Moon~

A 23 year old fanfic writer from England!

[lilmoonbunny]

Albert Wesker:

Co-workers to Lovers [AO3]

Your experience changing from Wesker's co-worker to his lover.

Wesker with a uni student s/o

You are Wesker's student S/O.

Never knew I needed you so bad (NSFW), [2], [3] [AO3]

Chris cheats on the reader, Wesker saves the day (and touches you better than Chris ever did). -> NSFW (3/3 Chapters)

Cheater

You cheat on your husband with Albert Wesker.

Chris Redfield:

Dating headcanons + NSFW

Your relationship with Chris. -> Includes NSFW

Chris with teen!daughter (platonic)

You are Chris Redfield's teen daughter.

Sugar Daddy AU

Chris is your sugar daddy. -> NSFW

Misclick, [2], [AO3]

When you accidentally like your ex's reply to your post from last year, you don't think he'll even notice, let alone message you about it. (2/2 Chapters)

Challenges

You challenge your boyfriend to do 100 push-ups over you and he foolishly believed it would be a fair fight. -> NSFW

Harvey:

Stalked!Reader (Headcanons) [A03]

You have a stalker, Harvey helps you.

Shane:

How you started dating Shane

How your relationship with Shane began.

Together

After a drunken hook-up turned confession, Shane avoids you. Unfortunately for him, you aren't willing to let it go that easily.

John Price:

Fake Dating AU

Your Captain is your fake date for your parents.

Philip Graves:

Take me Back

When your ex shows up at your apartment severely injured, you have no choice but to help him.

Multiple Characters:

First kisses

Your first kiss with the Sherlock characters. (Sherlock, John, Mycroft, Lestrade, Moriarty)

Mycroft Holmes:

Denial [AO3]

Mycroft only seeked you out to deduce you (aka, how Mycroft realised he liked you).

First Love [AO3] (On hold/being rewritten)

Y/N and Mycroft’s relationship was something that she would never forget. Throughout her career, every single song that she wrote held memories of their past relationship. So when Sherlock finds out she is back in London, he can’t resist the urge to meddle. Currently being rewritten!

Balls and Questions

You're attending and ball and Mycroft has a question.

Invisible

Once an agent for the U.S, you are now settled into your new, more mundane, life, thanks to Jim Moriarty. Nobody will ever know what you once did, or at least you thought so. When someone from your past appears, the life you built threatens fall apart as your lies begin to unravel.

Yoru:

Enemies-to-lovers

Yoru claims he hates you, so why do you still love him?

Alex Casey:

Just Alex

When a case gone wrong leads to a confession, Casey is unsure how to act around her.

Brynjolf:

Betrayal

When Karliah appears back at the Thieves Guild after Mercer has informed them of Y/N's death, Brynjolf is quick to see red.

Bo Sinclair:

Crush

Bo has a crush, but so does Lester.

Kazuma Kiryu:

Party Girl [AO3]

Kiryu is your overprotective bodyguard and crush. More chapters are posted on AO3!

Goro Majima:

Gloves

You have a thing for Majima's hands and he's noticed. -> NSFW

Hwang In-ho/Young-il/Frontman

Don't

You're searching for In-ho. (Season 1)

Looking after a baby with In-ho

In-ho brings home a random child who you find out to be an eliminated player's new-born. You both take her in as your own (and re-unite with Jun-Ho).

Protect her

When the frontman calls Gi-hun to meet him, he only has one request for him: to protect you. Gi-hun is determined to keep that promise, no matter what.

Hwang Jun-ho:

Just the tip

A little harmless sex between best friends couldn't ruin anything, right? -> NSFW

Jumin Han:

Overworked student s/o

You're an overworked student who works with the RFA.

Roronoa Zoro:

Feelings

Being friends with Zoro was hard, speaking about feelings with him would be even harder, so you won't do it. At least, you didn't plan to until you were exposed.

Sanji:

The Sparring Incident

You challenge Sanji to spar, unaware that it would change your friendship forever (aka Zoro has terrible timing).

Ryland Grace:

Drunken Words (See You Then)

You drunkenly invite your co-worker to join you and your friends drinking, but your ex showing up wasn't a part of the plan.

Tohru Adachi:

Bonds (No Persona!AU)

Tohru Adachi never belonged anywhere, or so he thought. Yet, you - Ryotaro Dojima's 'daughter' - were so kind to him that it was like he finally belonged somewhere.

[lilmoonbunny]

Bonds; Tohru Adachi

Tohru Adachi never belonged anywhere, or so he thought. Yet, you - Ryotaro Dojima's 'daughter' - were so kind to him that it was like he finally belonged somewhere.

Warnings: No Persona!AU, Adachi isn't evil!AU (he's like depressed though), depression mentions, alcohol consumption, reader has an abusive-ex, knife violence/threats, kissing, not proofread (I have likely missed some warnings, so feel free to let me know).

 Adachi wasn’t sure when you had become such an integral part of his life. Despite his reluctance to let you – or anyone, for that matter – close to him, Adachi still found himself caring for you. Whether it came from your insistence on taking care of him or your seemingly genuine kindness, the detective wasn’t entirely sure, but he cared. Too much.

You didn’t care for him, not really. There was no way, at least in Tohru Adachi’s mind, that you cared for him. You were too nice of a person to waste your care on someone like him. He couldn’t – he wouldn’t – believe it.

From the very first day you met him, you had looked out for him. He would recall that day often, an almost smile gracing his lips as he did so.

“Late on your very first day,” Detective Dojima’s harsh voice echoed through Tohru’s ears and he visibly winced. “You have some nerve,”

Adachi’s mouth opened, preparing to apologise when a feminine voice cut him off.

“Cut him some slack, Dojima. Maybe there was traffic, maybe he had an emergency. Either way, it’s only five-minutes! Relax.”

Dojima sighed, not sparing you a glance. Adachi, on the other hand, couldn’t look away. There you stood, looking just like an angel. Your smile was bright, widening as you looked at him, holding out your hand.

“Hi, I’m Y/N!” You grinned. “Ignore detective hardass over here, he gets too caught up in his ways.” You continued, releasing Adachi’s hand to instead whisper into his ear. “He’s old, you know what that means!”

“That’s enough, Y/S/N,” Dojima’s voice was stern but lacking any malice. He didn’t care what you were saying, not really. You were like his second daughter, after all.

“Yes, sir!” Your grin only widened as you saluted Detective Dojima, then turned back to him. “It was nice to meet you…”

“Adachi,” he introduced himself. “Tohru Adachi…”

You had never been afraid of Dojima. No matter how many times he yelled at you both, you took it all with a graceful smile (and sometimes a wink towards Adachi). He envied you in that regard. You never took any insult that Dojima threw at you personally, unlike him.

Adachi, despite not showing it, would often find himself hurt by the elder detective’s harsh words. You would tell him to ignore him and that he didn’t mean it, but it was difficult to ignore when the words resonating within himself. Tohru Adachi had never known how not to be hard on himself and growing up without any friends did little the alleviate that feeling. Sure, he couldn’t be hurt if he wasn’t close to people, but that lack of closeness and familiarity meant that he also couldn’t be comforted. He tried not to dwell on the fact, but sometimes late at night, the overwhelming feeling of loneliness would creep up on him.

“Adachi! What are you daydreaming about? Get back to work!” Dojima’s loud voice pulled Tohru from his thoughts, a quiet sigh leaving his lips as his cheeks flushed a bright red at being called out in the busy office.

“Y-yes, Dojima!” He responded, jumping up from his desk and hitting the wood with his leg as he did so. A quick breath was inhaled through his lips at the main, only to leave his lungs even quicker upon realising that he had knocked over his – very poor quality – coffee. “Oh man,” he groaned quietly, glancing around his desk for anything he could use to wipe up the dark liquid.

“Here,” he heard you before he saw you, “let me help, Adachi.” You smiled at him as you came into his view, leaning over to wipe his desk, neatly placing any unaffected papers to the side.

His cheeks flushed even darker when he heard a few officers either whistling or whispering. There was going to be even more gossip about the pair of you, there was no doubt about it. Rumours had quickly begun to spread around the station not long after his arrival. Adachi felt guilty about it, but you didn’t seem to care, always brushing off his apologies with a smile and a shrug.

“There we go, all sorted!” You smiled again, tossing the damp cloth at one of the men who had been whistling at you both. “Your tie is crooked again,” you muttered as you looked over him. Whether he was supposed to hear that, Adachi wasn’t sure.

Your hands reached up, fingers lightly grasping the red fabric and adjusting it to sit straighter on his creased shirt before moving them along his chest to smooth out said creases. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you did your best to fix his shirt, before giving up and pulling his suit jacket a little tighter.

“Much better!” You nodded, seeming satisfied with your work. And then…you were gone, leaving a dazed and very flushed Adachi behind.

He watched you leave. His eyes followed your frame as you weaved between the desks and gave you co-workers a small smile which was sometimes accompanied by a wave. An angel, they would often refer to you as. You were pure and kind, everything Adachi believed he wasn’t. He didn’t deserve your care, and he was sure that others would agree.

Sometimes during the night, when loneliness crept in accompanied by overwhelming anxiety, Tohru would allow his thoughts to drift to you.

You always treated him with kindness, even when he didn’t feel worthy of it. Your kind words – ones that he believed to be false – still reassured him somewhat. Your sweet voice echoed through his mind, comforting him in the lonely apartment building. You weren’t there physically, but Tohru still held you in his heart, or your words, at least. Maybe you didn’t mean them, but he could allow himself to believe for a little while, just long enough to allow him to drift to sleep as the clock struck midnight and his phone dinged with a text.

Ryotaro Dojima: Dinner at my house after work. Need to tell you something.

