t want—“

“Nah dude don’t give us any of that ‘I don’t want to be an inconvenience’ crap,” Ryuji says, “rest a bit, we don’t mind.”

Yusuke’s too tired to insist otherwise, so goes to sit on the bench.

He sees Inspector head over to them.

“You kids almost ready?” he asks, but strangely it’s being drowned out by the ringing in Yusuke’s ears. Everything sounds vague and distant, and he can’t follow the conversation at all.

Then Inspector Hasegawa seems to nice him and the Inspector’s immediately concerned

He opens his mouth to say something that’s probably “Kitagawa?!” but Yusuke can’t hear it specifically because he’s too focused on the way everything’s spinning.

“Niijima, call an ambulance. Sakamoto, help me lie him on the ground,” Zenkichi says.

“Wh-what’s—” Niijima stammers but Zenkichi doesn’t have time for this.

Sakamoto helps him lay Kitagawa on the ground. “Good, now raise his feet slightly above his head,” Zenkichi instructs.

“Ok.” Sakamoto does, and there’s a small crowd coming to the scene, but Zenkichi doesn’t even have to tell Amamiya to keep them away.

Kitagawa still isn’t responsive, but starts taking gasping breaths that are fewer and farther between, so Zenkichi moves to perform CPR.

Old habits really do die hard. It’s been years since Zenkichi spent his summers taking CPR training, but his hands move on his own at the right rhythm.

He feels Kitagwa’s ribs cracks, and Sakamoto winces in sympathy, but Zenkichi isn’t bothered. He keeps going until Kitagawa’s eyes flutter open, just as the ambulance arrives.

Zenkichi follows the paramedics, who give him a questioning look, but Zenkichi doesn’t want to bother with it.

“I’m his uncle.”

The paramedic nods and lets him in.

Eighteen years ago…

There’s an inexplicable feeling of dread when Zenkichi comes home. No movement, not from Tsuru in her art room nor Mom in the living room.

His visit home was supposed to be a surprise, but he didn’t expect them to be out.

After waiting a second, Zenkichi grabs his gun before heading inside.

He feels some sort of relief when he realizes the door is still locked and has no sign of being forced open.

Unfortunately, he relaxed too soon.

Because when he enters, he sees his mother’s cold, dead, body at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by days-old dry blood.

Zenkichi wants to scream, cry, and throw up all at once.

Instead he runs upstairs to check Tsuru’s room.

It’s completely empty, but there are signs of a fight with broken canvases and paint cans that look kicked over. Normally, Tsuru’s window is always locked, but now it’s wide open and there’s the remnants of what looks like a sheet tied to the table.

Other than that, there’s no sign of Tsuru in the house.

Present

There’s a whirr of activity that eventually settles with Zenkichi sitting in the hospital room with Kitagawa.

A doctor comes in. “Hello, you’re his uncle?” she asks. “Have you contacted his parents?”

“No, they passed away,” Zenkichi says. “But I’m responsible for him at the moment.”

“Do you have his medical information?”

“No, but his mother suffered from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”

“Of course, probably complications from the heat. Make sure he’s rested and hydrated and doesn’t stay outside for too long. You administered CPR?”

“Yes.”

“You did a good job. Cracking the ribs is a normal occurrence so I don’t want you to think—”

“I know, I did it to his mother too,” Zenkichi admits. He’d been absolutely panicked when she collapsed during a school picnic and spent the whole time inconsolable until his father explained he hadn’t made it worse.

“Ah, well I just didn’t want you worrying you did something wrong. You saved his life.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Do you know of any medications he’s taking?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’d like to keep him for a bit just to make sure there’s no complications. I’m sure you’ve noticed but he’s severely underweight and suffering from anemia. We might end up keeping him overnight.”

“Alright, thank you.”

The doctor leaves and Zenkichi practically collapses into the nearest chair.

God, he’s more exhausted than he’s been in a long time. They’ll probably end up staying in Sapporo an extra day and—

Oh. Oh no.

Zenkichi pulls out his phone and calls Akane.

“Where are you?” Akane asks as soon as the phone picks up.

Zenkichi sighs. “Look, I’m not going to be home tonight.”

“WHAT?! What are you doing?!”

“I’m sorry! I don’t want to do this, but your cousin had a heart attack.”

“Huh? Grandma and Grandpa didn’t—”

“No, on my side of the family. My sister’s son.”

“Are you serious? You can’t come up with a better lie?! You only mention your sister sometimes and I sure as hell haven’t met her.”

“It’s really, really complicated. I promise I’ll explain tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever. See you.” The line clicks, and Zenkichi throws his head back. Why is his life like this?

“Is that your daughter?”

Zenkichi snaps his head up, and Kitagwa’s awake.

“Kitagawa!”

“Lying to the hospital is one thing,” Kitagawa says, “but there’s no need to lie to your daughter for my sake.”

It’s funny that for all Kitagawa inherits from his father, he makes the exact same look as Tsuru did when she caught Zenkichi in a lie.

Daring him to try and dig himself deeper.

“Er, right.” Zenkichi scratches his head. “Look, Kitagawa. I wasn’t… exactly lying.”

“So what you told the doctor was true? You’re my uncle?”

“You’ve been listening in that long, huh?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

The way Kitagwa’s glaring at him, Zenkichi feels a pang of nostalgia. Honestly, it’s been so long, he even misses Tsuru being mad at him. “I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know the right time. It’s not like I can just walk up to someone I’m investigating and say ‘hey, I’m your long lost uncle!’”

“Are we still just people you’re investigating at this point?”

“Well…”

Kitagawa’s frown gets deeper. “Fine. Did you know my mother died? Why did you never come to pay your respects?”

“That’s… I didn’t think she’d want me there. Or to have anything to do with you,” Zenkichi says.

“Then tell me why. I think you owe me that, at least.”

Zenkichi takes a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Eighteen years ago…

Zenkichi hasn’t slept in weeks. If he’s right, he’s tracked Tsuru to Tokyo of all places. Supposedly someone’s seen her working at this ramen shop, so Zenkichi settles in to a seat by the door, and waits all day.

His tab is pretty expensive by the time Tsuru shows up, slipping in discreetly by the back and relieving a stressed-out high school student. She goes to talk with the owner and locks eyes with Zenkichi.

They stare at each other across the shop for a second, before Tsuru whispers something quickly to the owner, clearly apologizing, then heads over to Zenkichi.

“Let’s go outside,” she says, and Zenkichi lets her lead the way out.

They go around back, and the second they’re out of sight of any cameras, Zenkichi pulls her into a hug.

“Are you ok? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Tsuru blinks at him. “W-wow, I thought you’d open with yelling.”

“Who’s behind this? The owner?”

“W-what? No, behind what?”

“Who kidnapped you?”

Tsuru groans. “Oh, ok is that how Mom’s dealing with it? Of course not, it’s never her fault.”

“Tsuru, Mom’s dead.”

Tsuru’s face goes pale. “W-what? W-what happened?”

“Blunt force trauma to the back of the head, what do you mean ‘that’s how she’s dealing with it?’”

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Tsuru says. “I ran away.”

Zenkichi feels his eye twitch. “What?”

“I ran away.”

“What do you mean you ran away?”

“I couldn’t stay in that house anymore, so I ran away.”

“On your own?! Tsuru, do you know how worried I’ve been?! Of all the stupid little—”

“Stupid?! Are you kidding me, I tried to tell you so many times, but you never believed me?”

“What about the canvases then?”

“Mom broke them! She’s been breaking them for years when she’s mad at me!” Tsuru snaps. “And I could never bear to throw them out, so I kept them and left them in my room so she’d remember why I left!”

“I thought someone had broken into your room because you felt like being dramatic?”

“Gah! This is why I didn’t talk to you!”

“Tsuru I haven’t slept in weeks trying to investigate your disappearance and mom’s death.” Suddenly Zenkichi stops, and he steps back from her. “...did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Did you kill Mom?”

“What? Have you gone crazy?”

“You had a fight, you pushed her down the stairs, and then you panicked.”

“First of all, that’d have to be a pretty hefty shove, and as you’ll remember I can barely throw a ball 30cm. All my life it’s been ‘oh no Tsurur you’re too small for that, yu’re too weak for that, you can’t do that,’ but now you think I can shove someone with 30 pounds on me hard enough to send them down the stairs?!” Tsuru gasps. “Besides, If it was an accident I would have called you.”.

“You didn’t call me when you decided to run away to Tokyo!”

“Because you’d tell Mom, and it wouldn’t be safe for—” Tsuru clutches her stomach and looks away. “That’s different, ok?”

“Then maybe when you left you left the window open and someone broke in and killed Mom,” Zenkichi says. “Either way you still killed her.”

“That’s— that’s not true.”

“Come on, we’re going to the police station.” Zenkichi says, grabbing for her wrist, but Tsuru snaps it back.

“What? N-no, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m betting you were hired under a fake name,” Zenkichi says. “You may have tampered with a crime scene.”

“I told you I didn’ kill Mom!”

“Well I can’t believe you now, can I?” Zenkichi says. “I thought you’d tell me about something like this, so how can I know you’re being honest with me now.”

“You’re not even working Mom’s case. They wouldn’t let you.”

“Oh so you want to call an officer and wait for a police car?”

“You’re just doing this because you’re mad at me!”

“No, I’m not, I’m acting as an officer of the law, and since you were the last one to see Mom alive, you’re a suspect, and should be interrogated.”

Tsuru looks down on the ground and mutters something.

“What was that?”

“...I hate you,” Tsuru says without raising her voice. “I’ve been so worried I was wrong not to trust you, and here you are proving my right. I hate you! I hate you so much!” Then she walks off.

“Where are you going?”

“To the police station, that’s what you wanted right? Then once they explain you’re ridiculous for thinking I could kill Mom, then I’ll decide if I ever want to talk to you again.”

Present

Yusuke doesn’t know how to feel after Inspector Hasegawa— should he call him Uncle?— finishes. He grasps for the first thought he can force into intelligible words.

“And after that?”

“I got chewed out for accessing information on a case I wasn’t working on to track down your mom, she showed her train ticket to prove she was already gone by mom’s ETD, and then she never spoke to me again,” Inspector Uncle Hasegawa says.

“Were you still angry with her?”

“I held out for a year being stubborn. Then I didn’t know how to talk to her.”

“Did you know about me? Did you know she’d died?”

“Yes. It’s not like I was stalking her or anything, but I… kept tabs on her. When she died, I’d heard you were living with a family friend, so I figured that’d be better for everyone.”

Yusuke would be lying if he said he didn’t see Hasegawa’s side of things. It’s not like he’d know what to say.

But another part of him is stewing in an ice cold rage. Madarame had always said he should be grateful, that Yusuke had no other family who would want to take him in. Was that just another lie or an accidental truth considering his uncle had never even tried to reach out to him after his mother’s death.

His mother’s death stands out as the one sharp point of the haze of his early childhood, and he remembers it being just him, Madarame, and a few other mourners. If Hasegawa had been there, he never spoke to Yusuke.

Though, given the look on Hasegawa’s face, now’s not the time to go into that.

So Yusuke swallows his rage. “Can you send the doctor in? I suppose I need to give her my medical information.”

“Oh, sure, of course. I’ll go tell your friends everything.”

Inspector Uncle Hasegawa gets up, and something in his bearing makes Yusuke feels as though he’s only added to the weight the man has been carrying all these years.

#uncle zenkichi conspiracy board #alto writes #whumptober #day 4 #yusuke kitagawa #zenkichi hasegawa #child abuse tw #ask to tag #hospitals #heart attacks #medical stuff i probably got wrong I'm so sorry

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the-universe-in-our-mind · 8 months

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DAY 4 OF FLUFFTOBER: Cinderella Moment

Pairing: Priscilla and Isa (platonic)

Words: 908 words

Warning: One slightly nsfw comment

The door is opened suddenly and it hits the door frame as violently. A panicked voice is heard in all the apartment as the young pirate spoke.

“Priscilla! Code red, code red!" Isa yelled, trying to get her shoes off as quickly as she could.

In seconds, Priscilla was running down the stairs, with a weapon in hand, ready for anything.

"What is going on? Who’s hurt? Who do I need to kill?" She asked quickly, a fierce look on her face, ready to pounce if asked to.

Isa’s eyes widened at that as she shook her head.

"No, no! It’s nothing like that! No one is hurt or need to be taken care of now!" She clarified and Priscilla sighed in relief, putting her weapon down.

"Gosh, you scared me for a second! What then? What’s wrong?” Asked Priscilla with a slight worried look, confused with the panic state of her temporary roommate.

"I have my first real date on land with Amber and I look like this!" Isa replied, pointing out at herself, her sea clothes on her and her messy hair.

There was a time and Priscilla finally let a big laugh escape her.

"This is why you called a code red? Cause you have a first date on land?" She mocked a bit and Isa scoffed.

"She’s bringing me to that fancy and expensive restaurant and she’s paying! So I have to look good so she doesn’t get disappointed!" Protested Isa and Priscilla shook her head.

"You’ve been dating for months, Isa. This shouldn’t be anything special." She tried to reason with her yet Isa wasn’t budging.

"It’s different on land than on sea, Priss." She pointed out, crossing her arms.

"I don’t see how." Priscilla shrugged before turning around and Isa sighed in discouragement.

"Ugh, I do not have time for this! Amber will be here in half an hour! So you’re gonna help me or not?" Isa riposted, annoyed.

The red-haired girl tsked before turning back to her friend.

"Fine." She conceded before grabbing a towel and approaching her to give it to her. As she got closer, she made a slight displeased face.

"Go take a shower. You stink so bad." She told her and Isa shook her head, a bit insulted.

"Try staying on sea without the opportunity to shower for days." She bites back, grabbing the towel.

"… Fair point." Priscilla admitted as Isa was climbing the stairs to the bathroom.

" Do not take all the hot water! Matthias hasn’t came back from training, he’ll need to wash himself too!" She warned her and Isa yelled back.

"Copy that!"

Minutes later, Isa was out, looking better, holding her towel around her as she walked to her room. Priscilla was waiting for her.

"Here’s some clothing options I have for you." She indicated, showing the few options she selected that were now put on the bed.

Isa smiled at that, with a small smirk on her face.

"Huh, so you ARE willing to let me borrow your clothes.” She teased her and Priscilla scoffed.

"Don’t push it. It’s a one time thing because your options are clearly a disaster." Priscilla criticized a bit, but still keeping her tone teasing. Isa chuckled at that before smiling.