Dojima was never one for texting, especially not about matters that he deemed important. It was one of the things Adachi hated about him. Things that could be said over a simple message or phone call had to be made into meetings, be it during work or outside. He guessed it was the age difference between them, but it was still frustrating. And while Adachi couldn’t bring himself to respond – lest he allow him to get too close – he also knew that he couldn’t refuse the offer, and besides, he was hungry…

Even as he trekked towards the Dojima residence, cursing the owner for leaving work early to pick up his daughter rather than giving him a ride, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the idea of spending time with his boss and his boss’ daughter. What he didn’t expect to see upon entering the Dojima’s home alongside Ryotaro was you.

Tohru knew that you and Dojima were close, of course, yet he hadn’t expected you to be here. You were sat on the floor beside the TV, Nanako leaning against you with wide, excited eyes as you read some storybook to her.

A spark of jealousy shot through Adachi at the sight. Why were you here? Just how close are you with Dojima? Close enough to be in his home, obviously, but then again, he was there too. However, you were pretty much cuddled up with Dojima’s daughter, so you must be very close to the pair, right?

“You’re glaring,” Dojima observed, voice barely loud enough for Adachi to hear. “She already thinks that you don’t like her, let’s not make her worry anymore, all right?” Were his final hushed words before he wandered over to you and Nanako, taking the book from your hands before sending you both to wash your hands.

You thought he didn’t like you…? Just how oblivious were you?

For once, you had shocked Tohru Adachi in a different way than usual.

He thought you were an idiot.

You hadn’t seemed to notice him yet, so maybe he could slip away? Come up with some excuse about a family emergency of some sorts. No, that wouldn’t work; not on Dojima. Perhaps a work emergency? Wait, that’s an even worse idea! Come on, Tohru. Think!

“Oh, Adachi,” you smiled at him. “Hello!”

He watched you for a moment, taking in every feature on your face, from your eyes to the freckles that littered your cheeks, then to your lips; he was quick to move his gaze back to your eyes, however.

“You’re very close with Dojima,” the words tumbled from his mouth before he had a chance to stop. “Shit-uh- sorry.” Adachi’s gaze dropped to the ground, an awkward smile crawling onto his lips as his hand gripped his neck.

You didn’t get angry at him, much to his surprise, nor did you tell him to mind his own business. Instead, you gently held his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze that had him flinching.

“No need to apologise,” you smiled once he met your gaze. You glanced over your shoulder for a split-second, Tohru’s eyes following to see Dojima and Nanako placing food on the table. “I moved her alone three years ago. Dojima essentially took me under his wing at the station. He kind of became my father, I suppose.” You explained with a soft smile, eyes remaining on the Dojima family. “I love them like my own family.” Your eyes moved back to his that had been watching you. “And I hope you will learn to as well. Dojima cares for you, even if he doesn’t show it.”

Adachi paused, hands balling into fists in his pockets as he released a breath. You can’t let them close, a voice echoed inside his head. You know what happens when you let people in: they leave.

“What are you two doing? Hurry up!”

You giggled to yourself, giving Tohru’s shoulder one last squeeze before your hand dropped back to your side.

“Come on, let’s wash our hands before he’s too hangry to hold an actual conversation. I want to know what this big news is.” Were your final words to him as you turned to the sink, Adachi soon following.

Yu was… nice.

When Dojima revealed that his nephew would be coming to stay with him for a year, both you and Adachi were confused. Dojima had never mentioned that he had a nephew. You knew of his sister, but you had never heard of a nephew, both of which you told Adachi as he walked you home that same night.

He wasn’t very talkative – something clearly weighing on his mind – but you had been happy to keep the conversation going as you rambled about how Dojima rarely spoke about anything, something which brought the tiniest smile to his face as he walked alongside you.

Adachi remembers how nice you had looked beneath to moonlight, your casual clothes suiting you well. Your style suited you rather well and Adachi cursed himself for wishing the see you in it again. It seemed he had been cursing himself a lot recently, particularly when you were around.

Yu’s arrival into Inaba had been quick, Dojima having admittedly forgotten to tell you both sooner. Since he needed to pick his nephew up from the train station, you and Adachi had been left alone for the day, and with no Dojima to yell at you both… well, you weren’t exactly working.

“Two strawberry shakes, please!” You ordered from the concession stand in the food court of Inaba’s Junes.

The woman behind the stand nodded with a smile, quickly setting to work on your milkshakes while you paid.

“I-I could have paid!” Adachi almost yelled as you handed the worker the money. “It-“ His sentence was cut short as you turned to him with a shake of the head.

“Don’t be silly, Adachi. I dragged you out of work, so I should pay!” You said with a smile, thanking the woman as she handed you two shakes, one which you handed to your work-ditching partner.

“Tohru,” he murmured, taking a sip of the shake.

“Huh…?” Came your response as you watched him with confusion.

“You can call me Tohru… Adachi seems too formal, especially for this setting.”

You paused for a moment, watching him with wide eyes. You didn’t speak for a few moments, simply staring at him until he was about to backtrack, cursing himself for even trying to be friendly. Of course you had found it weird! Why would you want to be frien-

“All right, Tohru,” your voice fell to a whisper as you said his name, a light pink dusting your cheeks as you did so.

Now it was his turn to watch you with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected the way his name sounded from your lips to be so endearing, but God he was glad he had heard it. He could die happy. A beautiful woman, one whom he appreciated and enjoyed the company of, had said his name without it being in disgust.

Oh God, he was screwed…

“Working hard, I see,” Yu’s voice flooded Adachi’s ears as he sipped on his strawberry shake – his regular order since that day – outside of Junes’ elevator. He flinched at the sudden intrusion and turned to see the teen and his friend; Yosuke, Adachi thinks he was called.

“Y-yes! I was just looking around for any suspicious people!” Adachi lied, giving the pair a sheepish smile.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Adachi. We won’t tell,” Yosuke winked. “Besides, the workday is almost over!”

Adachi nodded once he had glanced at his watch.

Oh… He was right. Adachi hadn’t even realised.

“Oh, Tohru!” A familiar voice called out to him, shortly followed by rapid footsteps. “There you are!” You stood behind Yu and Yosuke, greeting them both with a smile and nod. “Is that a strawberry shake?” You asked excitedly, grinning once he nodded.

Before he could realise, you reached out to grab Tohru’s shake, pulling it from his grasp and taking a sip. A satisfied hum sounded as you did so, swallowing the liquid and then handing it back to its, now blushing, owner.

“Thanks, Tohru! Now I feel more energised for lying to Dojima about where you are.” You giggled, blissfully unaware of the knowing look that Yosuke and Yu were giving each other behind you.

You turned to the pair, pointing a finger at them before speaking. “And you two, don’t you be telling either, okay?”

“Yes, Miss. Y/N!” They said in unison.

“Good,” you smiled at them both, reaching out to ruffle their hair. “Now, off you go. I need to have a word with Mr. Adachi here!”

Adachi, who had previously been staring at the mark you had left on his straw, looked at you with confusion. You wanted to talk to him…? Wait, no, you said needed, so it must be about work. Damnit, why did he get his hopes up like that?

“What… is it?” He asked quietly once the two boys left.

You watched as Tohru’s lips wrapped around the straw, gaze lingering for a moment before you shook your head to empty it of the thoughts.

You can’t be imagining kissing Tohru Adachi. He’s your… friend, assuming that he does like you!

“Huh?” You ask, confused for a moment before you recall your previous words. “Oh, I said I needed to talk to you, that’s right.” An awkward laugh left your lips as you rubbed the back of your neck.

Adachi couldn’t recall a single time you had seemed so awkward in the four months that he had known you. In fact, he couldn’t even think of a time you had been anything but happy.

“Are you okay? What is it?” He questioned, handing you his half-empty shake. “Here, have this.”

You thanked him, taking the shake from his hand, fingers brushing his for longer than necessary as you took it. With a quiet sigh, you moved to stand beside the detective, a dejected look on your face as you did so.

“I’m leaving town,” your words were quiet, eyes downcast as you sipped from his drink.

Tohru froze, nervousness flooding his chest.

You were… leaving?

You’re leaving him here in this shitty little town to deal with Dojima for the rest of his career. You’re leaving him alone. He’ll never see you agai-

“I’ll be back on Monday, but I figured I’d tell you before I go. I have some… family things that need taking care of. Hopefully I’ll be back before Monday, but that is when I’m due to be back.” You continued, eyes lifting from the ground to his pale face. “Hey, are you all right? You look really pale all of a sudden. Take this, maybe you need the sugar.” You shoved the milkshake back into his hand and pressed the back of your palm against his forehead. “Hm, you don’t seem to have a fever. You should get some rest, though. I don’t want you to be sick, Tohru!”

You’re not leaving him…? You’re just going away for a few days. He was being stup-

“Y-yeah! You’re right, Y/N!” Adachi forced a chuckle as sweat began to form on his face. “I should go rest! I’ll see you once you’re back!” He didn’t wait for a response, rushing out of Junes while he was still speaking.

Idiot, he cursed himself.

The door to the Dojima residence sounded on Saturday evening while Yu, Nanako, Dojima, and Adachi sat having some sushi. There was silence for a moment and then you walked into the room.

“Oh, you’re back early,” Dojima said, looking towards you with concern written on his features. “Everything okay?”

You wordlessly nodded, avoiding looking towards them.

“Do you mind if I crash here tonight?” Your voice was small, nervousness filling each word. “I don’t want to be alone right now. I’ll be gone by morning, I promise.”

Adachi watched your tense form with confusion. He was so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed Dojima standing until he stood in front of you, hands on your shoulders.

“You know you’re always welcome to stay here anytime you’d like,” his words were hushed, going unheard by Nanako and Yu who were sat further away than Adachi. “You don’t need to be alone. Look at me,”

Adachi heard you take a shaky breath then lift your watery eyes to meet Dojima’s. You muttered a thank you, releasing your travel bag from your grip and letting it fall to the ground with a thud.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,”

You nodded at Dojima’s words, wordlessly following him to some room that Adachi guessed was a spare. He couldn’t stop the concern filling his chest even if he wanted to.

“Is she okay?” Yu asked, clearly having seen the sorrow on your face.

Nanako looked up at him and nodded.

“Y/N doesn’t go away a lot, but she comes back upset when she does. It’ll be okay though, big bro! Y/N’s strong, you don’t need to worry.”

How strange, Adachi thought to himself, eyes remaining on the hallway that you disappeared down. You always seem so happy. What could possibly have upset you this much in less than 24 hours after you left? Whatever it was, Adachi didn’t want you to go through it alone; not like he had.

“You’re worried,” Dojima’s words were blunt as he spoke.

Him and Adachi sat in the car outside of Adachi’s apartment building. Dojima’s hand remained on the wheel, but his grip was tighter as he spoke.

“Much like you, she had some… issues… in the city. She came to Inaba for a fresh start, but you can’t always run from your problems. Y/N will be fine, but she does need some support.” Dojima looked towards Adachi. “Support from people who care for her. Do you know what I’m saying?”

Adachi hesitated then nodded in agreement.

“Good. I can tell you care for her, so thank you.”

Adachi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Dojima thanking him? What a weird way to end the evening.

“You should head inside, it’s getting late.”

Adachi nodded again, placing his hand on the door to let himself out before Dojima’s voice stopped him again.

“Wait,” his deep voice said. “I know it’s a lot to ask, especially since you haven’t known her very long, but could you check on Y/N in the morning? I have some important meeting at work that I can’t miss, otherwise I’d do it myself. If you do, I’ll make the higher-ups give you some time off. You could… go somewhere, or something.”

Now Adachi was even more confused than before. He knew that Dojima cared about you, but this? This was unexpected.

“All right,” he found himself agreeing before he had even considered it.

He watched as Dojima reached beside him to grab something. It took him a moment to find it, but he produced a key, holding it out to Adachi.

“I had this made for you a while back. It’s a key to our home. I mean, you’re basically part of the family now, so I figured it’d be easier for you to just have your own key.” Dojima shrugged as though it was the most casual thing in the world. As though the very notion of accepting him into the family wasn’t tearing through Adachi’s heart.

“Thank you,” Adachi murmured, staring at the key to the Dojima residence that was now his own. “I should get going. Goodnight, Dojima.” Once again, Adachi did not wait for a response before leaving. He didn’t want the elder detective to see his shaking hands, nor the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

You awoke the following day around 11am, shuffling into the kitchen of the Dojima residence with a stifled yawn. Usually, Dojima would be the one to make the coffee, but he was probably at work, so it’d be up to y-

“Good morning,” the bright voice of Adachi made you jump. “I made you some coffee. I heard movement, so I assumed you were getting up.” He chuckled awkwardly, fingers adjusting the hem of his more casual shirt. “It’s way better than the stations coffee, but I’m sure you know that.”

You looked over at the detective, seeing him wearing a pair of dark pants and a white t-shirt. His usual yellow raincoat was beside him on the couch, almost slipping onto the floor as Adachi moved to reach over and grab his own mug.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, before realising your mistake. “Sorry, I mean thank you for the coffee.” You nodded towards him in a grateful gesture, adjusting the strap of your pyjama top as you lifted back up and turned to reach for your drink.

“I-“ Adachi struggled to form a sentence as he took in your attire.

Your shorts left little to the imagination, similar to the vest top you wore that lifted ever so slightly as you stretched.

A dark blush covered his face and neck as he watched you, breath leaving him.

You were beautiful…

Even shortly after waking up, you still looked like the most beautiful woman in the world. God, if only he could wake up to that view every day.

No, Adachi tried to block the image from his thoughts. He didn’t need to imagine waking up beside you in the morning, you peppering his face with kisses to wake him from his slumber before he’d be late for work. He didn’t need that. He didn’t want that.

Nobody stayed; everybody left. That was life. It’s just the way it is.

You turned back to him, drink in hand and a small smile on your face as you took in his shy demeanour. While you didn’t know what he was thinking, it was a cute sight to see regardless.

“Are you staying for the day?” You asked quietly as you took a seat beside him, your thigh brushing his own as you did so. Neither of you moved. “If so, can we watch movies?” You asked with a hopeful glint in your eyes, one which Adachi was reluctant to ruin.

He nodded. “Let’s do it.” He said, pulling his eyes away from the brightening smile on your lips and towards the TV. “What shall we watch?”

You took a sip of your drink, letting out a satisfied sigh at the taste. “You can decide.” You said, taking another sip. “Also, you make really good coffee. I didn’t know you had it in you considering the number of times you spilled yours at the station.” A soft giggle left your lips as you recalled the times you had had to hand him a cloth.

“Hey! I-I’m not that bad,” he mumbled.

You lightly shoved your shoulder against his own in a teasing manner.

“I know. I’m glad you’re a little clumsy, though. You spilling your coffee a lot meant that I had to keep a stock of napkins and things… and it meant I got closer to you.” You admitted, a light blush covering your cheeks as you looked towards the TV, avoiding his wide-eyed gaze that was now focused solely on you. “Now, hurry and decide on a movie!”

The Dojima house was way too quiet considering the time. It was 6pm, yet there was nobody around. Nanako wasn’t sat watching her favourite quiz show and Ryotaro was nowhere to be seen. In fact, had it not been for the blanket tossed over you and a sleeping Tohru, you would have thought that they hadn’t returned home.

You stifled a yawn and rubbed at your eyes, glancing around the room. Noone… Well, besides Adachi whose head lay in your lap, eyes still shut in a peaceful slumber. Despite the burning of your cheeks – and against your better judgement – you reached up to run your hand through his hair. It was soft…

A satisfied hum passed Adachi’s lips, and you froze.

Oh God, he’s awake! He’s going to think I’m so weird, were your thoughts as you watched him adjust himself in your lap, eyes remaining closed as he snuggled further into you. He was… still asleep. An unconscious smile covered his lips as you continue to play with his hair, occasional sighs leaving him.

Tohru was in your lap… He was asleep in your lap, and he was adorable.

You’re screwed.

You had known it for a while, obviously. How could you not recognise the feelings you harboured for your co-worker? Sure, he was clumsy and sometimes a little strange, but he was still your Tohru. Well, not yours, but…

“What time is it?” His sleepy voice broke you from your spiral as he spoke, eyes slowly opening to look up at you.

You hesitated, your hand that was tangled in his hair freezing in place as you stared at him, as though you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t (you felt as though you had).

“Hm? Don’t stop, it’s nice,” he murmured, pushing his head into your hand like a cat would do to its owner. You couldn’t refuse him – you never could – so you simply continued caressing him as you glanced towards the clock.

“It’s just past 6,” you whispered, eyes still staring into his.

Tohru hummed, eyes fluttering shut again for a moment. “When did I fall asleep?”

You smiled at him, applying a little more pressure to his scalp in an amateur massage. You couldn’t exactly remember when he had passed out, other than him slumping against your shoulder during some romance film that neither of you had actually put on. It was left to the Netflix Gods what movie you two were watching after the second, having been way too engaged in conversation to choose.

“I’m not too sure,” you giggled, “but I wasn’t far behind you. It’s been a long few days.”

His eyes opened once more, and he gazed up at you in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

You paused, looking at the cute man in your lap.

You can trust him, right?

“Talk to me… I mean- unless you don’t want to, t-then that’s fine! Maybe you want to talk To Dojima or-“

You cut off his rambling by placing your free hand on his cheek, feeling the heat rise to his cheek rather than see it. His own hand landed atop of yours as you sharply inhaled.

“Tohru, I-“

The front door slamming shut broke you from your trance. You heard Nanako shush Dojima, her quiet voice saying they might still be asleep, daddy, in a scolding tone; you could imagine the look that she was giving him right now.

Adachi and you pulled away from each other, him shooting up from your lap and to the other side of the couch, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Oh, you’re both awake. See, Nanako, you didn’t have to worry,” Dojima said with a chuckle, looking over at Nanako as he dumped the Junes bag on the counter. “You two were asleep when I came back, so I took Nanako for a walk to Junes.”

You turned to Nanako.

“Did you have fun?” You asked her, smiling softly as a bright grin covered her.

“Yeah! Daddy let me buy lots of snacks!” Nanako paused, looking between you and Adachi in concern. “Are you two okay? Your cheeks are red. Are you getting sick?”

Your eyes widened, feeling Dojima’s eyes on you now as your mouth opened and closed in an awful attempt at forming a reply.

Dojima picked up yesterday’s paper – one you knew he had already read - from the table, covering his face as he spoke.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Nanako. Maybe they’re just very warm, it is quite sunny today,”

You could hear the smirk as he spoke.

“Y-yeah!” Adachi spoke, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s suuper warm today, haha!”

You nodded in agreement, placing your palms against your blushing cheeks as you voiced your ‘agreement’, forcing yourself not to glance over at Tohru who was having the same struggle.

“So,” Dojima’s voice was louder than the TV as he spoke. “You and Adachi?”

Your body went rigid at the question. “W-what…?”

He chuckled, placing today’s newspaper on the table in front of you both.

You were currently sat on the floor in front of the couch while Dojima sat behind you, reading the paper. Some movie – a romance, you think – played in the background. Neither of you were paying attention to it, it was just the channel Nanako had been watching before she went to bed. You had been too deep in your thoughts to notice and Dojima just having no interest.

“I came in while you two were asleep. I threw a blanket over you both while he was laying against you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him willingly touch someone, even subconsciously.”

You tilted your head back, pressing your neck into the couch as you looked up at him. Dojima stared down at you with a tiny, almost unnoticeable, smile.

“You should tell him,” he continued, shaking his head in amusement as you snapped your body back to stare at the TV; well, stare anywhere but at him and his wise, all-knowing stare. “He definitely likes you back.”