"Thank you, honestly. I appreciate it." She said and Priscilla shook her head.

"Yeah, yeah. Now, go change and fix yourself with what I put on your desk before your girlfriend arrives." Priscilla said before leaving the pirate on her own to change and fix her hair and face.

A while after, Isa was getting out of the room and back into their living room. Priscilla turned to her and smiled in approval. It was really night and day, from how she looked initially when she walked into their shared house.

"Well, that’s definitely better than earlier." She commented and Isa offered her a smile before looking at the entrance, biting her lips in stress. Priscilla knew that look. She sighed before approaching her friend, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, relax. That’s Amber we’re talking about. That one girl who’s been head over heels for you for so long, the one who would rip someone’s head off if they even dared disrespecting you. She will call you the most beautiful girl in the world and mean it. You really shouldn’t have any worries about that." Priscilla reassured her and it seemed to calm Isa down just enough for her to relax a bit. Priscilla let go of her shoulder before smirking a bit.

"And anyway. Knowing both of you, I feel like these clothes are not going to be on you for a while tonight." She teased, which earned a laugh from Isa.

"You said it, not me." Isa pointed out and Priscilla shook her head at the comment.

There was then a knock on the door and Isa stood up straight.

"Might be her. See you later and thanks again! You’re a lifesaver!" She thanked her as she walked to the door, getting ready to leave.

"Better take good care of these clothes, if there’s a single tear in it, I will make you pay for it!" Priscilla warned and Isa laughed before getting out.

Priscilla smiled, looking at the two girls speaking out of the window. She was happy for them. They both deserve each other, she thought, before moving away, putting her mind back on the next task to do.

#flufftober2023 #flufftober #original character #oc: isa #oc: priscilla

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jadekitty777 · 1 year

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The Emotionalist: Chapter 3

I’ma be honest, I just found out that copying and pasting to tumblr is not saving my bold and italics. I’m too lazy to fix it, so uh, I recommend reading these chapters on A03 lol Particularly this one which is text heavy.

Prompt for Day 4: Sick

Rating: T

Word Count: 5K

Summary: Clover Ebi was a huntsman who, like most Atlesian soldiers, hid most of his emotions behind a mask of calm professionalism. That is, unless, one knew where to look. And Qrow looked a lot.

Or, 5 times Qrow learned to read Clover’s mood not from his face, but from his ears. [An adjacent story to Hunting Season Hunting Season; events from Qrow’s POV]

Ao3 Link: Burning like the Sun

Did you get the day off too?

Qrow leaned against the wall beside the Aceops office, left leg propped on the wall behind him and beating a staccato rhythm while he tapped a message back to his eldest niece. Yeah. Ol’ Jimmy has a heart after all. Got plans?

FNKI invited us out to a club. She replied. Rubes and Weiss aren’t interested but Blake and I are going.

He arched an eyebrow, snorting. Try not to blow this one up firecracker. 🔥🔥🔥🔥

IT WAS ONE TIME!

He could practically imagine the way Yang was fuming.

Another ping only moments later, Anyways, what are you gonna do?

Things. He thumbed out, eyes drifting down the hall. Still empty.

He didn’t look away until another ping chimed for his attention.

…Responsible things?

He started to type out one of his typical answers, something that fit the blasé and uncaring attitude he often pulled with his niece. He had a dozen he used on any occasion, but some of his favorites were ‘Responsible people don’t have fun’ or ‘Ain’t my style’.

Then he paused and wondered at the ellipses his brash and impulsive niece never used in her texting and wondered if this question was more serious than he was used to.

He didn’t have to think hard to figure out why it was there.

Swallowing guilt, he told her a half-truth instead of an uncaring dismissal. If you must know, I have a date.

That certainly started some sort of implosion, as he saw his niece start and stop typing for several moments.

Then, nothing except a big long pause.

Qrow realized he should be worried when a reply finally came in a burst of yellow text drawing itself along his screen:

Congratulations Old Man!

His shoulders shook to contain his laughter. I think my eyeballs just exploded. Then, with a huff, added, And don’t call me old.

You’ll survive. She quipped right back. After firing off a few annoying emojis his way, she finally said, Figured something was going on between you and Mr. Prince of the Forest.

Any amusement he had left died in his throat.

Blood burning, he typed back aggressively, Don’t call him that Yang. Ever. That shit’s not okay.

Why are you suddenly mad at me??? Even through text, he could hear her indignation.

He started to type rapidly, not even double-thinking his harshness - Gods, she liked Blake for maiden’s sake! - but before he could even finish, her next reply stopped him cold.

That's what you called him!

No I didn’t, He defended back immediately. Sure he didn’t used to be the most sensitive about Faunus discrimination. There were definitely things he’d said or did in his youth that he wasn’t proud of, with his jeering tribemates egging him on. And because he was an idiot so desperate for approval, he hurt a lot of people who never deserved it - but that was a long time ago, and he’d grown up a lot since he’d left his old life behind and better people opened his eyes.

But, his niece was swiftly proving that false, pings coming back quick and short,

Um yeah. You did.

Like two days after the whole arrest bs

During breakfast

I mean you were kinda rough but

Yeah

As the words drilled into his skull, they reached into his brain, pulling out a foggy memory.

He hadn’t been… great when he first stopped drinking. Better than most, aura was a blessing sometimes, but he knew detoxing threw him for a loop. It was why he often preferred not to.

But with James not willing to put them onto the field until they at least settled in and the kids got their weapons fixed up - not even him - it had left Qrow with little to do but ride the waves of sicknesses and nausea.

Still, he had made an effort to join the kids for breakfast, even if he couldn’t stomach it. It was important they knew - well, that Yang and Ruby knew - that he was still trying.

Those first few days were always the worst though, leaving him sweaty and shaky and just all around in a piss-poor mood. That day in particular, he recalled having just come off from one of the worst sleeps of his life. First at the table but slumped over it and clutching his cup of undrinkable coffee like a lifeline.

Yet Ruby joined him as if it was just another Tuesday.

And the small exchange he’d completely forgotten about surfaced like an oil spill on the ocean, black and poisonous:

“Hey, hey Uncle Qrow!” Ruby said enthusiastically, “Penny told us that when we get our weapons back, the Aceops want to take us all out on a mission together. Doesn’t that sound great?”

He scoffed, saying loud enough he knew every single person heard every single last one of his damn words, “Oh great, can’t wait for a prance through the frozen wastelands with Mr. Prince of the Forest and all his little woodland friends.”

He couldn’t recall exactly how anyone responded beyond a few uncomfortable laughs before the subject was quickly changed.

He especially didn’t know what Blake’s had been - he had never looked up.

“Fuck.” He hissed to himself, smacking his head back on the wall.

He… owed her an apology.

But first he had to fix something else.

He forced his eyes back onto his scroll, his turn to rapidfire back replies.

Well I shouldn’t have.

If I ever say anything like that again, about ANY Faunus, punch me in the face.

As hard as you can.

I want to go through the WALL.

Got it?

He watched the little drawing quill dance as his niece started to reply but never let her get there as he asked, Why are you repeating me anyways?

The quill didn’t come back.

His scroll went dark, then black.

“Qrow?”

He jumped, almost dropping the device. Looked up and around, to see Clover standing just a few paces away, eyebrow raised. His arms were relaxed at his sides, his own scroll held limp in his hand. But through the transparent display, he could see the polls newscast rolling, sound probably feeding directly into Clover’s communicator.

The sight of his ears, still in the near-permanent droop they’d fallen into since the start of the week, reminded Qrow why he was here.

“H-Hey!” He straightened up, corner of his lip pulling up in a half-smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Clover’s eyebrow only hiked higher, looking past him briefly. “At my own office?”

“Uh.” He articulated gracefully. “Yeah well. Figured you’d have the night off like everyone else.”

“I do.” Was the even reply, playfulness starting to glimmer in Clover’s eye. “Which only further doesn’t explain why you’re here though.”

Damn.

Qrow cleared his throat, trying to save himself by appealing to the clever idiot, “Lucky guess?”

Clover’s ears twitched, raising just a smidge, mimicking the slow smile gracing his handsome face. “Is that so?”

“Of course.” He jutted out a hip, placing a hand on it. “Come on, don’t act like you’re not happy to see me Clubs.”

The slow roll of the other’s eyes on him was heated and absolutely deliberate. “I’m always happy to see you.” The husky promise sent a thrill through him.

Yet, as fast as the flame was lit, it suddenly burnt out as something Qrow didn’t hear made Clover look down at his scroll, holding it tight enough he was surprised it didn’t break.

His ears had fallen once more.

“Anyways, I was just here to send off a few files Winter requested before I headed to the polls.” Clover’s tone was that clipped professionalism he usually reserved for the field as he walked past, opening up the door. “Did you need something?”

The change of pace took out some of his bluster, but he carried on as he trailed in after the other. “Well, I haven’t had a chance to see the sights lately. Was thinking you could give me a grand tour. Saaaay over dinner? Your choice, my treat?”

The other paused, hand hovering over the power button to his computer as he stared back at Qrow. “Not sure I’ve heard of a lot of tours that happen stationary in a restaurant.” The playfulness was back.

“Clover.” Qrow santured over, hopping onto the corner of his desk. “Come on already. We can even go to your favorite.”

This time he actually chuckled, finally booting up his computer. “I’m afraid my favorite place isn’t really your scene.” Clover glanced at him meaningfully. “Or your crowd.”

He’d guessed as much.

It said a lot about the soldier and the way he’d been treated over the years that he so quickly was willing to shelter Qrow from experiencing his own culture. He didn’t think it had to do with a lack of pride, but rather a lack of agency in his own position. A Faunus holding such a high rank in the military, being James’ literal right hand, should be something to simply praise for the accomplishment itself. A sign of times truly changing.

But it was obvious from people like Robyn or Jacques, who would so easily use that stance against him, that all Clover could do instead was constantly mock an image of perfection and pureness to the world so that they couldn’t tear him and everything he stood for down.

He was so used to doing that, that it seemed to become almost second nature to hide anything that might come off as ‘troublesome’.

Unfortunately for him, Qrow wasn't really into all that rigamarole. He especially wasn’t when he wanted this to work so badly - the conversation they’d had two weeks ago about his insecurities over his semblance had only solidified that in his mind. What started out as just a bit of flirting and mutual attraction had turned into so much more. Clover was special and inspiring in a way he’d never met before, and he very much wanted to keep him in his life.

“All I’m hearing is a bunch of excuses.” Qrow went in for the kill, leaning over the desk and dragging a hand through his own hair, disheveling it purposely as he put on his best smirk. “Come on Clover, take me out for a night on the town.”

Hook, line and sinker. Clover’s breath caught, eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, giving in with a simple, “I suppose dinner does sound nice. How ‘bout you meet me at the helipad docks at 6?”

Yes! Qrow did a mental victory dance, slipping off the desk. “You got it Clubs. I’ve got a few things to take care of, but I’ll see you then~”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.” Clover’s bright smile and raised ears was the last thing Qrow saw before the door closed.

He started down the hall, already looking up locations for a good clothing and cologne store when his phone pinged.

A message from Yang.

He paused, the conversation from before Clover’s arrival coming back in a rush.

Reluctantly, he tapped over to read it.

I dunno. I guess ‘cause you said it, I thought it was okay.

A hard knot of shame bunched in his stomach as the implications of that fully hit him.

“Shit.”

Six o’ clock on the dot, Clover walked into the station.

Qrow took a mournful moment to admire him. Despite neither of them saying a word, it seemed they’d come to the universal agreement that this was a date.

Clover had dressed down for the occasion, and though he already missed the sleeveless vest, Clover filled out the dark green turtleneck rather prettily. His pants were black and framed shapely thighs. Kingfisher was still hitched to his hip and the leather belt it was attached to had a buckle with a shamrock printed on.

And, of course, completely for Qrow’s benefit, he wore a single chain drop earring in the tip of his right ear, a set of silver feathers that hung at the bottom tinging together anytime he moved.

As he drew close, Qrow could smell the cologne he wore.

“Hey.” Clover breathed, eyes rolling over him shamelessly. “You look great.”

He glanced down, almost forgetting himself. He’d kept it simple, going for a pair of charcoal gray pants and matching it with a black dress shirt that had a red and white floral design on the inside of his collar and the rolls of the sleeves. He’d dug out his old necklace, the little cross settled over his heart.

But where he’d really gone all out was his nails - colored with a polish so dark blue it was almost black, with little silver confetti stars pressed over top with a clear coat. They caught the light nicely, little constellations twinkling along his hands.

The question on why he bothered with the effort still escaped him when he was about to ruin everything.

“Not as good as you, Clubs.” He tried anyways, even though his heart wasn’t in it.

Clover picked up on it immediately, one ear raising up like an exclamation as he asked, “You alright? If you’re having second thoughts-”

“No.” He cut him off quickly, not wanting Clover to think for a second it was about that. “But you might in a minute. I just… need to come clean about something.”

“Okay?”

Clover only seemed further confused as Qrow handed over his scroll. “Read it. Next page too.” He mumbled.

They were just screenshots of the tail end of his conversation with Yang, starting from the damning slur to her last words to him.

Clover was quiet as he read it, eyebrows twisting down somewhat as he swiped to the next picture. Swiped back and read it again. Neither his face nor his ears were giving anything away, as if he was completely frozen.

Qrow felt his anxiety fester the longer he just stood there, staring at it. Eventually it grew to be too much, and he blurted out, “I’m really sorry.”

Clover looked up at him.

On instinct, he looked away, then forced his eyes back. Look at him damnit!

“I-I know that doesn’t make up for it. But you had the right to know.” He explained hastily and then he waited for whatever punishment was coming.

He mostly expected a punch to the face.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Clover to just blink and hand back his scroll with a calm, “That’s it?”

Excuse him - WHAT?!

His shock must have been evident, because the other man continued, “Qrow you’re not the first person to relegate me to deer-focused idioms.”

“Doesn’t mean I shoulda fucking said it.”

A sigh. “No, you shouldn’t have. But, and take this as nicely as you can - I’m not surprised that you’re kind of a total asshole to people you first meet.”

Qrow winced, but didn’t deny it. He could sweet talk like the best of them when he needed to, but on a general day-to-day? Especially with Atlas folk? Yeah, he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nice Guy.

Still…

“Clover, don’t make excuses for me.”

“I’m not.” He insisted, placing a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “Look, listen to me, okay? I understand that you’re human and that you probably grew up with a lot of racists throughout your life. I’m not about to hold you up on a pedestal above everyone else. This stuff is complicated and more terrifyingly systematic than even I like to think about most days.” His fingers squeezed, just slightly. “But that’s not the important thing. You want to know what is?”