The TV wasn’t much help, though. On-screen, the rain was pouring as the two protagonists stared at each other, both soaked from the downpour. The girl, wide-eyed and blushing, stared at the suited man, her mouth wide. It was too quiet to hear what was being said, but you saw the man approach her, his hands cupping her cheeks and brushing his thumb across her lip, speaking once, then pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

“All I’m saying is, he’s a good guy, a little useless sometimes, but good. He wouldn’t hurt you,”

You jumped to your feet, back turned to Dojima’s watchful stare as you walked away, heading towards the room you had been residing in anytime you stayed there.

“Goodnight, Dojima,”

Tohru Adachi hadn’t seen you in a while. Well, three days wasn’t exactly a long time, but it felt it when he was so used to seeing you every day.

Dojima had followed up on his promise, somehow convincing the higher-ups to allow him a week off from work, and so Adachi used this to advantage and left Inaba.

He hated Inaba.

It was a small town, and nothing exciting ever happened. It was monotonous. Nothing ever changed. The same thing, every day. Wake up, go to work, go home. Sometimes his day would be ‘spiced up’ and he would have to escort a drunken Dojima home or maybe he would go to buy some food, but it was the same regardless. He hated it.

…Or so he thought.

But as Adachi sat in his hotel room, looking out onto the city skyline, he was conflicted.

Sure, he hated the monotony of his day-to-day life, but being away from Inaba – from you – was doing something to him. Something he didn’t like.

An involuntary groan fell from his lips, head hitting the glass of the window as he slumped forward.

How dare you.

How dare you come into his life – the life he hated – and make him miss being in Inaba. Tohru Adachi, the certified ‘small town hater’, wanted to go back.

“I need a drink,”

You had never told Tohru much about your past, despite feeling close to him (at least, as close as you both were willing to let each other get). You had mentioned little parts about your childhood and hometown here and there, but nothing big… nothing exciting. You never felt pressured to tell him anything. After all, he hardly spoke of his past either. It wouldn’t be fair of him to pressure you for information about your past when he wasn’t willing to talk about his own.

The bar Tohru had wandered into was small, likely owned and ran by some family who lived in the city. It wasn’t expensive but rather had a cozy feel to it. The dim lights ran along the ceiling and it seemed more like a café than a bar, so much so that he double-checked that he had entered the right place.

“What can I get you?” An older man asked, a polite smile on his lips as he tossed a receipt into the trashcan behind him. The paper landed in the bin without him even looking; lots of practice, clearly. “You look stressed.” He continued as Adachi seated himself at the bar.

“Whatever is strongest,” Adachi muttered, leaning against his balled fist and reaching his other hand into his pocket for whatever cash he had shoved in there before leaving.

The bartender nodded, giving him one final smile before turning his back to the detective. A sigh left Adachi’s lips as he watched the man work on whatever alcoholic beverage he was making. He prayed it would be strong enough to take his mind off you for longer than a minute.

This is the type of bar she’d like, Adachi thought to himself as he looked around, then scrunched his eyes shut to try and clear his head. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Years of practice making drinks meant that it didn’t take the old man long to have Adachi’s drink in front of him. With a muttered thanks, he raised the glass to his lips and forced himself to swallow the bitter beverage as quick as possible.

“Woah, son. Take it easy.” The man said. “Whatever is bothering you, it can’t be that bad? What is it? Work? Family? A girl?” The concerned look he was giving Tohru reminded him of you. God, everything reminded him of you.

He wasn’t supposed to let people get close. He didn’t care about them! Everyone just hurt him. So why were you infecting his mind and heart like a sickness that he couldn’t rid himself of?

“A girl, then, I’m assuming? Judging by the look on your face. I know that look; my daughter wore the same one when she came to visit recently. Troubled by her feelings, unwilling to let this guy into her heart. Y/N didn’t want to let anyone close after what happened, but still, I told her to just go for it. Life is life, and it’s too short to spend your time agonising about what could be. I told her to just go for it, thought I was finally getting through to her until he- ah, well never mind that. What I’m saying, son, is that life is too short to not take risks. Sure, maybe this girl you’re thinking about might hurt you - maybe she’ll even say no -  but do you really want to spend the rest of your life wondering if it could have worked?”

Adachi watched the man as he rambled, and had he been the tiniest bit more sober – downing that drink was a mistake, his head was spinning – Adachi would have realised that this man had said your name. In fact, had he not been agonising over you, he would have noticed that this bar was the one you had worked at during your childhood; your family’s bar.

“But what do I know? I’m just an old man who has lived a long time,” he concluded, shooting Adachi a wink. “Take care, kid.” Were his final words to Tohru as he turned to the next customer.

What could be, the strangers words echoed throughout Adachi’s brain as he thought about you, unpained, this time.

What could be?

You were always nice to him; from the moment you met at the station on his first day. You had told Dojima off for being mean to him countless times, and always defended him to others, even if he wasn’t there to hear you do so.

“She’s so defensive over you. Hell, it’s annoying,” a senior officer had told him one time.

You clearly cared for him, even if struggled to understand why… and he cared for you too. Even when he didn’t want anyone close to him, Tohru Adachi cared for you.

With a (somewhat) clearer mind, he had a plan to… plan. He tossed some money on the counter – leaving a large tip for the stranger with good advice – and left the bar. Tomorrow, he would hop on a train back to Inaba, and he would tell you.

He was going to tell you how he feels.

“Dad says to tell you that you should tell Adachi,” Nanako spoke without looking up from her homework.

You look up from your phone and over to the girl who was nibbling on the tip of her pencil while considering the math question she was trying to complete. You sighed to yourself, moving to sit beside her, instead changing the topic from your love life – not that Nanako knew that was what her father was referring to – to her math homework, ignoring both your thoughts and the buzzing of your phone as you did so.

It was late evening when Adachi exited Inaba’s train station.

His planning hadn’t gone too well, but he had pondered over what he was going to say to you; something along the lines of how you were too sweet to him and you deserved better, but he loved liked you too much. In fact, he had been so absorbed in trying to plan his speech that he hadn’t felt his phones constant vibrating. He hadn’t noticed the numerous missed calls from Dojima until he pulled out his phone to text you.

7 missed calls: Ryotaro Dojima

2 new voicemails: Ryotaro Dojima

15 new messages: Ryotaro Dojima

2 new calls: Yu Narukami

4 new messages: Yu Narukami

A confused look formed on his face, eyebrows furrowing together as he scrolled through the notifications. There was nothing from you, so it can’t be that important, right? Yeah! If it was important, you would have called him too; he can ignore them for now.

Clearing the notifications, Adachi scrolled to your contact, tapping on your name and raising the device to his ear.

Straight to voicemail.

“Weird,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe her phone is dead? Ugh, that means I have to call Dojima back…”

Ring…

Ri-

“Adachi, finally!” Dojima’s voice sounded more stressed than usual.

“Hey, Dojima. I’m not missing wo-“

“Have you heard from Y/N?” Dojima cut off Adachi’s almost question.

“Not yet. I just got back to Inaba. Why? Is everyth-“

A quiet curse was the last thing Adachi heard from his friend before he hung up, leaving Adachi stood in the train station. Confused and alone.

“Who is he?” An all too familiar voice asked.

You couldn’t see its owner clearly – it was particularly foggy in Inaba today – but you didn’t need to see him to know the angered look that he wore.

You had been sat on the steps of the riverbank when your ex-boyfriend had approached. Had you known that he was in town, you would never have come here; at least, not alone. Alas, you did not know. Ignoring his messages hadn’t worked in your favour this time.

“Who is who?”

You knew who he was referring to, but you weren’t willing to give out Adachi’s name so easily. You hadn’t even named him to your father during your trip, knowing that your mother would somehow find out and then he would find out.

“The guy you’re apparently so smitten over,”

You ex was clearer now, stood directly in front of you. If you wanted to, you could reach out and slap him, but there wasn’t much point; you knew that. His lips were curled into a snarl and flames of rage roared in his eyes as he glared at you.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” your shoulders shrugged as you feigned innocence. “If that’s all you have to ask, I’ll be going.” Your voice was steady, shaking hands hidden behind your back as you lifted yourself to your feet, turning to walk away.

That was the plan, anyway.

But a loud gasp forced its way from your lungs as the man you had once loved so dearly grabbed at your hair, yanking you from the steps and into his chest. You could feel his heart racing beneath his shirt, a thick yet racing anger-fuelled thump. Yours wasn’t fairing much better, except it was fear.

You felt something cold against your throat – a knife, if you had to guess – and you tensed up. The attacker’s warm breath hit your ears as he muttered into it.

“Don’t scream,” his words were a warning, coupled by the metal pressing further into your skin. Yeah, definitely a knife. “Just tell me who he is. I can deal with it.”

Your eyes screwed shut, breaths turning into pants which worsened as he pressed the object further against your neck. You wouldn’t give in. You wouldn’t let him hurt Tohru. You shook your head.

“Tell me!”

The crunch of gravel sounded through the fog as someone wandered by. You held your breath, willing the person to just keep walking. You didn’t want any innocent by-standers caught up in your mess. You didn’t even want the people you had grown so close to to become involved. This was your mess to handle. Only Dojima knew, and even then, it wasn’t everything.

A recognisable sigh followed the crunching of gravel and your eyes widened.

Oh dear. Why now?

“Why does Dojima have to deal with everything by himself? Doesn’t he know we’re here to help.” Another sigh. “Well, I guess all I can do is wait for him to call me back.” The crunching of gravel sounded further away now, your head spinning from the lack of oxygen as you released your breath, coughing somewhat.

The sound of footsteps was gone now, instead replaced by raindrops that had begun to fall. It had been forecasted to rain at some point, but you were planning to be home by the time it begun. Not everything works out, you suppose.

“Now, tell me, or I will slit your throat, I swear to you,” the blade pressed further into you again, a stinging sensation spreading across your neck as you felt the wetness begin to leave your skin.