Qrow thought it over, shrugging a bit. “That I... was honest?”

“No. Well yes, but no. It’s that you understand it’s wrong and are willing to change it. Most people don’t give me that kind of respect.” He insisted, pulling back to rest his hand on his hip. “You know what happened when I told my last boyfriend I didn’t like him calling me ‘Fawny’? He got mad at me, asked why I was being ‘so uptight’ about it. And when I explained, he claimed I was just being dramatic.” Clover rolled his eyes, spitting out, “Fucking asshole.”

Even though it sounded truly awful, it was odd that he actually felt lighter at hearing that - but Clover tended to have that effect on him. Somehow, he always saw the best in him.

Well. Mostly.

“Didn’t you just call me an asshole, like, two sentences ago?” Qrow teased.

He waved him away. “Yeah but you’re like a general asshole, not a calculated one.”

“And that’s better?”

“Will you let me compliment you already?”

“That was a compliment?!” He mock-cried.

To his surprise, Clover burst out laughing.

It was a really nice sound, and he couldn’t help but join in.

As it petered out, the two of them sharing smiles, Qrow admitted cautiously, “I’m really surprised you’re not mad at me.”

“Trust me Qrow. When I’m angry, you’ll know.” That promise sounded oddly terrifying. Before he could dwell too much on it, Clover pointed to his scroll. “But I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit - again. You know you never needed to tell me this, right? That you could have hid it forever, and I probably never would have found out.” He met his gaze, sincere and kind as he said, “The fact you did despite that says a lot more about the good in your character than I think you realize.”

Qrow’s eyes widened, a flush of warmth rushing through him. He might have been swooning. He was definitely blushing. “Clover…”

The soldier just seemed pleased with himself. Then a chime from the itinerary display went off, and his ear perked up before his eyes followed it. “Our flight’s ready.” He jabbed a thumb towards the loading station, giving him a wink. “What say we get outta here?”

Utterly enchanted, there really was only one answer to that. “Lead the way Clubs.”

The Dog Pan was a hole in the wall kind of place, right in the center of Mantle’s lower end district. It wasn’t quite the slums, but it was clear the side of town had seen better, with broken out windows and graffiti on most walls.

Yet, the moment they walked in, he could immediately feel the closeness and community that seemed to radiate from the very core. The windows had top curtains with little leaping dogs weaved out of yarn and privacy blinds made of bed sheets with colorful designs. They matched well with the walls where, in place of traditional pictures, were long, flowing, multi-colored tapestries with beaded ends. One of them depicted the God of Animals, another the Shallow Sea and the island of Unitas it banked. It all looked hand-woven.

The place was also packed to the brim, some of the chairs shoved against tables not matching as if they had been brought in. There was music playing but he could barely hear it over conversation, which seemed unusually loud; yet despite any eared Faunus obviously pinning their ears down, there was still a kind of comradery in the laughter and noise.

“Wow. I figured it’d be nuts but not this crazy!” Clover's own ears had dropped but he was grinning. He glanced at him. “You still sure you’re good?”

Qrow snorted. He used to frequent rave bars at an alarming rate. This was nothing. “You’re gonna have to try harder if you want to scare me off Clubs!”

“Clover!” The shout had them both looking forward, a plump and jolly looking woman weaving her way around the tables towards them. She had a skin tone that reminded him of Marrow and black dog ears that flopped over on the top of her head. As she reached them, she was quick to pull Clover into a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight! You haven’t been around in ages.”

“Good to see you Maxi.” He replied, hugging her back.

She stepped back, zeroing in on Qrow, curious and welcoming. “And who is this handsome one?”

“This is Qrow, my new field partner.” Clover chuckled, patting his shoulder.

Taking his cue, he held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She shook it. “You as well darling. So, just you two then? I can’t get you a table, but I do have some room at the end of the bar.”

Clover shot him a questioning look.

He knew she meant a food bar, but it still settled like an itch on his skin. Shaking it off, he assured, “Works for me.”

“Lovely! Follow me.”

They picked their way carefully through the restaurant to get towards the back, settling into circular seats that creaked and had tears in the leather. The counter was worn and he could see words and symbols carved into the softwood. Maxi took their drink orders and, with her so close to the kitchen, was back within moments with a soda and a pot.

“Gotta say,” She said to them as she poured Qrow’s coffee. “I’m disappointed you didn’t bring my son with you.”

Wait…

“‘Fraid we couldn’t. He’s working security tonight.” Clover explained.

Maxi sighed. “Remind that boy of mine it wouldn’t kill him to see his mother now and again, would you?”

He gave her a two-fingered salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You just call when you're ready, dears.” She said before departing to handle some of the other tables.

Qrow leant towards Clover. “So she’s…?”

“Yeah. Marrow’s mom. This is actually how I met him. Saw him stop a whole tray from falling out of his sister’s hands when she tripped.” Clover told him. “I asked him why he wasn’t in the academy, and he told me he was. He just spent all his free time here, bussing tables and cleaning dishes. I knew ever since then that if I ever got a spot on the team, I wanted him on it.”

How exactly a spot ‘opened up’ was left unsaid.

Qrow could probably guess anyways.

“He was a good choice. Kid’s got talent, just needs more steadiness.” He said instead. “So, you’re the only one with the night off?” He knew Elm, Harriet and Vine were all working security for Jacques’ campaign. They’d been specially requested, for obvious reasons. Likewise, Robyn had asked for whoever was left.

“Perks of being Captain.” Clover joked. “And, James wanted Winter and I on standby.”

“For what?”

“For whatever happens once the polls close. Riots are uh, likely.” His eyes flicked to a TV set in the corner, and though it was inaudible, the picture of Jacques and Robyn on screen, the gap between their percentage ratings narrowing every minute, told them all they needed to know. “Among other things.”

Qrow kinda wanted to shoot it. “Y’know, I was trying to get you away from all that tonight.”

“Oh Qrow, I was always going to look. But,” He slid his hand across the table, the sides of their hands brushing. “At least I’ve got some good company to get me through it.”

Qrow hooked their pinkies together, a silent support.

“Come on, let’s order.”

Qrow had never seen a menu with so many post-it notes. The effect of the embargo was clear, as many foods had become too expensive or outright impossible to obtain - but anything with a cheaply grown vegetable, like corn or rice, or an easily obtained meat, like chicken which were bred plentifully or fish which was naturally fished and farmed out of the tundra, were still in supply.

In the end, he took Clover’s suggestion to try the smothered chicken legs.

Baked in gravy and coming with a side of cornbread and mashed potatoes, it was all sinfully good and filling.

He also managed to coax Clover to let him have a bite of his - the fried pike burst with flavor, likely attributed to its freshness. It came with a side of fries. Qrow stole a few of those too, mostly being cheeky about it.

Yet, as dinner carried on, the mood of the restaurant shifted. Conversations became hushed and subdued, a worry rippling through the people. No, a fear. If he strained to listen, he could catch snippets of conversation, whispers of what would happen to families stuck in the slums, of their children in the schools, of their jobs, their very way of living. Even Maxi seemed to hold her tray heavier with every pass, her smiles more strained. More people came in. Few left. It got so crowded, Qrow only had to lean back slightly to touch another person.

Try as he might to keep him distracted, Clover kept glancing at the TV. His ears were low enough, the feathers of his earring were resting against his shoulder.

As the last of the fries disappeared between them, Qrow asked softly, “You want to stay here?”

“‘Til it’s over.”

He nodded, and as their plates were gathered, asked for a refill. Sipped black coffee in one hand while the other slipped over damaged wood to touch Clover’s again.

After a moment, Clover reached back, nudging under Qrow’s fingers so they slipped over top of his own.

The minutes ticked on.

The percentages between Schnee and Hill grew smaller and smaller.

47-53.

48-52.

49-51.

At the final second, it hit 50-50.

The whole restaurant had gone dead silent as the polls disappeared, reporter Oliver Sikes taking over the screen. “And there we have it! The polls have officially closed and the final tallies are coming through now. Phew, what a close race. It’ll be just a minute now folks.” He rambled on for a bit more, detailing out the last districts that were decided on and the few they were still waiting on the exact counts from. But like all things in Atlas, his prediction was precise.

As the sixty second ended, Sikes was announcing, “Oh and here we go, I’m being told the counting is done! And it looks like…”

The polls flashed back on screen.

57-43.

“Jacques has been announced the winner!”

The declaration was like pulling the pin off a grenade, a sudden, explosive roar starting up around them as the restaurant descended into chaos.

The hand in his had tightened into a vice.

“What the fuck!” Qrow exclaimed. There was no fucking way, with a race that close, that Jacques pulled that much ahead. That meant some of the votes had been falsified. He jerked his head around, spitting, “Clover, that’s - Clover?”

Clover didn’t so much as respond to him, his wide eyes still staring at the screen where Jacques had started his victory speech. His face was completely motionless and impassive.

It was his ears that told Qrow the real story, as they had flipped back horizontally, the entire lengths of them trembling with barely withheld rage.

Just as soon as he’d seen it, it was gone when a furious outcry from the back had them both looking over their shoulders in time to see a man with moose antlers toss his chair. It hurtled its way across the restaurant and slammed right into the TV, shattering it on impact.

Had it been up to him, Qrow would have given the guy a medal.

Clover didn’t seem quite as praising, as he slammed his hands on the counter before climbing up onto it, shouting across to the crowd. “EVERYONE CALM DOWN!” He bellowed. “This is a Faunus-friendly establishment - a piece of our own community! What are you doing wrecking it?!”

Some people heard it, others didn’t, still arguing and trying to trash the place.

“No-No, please don’t!” Qrow heard Maxi cry just as one of her tapestries was pulled off the wall. Another person threw a plate on the floor.

A window cracked.

Sensing things were about to get further dangerous, he hopped the counter while Clover continued to try and appeal to the growing mob. Just as Qrow had managed to usher the sobbing woman through the kitchen door where the rest of her family was, ordering, “Get out the back!” he heard someone’s scream pierce the air that had him whirling around in horror.

“Wait, aren’t you Clover Ebi!? You voted for Schnee! Traitor!”

“Traitor! Traitor!” The mob chanted.

It was like a wave as they surged towards Clover, grabbing at his legs and trying to pull him off the bar. He yelped, grabbing onto a light fixture. It yawned worryingly.

“HEY!” Heart hammering in his chest, Qrow lunged towards Clover, trying to pull him the other way, kicking some of other Faunus back. “Let him go!”

The light fixture snapped but Qrow had just enough leeway to yank him down on the other side of the bar.

They backed up against the wall as the mob all started to round it and climb over.

He curled a hand around Harbinger’s hilt. Was he really going to have to…?

In the corner of his eye, he saw Clover desperately flick the feathers of his earring.

A second later, an unmistakable siren pierced the air.

Grimm.

Everyone froze.

Then some started to panic, rushing out the doors. Others flung themselves under tables or into the corners.

Sharing a look, he and Clover moved, using the sudden space to leap onto the tables around the thinning crowd and make it to the exit.

They spilled into the street and started running. The first block was for safety.

At the second, Clover finally managed to lift his shaking hand to his earpiece, “Marrow, report.”

Qrow grabbed his shoulder, pulling them both to a stop. He could feel the tremors leaking from Clover’s skin.

“Right. Roger. We’re on our way.” Clover dropped his hand to Kingfisher, taking a deep, steadying breath as he unfurled it. “Robyn’s party was attacked. A dozen people are dead and the grimm are flocking to it.”

Qrow gave him one last check over, just to make sure he was really okay, before he unsheathed Harbinger. “Let’s go.”

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2023 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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pleasedonthurtcjstar · 1 year

Text

Cabin

Age: Adult

Absolute No’s: none

Ok with: General, Hurt/Comfort (Angst), Unsympathetic Sides, Mature, Explicit

Will receive: fic or art

Tags1: General, Hurt/Comfort (Angst), Unsympathetic Sides, Mature, Explicit

Prompt 1: Dark, nsfw: Remus keeps Roman - go wild with this.

Characters: Remus Sanders, Roman Sanders

Relationships: RemRom

Warning Tags: Domestic Abuse, Blood, Biting, Gore, Incest

Tags: Fluff (not really), Smut, Angst, Blind Folded, Protective Remus Sanders, Top Remus Sanders, Bottom Roman Sanders, Roman Sanders POV

Summary: There are many things Roman admires about Remus. His emotional eyes, his swim model body, and his strange and off putting way of thinking. But that has never discouraged Roman’s feelings toward him. “I love you,” Roman says in a voice hardly louder than a soft whisper. “I love you,” Remus says, a murmur into Roman’s ear. Love.

Wc: 3276

Goal: 4-5 k

For Crow. Thank you Ry and Ele. RemRom Winter Exchange 2022.

This is before and after the cut. Please be aware sometimes tumblr deletes a paragraph randomly. I recommend you read this on Ao3 instead. Thank you.

This is before and after the cut.

Roman looked over everything he had in his bag. Lube, flashlight, vibrator, water. Check, check, check and check. It seems he had everything he needed for the adventure Remus had planned for them. In the past, Roman usually planned the outings. But this time, Remus did everything but begged Roman to let him plan their next date night. Remus didn’t tell him anything, which only made Roman’s mind wonder, racing with all kinds of possibilities.

Remus barged into Roman’s room.

“You ready?” Remus asked. Roman was used to Remus’s tendency to ignore other people's boundaries. Zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Roman looked over to his love and smiled.

“Yeah,” he replied.

They headed toward the entrance of the imagination, the fun weekend was beginning.

…

It was weird, no, it was different. Roman was relying on his sense of smell and his ears as Remus led him forward. Why had he agreed to wearing a blindfold, Roman wasn’t entirely sure.

“We’re almost there,” Remus said, his voice very close to his ear, obviously he had leaned in to speak to him.

Soon enough the cold air was replaced with warmth. Remus guided Roman up a few steps, the sound of wood creaking and squeaking underneath their feet met Romans’s ears.

“Let me have your bag,” Remus said as Roman felt his brother's hand slide up his arm to his shoulders to take the straps of the bag off of him.

For a few seconds, Roman didn’t know where Remus was. The other must have slipped out of his boots because Roman couldn’t hear him at all. With a startle, Roman jumped, feeling a warm wet and firm substance travel up his ear.

A tongue.

Remus’s tongue.

“My apologies love,” Remus says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s ok,” Roman breathes out.

“I just couldn’t help myself,” his hands traveled up Roman’s sides, slowly unbuttoning Roman’s top. Roman ached to look into Remus’s eyes. He wondered if Remus suddenly wanted this as much as he did.

“Can I take off this blind fold?” Roman asks.

“I was thinking you’d allowed me to guide you tonight.” His buttons were completely undone, and Remus’s cold fingers shoved the article off of Roman’s shoulders. His top landed in a pile at his feet.

Even though the room was noticeably warmer than the outside, Roman still shivered from the sudden disappearance of his shirt. Roman could hear the wrestling of clothes to his side. Remus must have been taking off his own shirt. It typically took him a while, with all the extravagant pieces to his attire, the sparkles, the eye and the puffiness of it all. But soon enough, Remus's hands were on Roman's body again.

His lips were on Roman’s, his mustache tickling Roman’s nose.

Roman loved this, missed this.

Maybe it was better that he was blindfolded. His own hand clawed up Remus's back, definitely leaving marks for the next day. Remus guided him forward, careful small steps to… well, somewhere. It was warmer wherever they were.

The sound of a fire crackling and popping caught Roman’s ears. But he was no longer paying attention to that. He felt the back of his legs bump against something hard, and within seconds, he fell backwards.

A bed, soft and fluffy. Bouncy of course. Lots of pillows. As Remus and his teasing tongue traveled down Roman’s neck and over his chest, spending a wonderful detour at his nipples, Roman shoved as many pillows and whatnots off the bed. Too many pillows.

“Remus,” he moaned, having his fingers grasp desperately at Remus's head, his fingers clasping around the thick strains of his brother's hair, pulling the other further down to his own hips.

It was weird not being able to see. The feeling of Remus's cold fingers wrapped around the elastic band of Roman’s underpants, pulling them down, allowing his dick to flop out and become exposed to the warm air surrounding the two of them. Remus’ laugh sent chills down Romans back. Then, for two seconds, Remus left. Leaving Roman alone, blind on the bed, and unable to know where the other was.

“I’m just getting the lube,” Remus says somewhere to the right of Roman, in response to Roman’s unwilling whine at the loss of the other. “Wouldn't want to hurt you,” Remus continues. “Although I'm sure you'd love me to.”

Roman only smiled in response before Remus's lips were attached to him again. A brief kiss that didn't last for long. Then Remus pulled on his hips. Turning Roman from on his back to on his stomach. Rough but also tender. An odd comparison to describe anything, but it was the best way Roman could describe Remus.

Roman pushed upon his forearms and knees, feeling his hip bump not so gently against Remus's hips.

“Eager, huh?” Remus teases.

“Always eager for you.”

The soft almost whisper of a sound of lube being pumped into Remus’s (Roman assumed) hand was not missed by Roman. Soon enough, he felt Remus’s fingers intruding his hole. Just like how Remus was.

Intrusive.

“Remus,” Roman begged a little.

“Yeah?”

“Stop teasing.”

“I like the sounds you make.”

Luckily, Remus took pity and pulled his fingers out completely. Roman felt Remus's hips bump against his again while he lined his penis up to Roman’s ass.

Maybe it was because Roman was deprived of sight, but somehow this time it was different. Feeling Remus’s hands tuck him closer into the other’s body. Or to hear Remus’s groans as he thrusts into him.

If time could stop and one could live in a moment forever, Roman would like it to be now, being flung onto a bed and pounded by his twin brother. As the warm feeling in Roman’s gut began to grow, tightening with every thrust Remus gave him, he flung his head back and held desperately onto Remus’s hands. Soon enough, the feeling dissipated. Not exploded, but as if a robber finally heard the satisfying click of a locked door opening, Roman came onto the sheets before him.

Remus pulled him closer, upon his knees, back plastered sweatily against his chest, other hand loose against Roman’s neck. Just like Roman, Remus shoots into him, a sensation Roman always loved to feel. The pulsing, almost rhythmic of a warm, slightly sticky substance, filling him up.

Roman wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, but at some point, Remus pulled out, and carefully untied the bandana from over Romans eyes. He blinked, the dim light flooding his senses.

There was a fire, as Roman had suspected. Remus was still breathing heavily, his features hardly visible in the light emulated by the fire. Roman smiled faintly.

They situated themselves in their corresponding positions on the bed. Remus wrapped his arms around Roman, spooning with him on the bed. It was the most comfortable position in Roman’s opinion, hopefully Remus agrees.

“I love you” Roman said in a voice hardly louder than a soft whisper. He absent-mindedly rubbed his thumbs against Remus’s arms that kept him close to Remus’s heat. Remus hums, in response nearly asleep and wrapped around Roman.

Love.

Remus drifted off to sleep.

…

When Roman woke up, Remus wasn’t beside him.

The fire had gone out and the only source of light was the moon creeping in through the window. A pale whitish blue tint that illuminated the room.

Roman’s clothes were scattered around the room. Shifting in the bed, he felt the shaggy carpet beneath his feet. There wasn’t enough light for him to see the color and appreciate the craft work, but it felt soft.

Roman reached for his underwear, slipping it on quickly then stumbling to the door. This was a cabin for sure. Wood log walls on the interior. The ground was cold on the hardwood floor once he left the carpet.

Outside the door and to his right he entered the kitchen. A small area with a sink, an oven with a stovetop and a couple of counters. Not too much that caught the eye of anyone. Everything was in colors of beige, yellow, and brown. Not to mention Remus standing in the kitchen in a dark green robe.

The floor squeaked underneath Roman’s weight just outside the door and Remus looked around in search of the sound.

“Oh, hey, sleepyhead,” he says, a smile immediately painting his face.

“Hey, what are you cooking?”

“Spaghetti.”

Roman nods his head. Pasta was both siblings favorite food. Couldn't go wrong with a noodle.

Well actually, Roman did know how one could go wrong with pasta. Remus and his “surprise sauce”, whatever that means. Roman met Remus's eyes. An unspoken conversation.

“Don't worry, I'm following your recipe,” Remus said, gesturing to an open binder that laid on the kitchen table.

Legs of a wooden old chair scraped against the hardwood floor from Roman pulling it out to sit on it. He watched as Remus moved around the kitchen. Taking a moment to look all around him, Roman noticed there weren't any clocks around. No way to tell time, except for whenever the sun may be up.

Odd.

“How long have I been asleep?” Roman asked.

“Don't know,” Remus humps his shoulders, “but hopefully you're well rested for round two.”

The kitchen smelled wonderful, the promise of pasta made Roman’s mouth water salivating his tongue. He sat eagerly in his chair. However Remus only returned to the table with one fork. Surely he wasn’t thinking of slurping down the noodle with his hands. Or like the time he used a straw.

“Where’s your fork?” Roman asked.

“Right here.”

“And mine?”

Remus waved the same fork in front of him. Roman was still confused. His face successfully conveyed that for Remus.

“When you agreed to allow me to plan our date, you said I could have full control over everything.”

Roman nods his head slowly. He did agree to those terms.

“Yes, but what does that have to do with a fork?”

“I would like to feed my boyfriend.”

There was a moment of silence. Mainly because Roman didn’t know what he was going to say.

“I want to be in control of everything. Pamper you like a king. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

Like a king.

Roman would definitely want that. He nods his head, still unsure of what to say. Remus spinned the fork around collecting the pasta, and then brought it up to Roman’s lips. Remus followed his recipe to the T.

“Good?” Remus asks.

Roman looks up through his eyelashes.

“Perfect.”

“This weekend will be perfect. Just for a king.”

And it was.

Remus made sure to give Roman an amazing weekend. Something fit for a king.

But time always moved forward and before he knew it his royal experience was coming to an end.

As Remus nibbled on Roman’s neck, a spot that was very sensitive and that both brothers really loved, Roman couldn't help but notice the time... or rather, the assumed time.

“The sun will be going down soon,'' Roman said. Remus didn't respond, he continued to pepper Romans neck with kisses and drool covered licks.

“Remus,” Roman tried again. “We really should start to head back.”

“We aren’t leaving,” Remus said. His voice was a whisper in comparison to Roman’s.

“What do you mean? Are you trying to leave later?” Roman asked.

Remus didn’t reply, instead he continued to hold Roman close in his arms, rubbing his hand lazily and soothingly up and down Roman’s back. Roman waited an appropriate amount of time for Remus to reply, if he was even going to reply, but he never did.

“Remus, I would prefer if we left before dark,” Roman encourages.

“Roman, we aren't leaving,” Remus repeated.

“Is this one of your jokes? Because it's not funny,” Roman said. Removing his arms from around Remus's neck, Roman pushed himself away from Remus to see his face. Or… he tried to push himself up from Remus.

Remus's once loose grip had become stiff, confining Roman in his place on Remus’s lap.

“Remus, let me go” Roman said, craning his neck just to see Remus's eyes. He seemed relaxed, a harsh contrast to the vice grip he had on Roman.

“What's wrong with you?” Roman asked. More like an accusation than a question.

“We aren't leaving,” Remus sayid again. “You're not leaving. We hardly have time to see each other.” Remus continued. “You spend your days tending to the others. You don't even come to my room anymore.”

Roman still attempted to push himself off of Remus's lap. Since when was his brother stronger than him?!

“Remus, what are you talking about? I see you everyday. Let me go.”

“No. You're staying here with me, where we can be together with no worries.”

Remus was an unpredictable person. He does things that Roman could never understand. But this? Absolutely crazy. Remus said more but Roman was no longer listening. Instead he stopped struggling. Remus seemed to have liked that.

“Good. You finally understand what I'm saying, my prince.” Remus crooned. If Roman dare called that a croon. Roman laid his head back on Remus's shoulder. Taking a few casual breaths. Inhaling the scent of his love. “We can stay here for as long as we’d like. The others will never find us.”

Roman steaded himself into what he knew he had to do to get away from Remus. His lips pursed up against Remus’s shoulders. He knew exactly how he was going to get the other to let him go.

In quick motions, without truly thinking it through, Roman opened his mouth and chomped down as hard as he could into Remus's shoulder.

Multiple things happened in those few seconds. The skin, Remus’s skin was soft. Salty to taste, and quite easy to break the barrier. The taste of metal gushed into Roman’s merciless mouth. Red, warm, and guzzling against his teeth and down his oral cavity. Like… well like gushers.

Next the scream that escaped his twin’s mouth was something that Roman was sure would haunt anyone.

His plan worked. Remus’s tight grip around Roman's waist loosened and ceased to constrict him to Remus’s lap. Quickly Roman allowed his jaw to unclench, pushing his knees against the couch to project himself off of the other. Stumbling backwards, almost tripping on the coffee table, Roman steadied himself on his feet and backed his way to the door. Remus was applying pressure to his new found wound. Turning toward the door Roman tried twisting the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

Of course it wouldn't! It was locked.

Roman had failed to have noticed the amount of locks that were on the door before. But now he sure did pay attention to it. As the blood from his now ex-lover dripped from his lips and down his throat making him cough and sputter it back up, his hand got to work on the locks. Turning the dead bolt clockwise. Slide the lock to the right. Twist the lock to the left.

Too many locks on the damn door!

Before he knew it, and out of his control, his head went forward, slamming into the door. Roman yelped and let out a shaky breath. Remus grabbed Roman’s hair with a firm, unforgiving grasp.

Dizzy, disorientated, throbbing and painfully sick, Roman’s head repeatedly met contact with the dark wooden door. Quickly his senses were over stimulated, the pain becoming so much each pulse of new agony rolled over him faster than the last, numbing any other concerns he had before. And as everything soon started to all mush into one sensation, as something dark and sticky began to cloud his vision, not like he could see anything other than the dark object coming back and forth, it seemed as though the world was fading away. Becoming all of one and nothing at all.

The force on his head shifted the other way, away from the dark brown door, now with a crimson splatter painting the wood in thin lines.

This time, unlike before, his feet were unable to correct themselves underneath him. And as graceful as twisting his ankle on the top step of a steep staircase, Roman fell to the ground.

It wasn't long before Remus was on top of him.

His knees pressed harshly into Roman’s chest. This time it wasn't just Remus's blood in Romans mouth. Roman gagged due to the blood of Remus, his own blood from the harsh blows to the door, and the weight of his brother on top of his chest. Constricting air flow.

Dizzy.

Pounding.

Everything was fuzzy and unfocused. But not Remus’s eyes. Those dark green eyes that once seemed to carry so much love for Roman, now looked at him in a way Roman had only seen a few times.

When Remus was gone, unreachable.

Impulsive.

Reckless.

Dangerous.

Now that was clear to Roman.

“You little bitch,” Remus spits out. His shoulder was still bleeding, the blood cascading down his clavicle turning Remus's shirt darker on contact. “I give you a way to escape your troubles and this is how you repay me?”

There's only been a few times that Roman has seen the dark insanity in Remus's eyes. Nothing good ever came from it. Remus with his right hand swung down on Roman. You'd think the bleeding shoulder would deter this behavior but Roman was wrong. Painfully and numbingly wrong. Remus leaned down and applied his lips to Roman’s. Roman was still gasping for air and choking on blood.

Remus pulled away then pursed his lips, spat a mixture of saliva and blood onto Roman. Remus stood, standing over Roman’s body looking down at him. Roman turned his head to the side, spitting out the blood.

“Stay right here if you know what's good for you.”

Roman heard Remus walk away. To the bathroom then to the kitchen. Roman looked helplessly at the door. Why was there so many damn locks on it anyway? He heard the water run in the bathroom.

Remus returned. Manurving Roman to sit up. Roman felt something warm against his scalp. A towel gently dabbing at the wounds on his head. Roman didn’t dare say anything. Mainly because he still felt dizzy but mostly because of the fear he now felt toward Remus.

Remus also didn’t say much other than the instructions he gave Roman about where and how to move his body. Remus used scissors to cut Roman free of his clothes and soon enough he was completely undressed. Well, except for his socks.

Carefully Remus picked Roman up, bridal style, and carried him through the door to the bedroom. The fire was still going. Crackling away as if nothing happened. And if it wasn’t for the obviously new patch applied to Remus’s shoulder keeping his blood inside where it belongs, Roman might’ve thought nothing had truly happened.

But it did.

Remus laid Roman down upon the bed and wasted no time planting kisses on Roman’s beaten skin. His chest still hurts, bruising was definitely going to be forming. But Roman didn’t dare move. What if Remus became uncharacteristically violent toward him again?

“I’m sorry about the new scares, love,” Remus says. It’s the first sentence for the past hour that wasn't instructions. “Just like the others, we’ll grow to love them as well,” he says, kissing a particular blue welt forming on Roman’s abdomen.