You didn’t speak. What were you supposed to say? You couldn’t tell him that you had fallen in love with Tohru Adachi. Not only would your ex kill him, but he’d absolutely  go after the others too. Nanako, Dojima, Yu… Everyone would get hurt because of you. You had endangered them by foolishly believe that you could outrun your past. You were so fucked. Everyone was so fucked, and it was all your fault.

“What’s going on here?” Adachi looked at the man behind you, then to the metal at your throat, and then to you. “Is this some weird kink or something? I-I don’t think you’re legally allowed to do that in public, you know. You of all people should know that, Y/N…” He pouted.

Your ex looked between you and Adachi, a smirk forming on his lips as a plan popped into his mind.

“You know her.” You ex didn’t wait for a reply from Adachi before pointing the knife towards him instead of at your throat. “Then tell me who this guy that she’s so obsessed with is! Tell me or I will kill you both right here. I don’t care if I get caught!”

Adachi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you. The sight of crimson caught his eye and you watched his face fall, a neutral expression – along with some well masked anger – taking over his features.

“Oh, you mean… Dojima? They’re together a lot and always talk about each other.” Adachi rubbed the back of his neck as though he was feeling awkward, but you knew better. You had known Adachi long enough now to know how he was feeling. “He should be at the station right now. He always works late!”  He chuckled.

You knew that wasn’t true. It was nearing 9pm and you had seen Dojima come home two hours earlier. Surely Adachi knew that too. Dojima worked late, sure, but he hadn’t been recently. He had been home more often since Yu had told him to spend time with Nanako…

“It’s not far. I’m sure you could make it there quick enough on foot… But, hey, what do I know?” Adachi continued.

He was still lying… There was no way your ex could make it to the station on foot, especially not quickly. You all drove there daily. What was he thinking?

Adachi caught your confused look and gave you a lopsided smile.

“See, Y/N. This guy knows how to tell me things. Hell, maybe you’d be good with him; he could teach you a thing or two.” There was still anger in his tone, but he seemed more determined. The knife dropped back to the side of your ex as she shoved you away from him, your body failing to steady itself and sending you crashing to the ground.

Adachi shuffled slightly, as though he was about to move towards you but caught himself just in time. Instead, he looked over at the angry man.

“Just head down there,” Adachi said casually, pointing the wrong way and giving false directions. “Should take you straight to him.”

You saw Adachi’s body jolt forward slightly as your ex hit him on the back as he passed, shooting you one last smirk as he stuffed the knife back into his pocket.

The moment he was out of sight, Adachi rushed towards you, kneeling down to help you up. You saw the raindrops drip from his soaked hair and race down his face as he looked at you with concern. The question are you all right almost left him, but he knew better than to ask that. Instead, his sweat-damp palms gently held your cheeks, guiding your face around to assess you for any injuries. His eyes scanned your face, thumb brushing stray rain from your face as he did so.

A wince left you as he wiped at the thin line of blood along your throat and you saw the frown that pulled at his lips.

“Does it hurt bad?” He asked quietly, barely audible over the thunder that sounded.

You shook your head. “I’m fine, Tohru. Thank you.”

His eyes widened slightly then closed.

“You’re a dumbass, you know that, right? Everyone is worried sick about you. Dojima is driving around looking for you, Yu and his friends are walking around in the rain. Even Nanako is helping.” His words were scolding, maybe even angry. His face, however, told a different story. The frown that painted his lips and the concern that his gaze held. “Man, I come back early to tell you I love you and you don’t even answer my call. It’s like the world ha-“

The rest of Adachi’s words went unheard from you as you looked at him, shocked.

There he was, knelt in front of you, despite being absolutely soaked and his pants becoming dirty. One of his hands held your cheek so delicately, as though you were a porcelain doll that would break if he applied any pressure, and the other pressed lightly against your neck. You hoped it was light enough that he couldn’t feel the racing of your pulse.

Tohru’s lips were moving but you didn’t hear anything that he was saying. His confession was all you could hear, even moments after it had slipped from his lips.

“You love me…?”

Your words stopped his rambling, his own eyes widening as he registered what he had said. His mouth opened quickly, as though he was preparing to deny his words, but he decided against it. His mouth shut, lips forming a straight line as he nodded, gaze darting to the ground in shame.

“I…”

You wanted to say it back, you really did, but it wouldn’t leave your mouth. You couldn’t even force the words to form on your tongue as he looked at you with a hopeful stare. Your own eyes looked down, avoiding his stare as you balled your hands into fists on the ground.

“We should go back,” you muttered, desperately trying to forget the breath of air that left Adachi’s lungs. “You’re right, everyone will be worried.”

You felt Adachi’s shocked eyes on you as you lifted yourself to stand, your own eyes looking everywhere but him. You couldn’t bare to see the dejected look on his face, hearing his shocked exhaled was painful enough.

“I-erm- all right, Y/N,”

The last time you had felt this much guilt was probably when you were a kid and accidentally broke your fathers’ favourite ornament.

You knew that you loved Tohru, but you couldn’t tell him that. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was fear; who knows. Replaying his rambled confession in your head did nothing to ease the guilt that you felt, especially when you hadn’t seen him since he helped you back to Dojima’s house then instantly left, saying something about helping question the guy after his arrest. God, why didn’t you just say it back?

“Hey,” Dojima’s head peaked around your open door. He hid his worry well, but you could still see it. Dojima wasn’t a detective for no reason; he knew that something had happened between you and Adachi, but he didn’t know what. He’d never tell either of you but having you both moping around rather than talking about it was driving him insane. “I’m going to pick Nanako up from school if you want to come? I’m sure she’d like it if you came.”

With a dejected sigh, you agreed – albeit reluctantly – and followed him out of the door.

Adachi swore to himself that if he was ever given any sort of power, he would use it to make Dojima suffer. Why couldn’t he just mind his own business? Why did he put him in this situation?

Adachi watched as Yu, Nanako, and Dojima held hands on their walk back from school. Nanako had a happy smile on her face as she giggled at something Yu had said, even Dojima was chuckling. Adachi wasn’t sure what they were joking about. No, he was too focused on you walking silently beside him.

Tohru Adachi knew that he didn’t belong anywhere, but watching the trio in front of him holding hands solidified that. He wanted to go back to the city. He had, once again, resided himself to the fact that he would live out the rest of his life alone. No friends, no family, no… girlfriend.

Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal to others but having Nanako release his hand upon seeing Yu struck him with a certain pain in his chest. He knew he was easily replaceable, but he genuinely believed that the Dojima family had warmed up to him enough to welcome them in. He thought that you liked him enough too… What a fool he was.

He hated himself, he truly did. Why was it so easy for Yu to come to Inaba and settle in? He made friends so easily and everyone loved him. What was it about Yu that made him so much easier to like? Even in school, Adachi never had genuine friendships like Yu had made here in Inaba.

Why was he jealous of a teenager…?

A sudden warmth enveloped his hand, forcing him from his self-deprecating thoughts. Adachi looked over at you. Your cheeks were bright red and you kept your eyes forward, but your hand… He hesitated for a moment, then relaxed, allowing his hand to wrap around yours. A blush – one that rivalled your own – bloomed on his cheeks as he cleared his throat louder than he had meant to.

“Adachi? What is it?” Dojima asked as he looked towards you both.

“They’re holding hands!” Nanako grinned as she spotted yours and Adachi’s intertwined hands. “Do you see that, big bro? Dad was right!”

“You’re right, Nanako. They are holding hands.” Yu smiled at you and Adachi then at Nanako. “Shall we go to Junes with your dad? I think Yosuke is working today, so maybe we can get him or Teddie to give us a drink?”

Nanako cheered in agreement and happily skipped off with Dojima and Yu, leaving you and Tohru alone.

“I-“ You paused for a moment, looking around before your eyes landed on yours and Tohru’s hands. Somehow, it gave you the strength to admit the truth that you had been hiding for so long. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore your confession, I just… I didn’t expect it. I was scared and I didn’t know what to say.” You swallowed, voice growing quieter as you continued speaking. “But I do love you, Tohru, and if you still love me too then…”

Adachi’s gaze snapped to your blushing cheeks and then to your lips as you nervously nibbled and finally landed on your eyes. The nervousness was obvious, but it was… endearing. You were seriously telling him you love him? And you were so nervous about it, too. As if he could ever reject you. God, you really are a dumbass.

He squeezed your hand, giving you a grin. “Of course I do. I mean, I thought you hated me or something, but- hmph!” Adachi stumbled forward as you pulled him down by his tie.

He could feel your breath against his lips as he was face-to-face with you. Your spare hand cupped his cheek, thumb running across the skin as your looked at him adoringly. His own free hand landed on your waist, the neat fabric of your shirt contrasting his creased one.

“I could never hate you, Tohru…” You whispered, smiling up at him.

His focus was on your lips as they moved, so intently focused that he barely registered what you had said.

“Is that so…?” He murmured once his brain had caught up, gaze still fixated on your lips.

He heard you hum, watching your tongue glide along you lower lip. He could kiss you. He probably should kiss you… but what if he was reading it all wrong?! What if he messed this up and then you decided you do hate him. What if he had to leave Inaba and never got to see you aga-

The inner turmoil and hesitance was obvious on his face and you giggled, muttering a quiet idiot as you finally pressed your lips against his own.

From behind a bridge pillar, the Dojima family cheered quietly.

“Finally,” the eldest man muttered to himself, looking over at you and Adachi who seemed to be in a world of your own as your lips met.

“Yeah, they did take a while to admit it, didn’t they, Uncle?”

Dojima scoffed in agreement, shaking his head as he looked at Nanako who was watching them with wonder in her eyes.

“Wow… Are they going to get married now?” She asked. Nanako looked up at Yu with a smile. “When I’m older, I’m going to marry you, big bro, just like Y/N is going to marry Adachi!”

Dojima simply glared at his nephew.

[lilmoonbunny]

Invisible; Mycroft Holmes

Once an agent for the US, you are now settled into your new, more mundane, life, thanks to Jim Moriarty.