Remus didn’t go any further. He stopped, positioning himself to lie on the right of Roman and pulling him closer.

“I love you,” Remus says, a murmur into Roman’s ear.

Love.

Roman did not sleep.

#fic #remrom #sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #pleasedonthurtcjstar works #ngl I copied this straight from the doc. that’s why you have the giftee information

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tangiesjourney · 2 years

Text

Friday, June 24th, 2022

So I tried really hard and then I gave up and then I probably tried really hard and gave up 20 times after that. There have been so many days where I just wanted to give up and eat whatever I want and not care if I gained 200 pounds. And there were definitely a few too many days where I did just that. But then there were the days where I was just tired of being unhealthy. The older I get, the more health issues I seem to get. They're pretty much all minor but put together I can say I am definitely unhappy and at times just plain depressed.

The issues:

Headaches

Insomnia

Tinnitus

Jaw problems

Neck and shoulder pain and stiffness

Gut issues

Weak muscles

Sore knees

Restless legs

And today my left ankle was hurting

So yeah. I feel like shit all the time. And I basically feel like I’m going around in circles…

I know that exercise will help my depression and anxiety as well as help me to have better sleeps. Because of my insomnia, I'm always tired. When I'm too tired, it's hard for me to make healthy choices. When I make poor food choices it affects my depression and anxiety. When I become depressed, my sleep suffers even more than usual and I have zero interest in working out. What's a girl to do?

Oh wait - it gets better. I don't sleep much. On top of my insomnia I now have restless leg syndrome so lately I've been getting an average of 4 hours of sleep per night. Because of my stupid legs I spend a lot of time just walking around the living room in the middle of the night. And the longer I'm awake, the hungrier I get. So of course I want to eat but I'm exhausted and trying to be quiet so it's too convenient to grab a bag of something or make some popcorn. Lately ice cream has been a particular favourite.

Okay enough of the bullshit and time for reality. I don't believe I'm actually capable of being healthy or happy. I have finally come to the realization that until I believe that I can do it AND THAT I DESERVE IT, I don't think it's ever going to happen. So that’s what I’m working on now. Honestly, that’s what I’ve been working on for years and I’ll probably never stop.

I was thinking of posting measurements and stuff but ugh. I’m 158 pounds- not the heaviest I’ve ever been but this is definitely the most out of shape I’ve ever been. Maybe I’ll do some measurements when I don’t feel like crying. Trying to work out is depressing in itself- I just can’t do what I used to do. Lifting heavy, 2.5k in under 20 minutes, being sooo flexible. I doesn’t help that I’m still getting over covid. Oh yeah, I also got covid. So maybe measurements tomorrow. Or next week. I need the starting point even if this is my millionth starting point.

Bottom line….. I haven’t officially given up until I’ve officially given up. And that’s not today bitches.

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #marvel #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tony stark

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ppersonna · 3 years

Text

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults.

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow.

“What’s got you so perky this morning?”

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead.

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness.

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts.

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag.

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams.

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer.

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words.

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists.

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares.

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer.

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces.

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”.

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?”

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches.

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic.

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help.

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?”

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply.

“Yes, I would l-love that.”

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away.

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey!

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp.

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?”

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes.

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.”

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off.

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer

#kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon #bts smut #bts fics #namjoon smut #out of my league #knj #knj smut #rap monster smut #JOOOOOOOOOONie

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little-spoiled-brat · 3 years

Note

Love your writing. Could you write about levi being overprotective of his pregnant s/o

pairing: levi x reader

cw: a really protective levi, fluff <3

author's note: anyone recognize the title?👀

- one plus one equals three -

erwin had ordered you to start your maternity leave after refusing to go take said leave for a month now. being 4 month pregnant, the baby bump was starting to show and even though you were still capable of moving around, they didn't want to risk you getting hurt.

besides, this was the first baby the survey corps ever had. not to mention that it was a baby of ackerman blood, it was understandable that they would be so protective over you.

if you were being honest, you felt useless — doing nothing but sit on your ass all day because no one allows you to lift a single finger. especially levi.

you weren’t complaining though, having everything done for you was fun but it made you feel very useless around the headquarters. everything was done for you and by everything, you mean everything — even as simple as making a sandwich.

"levi, i'm bored. can i clean your office?" you whined for the nth time, watching him do his paperworks while you were sprawled out on the couch in his office.

"tch. whatever you want to do, brat" levi grumbled, not even looking up at you. you suddenly sat up, he's actually letting you do something for once?

"wait, really?" you asked, surprised that you were actually getting allowed to do something that doesn't consist of sitting on your ass the entire time.

"no. you really think i would let you clean? your clumsy self may slip and fall and you might get hurt" levi reasoned, looking up from his paperworks to look at you. you groaned, laying back down on the couch.

levi‘s eyes softened at your slightly pouted lips as he stood up from his chair and headed over to you on the couch.

“i feel so useless around here” you admitted, looking at him as he took a seat by your feet. he lifted your legs up so it was draped across his lap and began to massage your feet and legs.

”i know, brat, but you know i can’t risk you getting hurt especially now that you’re pregnant, i don’t want anything bad happen to you or the smaller brat” levi said, gently putting his hand on top of your slowly growing baby bump and sighed. you put your hands on top of his, drawing small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb.

”and you need to take care of yourself and the baby slowly growing inside of you“ levi pointed out as you sighed once again — he was right, as always.

“i know that, i just wish someone would let me do something a little productive. like make myself a snack or get you tea. the only thing i feel like i’m allowed to do since i went on maternity leave a week ago was shower and sleep“ you said softly as levi chuckled lightly and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

“how about this, you help me clean around the office then you can make me tea and get yourself a sandwich afterwards?” levi suggested as your eyes lit up, inmediately nodding at his suggestion.

”deal! i’m sweeping the floor“ you said, immediately standing up from the couch and grabbing the broom that was in the corner of the room.

levi’s arms instinctively reached out when you suddenly stood up from the couch, his natural instincts to protect you from accidentally hurting yourself immediately kicking in.

he sighed a sigh of relief upon seeing that you were in fact, capable of handling yourself with no support needed — but still, he kept a close eye on you just in case you trip over some dust you fail to see.

you began to happily sweep the floor, a contented sigh leaving your lips at the feeling of being able to do chores again. levi chuckled to himself seeing how happy you got after being allowed to do something for the first time in a week.

he began cleaning too, doing most of the work so you don’t have to. the two of you cleaned his office until it was spotless like usual. you finished after an hour, being extra motivated to clean definitely helping with getting the task done quickly.

“tea?” you asked, heading to your shared bedroom to get to the mini kitchen as levi nodded. he followed closely behind, arms ready to catch you just in case.

yeah, he was that overprotective.

“do you also want a sandwich? i’m gonna make myself one“ you asked, turning to him while you started to boil the water for his tea.

“or two” you added with a chuckle, looking down at your slight bump and remembering that you now have to eat for two: yourself and the baby in your tummy. levi chuckled at you before nodding once again.

”three then” you said, grabbing everything you need to make the sandwiches. levi sat on the couch that was in your shared bedroom, watching you like a hawk and being cautious of anything that may potentially harm you.

you quickly made the sandwiches and steeped his tea before grabbing a small knife with the intention of cutting the sandwiches. levi was by your side within a millisecond of holding the knife in your hand.

“nope. you’re not doing that. you might stab yourself“ levi said, grabbing the knife from your hands and gently pushing you out of the way before cutting the sandwiches for you. you playfully glared at him and shrugged it off.

he also finished the tea, ushering you to go sit on the couch while he brought everything to the coffee table in front of the couch.

he sat down next to you and you both began to munch on your sandwiches. levi wrapped his arm around your waist and gently pulled you closer to him, keeping his hand on top of your tummy afterwards.

“can i do this more often?“ you asked, biting into your sandwich and looking up at him. levi hummed in reply, sipping on his tea.

“that depends, if you’re going to be careful and not hold knives next time“ levi said, half serious and you chuckled. you can live with that, it was better than doing nothing.

”that’s a deal” you said, munching on your sandwich again and resting your head on levi’s shoulder.

”i know i’ve been so overprotective over you these past few months and it might come off as a bit too much but i just don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby, i’m not going to forgive myself if something does“ levi said and you craned your neck a bit to look at him.

”i didn’t have anyone protecting me growing up, i always had to protect myself from the horrors of this world and i don’t want you and our child to be the same as i was before — scared and always feeling unsafe. i want to protect the both of you until my dying breath because you both mean so much to me“ levi continued as you stared at him — at loss for words. sure, levi was always open to you, saying what’s on his mind and telling you how he feels but this caught you off guard. you were simply not expecting him to say that.

“i-i’m sorry, what i said p-probably didn’t make any sense-“ levi rambled but you cut him off by gently pressing your lips against his.

“i understand” you said, a smile on your face as levi cupped your cheeks tenderly and you leaned into his touch. you understood him, completely.

“i love you so much“ you whispered and levi smiled, gently pressing his lips on yours as the both of you moved in sync.

“i love you so much“ levi whispered, kissing your forehead lovingly afterwards. he moved to your stomach, gently lifting your shirt a bit to reveal the small baby bump and pressing a kiss onto your tummy also.

”and i love you too, smaller brat“

#levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman #aot fluff #aot #aot x reader #aot x y/n #attack on titan #snk fluff #snk x y/n #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

could you do some angsty smut please??

oh hell yeah we can. this is going to be 70srockstar!harry with roadie!y/n eekkkk! okay have fun;

Being the girlfriend of the most famous, golden boy rockstar was the craziest rollercoaster you’d ever ride.

For the past 6 months you’ve been touring with the one and only Harry Styles, living your life between helping on tour, drinking endless amounts of wine and smoking a hell of a lot of weed. The job had come past you at the perfect moment. Your dad happened to be best friends with the tour manager, Jeff Azoff, who’d spoken of their being a job opening for a roadie. You were employed to help set up the musical equipment and test out the instruments before the act went on at night, falling in love for the man you roadied for was just an add on. A beautiful bonus.

It was a lot more pressure being Harry’s girlfriend than people thought though. There was so much pressure to act a certain way and present yourself another way. Harry was so idolised and craved by millions and it put pressure on you to be a certain person for him. You loved him so much and you were so scared that he might one day realise that there was so much better than you - at least in your eyes. Someone extroverted. Someone musically talented. Someone who wasn’t a virgin.

Harry had never pressured you into anything sexual unless you were ready. Of course he was notorious for being an above star rating, when it came fo sex - thanks to all the articles published by the many men and women, sometimes both together, he had slept with. The sex reputation went hand-in-hand with his rock-n-roll aesthetic, so that part of him would never change. You’d only been with Harry for 4 of those 6 months, managing to fall for him very quickly, so you wondered just how he was coping without having had sex for that long. He usually had a different person each night to take backstage after his concert to play with how he wanted, hence how he built his reputation, but since you there had been no one.

Sex was such a big thing for Harry though, so you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Currently, you were sat on his bed on the tour bus reading an article that had been published about your boyfriend last week. Your heart strings tugged as you read one section of the interview.

Interviewer: The new album, tell me about it.

Harry: It’s coming on slowly yeah. Just want this one to be perfect so, taking my time.

Interviewer: What would you say your biggest inspiration is for writing?

Harry: Changed on every project, to be honest man. Sometimes it’s about past relationships. Sometimes it’s about issues i’m going through. A lot of the time it’s about sex!

Interviewer: Yeah, dude, I have noticed that like every other song is about sex. Is that something you’re quite open about?

Harry: I think sex can be either something so beautiful or so passionate. Don’t believe in sad sex! But, um, yeah i’m always really honest lyrically when it comes to the songs about sex and I hope others see it as that too.

Interviewer: No it definitely does! Thanks Harry for your time and, um, keep on having sex so that third album breaks even more records!

Harry: Will do man!

It was easy to understand why you were upset. Harry’s biggest inspiration wasn’t possible for this album, because you were too nervous to let him have you. All of you. You felt a burden, as if you were holding him back from living his life and creating something so amazing. His past two albums had been such hits for songs such as ‘She’ and ‘Only Angel’, which were inspired by the intimate times with past lovers. There would only be sad songs if he wrote an album without any spice.

That’s why as soon as Harry came back on the bus, dressed in shorts and a shirt that was unbuttoned to see his toned chest, you jumped him and kissed him like your life depended on him. He was taken back by surprise, but welcomed your lips nevertheless.

Pulling back he mumbled some words against your lips, “Well this is a nice welcome back gift.” He chuckled at the eagerness of your lips and let his hands roam over your body - from your neck to your waist and over your ass. This man knew what he was doing.

“Harry?” You whispered, stopping your kiss and looking at his beautiful swollen red lips. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah baby?” He kept himself close to you and you could feel the stiffie that he’d developed pressing against your front.

“Can we… I’m.. If you…”

“What baby? Can tell me anything, y’know that.”

“Wanna have sex with you.” You told him the most simple virgin way ever, your face heating up when you saw him smirking down at you. You’d screwed yourself over here and were getting all shy and embarrassed about it.

“Hey, no. Don’t hide from me,” He drew your face back to his and kept his eyes on yours to provide you some familiar comfort, “you sure?”

“Mhm, yes.” You nodded affirmatively.

“It might hurt a little, okay? First time means that your cute little pussy is going to be really tight. Don’t even know whether you’ll be able to take me.” He taunted you, cupping his hands to your cheeks and brushing his thumbs carefully over your skin to ease your tension.

“I w-will.” You moused out, wanting to be this person for him.

“‘Course you can. You’re my best girl and I know you’ll fit perfectly for me, yeah?” He rhetorically asked pushing you back to the bed and letting you flop there. You watched him as he discarded his clothes, following his lead, until you were both naked in front of each other. You’d been this far before, but this time it felt different. It felt more lustful and exposed and nerve-wracking.

Harry bent down and started to kiss you from your belly upwards, leaving kisses everywhere until he reached your jaw where he bit more than he kisses. He loved seeing his marks being left behind on your skin, proving to everyone that you were his and his alone. His hands found comfort ins kneading and squeezing your breasts like dough, loving the way they were so soft and yet so hard beneath his warm hands. As he found your lips and divulged in your sweet tastes, you slunk your hand down and grabbed ahold of his cock, pumping him a few times to get him primed. You felt the trickles of pre-cum drip from his tip and it only excited you even more.

Taking your lead, Harry pushed one of his hands in between your bodies and started playing with your wet cunt, paying extra attention to your needy clit. He knew you loved it when his fingers got rough, so that’s exactly how he played. His tongue was battling against yours, whilst you both stimulated pleasure to one another. The wet and beautiful sounds filled the room, heightening your arousal - Harry could feel it too, his fingers becoming wetter with every circle and pump of his fingers.

“You ready, baby?” He asked carefully, plucking his lips away from yours with a wet sounding smack. You already looked fucked out and he had barely done anything to you yet.

“Y-yes.” You stumbled, so excited yet so nervous. You were finally going to give Harry what he had been missing for so long and you were also going to let yourself go, and divulge in something new and potentially life-changing.

He leant back and rubbed his own cock for a few strokes, before lining the tip of it with your opening. He teased your entrance, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He smiled down at you and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ without any sounds leaving his lips, before you did the same. The head of his cock started to push in, but you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Shit fuck, y’so tight baby. Need you to relax for me, okay?” He asked, pulling away so he could watch your body relax. You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe, reminding yourself that the best way to relax is not to think about the problem itself but oh how you’d feel when the problem’s fixed. You smiled and once Harry could see your shoulders un-tense, he, once again, pushed his cock into your opening. He hissed at the contact, obviously finding it so pleasurable even if it was only minimal contact, but you, you felt so much pain and soreness from absolutely nothing.

You couldn’t do this.

“It should just…” Harry tried a different angle, but your smile had disappeared and your whole range of emotions had resumed to flat and disappointed in yourself. “Maybe if I just..” Harry tried to hold your legs a little wider and guide his cock more firmly into your opening, but each time he couldn’t push past a certain point without your body rejecting him or your facial expressions telling him he should stop.

“St-stop Harry please.” You cried, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you let the tears flow freely. “Please stop.”

“O-okay. Just gonna…” And he slid out as much as he’d managed to get in, which was probably less than an inch. It hurt when he pulled away and your cunt felt like it was on fire. It stung and it didn’t feel right. You felt like a failure and an embarrassment.

You cried into your arms, letting harsh sobs take over your body. You chest felt tight and your eyes stung worse than your cunt did. God, you couldn’t even do one thing for him. You were the reason why he was having a hard time writing at the moment. You were the reason people would be disappointed to hear no sex inspired songs on the album. He might even have to use past experiences as inspiration, which made your heart curl with jealousy. You didn’t feel like you were enough for him, like you would ever be enough for him.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” You sat up from the bed, not wanting to look at him and his disappointed expression as he stay knelt on the bed - cock looking painfully hard still. You scrambled for your t-shirt and your joggers and then walked out of the room, across the bus’ narrow corridor, and into the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in then mirror and were disappointed at what, or who, you saw. Looking back at you was the person who couldn’t even have sex. You couldn’t give Harry what he deserved. You were a failure and it was stamped all over your body. You cried as you looked at yourself, until you couldn’t and you just slid down the wall and onto the floor. You wished for the Earth to just swallow you whole. You couldn’t stand being here when you were clearly broken and useless.

Harry would surely leave you for this. Why would he want to stay with someone who couldn’t even get their boyfriends dick in their pussy? Couldn’t give each other that pleasure? Harry had so many people in the past and surely with you gone he’d have so many people in the future. It would be selfish of you to stay. Harry had needs you completely appreciated that, but it would be just so difficult to let him go when he means so much to you.

There was a quiet knock at the door, which broke you from your cries and self-deprecating. “Y/N? Baby honey? Can I come in, please?”

“S-sorry. Yes of c-course.” You stood up quickly, thinking that he was wanting to be let in to go to the toilet or to have a cold shower go get rid of the hard-on that you’d put there. Too bad you couldn’t have taken it away.

You unlocked the door and shuffled past him, only for him to stop you. He shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you both infinitely pressed together in the pathway on the bus. He had you pressed you up against the side of the wall and kept his arms at either side of you.

“Sweets—”

“Harry, please don’t say anything. I-I know what you’re thinking and—”

“Yeah? And what am I thinking?” He asked, not moving away from you. You held your cries the best you could and took a deep breathe to continue.

“I’m a disappointment. I-I i’m not good enough. I’m broken.” You choked out, knocking your head back against the wall from frustration.

“Stop it.” Harry ordered firmly, gripping your cheeks in his hands and forcing you to look at him. The look in his eyes was so hard to read, but he looked desperate and worried and hurt. You hated to think that you were the cause of any of those emotions. “Just stop.” Harry’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears too and you brought your own hand up to catch a few of them before they could fall.

“Don’t cry, please.” You begged, keeping your hand pressed to his cheek which he absolutely adored. He loved the feeling of your skin against his. He never wanted to not have it.

“Then don’t say things that hurt me, okay? Hearing you say those things about yourself absolutely breaks m’heart flower. Just because you were a bit too tight to take me today does not mean that you’re a disappointment or you’re a failure or that you’re not good enough. It hurts to think that you’d ever think I would think that, because - fuck -,” Harry pressed his forehead tight against yours and fanned his lips lips over yours. His closeness was everything. “I love you so much it scares me. My feelings for you are so strong and so real. I want your forever and something as trivial as sex is never going to make me want otherwise. Do you get that?”

“B-but the album?” You asked.

“What about the album?”

“I-in the recent magazine interview you said that sex is your biggest i-inspiration. I can’t be that for you.”

“Is that what this is all about? Because you think that my album isn’t coming together because i’m not having sex? Did you miss the part where I said I wanted this one to be perfect and I was taking m’time with it?”

“No.”

“Well I did say that, because it’s for you baby. The whole thing is going to be for you. Every melody. Every lyric. Every song. Just and all for you.” Both of you were silently crying now, absorbed in each others love and adoration for one another.

“I-I didn’t know.”

“Now you do. This album isn’t really for the charts or the awards. It’s for you, m’heart. I love you for a lot more than your body and its’ pleasures.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking all his words in and realising how irrationally you’d acted out afterwards.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For even thinking that you’d be so shallow and cold-hearted.”

“You didn’t think that though, baby. I know you and so I know you didn’t. Your thoughts were based around your own insecurities, not to do with your small-thinking over me.” He explained to you, making you nod and kick your lips.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Well then we don’t deserve each other.”

“But i’ll keep you forever if you’d let me.”

“Looks like we’re together forever then, baby honey.”

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Lost Time (The Ashes of Yourself Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempts/ideation, swearing, daddy/abandonment issues

Word count: 3,879

You and Techno stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, both of you not knowing what to say to each other. So much was left unsaid between you two throughout your childhoods and the past four years that you didn’t know where to even start. You supposed a simple ‘how are you?’ would suffice, but that’d be too simple, far too simple for not talking to each other in literal years. But you couldn’t just say ‘hey, I’m incredibly jealous that you are Dad’s favorite and I totally didn’t send you my suicide note that you may or may not have seen’, that’d be way too much trauma dumping for your taste. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you chose to sheepishly grin at him and awkwardly wave.

“Heh uh, how’re you…?” Smooth, (y/n). Real smooth.

You watched as he furrowed his brows slightly before he hesitantly gave you a small wave with his gargantuan pink hand. “...I’m doin alright. You?”

“I’ve seen better days.”

“Right…”

An awkward silence fell over you two as you glanced down at your bloodied hands. “Sorry bout the blood. It won’t really stop until I stop moving.”

He shrugged, “that’s fine. I’ve bled everywhere in this house. Nothing that won’t come out.”

“Alright then.”

You wanted to crawl into a pit and just let yourself die, you hated this awkward atmosphere you created. Your mind scrambled to find something to say to the man other than a stupid ‘alright then’. You haven’t even seen him in four years, surely you would be able to find something to talk about. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him clear his throat.

“I uh got some clothes for you. They’re Tommy’s old clothes from when he stayed with me during his exile. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but I’m guessing that they’re better than the wet ones you’re wearing.”

When he saw you wince when you tried to stand up, he rushed to your side and helped you stand up. You could feel the backs of your knees start to drip blood. “Do you have any spare lava?”

His hands paused on your upper arms, “yes, but why would you need it?”

“It kinda heals me. I mean, just enough that my skin stops cracking open and bleeding everywhere.”

“Why don’t we just take you to a lava lake in the Nether?”

You glanced out the window at the flurry of snowflakes falling to the ground and being whisked off to other places by the harsh wind. You shuttered, remembering what it felt like to be fully engulfed in water. “Water hurts. I don’t want to get burnt out again.”

“Right, I’ll go get a few buckets full. Stay here,” with that, he ushered you to sit in front of the fire once again and draped the large blanket over your shoulders again. You could hear him move to another room and rustle around what you presumed was a chest before you heard his heavy footsteps walking behind the couch. You could hear the billowing of the wind when he opened the door before it was cut off by the door closing.

You leaned forward and put your hands in the fire, relishing in the feeling of the flames melting away the charred skin slightly. The flames licked and caressed your dark skin slowly giving you more feeling back in the damaged tissue. As you were turning your hands over the flames, you thought about your voluntary near death experience just about an hour before.

The thought of the ocean finally taking you and dragging your charcoaled corpse into its depths never to be seen again was alluring. After feeling the intense pain and the suffocation that came with chucking yourself into the ocean when you’re part blaze was definitely a deterrent, but you just had to push through the pain. This was something you’d dreamt of doing since you were fifteen and you’d be damned if you were going to let pain stop you.

You know you felt sort of… grateful that Philza saved you when you were laying on that beach, but now that you had time to reflect on what happened, you felt resentful that he did. Of course he’d take away the only good thing you had going on in your life, he was full of audacity and impudence when you were a kid. He hasn’t changed at all much to your disappointment. You shouldn’t have expected him to change in the first place, that was just something that you knew in the back of your mind would never happen. A large part of you craved his approval and affection, but you knew that wouldn’t happen.

Your thoughts were cut off by someone pulling you back gently from the fire. “I got the lava. Uh, I can set up an area for you downstairs with netherrack.”

“No, you don’t have to, I just have to put it on my joints for a few minutes.”

“Don’t you want to, uh, fully cover yourself?”

“I can hold off until the snowstorm dies down. It’s nothing too major.” You dipped your hands into the large bucket of lava and sighed in relief, “that’s much better, thank you Technoblade.”

“It’s no problem, but you literally just almost died. How is that something that’s ‘not major’?”

“I’m used to… well, this,” you took a hand out of the lava and gestured to your stone covered arm. “It’s just more than I’m used to. Kinda uncomfortable, but I’ll live.”

“What do you mean you’re used to it? You don’t live by water do you?”

“Yeah, I live by the ocean so I’m bound to get a little charred. No big deal,” you took your hands out of the bucket, shook the excess lava off, and stuck your elbows in. You looked at your now dully glowing hand and wiggled your fingers. There were more blackened scars etched into your skin on your joints, but you didn’t care.

“Heh? Why the hell would you live by an ocean?”

You wove your hands nonchalantly in the air, “I always liked how the water looked when the sun set. The way that the pinks and yellows would reflect and bounce off the waves? Breathtaking.” You also lived by the ocean so that you had an easy way out of living, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Too much trauma dumping.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Have you ever seen the sun setting over the ocean?” You rose a brow at the piglin hybrid sitting on the couch.

“Well, no but-”

“Then you can’t knock it till you try it. I’ll take you to my old place after I can take a proper lava bath. You won’t regret it, promise.”

“Still, you’re literally made of fire. Look what happened to you… Er, speaking of, how’d this happen?” He looked you up and down inquisitively with his red eyes.

You sighed as you took your elbows out of the lava and dipped your feet into the buckets. “...Do you still have your communicator?”

You watched as his floppy ear flicked and his eyebrow rose at you, “...Yes, but I only talk to Dad. Why, did you leave me a message?” Before he could stand up to grab his communicator, you stopped him with a hand on his shin. “No, I didn’t. I was just wondering.”

He didn’t look convinced, “...tell me what happened. Were you pushed?”

Your shoulders tensed up against your will before you forced them to relax. “I fell in, got too close to the edge.”

“You’re so lucky Dad was already at your house, you could’ve died. How could you be so careless?”

You only responded with a blaze-like frustrated grunt that rumbled in the back of your throat and removed your feet from the buckets. Picking up one of the buckets, you took a swig of the lava. The viscous liquid crawled slowly down your throat and soothed your burned esophagus and stomach. Clearing your throat, you looked over to your estranged brother. He was looking at you with disgust, his snout scrunched up slightly and his mouth twisted into a grimace.

“What?” Your voice sounded less strained and scratchy. Overall, it felt better to speak.

“Your- your feet were just in there. That’s disgusting.”

You blew out a puff of smoke and watched as it drifted to the ceiling, “my feet were just in water, remember? They’re clean. And besides, I swallowed and inhaled a lot of water so I needed it. I mean, my lungs are still stone, but there’s nothing I can do about it except wait it out.”

“That’s still gross. Wait, can you not drink water?”

“No- well technically I can, but it hurts. Gimme one sec.”

He was quiet as he watched you take a deep breath and dunk your entire head into the lava bucket you weren’t drinking from. His youngest sibling was… strange, but he found that he enjoyed your company so far. The only company he’s had at his cabin recently was his brothers and dad, which burned him out slightly with their big personalities. You were as awkward as he was and that was refreshing. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty after hearing the majority of yours and Philza’s argument. Now that he thought back on his childhood, the majority of his memories were of him and Philza. He didn’t have many negative memories past his adoption, and that was because he spent all of his time adventuring with Philza. He did everything with his adoptive father and absolutely nothing with his siblings. He knew nothing about Wilbur, well Ghostbur now, or Tommy until they stayed with him during Tommy’s exile. He’s never talked to you or spent any time with you before, and he wanted to get to know who you were. He wanted to make up for lost time.

After you were under for a while, he started to worry that you drowned yourself. Just as he was about to pull your head out of the bucket with a hand close to your forehead, you slowly removed your head from the lava and held it over the bucket so that the excess would drip off from you. Panting slightly, you sat up fully and wiped your eyes clean of the lava. You could hear some rustling in front of you so you opened your eyes to see your brother holding out clothes to you.

“Go change, I’ll make dinner. There’s a spare room upstairs, second door on the left. You can stay there for now.”

You hesitated before you took the clothes from him, “I… Thank you Techno.” You weren’t expecting him to be so kind to you, he was known as the blood god after all. He was ruthless when he battled, leaving thousands without families. You saw him a couple of times when you were younger coming home with Philza covered in blood with a malicious expression on his face. That always made you try to avoid him; not that you had any difficulty doing that, he was never home.