Nobody will ever know what you once did, or at least you thought so.

When someone from your past appears, the life you built threatens fall apart as your lies begin to unravel.

Warnings: Way too many Metal Gear Solid references, Y/N is also referred to as Hound, Rose, and Meryl (code name), violence, mention of murder of sibling, communication issues (it gets resolved), attempted murder, alcohol mentions, poorly written politics, not proofread.

London was… interesting.

Initially, you had hated the city and your life here. It was too… normal. Too mundane. Your life for the last ten years – give or take – had been all assignments, constant violence, and unnecessary death. Going from that to daily coffees from the coffee shop outside of your workplace with idle chatter with your co-workers was… well, let’s just say that it took some adjusting. Still, you persevered; this was what you wanted, after all. You hadn’t paid such a large amount of money to fake your death just on a whim. No, you needed a fresh start. You needed stability and a life where you weren’t constantly sneaking around a battlefield.

You had expected your new life to remain mundane. The coffee shop visits brought a certain peace with them, but that peace didn’t scratch the itch that you needed. You were used to drama. Used to crime and secrets. It was something that you craved, after living that way for so long. That craving was why you were so quick to accept to help Sherlock Holmes and his partner in (solving) crime. And you were glad that you had done so, considering that was how you met your current partner.

Mycroft Holmes was an interesting man. A man full of secrets but also a lot of power. However, he wasn’t like the usual government workers that you were used to. Mycroft Holmes was different. He wasn’t power hungry, didn’t use unnecessary violence to get what he wanted, and he cared, even if he didn’t show it.

He cared about his family. he cared about the country. His brother’s friends were somewhere on the list of people he cared about – not that he would ever admit that – as were his co-workers. Mycroft Holmes cared about those around him. He cared about you.

Perhaps that was why you fell for him.

After dealing with corrupt government agencies for so long and witnessing their destruction first hand, Mr. Holmes was like a breath of fresh air. Despite his uncaring and cold façade, you could read him like a book. It was something that he hated about you at first, or maybe it was because that fact was what drew him to you. That was all in the past now, though. Mycroft Holmes – your partner of one year – had moved on from pushing you away and instead didn’t like you being far from him.

“Ah, Mr. Holmes!” Another suited man called Mycroft over with a wave of his hand. “Long time no see, and who is this lovely little thing?”

You took a deep breath; the unnamed man’s ridiculously expensive – and quite frankly awful – aftershave overwhelming your senses as you did so. You forced a smile, holding out your hand in greeting.

“I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you,”

The man introduced himself as Gerald, someone in a high-up government position somewhere you hadn’t cared enough to remember, before turning to Mycroft.

You knew that Mycroft hated small talk. Had this not been a mandatory event for people in his line of work, he wouldn’t have even bothered to come. He was debating not showing up and feigning illness, but you had forced him to go with the promise of tagging along if it was what he needed.

The conversation was boring by your standards – talks about economic struggles and the impact of some war that was going on – so you instead favoured to glance around the room, effectively tuning out the conversation.

It was a grand ballroom, as to be expected for a government facility. The walls were immaculately painted with a cream colour, clearly repainted often, and the marble-looking flooring likely cost more than your whole apartment building. The food-filled tables were covered with cloth, as were the drink tables. It oozed richness and power, everything that you had wanted to avoid.

The people were no better, of course. Power-hungry men in personally tailored suits with fake smiles and manipulative words. Well, most of them. Someone was out of place here… and you recognised him immediately.

“Are you all right?” Mycroft’s hushed voice asked you. The man had clearly left, likely without a goodbye to yourself. “You’re tense. Your body is rigid and-“

You giggled, running your hand across his suit jacket to calm yourself. “You don’t need to deduce me, Mycroft. I’m fine. I just don’t do well in social settings, that’s all.”

Mycroft nodded. He knew you were lying, of course, but this wasn’t the time nor place to discuss such a matter. He only had to be here for another hour before he was free to leave, and you could both go to that 24-hour bookshop café that you loved so much.

By the third time, it was starting to get annoying.

The man who had noticed previously had not taken his eyes off you for even a second. He walked around, holding conversation, but you knew he was watching you. You knew him too well, even after the time apart. Your partner was good at tracking his targets, even while performing other tasks. He was sly, an expert at undercover missions. He was a fox.

Glancing up at Mycroft revealed that your weird behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was looking down at you with a concerned gaze and a raised eyebrow. Even the forced smile you gave him – one that most fell for – did nothing to throw him off. You were saved, however, by a female co-worker approaching you both. Using the sudden distraction to your advantaged, you greeted the familiar woman with a smile and nod, before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

It was obvious that you needed air, Mycroft knew that much. His suspicions were only confirmed when you headed to the door rather than the ladies. Lady Smallwood’s words went unheard by Mycroft as his eyes followed your tense frame as you exited the building, followed by a man he did not recognise.

“And I feel-“ the woman’s words fell of deaf ears as Mycroft Holmes wordlessly left the conversation to follow you outside, grabbing his umbrella on the way out… just in case.

It didn’t take long for Mycroft to find you, or rather, find the man who had followed you. He saw him disappear down an alleyway beside the building and then heard your voice asking why are you here?

So, you know this man, Mycroft was quick to deduce as he stood near the alley, eavesdropping.

“Long time no see, Hound,” the unnamed man’s voice was steady, as though he had rehearsed this conversation.

“Don’t call me that. That isn’t me, not anymore.” Came your cold reply. “Hound died alongside me. Killed in action. I am not Hound.”

“Yes, you are.” Mycroft could hear the man’s dress shoes click against the gravel as he wandered further into the alleyway.

“No, I’m not. I left the life behind years ago. You can be Fox, all you want, but I am not Hound.”

“We are partners, Hound, whether you like it or not. We swore that to each other when we started working together. Every assignment, every ‘trip’, everything. We are Fox and Hound, we swore it. So, imagine my surprise when I hear that my partner was killed on a simple in-and-out assignment. That wasn’t your style. You are good at your job; you wouldn’t die in something as easy at that.”

Mycroft heard you take a deep breath, gravel crunching beneath your shoes as you spun to face this Fox.

“We are not Fox and Hound. Not anymore. You can be Fox if you want, but I am not Hound. I didn’t want that for myself, I never did. I was freshly eighteen when they recruited me. I had no idea what I was getting into.” You snapped. “I like my life now. That is my future. I’m not Hound. I’m Y/N. Just Y/N.”

Fox paused for a moment, and Mycroft could only assume he was watching you. Studying you.

“Your life is fake. Everything about you is fake. Your name, your past work, your relations. And let me guess, your relationship with that man, is that fake too? All for your new life? For your future?”

Mycroft’s eyebrows furrowed. Fox, whoever he was, was clearly referring to him.

“Leave him out of this, I’m serious.” Your voice was stone cold and Mycroft heard your footsteps – ones he would recognise anywhere – approaching. “Don’t talk to me. You don’t know me, not anymore.” You said as you continued walking,

“What would Emma think?” Your footsteps stopped abruptly at the name. “You swore to avenge her. I know you, Hound. I know who you are.”

A shaky inhale was your response before Fox continued to speak.

“You’re not this Y/N person. You’re Hound. Meryl, if you want a real name. The U.S agent who saved the world.”

You hesitated for a moment, before you gave one final response.

“No, I’m not,”

Mycroft heard your footsteps begin once more and hurried back inside.

You didn’t know that Mycroft had overheard your argument. Mycroft was good at hiding things from you when he wanted to, even if that wasn’t often. But it was necessary. Not only was a government party not the place for him to question you, but he also had a plan. And as he sat in front of his laptop that night, Mycroft Holmes, for the first time in a while, hesitated.

He didn’t know what he would find when he searched the database. Was he going to find that you were some war criminal or something? He wasn’t sure. Mycroft Holmes was never one to leave questions unanswered, though, so he searched, opening the first file that he saw.

TOP SECRET

U.S Government Agency: Snake:

Agent Name: Meryl Silverburgh

Code Name: Hound

Assignments: 112 (Classified)

Details: Often works with partner, Fox. Chemistry undeniable. Efficient workers. Top workers, deploy when necessary.

The document went on, spanning hundreds of pages, but Mycroft saw one thing that caught his attention as he recalled your words about how Hound had died alongside you.

Update, 2019: Hound did not return from mission. Classed as K.I.A, despite no body being found. High risk to retrieve. No need to retrieve.

So, it was true.

You – the girl he knew as Y/N – were a U.S secret agent, Meryl, who faked her death.

The knock on the door to your apartment was one you recognised with ease, and one which, despite your earlier issues, brought a smile to your face. You love Mycroft, even if the two of you were never entirely open and honest about your affections for each other.

“Mycroft, hi,” you smiled up at him, one which dropped upon seeing the solemn look on his face. “Are you… okay?”

Mycroft’s eyes remained on the wall beside your head, never meeting your eyes.

“Can I come in?” He asked. “I need to talk to you.”

You paused, hand tightly gripping the wood of the door. “Uh, sure. Come in.”

Mycroft nods, gaze still avoiding yours as you let him into your apartment. Something that once felt natural now felt strained, as though Mycroft Holmes was a million miles away from you, despite it being merely an arm’s reach,

“Do you want a drink?” You asked awkwardly, gesturing towards the kettle.

Mycroft didn’t answer your question, instead favouring to ask his own. “That man, Fox. Was what he said true? Was what I read true?” For the first time since he arrived, Mycroft’s eyes met yours, just in time to see them widen. “Was everything a lie? Are you really a government agent?” His voice was strained, the hesitance evident in his eyes.

You froze, your hand that was previously raised to point at the kettle fell to your side, shaking. “Mycroft…” You pause, balling your hands into fists as you shoved them in your pockets. He’d realise you were shaking if you didn’t. “I’m sorry.” You couldn’t explain, you know that. Even if you tried, what could you say? He had access to your files, everything – at least most of your life – was on them. There wasn’t much you could say that he wouldn’t already know. “I’m so sorry.”