He curtly nodded before he turned to walk into where you assumed was the kitchen. You trudged up the stairs and tiredly drug your feet down the hallway towards the second door on the left. When you opened the door, you were pleasantly surprised. You didn’t know what you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was simplistic, yet it looked like a professional decorated it.

The bed looked incredibly comfortable and soft with a large white comforter draped over the top. At both sides of the headboard, twin chests sat underneath double hung windows with wooden frames that matched the spruce planks that made up the walls. You were sure that once the relentless snowstorm stopped you would be able to see a spruce forest in the distance. Lanterns hung at the far corners of the room opposite of where the bed sat. Glancing at the opposite wall, you saw a framed portrait of a nether fortress. You assumed that it was the nether fortress on the other side of his portal. If you squinted, you could see orange specks that you assumed were blazes.

After you got dressed, you were pleasantly surprised to see that Tommy’s clothes fit you. Despite the slight bagginess of the pants and the sleeves of the jumper hanging halfway past your hands, they fit relatively well. Humming in satisfaction, you hung up your wet clothes to dry and made your way downstairs following the savory smell of cooking meat and potatoes. Your mouth watered at the smell, it’s been a while since you’ve eaten an actual meal. You’d just been surviving on an apple a day with the occasional potato when you had some leftover from making homemade vodka.

You walked into the kitchen and looked at your brother standing at the stove, the stove looked miniscule compared to his seven and a half foot tall form. That man was a giant and you wouldn’t be lying if his height alone didn’t intimidate you slightly. If he wanted, he could grab your entire face with his hand. Various light pink scars decorated his muscular arms that poked out from the rolled up sleeves of his blouse. He wasn’t wearing his huge fluffy cloak, instead it was draped over the back of one of the chairs at the large wooden dining table. Every part of your body wanted to take it, wrap yourself up into a blaze hybrid burrito, and take the best nap you’ve ever had. His corseted form moved gracefully around the kitchen grabbing various spices and herbs.

You saw his ears twitch before he moved his massive head to look back at you, you could see the corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly. “They fit you, that’s good. Take a seat, dinner's almost ready.” With that, you took a seat at the table. You felt like a child again, the table was huge, the tabletop coming up to your lower chest. The table and chairs were made of what looked like dark oak wood. The wood was carved intricately with complex patterns etched into the frame and the back of the chairs.

You eyed the cape draped over the chair next to you. It was a deep royal red with black speckled white fur lining the border of the fabric. If you looked closely, you could see that the pendant that connected the two ends was made of gold and had a diamond encrusted center. It looked incredibly soft, it would be so easy to just reach out with a finger to pet it. Your brother wouldn’t notice if you did it quick enough so that you could touch it before he turned around. When you gathered the courage to touch the cloak, you reached out with a slightly shaking hand to pet the fur, watching Technoblade the entire time.

Everytime he would move to grab a spice, you would quickly retract your hand and try to act as innocent as possible only to try again after he didn’t turn around again. Just as you finally touched the fabric, you were in awe with how soft it was. It was like petting a newborn puppy but better. You truly couldn’t put into words how soft it was.

You were snapped out of your trance by a small chuckle, “soft isn’t it?” You jumped, quickly retracting your hand and smacking your head against the back of your chair in the process. You could feel your cheeks heat up more than they usually did, you could see the glow of orange intensify at the bottom of your vision. Your brother was staring at you with amusement, his mouth quirked up in a small smile. He was carrying two plates full of steak and potatoes, putting one in front of you before walking to sit opposite of you.

“Uh, yeah. It- it’s really soft.”

“I got it from a nation thousands of blocks from here, it wasn’t easy to get. Those guards were not happy to see me stealing from their king.” He chuckled before he started to eat his food.

“Is that where you got the crown too?”

“No, Dad got it for me as a going away present when I moved out… You’ve grown up so much since I’ve last seen you. I remember when you barely reached my waist and now you’re only about a foot and a half shorter than me.”

“You’ve gotten taller also, more scars too.”

“You as well. Are all those from water?”

“Yeah, it only scars when I crack the stone on my skin though.”

“Ouch. So like you get scars whenever you move?”

You shrugged, “basically.” Turning to your plate, you struggled with not wolfing down the entire thing in one go. You didn’t want to have your brother get the impression you had bad table manners. Wilbur raised you better than that. When you took a bite of the stake, you moaned slightly at the taste. Quickly swallowing your mouthful, you looked at your brother with wide eyes. “Ender Tech, where’d you learn to cook? It’s delicious.”

He gave you a small bashful smile and shrugged, “when you’ve been living alone for this long you pick up on a few things.”

“I’ve been living alone for about a year now and I still can’t cook.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “well what do you eat then?”

“Just an apple a day, maybe a potato too if I have any to spare.”

He narrowed his eyes, “how the hell are you still alive? That’s hardly enough.”

You blankly stared at your plate, “I’ve been asking myself that everyday, things aren’t… amazing living alone. Uh, let’s talk about happier things. I wanna get to know you.”

He stared at you for a while before he sighed, “fine, but we’re talking about this later. How do you wanna go about getting to know each other?”

“It’s gonna be hard cuz we have like seventeen years to catch up on, but I think we can do it. Let’s… let’s play the favorites game. We take turns naming a category and we both say what our favorite thing in that is. I’ll start, what’s your favorite type of mythology? Like Greek, Egyptian, Norse…”

His eyes lit up at the mention of mythology, “I like Greek mythology. I can talk for hours about it.”

“Nice! I personally like Norse mythology better, we have to exchange myths sometime.”

“My turn, what’s your favorite myth?”

You matched his excitement, “I really like the Ragnarok myth. The fact that the gods know of their impending doom and destruction and are actively working towards it is- is just really intriguing. What’s yours?”

You both abandoned your meals as your conversation diverged into telling each other various myths from your respective favorite mythologies. Your favorite ones he told you were the tales of Orpheus and Eurydice, Persephone and Hades, and Psyche and Eros. You were a sucker for romance even if the thought of you being in a relationship was something you were uncomfortable thinking about. Romance stories just made you happy to see people finding comfort and fulfillment in each other. You told him more about Ragnarok, the creation of Mjolnir, and the murder of Baldur.

Before you two knew it, hours passed by. Your untouched dinners grew cold and the clock struck midnight startling both of you out of your story telling. You both looked at the grandfather clock then back at each other in shock, “we’ve been talking for four hours Tech.”

“Yeah, we did. It- it was nice talking about mythology. Usually people get bored when I talk about it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ender, I know. Why don’t they find it as interesting as we do? It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to talk to, it’s nice.”

“We better go to bed, we can just eat a bigger breakfast tomorrow before we take you to the Nether and your house. You probably want to sleep in your own bed.”

You laughed nervously, “yeah about that… I don’t really have a bed anymore. Or an actual house for that matter.”

“The fuck happened?”

“I may have burnt it down accidentally.”

He was silent for a bit before he looked at you suspiciously. “Are you gonna burn my house down?” And there’s the thing you hated most when you told people of your lineage and abilities. They always believe that you’re a being of destruction and inferno. They always grow to not trust you around them or their possessions fearing you would burn them to a crisp. You cursed your biological parents daily for giving you these genes.

You shrunk in on yourself slightly, “no, I’d never do that to you. I’m in control as long as I keep my emotions in check. Can’t get too excited, scared, or happy. I just can’t do anything extreme and my temperature stays low.”

He grunted, nodding in satisfaction. “We probably should get to sleep soon if we wanna get stuff done before the family reunion.”

“I forgot about that… Have you met the kid Phil’s gonna adopt?”

He drew in a long breath into his nose and huffed it out of his mouth. “Yeah, his name’s Ranboo. And he’s actually only about half a year younger than you are. I don’t know how to feel about him yet, but he seems like he has good intentions.”

You drug a hand through the flames idly flickering on your head, “is Phil seriously gonna adopt another kid? I don’t think it’s a good idea for him.”

“That’s what I thought, I don’t need any more orphans running around here. You, Tommy, and Wilbur are more than enough. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

With that, you picked up your plates and took them to the kitchen. Before you could turn on the water faucet, a hand on your shoulder stopped you. “I’ll get it. You can’t be around this stuff.”

“A little water won’t hurt me. It’s the least I could do, you made dinner.”

“A little water will hurt you. Go to bed, I’ll handle this. It’s only two dishes.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but it snapped shut as soon as he gave you a warning look. “Go to bed (y/n).”

“...Aright, thank you for doing that. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

He grunted as you walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the guest room. You walked straight to the bed and plopped down onto the surface. You felt sort of bad that you were rubbing soot off onto the white comforter from your still charcoaled skin, but it was nothing that you couldn’t clean in the morning. The bed was extremely comfortable, a stark contrast to your old one. Your old one had lumps and some exposed bedsprings sticking out of the fabric. With the weight of the heavy comforter and the plush mattress, you were out like a light.

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@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@appetiteofapeoplepleaser @misfortunatem00n @hee-hee-haw @bi-narystars @akikko-yataro @snapple311 @jo171718 @alex--awesome--22 @cinnamonmochi @waterstrawberry @jefferyepsteindidntkillhimself @imamusicalnerd @fo-love @sylumarts @theshitinmytrunk @rinzyx05 @wasteofspacze @bands-are-amazingly-addicting @im-a-depressed-gay @charlotte-is-missing @s-n1428 @lifestylesleep @dame-sunflowers @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @aestheticpkmntrainer @emma-the-duck17 @pek0ra @wreny24 @willow404 @shiningsunrises @vanhakirja @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander @soulless42 @giavanna

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #ghostbur x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #sibling reader #platonic #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: suicide attempt #tw: swearing #tw: abandonment issues #tw: daddy issues #tw: depression #tw: blood

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citrus-simp · 3 years

Note

Hope everything is okay. I just wanted to say I love your writing and both blogs :) if you ever do open requests again, and even if you do you don’t have to write this. But how about a drabble of levi and his wife who have 2 sons and 1 daughter named Kutchel who is 3/4. Levi loves all his kids but kinda has a soft spot for kutchel🥺 and sometimes her brothers exclude her from play n are mean to her so she comes up to him trembling like “why won’t they play w me daddy”. Cue levi. Rest is up to u.

{AN}-> first of all, thank you so much for the love and support and of course for reading my work! And yes I am doing better thank you for the wishes! I am and ULTIMATE simp for papa Levi!

=================================

"I'm home" Levi called out as he slipped out of his work shoes and hung his blazer

"Dad! Look what I won today at practice!"

"Dad look at the grade I got o my test today!" your sons yell as they ran to their father holding up objects for him to look at.

Your eldest Liam who was 8 showed him what his football coach gave him, at practice. He had done very well and had gotten a button that said MVP on it, he was very proud of himself. Eli, your younger son who was 6, wanted him to know how well he was doing in his classes. He was top of his class and loved to show you both how hard he worked

"Congrats to both of you, I'm proud of you both for working so hard," he said ruffling their hair, gaining a big smile from them both

"Welcome home, Levi" you popped in with Kutchel in your arms, pecking Levi's lips. Your youngest and only daughter, Kutchel. She was 3, and definitely had Levi wrapped around her little finger.

The thing was, not only was she named after his mother, she looked so much like her! Of course, she had certain things from you but her eye shape, and nose were from his mother. Unfortunately, Levi lost his mother before Kutchel was born. It took a toll on him, all the things she had done to care for him, her sacrifice, everything.

He felt as though he was never able to repay her. Next thing you know about a year later, you found out about your pregnancy, with your first girl. The day she was born, Levi felt something he never had before. It was almost like he had completely healed from his loss when he looked at her.

"Papa!" she reached out for her father to take her, which he gladly did

"Hey there princess," he said kissing her chubby cheek "what did you do today?"

"Me and mama went to the park and I fed the birdies," she said with a rosy smile.

"Oh look at you doing big girl things! I'm so proud of you princess." he smiled at her and raised her above his head. Her brothers watching a bit disappointed from a distance.

Did they hate their sister? No. Their parents taught them to respect and love their sister, which they did. But at their age, jealousy was something big among siblings. Seeing how their father would be more affectionate towards their sister made them feel different. They saw that their father would gravitate more to their sister than to them. Or he would put her first before them when asked to spend time with them.

Of course, you had noticed this way before time. You had asked him when you were pregnant with Eli that he wouldn't have favorites and love all your kids equally. You knew that could make a bad relationship with his kids and between siblings so you wanted to avoid it. Sometimes you'd step in and try to give your sons the same praise, but of course, they still wanted their father's attention.

"Liam why don't you go and find a nice place to put that MVP button in your room, like a trophy" you try and lighten the mood "and Eli, I'm sure I have a frame for that test of yours" thank the god it actually worked as both boys run in different directions for each of their own things to do.

"Levi, did you see the boys' accomplishments?' you ask

"Y/N, I know where you're going with this. I paid attention to all of them, Liam is doing great in football, and Eli is practically a genius," he said putting down Kutchel

"*sigh* I know I just-"

"Want no one hurt I know, well how about you meet me in the kitchen and we can talk it out alright? Kutchel sweetheart, why don't you go and play with your brothers while I talk with mommy okay?" he said ruffling her hair

" 'Kay!" she said running up the stairs to where she'd find her brothers most likely.

"And what would this talk be about?" you ask raising an eyebrow as his hands found your waist

"Oh just about how I have some time to kiss you properly~"

" 'iam" Kutchel said as she enters his room, Eli in the same as they played together "can I pway with you and E-i?"

"No Kutchel, go away" Liam sneered "we don't play with babies"

"I'm not a baby!" she pouted

"Go away Kutchel, you're not smart enough to play this game either way," Eli said motioning to the board where he and his brother were playing chess "Maybe dad wants your company" Eli may be smart but he also got his father's sassy mouth

"B-but I wanna pway with you" he pouted trying not to cry as she sniffed

"Kutchel just go away, ugh you're so annoying when you cry"

"Yeah, and only babies cry."

"I-I not...a-a baby," she said as tears pooled in her eyes, of course, they would tease her playfully at times but this time Kutchel really did feel hurt

"Whatever, the only reason gives you so much attention is 'cause you were a mistake and he doesn't want you feeling bad" Eli sneered without thinking

"N-not true!" she stopped her feet as tears started to fall from her eyes, but she just couldn't handle any more ridicule from her brothers and left.

Meanwhile, you and Levi were in the kitchen caught in a makeout session when you heard a certain someone crying "Papa, mommy!"