Mycroft nodded, wordlessly turning to exit your apartment, perhaps for the last time. You knew there was no point stopping him or even trying to. What you did was wrong, you know that. In fact, you weren’t even sure if you would forgive yourself.

The door remained closed, despite the long time you spent staring at it. Mycroft wasn’t going to return, that much was obvious, and you couldn’t blame him. Rather than chasing after him, you simply reached for your phone, pulling out the piece of paper that you had found in your pocket once you returned and dialling the digits that were scrawled on it.

“Fine, you win.” You spoke the moment you heard someone answer. You knew who it was anyway. “What’s the mission?”

Mycroft Holmes prided himself on his intelligence. He could read people well and knew when they were being untruthful… or so he thought. You… God how could deceive him so well? He knew that love was a dangerous disadvantage – he recalled telling Sherlock that numerous times – but he never believed that he would fall victim to it.

Your entire relationship was fake. You didn’t love him. You were simply using him to secure your future, at least, that was what he got from Fox’s words. That was what he believed to be truth, one which was only solidified by your refusal to explain.

Mycroft heard the crack rather than felt it. The pen in his hand that he was using to try and fill in some paperwork broke from the strength of his grip, ink rushing down his palm as he cursed quietly.

Never had he expected himself to be one overwhelmed by emotions. He had never expected to be betrayed, least of all by you. Who were you? And there was one question that was unanswered, despite him reading through every document on the system: who was Emma?

Government parties were boring. They always had been, yet Mycroft forced himself to attend. Well, more like his mother forced him to get out of the house once she realised the state he was in during her visit. Besides, she had always wanted to attend such a lavish party, so taking her as his plus-one helped him cease her begging. It felt wrong… not having you as his plus-one.     

“Mr. Holmes, we meet again!” The man from the previous party – before everything went to shit, for lack of a better word – greeted him. “Is Y/N not here today?”

Mycroft felt his body tense at the mention of your name, and he silently shook his head, grateful that his mother guided the conversation by introducing herself. Usually, Mycroft hated how much she could talk, but right now, it was the only thing keeping him sane. The waiting was awful.

Mycroft paid no attention to the conversation happening in front of him as he looked around the room, eyes focusing on the spot where you had stood with him a week prior before exiting. His gaze then drifted to the door, seeing a woman with red hair enter the building, alongside a man with grey hair.

Mycroft quietly scoffed to – and at - himself as he looked at the woman; she looked like you. Wait. No, she was you. Despite the red hair and green eyes, this woman was you. There was no doubt about it. The way she carried herself, the – albeit fake – smile, and her posture; this was you… and the man was Fox.

Before he could begin to wonder what you were doing here, Mycroft’s focus was broken by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Now, he was never one to have his phone on anything but silent, but he was waiting… Waiting for a very important message.

2 New Messages: Sherlock

If you smiled at one more person, you thought you might scream.

Undercover work was something you thought that you had left behind long ago, but it was like you never left. Your fake identity fell from your lips with ease and the way you were able to extract information from the partygoers hadn’t changed much. This had been your job for so many years and it was hard not to slip back into it.

Despite your focus on the task at hand, it was hard not to notice Mycroft. An unfamiliar pain filled you as you watched him rapidly type of his phone. It was abnormal for him to even use the thing unless he had to, but he looked relieved at whoever was messaging him. It hurt… How could he move on so quickly?

“Focus, Hound,” the man beside you muttered into your ear, as he lightly grasped your waist. “We have a job to do.”

You spared one final look at Mycroft before turning your attention to your fake boyfriend for the night, leaning into his touch with great effort.

“Don’t call me that,”

Fox chuckled, pulling away to grab a glass from the tray in front of him, handing one to you before picking up his own. To any onlookers, you simply looked like a very powerful couple. Fox – or Alan as you were currently calling him – wore a well-fitted black suit while you – Rose as of right now – wore a very elegant silver dress that was, quite frankly, the last thing you wanted to wear right now.

‘Alan’ raised the champagne glass to you, encouraging you to do the same.

“To us,” he smiled. “And to our engagement.” You clinked your glass against his in a toast, the ring on your finger something that you had forgotten about.

“To us,” you forced yourself to sound happy, leaning into his chest.

Your ‘toast’ caught the attention of a pair of onlookers, a couple, by no doubt. And as they approached, you spared one final glance at Mycroft who was already looking at you.

“They are cute, aren’t they?” Mrs Holmes’ voice was slightly slurred from the excessive amount of champagne she was drinking. “Reminds me of when your father and I were younger. Say, Mycroft, when are you going to bring Y/N over again? I do miss her.”

Mycroft turned with a sigh. “What are you talking about, Mother?”

Mrs Holmes pointed towards four people, all with happy smiles on their faces as they conversed. An older couple – ones he recognised but did not know the names of – and a red-head and grey-haired couple; you and Fox. The arm that he had wrapped around your waist sparked a weird feeling inside Mycroft chest, one that he wasn’t willing to name. The feeling only worsened when he saw you look up at Fox with a smile while adjusting his messy hair.

While he wasn’t willing to name it, Sherlock would have been more than happy to call his brother out on his jealousy. In fact, he would have teased him relentlessly once he saw Mycroft striding towards you, abandoning their mother who was left to engage in mindless – and boring - chatter with Mycroft’s assistant. Alas, Sherlock was not here, so Mycroft didn’t have to worry about the endless teasing.

“Yes, we have been together for quite a while now,” Mycroft heard Fox’s confident voice as he approached. “About seven years now, I believe.”

You took a sip from your glass before replying. “Yes, something like! We relocated just outside of London six months ago. We felt it would be a good place to settle down once we were engaged.”

Six months ago, Mycroft thought to himself. Ironic considering six months ago you were visiting his parents’ home with him.

“It is a wonderful place to live!” The older woman spoke. “We live in London due to the nature of David’s work, but I do enjoy living here. There’s never a dull moment.”

The woman’s husband, David, glanced over his shoulder to spot Mycroft.

“Speaking of work, this is Mycroft Holmes. A co-worker of sorts.” He introduced, stepping aside to allow Mycroft to enter to conversation. “Mycroft this is Alan and Rose! They recently relocated to London following their engagement.”

You took a deep breath before glancing up at Mycroft, willing yourself to maintain your composure, especially with all eyes currently on you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes,” your voice was steady, but your heartrate was anything but as you held out your hand for him to shake. If he was confused, Mycroft did not show it as he took your hand in his own and gave it a formal shake. “My fiancée and I are currently in search of the prime minister. Have you seen him? Alan has something very important he needs to discuss.”

Your words were the first giveaway that something was wrong. Mycroft knew that your backstory was fake – he knew that you knew that too – but asking him for the PM’s location? Something was dreadfully wrong. Your eye contact with Mycroft remained, even as ‘Alan’ spoke.

“Yes, it is terribly important, Mr. Holmes. Cannot wait, sadly! Any ideas?”

Mycroft forced his eyes from you, instead landing on Alan.

“I believe he is upstairs, accompanied by an Iranian minister,”

You nodded in appreciation, shooting a look to Fox which did not go unnoticed by Mycroft before excusing yourselves from the conversation.

The remaining trio watched as Rose and Alan quickly wandered upstairs before returning to their own conversations.

“Lovely couple, aren’t they, Mr. Holmes?”

It was quiet. Way too quiet considering the PM was supposed to be up here conversing with a minister. The prime minister was never known to be quiet, especially not when talking to people from foreign countries, so it was strange.

You glanced up at the blinking red light of the camera that stalked the hall, debating whether to shoot it or not. You decided against it, since it would only be more damning for you and Fox in the long run. At least if you were able to save the PM, it would serve as evidence of your support if required.

Fox silently nodded at you then a slightly ajar door. There were hushed whispers from inside, two men’s voices. Your hand reached beneath the fabric of your dress, pulling out a tranquiliser gun. You returned the nod, following Fox’s lead as you entered the room.

In front of you, the supposed Iranian minister – a killer for hire, as you knew from the briefing given to you by Fox – hovered over the prime minister, knife in hand. His guards were nowhere in sight, either having been dismissed by the PM or killed by the other man. Neither of the two were aware of your presence which meant you had an easy shot. The quiet pew of the tranquiliser gun echoed throughout the room as you fired the shot into the assassin, watching him drop instantaneously, landing atop of the prime minister whose eyes widened.

A breath of relief left Fox’s lips as he pulled out a device, beginning to contact the security team assigned to you both for this mission.

You approached the PM with a reassuring smile, pulling the other man’s limp body from him.

“He’s not dead,” you explained as you cuffed the man’s hands. “Just asleep. Tranquiliser.” Were your words as you sheathed the gun back into the holster beneath your dress.

The brunette man in front of you nodded, muttering a quiet thank you as you helped him to his feet with inquiries about how he was feeling. Once you were certain that he was fine – and ensuring that the culprit was safely escorted from the premises – you excused both yourself and previous partner, desperate the leave the building.

Following Fox was nothing new, especially into alleyways; they were, after all, good hiding spots, especially for finding intel.

It was a weird sense of deja-vu. 7 days ago, you were stood in his current position, watching him request your return. Now, you stood where he had, your back to the outside world, yet you were not the one asking.

“We did good,” Fox says. “We always did, Hound. Emma would be proud.”

Your body tensed at her name.

“Don’t bring my sister into this,” you murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear. “She was innocent. She didn’t deserve to die for what I did.” A shaky inhale. “It should have been me. I was the one who messed up the mission. She was just a kid, and they punished her for my mistake.”

“It made you a better soldier,”

“It made me want to die. My little sister was killed just to punish me, and you wonder why I don’t want to return.”

Fox nodded. “I understand, Meryl.”

You shook your head. “No, you don’t.”

You watched as Fox took a deep breath, clearly trying to think of a reply. He knew you were right. He would never understand, no matter how hard he tried to.