It wasn't a regular call, she sounded hurt and heartbroken causing you both to separate quickly

"Kutchel, sweetheart what happened?" you ask as you kneel down and she crashes into your arm and lets out all her tears. Levi kneels beside you and strokes her back trying to comfort her some more

"P-papa, why won't 'iam let me play?" she asked her father as she peaked from your shoulder "T-they say I was a mistake.." she sniffed and you swore you could see the fire in his eyes. You stood up with Kutchel in your arms as Levi shot up and walked towards the stairs

"Levi! Levi, keep your anger in control, don't you dare-"

"Y/N, I won't do anything brash, but they can't say crap like that. I for sure didn't raise them this way. Just watch Kutchel, I'll talk to the boys"

Levi would NEVER lay a hand on his kids, but you didn't want him scolding either. However, they couldn't just say what they wanted to their sister thinking it was okay. Especially to the point of her crying.

"Come on baby, let's go watch the birds outside okay?"

Meanwhile, Levi is now knocking on Liam's door "Liam, Eli, come downstairs" he said while taking the lead waiting on them. He sat in a chair in front of the sofa and watched his sons take a seat. They looked like they knew what happened...

"Is there something you want to tell me? Like why Kutchel came to us crying? Asking if she was a mistake?" he said with a firm voice but not yelling at them. But enough to let them know he was very serious about the situation. Eli started to fidget with his fingers while looking down in his lap. Liam keeps eye contact with his father trying to keep a straight face.

"We didn't want to play with her so we said that so she'd leave..." Liam said

"That doesn't justify calling her a mistake. All three of you are here because your mother and I wanted you and we were happy as hell to have all of you."

"Even if you wanted all of us, it's not like you love all of us the same" Eli said crossing his arms

"Eli, that isn't-"

"you always put her first. Even if we come to you, whenever she comes you act more affectionate and happy with her just existing"

"We always have to do something just to get your attention...it sucks dad..." Liam added, "why can't you just love us how you love her?"

Levi was honestly hurt. He didn't want this to happen. He loved his sons to the moon and back. Maybe it was true that Kutchel got more attention from him but it didn't mean he didn't love them

"Boys, do you remember grandma?" Levi asked relaxing his posture a bit. Both boys nodded "Well, your sister looks a lot like my mother, it's why we gave her that name. I think I got attached to her in a way to cope with losing her. But I never want you to think I don't love you." he said kneeling in front of the two children

"The day you were both born were two of my happiest moments. You know I cried the first time you walked to me, Liam? And the day you told off Hanji made me laugh, Eli" he shared with them "I love Kutchel, but I also love you both to the end of my days. But I am sorry." he apologized opening his arms for them.

Hopping off the couch they have a warm group hug

"Alright, you two. I apologized but you still have some apologizing to do with your mother and sister," he said taking their hands and walking to the back porch where you sat with Kutchel

Levi clears his throat "You and Kutshcel have some visitors" he said with a nod to his hands

"Oh? What would these visitors like to say?" you ask in hope of a good outcome

"We're sorry we were mean to you Kutchel" Eli started

"Yeah, we didn't mean it, really. We were a little jealous but we never meant to hurt you. We love you" Liam followed

Kutchel pouted, not making eye contact "Really?" she asked

"Really really." they both offer a smile Kutchel jumps up from your arms and runs to hug her brothers. Walking over to Levi you kiss his shoulder and say

"Guess you'll be getting a reward for this accomplishment~"

===============================

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi as a father #levi ackerman as a dad #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x y/n #aot #snk #aot levi #snk levi #anime #anime x reader #anime fanfiction #fanfiction

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clairecrive · 3 years

Note

Hello beautiful person! Do you take requests which ask you to write a second chapter for your writings? If you do, may I ask a second chapter for "Rare"? And if you don't could you please let me know so I can be careful for another time when I ask a request?

I hope this is not something that disturbes or irritates you. I love your writing, it is beautiful and sometimes I read your pieces over and over again. 😁

Thanks for blessing us with your writing. Have a nice day.💕

A/n: First of all anon, thank you so very much for your sweet words! They mean the world to me <3 Also, your request could never irritate me! I love them and I love the fact that you consider me half a decent writer enough to send me your thoughts <3 I'm sorry it took me so long to get around this but I hope you like this and are still around to read it x

I've decided to pair it with a request for juicy time with Eddie. there's no actual smut but it's suggestive let's say.

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff,

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @for-bebbanburg, @crazyclownchick ( fill in this form to be added to my taglist)

Part 1

TOM HARDY MASTERLIST

You weren't exactly new to heartbreak. You had been a teenager after all but your experience with adult relationships had not been that good either.

You knew that you'd be over Eddie even if it may take you some time. It's true that you had only been dating for a few months but you had really grown attached to him. It was one of the things you hated about yourself: the way you got attached way too soon, way too much.

Especially, in this case, seeing as Eddie hadn't been 100% in it in the beginning you had hoped that the more time you'd spend together, he'd see that you weren't so bad and that he'd grow to care for you. At least a little bit.

Turns out you were wrong.

As much as you hated being wrong, the thing that hurt you the most was that despite your best efforts, Eddie still didn't think you were enough for him. And how could you be when the benchmark was perfect Anne?

You stood no chance. You had been a fool for even trying. And now you were experiencing the burn for your foolishness.

This had happened often enough that you had developed a routine for dealing with heartbreak:

1) crying your heart out and indulging your sadness with whatever helped (mostly comfort food and Friends)

2) enough with indulging, it was time to pick yourself up. No more overeating although you still allowed yourself to cry if you felt like it

3) "I don't need him anyway" phase where you'd make a mental list of how your life was before and after whoever you had broken up with to remind you that they weren't as important as you made them out to be

4)"put yourself out there again" phase where you started going out again with the intention of meeting new people or simply having a good time.

As of this time, you were in phase 3. You noticed that there were some of Eddie's things littering around your apartment. So, you picked up a box and collected them with the intention of returning them to him, effectively closing this chapter. As you did, you made that aforementioned list. This time, with the added reason for your break up, it was a bit easier to remind you why breaking up had been the right decision.

When your hands closed on your favourite hoodie of his though, you couldn't help the pang in your heart as a flood of memories hit you.

You and Eddie doing a Friends marathon every Friday night.

Eddie giving this hoodie when you were sick because he knew how much you liked it.

Eddie taking the hoodie off for a whole other reason almost ripping it...

No.

Shaking your head, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Enough of that. It was over.

It was only a week later that you finally got the time to come around Eddie's apartment. Sure, you could have called him, he could have come himself to pick them up or you could have dropped them at his job but that would have required you to call him. And recalling how that went last time you tried to reach him you decided you'd spare yourself the humiliation of him not ghosting you again.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and knocked on his door.

"Y/n." You were met with a dishevelled Eddie.

He looked like shit but what's new with him. He also looked very surprised to see you at his door and you also couldn't blame it for that. You would have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.

"Hi, Eddie," you hated your treacherous voice that wobbled when you spoke. Clearing your voice, you tried again.

"Sorry to come here unannounced. I've found some of your stuff in my apartment and I thought you'd like to have them back." You explained as you handed him the box, his eyes taking it in for the first time.

"Oh," he paused as he considered your words. Was that disappointment in his voice? "Thank you, y/n. You shouldn't have." He smiled weakly as he took the box from you, your fingers touching briefly.

"It's not a problem, Eddie. I was just passing by anyway." You and Eddie actually lived far from each other. The truth is that there was no reason for you to be in this part of town if it wasn't for him. Eddie knew that but he was kind enough not to point that out.

He just nodded, accepting your words as he held the box close to his chest.

You awkwardly stared at each other for a while, you didn't know what to say but neither of you wanted to end this exchange quite yet. When you felt that you had been standing like a fool in front of your ex's door, you went to leave but Eddie beat you to it.

"So how have you been?" Your first reaction was to scoff at this attempt of small talk. Neither of you was very good at it. And truthfully, it was rich coming from someone who had not made any effort to keep in contact with you even before your breakup.

The scroll of your shoulders was the only answer Eddie got. You weren't in the mood to pretend nor did you want him to know how you were still suffering for him.

"I should ask that to you." You reverted the question to him. He really didn't look well.

"yeah, it's been a rough couple of weeks," he confessed scratching the back of his head.

"That, I don't find it hard to believe," you hummed as your eyes took him in, really took him in since you knocked at his door. You could also see behind him that his apartment was a mess.

"Yeah, don't have to worry about me though. I'm fine."

"Of course." You nodded at his dismissal, remembering harshly the situation you were in."Well, I'm going to go now. Take care." Cold but still polite you turn around, ready to put this -Eddie and this exchange- behind you.

"Y/n, wait!" he called when you were about to climb down the staircase. "Do you want to have a drink or something?" Stay for a while? he meant but didn't dare to say.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Eddie." You called over your shoulder, hand still on the railing.

"Please, I owe you an explanation." You didn't know if it was the desperate note in his voice or the fact that he really looked like shit but you turned around almost convinced.

"Don't you think it's too late for that, Eddie?"

"Maybe it won't change anything between us but you deserve to know." You knew Eddie and you knew how much he cared about transparency and honesty. This may not mean that you were going to get back together but he was right, you deserved an explanation.

"Okay," you agreed as you walked back and then into his apartment. Eddie closed the door behind him and set the box he was still holding down behind the coat hanger.

The sneak peek you had before was definitely right: Eddie's apartment was even messier than usual.

"Why does it look like a tornado hit your home?" You couldnìt help but point out. You knew Eddie wasn't that bothered by tidiness but this too much even by his standards.

"That would be my fault," a new voice answered you.

At first, you didn't register the difference in tone or accent even though you should have had because Eddieìs voice wasnìt that low or raspy. But then a black tendril entered your vision field catching your attention making you turning your head to better inspect it.

What.the.fuck??

"Eddie?" You asked perplexed, eyes fixed on this thing? even if you were addressing Eddie.

"Y/n meet Venom, Venom meet y/n." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"It's so nice to meet you, Eddie's always thinking about you, you know? It's a bit annoying." this time the voice didn't come from a tendril but a face. A fucking alien face with long sharp teeth and wide white eyes.

His words went straight over your head. How the fuck was this true? What were you even seeing? Did this thing come from Eddie's body??

"Fuck, I know I'm heartbroken but now I'm even seeing things?"

"Y/n," Eddie tried to get your attention. You thought you had only thought that but apparently, you had spoken the words. "You're not seeing things, this is part of the explanation I owe you."

"I think it's better if you sit," he said motioning to his couch when you did nothing but stare at Venom. Prompting by Eddie though, you sat down and listened as he spoke.

He told you everything. About Carton Drake about his project with aliens, about Venom and their rather troubled relationship. He even explained how Anne had got involved and how she and Danny had helped him.

It was definitely a lot to take in. But somehow, the thought that he could be lying to you never crossed your mind. The proof was right in front of you, wasn't it? Venom, as he had introduced himself, stood next to Eddie while he spoke. It had never spoken again and you were inwardly thankful for that. That he was giving you space to digest all of this.

"Why didn't you tell me when you came around that day, Eddie?" You asked once you thought you had wrapped your head around it.

"I didn't want you to drag you into this mess," he said with a shrug, head cast down he didn't meet your eyes.

You didn't know how you felt about all of this yet but you nodded anyway. Well, there was nothing you could do anymore, could you? He had already taken care of everything on his own and it wasn't like you had any right to worry about him anymore.

"Thank you for explaining, Eddie. I appreciate your honesty." Did this change anything for you?

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough of if Anne meant more to me than you did. That's not true but I didn't know how to tell you that without telling you what was happening." He nervously fiddled with his fingers without meeting your eyes.

You could see his point now that you knew what happened. Still, it hurt you that he decided to just keep you out of it without a word. He could have at least told you that something was going on, that he didn't or couldn't tell you anything - not right now. You would have understood and given him space. Did he really act like this to keep you safe or was it a way to dismiss you?

"I don't know if this changes things, Eddie. You still turned up to her when a major life-threatening event happened. I think this tells me everything that I need to know." You point out after a while, eyes fixed on the end of your shoes.

"She has been involved from the moment we broke up, Y/n. Hell, this was the reason we broke up in the first place." Eddie's head snapped up at your words. He looked surprised at your words like he couldn't believe that you thought Anne's involvement had been something he had actively sought out.

"That may as well be true, Eddie but still, you didn't tell me even after everything settled down. If I hadn't come around to give you your stuff I still would be none the wiser."

"I was afraid, y/n. How could I come back to you after how much I had hurt you? 'Sorry if I went m.i.a. for a while, I was infected with a parasite who knows permanently with me?' Come on, y/n, I wouldn't take me back either." Now upset, Eddie started to gesticulate frantically to prove his point. His eyes flickered between yours, he leaned toward you, his hands a touch away from yours as if he wanted to touch you but was preventing himself from doing so.

"I'm not saying I would have believed you straight away but still- aliens are way better than self-loathing you know?" You scoff at him- why was he so upset? He wasn't the one who had been beating himself up since that fight for being a worthless piece of shit, was he?

"I know I've never done a good job at showing you but I do care about you. Deeply." Almost as if he couldn't bear to not be touching you any longer, Eddie now reached for your hands. His hold on them tightening as he spoke the words.

You looked at him for a moment. Aside from that fight, your relationship with him had been good. The start wasn't promising, seeing as he was still taken by Anne but Eddie had treated you good. He was attentive and caring in his own way. Looking back to it now, you realized that the period where you started feeling him pulling back from you was the time when this whole alien thing had started.

But now you had settled this, right? So, could this mean...

"If I give you one more chance to show you," you spoke tentatively, enthralled by the twinkle in his eyes, "do you promise me to be fully transparent with me this time around?"

"What? Why would you do that?" He looked shocked but his eyes were hopeful.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it, Eddie?" You challenged him, arching an eyebrow.

"Like hell I am." He scoffed, a smile on his lips. "Nono, of course I do. I swear, y/n. You'll never feel like you don't matter to me again."

"Good." You gave him a small smile at the gobsmacked expression on his face. Oh, Eddie...

He does nothing but stares at you for a while. Like he hadn't seen you in a while and now that you were in front of him, he wanted to commit to his memory every little detail of your face.

"So," you said after a while, "do you plan to stare at me or would you like to get a head start on your promise?" you provoke him with a suggestive tone.

Eddie's mouth fell a little at that, Venom said something to him but you didn't understand him. Shaking his head, Eddie smirks at you.

"I would like nothing more." And with that, Eddie's lips are on yours making up for the lost time.

#eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock one shot #eddie brock imagines #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock angst #eddie brock smut #venom #marvel #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagines #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock ff

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