“I won’t return,” your voice was strong as you spoke. “I like my life here. I like my day-to-day, even if it gets boring. I like my co-workers, my friends… I love them, all of them. Even if I mess up sometimes, they forgive me. The lives of people and the world aren’t in my hands. If I make a mistake, people don’t die… usually. Living here… it’s what I want. I love it. And I know people may not forgive me for lying, but… I still love them. I want to help them, and that’s why I agreed to help today. Mycroft may never forgive me for lying to him, but at least I saved him a bunch of work and stress by preventing his boss from being assassinated.”

You swallowed, eyes wide as you watched your past partner begin to chuckle.

“I never knew you could be so soppy, Meryl.” He continued chuckling. “I suppose I should call you Y/N now, though. Emma did always like calling you that.”

You smiled at the mention of your sister’s favourite name for you. “It was my way of keeping her memory alive. She gave me that name when we played pretend as kids. I’ll never forgive them for what they did to her.”

Fox returned your smile, approaching you. You watched him with curious eyes as he glanced behind you with a smile, patting your shoulder twice before muttering just quiet enough for you to hear. “Maybe not all hope is lost.” He said before walking past you. “Mr. Holmes.”

“Alan,” the familiarity of Mycroft’s voice had you spinning on your heels, revealing Mycroft stood less than a meter away, Fox facing him. “Or whatever your name is.”

“Classified, I’m afraid. Though, I’m sure you could find out quite easily.” Fox said with a nod. “If you ever want to return, they’ll always take you back. I’ll always take you back. We were partners, that doesn’t just disappear.”

You nodded, a simple thank you leaving your lips as you watched Fox leave, likely not for the last time, but hopefully the next time it will be more casually rather than work-related.

You and Mycroft stood in silence for a few minutes, unsure at what to say. You had resided yourself to the fact that he hated you – understandably so, in your head – and prepared to apologise and say your final goodbye when he spoke.

“Can we talk?”

You looked at him as though he had spoken some alien language. Confusion overtook you at the realisation that he wanted to hear you out.

“Only if I can get out of this outfit. The wig is making me itch.”

A car ride back to Mycroft’s home and one shower later was all you needed to feel better. Now that the itchiness of the wig had disappeared and you were in the comfort of some of Mycroft’s more casual clothes, you felt at ease, especially with the warm mug in your hands.

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, processing everything that had happened as you sipped the warm liquid. The fire crackled beside you both as you faced each other, the expensive leather of the couch providing a comfort you never believed to be possible.

He didn’t rush you; there was no point. Mycroft knew you well enough by now to know that you would speak when you were ready, rushing that would not help.

Neither of you knew how long you sat there, only that the warmth of the fire did not match the warmth that you felt being in one another’s presence again. A week, while not much to most people, was a long time to be apart from the person you loved, even if you believed that they did not love you back.

“It’s true.” Were your first words. “My job. Well, I mean… obviously it’s true, you literally saw me working.” Your words were rushed as you struggled to explain. He was patient, something you forgot he had the ability to be sometimes. “I obviously can’t tell you everything. You can read a lot, I know that, but that isn’t everything. Somethings, I can’t tell you.”

Mycroft nodded in understanding but remained silent, allowing you to continue.

“Emma isn’t in there. They knew better than to document that.” Your voice was shaky. “I made a mistake once, during a mission. I got caught, had to be saved. The company didn’t like that… and because I failed them and made them waste resources, they… killed her. My punishment, I suppose.”

Tears slipped from your eyes as you spoke. Emma, despite always being in your mind, was rarely spoken about. You tried not to think about what happened to her and instead focused on the positives. Talking about what happened made you feel weak. So weak that you weren’t sure that you could continue. You blamed yourself, that much was obvious. You paused, shaky breaths being the only sound that you could hear.

Mycroft’s hand grasped your own, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and that was all the strength you needed.

“She used to call me Y/N, when we played pretend as kids. Our parents were never around and when they were, it was never good. When I was eighteen, I was promised safety for us both, so I agreed. I wanted nothing more than to protect Emma, but in the end, I couldn’t even do that.”

The leather of the sofa creaked as Mycroft shuffled towards you.

“It’s not your fault,” his voice was quiet and earnest. “You did what you could with the information you were given. What happened to her is not your fault.” He reached out the grab a tissue from his pocket, gently dabbing at your tears. “I don’t like that you lied to me, but I understand why you did it.” Mycroft took a deep breath as he placed the tissue on the table in front of the sofa. “Admittedly, I didn’t know what to believe; I even contacted Sherlock to do his ‘detective work’.”

You laughed. “I thought you didn’t like feeling like his client?”

Mycroft shook his head with a scoff. “Not at all. He made me sit on the ‘client chair’ and interrogated me.” The corner of his lips lifted as her heard you laugh at the image. “But I trust you. I…” Mycroft paused, gaze turning to the fireplace as he swallowed, taking a deep breath. “I love you, even if you are frustrating sometimes.”

Your free hand reached out the turn Mycroft to face you.

“I love you too,” you whispered, leaning forward to press your lips to his in a light kiss. “And I promise you that I’ll never lie to you again.”

A smile crawled onto his lips as he cleared his throat.

“Good, because if I have to work with Sherlock and John again, I think I may just give up. Honestly, they were so-“

Mycroft’s rant about his brother and his friend went mostly unheard by you and you pressed yourself against Mycroft’s chest, feeling him freeze for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and continuing his rant.

[lilmoonbunny]

Drunken Words (See You Then); Ryland Grace

You drunkenly invite your co-worker to join you and your friends drinking, but your ex showing up wasn't a part of the plan.

Warnings: AU (no astrophage), drunk!reader, alcohol, your ex is kinda a dick, mention of being sick, dialogue-heavy towards the end, not proofread.

You hadn’t thought much about telling your friends about your relatively new crush on your unbelievably hot co-worker. After all, it wasn’t like they’d ever have the privilege of meeting Dr. Grace. Well, at least, that was what you had initially thought, until he spotted you outside of a bar and said hello, as most kind co-workers would do!

Of course, this wouldn’t be a problem – it was just your co-worker being polite! – had you not just taken numerous shots of some random liquid and invited him to join you. Yeah, that could be a problem, especially considering your groups issue with drunken words, yourself included!

“J-join you…?” Dr. Grace stuttered out, wide eyes focused solely on your face, much to your joy considering the… somewhat revealing… outfit you had chosen tonight. “Are you-“he glanced around the smoking area for a moment, “alone?”

You shook your head with such a speed that your vision began to spin, and you stumbled forward. Your future of faceplanting the floor in front of Ryland was coming closer and oh God, that’s so embarra- wait, why hadn’t you hit the floor…? And what was this warmth on your upper arms?

“Careful,” he chuckled as he glanced down at you, large palms gently holding you steady.

Your eyes trailed up the dorky Ah! The Element of Surprise t-shirt, cheeks flushing as you observed the muscles beneath said shirt. The moment your eyes reached his, his cheeks flushed and eyes widened before checking you were steady and releasing his grip, followed by a stuttered apology.

“I-it’s okay, Dr. Grace. I quite liked it,” your words were slurred, alcohol clouding your judgement.

Grace’s eyes widened further, blush darkening. In your drunken state, you had not realised his furious blush, nor his raging nerves and instead reached out to hold his hand. He continued staring down at you – and desperately tried to avoid looking any lower than your chin – as you held his shaking hand and pressed the palm flat against your cheek.

“You’re so warm,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you nuzzled into the skin.

“A-are you cold? I-“He stumbled over his words, freezing up completely as you opened your eyes to look up at him, continuing to nuzzle into his hand which had quickly increased in its shaking. Grace swallowed, his throat bobbing with the action, before speaking again. “I can give you my jacket…? I-if you’d like! Only if you want to, obviously! I mean I don’t want to fo-“

His rambling ended abruptly as you leaned forward, placing your hands on sides beneath his signature fox cardigan. Grace froze, yet again, his palm remaining pressed to your cheek as you snuggled into his chest, mumbling about his warmth into his chest.

Had you been a little more sober, you would have heard his racing heartbeat and felt the shaking of his hand that was touching you.

“Ryland, I-“

Your drunken confession was, thankfully, cut short by two of your friends calling your name as they exited the bar, glancing around the zone before their eyes landed on you, still snuggled into your co-worker’s chest.

“Guys!” You called, cheek still pressed to Dr. Grace’s chest as you waved them over with a smile.

Your friend, Alisha, looked between you and Ryland for a moment, drunkenly trying to piece together what was happening. Meanwhile, Rebecca – who didn’t drink and only came out as moral support – realised instantly.

“Dr. Grace, I assume?” Rebecca asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hearing his name seemed to snap him from his stupor, his free hand bawling into a fist while the one that rested on your cheek moved to awkwardly grasp at the back of his neck.

“I-uh…” He stuttered, eyes wide with panic. “Yes, that’s me. You’re not here to yell at me about that paper, are you?”

Rebecca smiled, glancing at you who was still snuggled to Grace’s chest.

“No, Y/N just mentions you a lot,” she explained with a nod towards you.

Alisha giggled and nodded in agreement. “Totally! She like never shuts up about you!”

You reluctantly pulled away from Ryland’s chest, pointing at Alisha.

“That’s not true!” You paused, contemplating your next words. “…It isn’t always… I do talk about other things!”

“Yeah, like how dreamy he-“

Rebecca cut you both off while pulling you away from Grace, knowing how much you would regret this tomorrow. “I’m sorry about this, Dr. Grace. We were having a… celebration, of sorts, but we seem to have gotten carried away.”

A nervous laugh fell from his lips as he became acutely aware of how strange this situation was.

He was outside a bar, where you were celebrating… something, but you were also… hugging him? Surely, you knew of his feelings and that’s why you were acting like this, right!? He had never given much thought to the phrase ‘drunken words are sober thoughts,’ and momentarily wondered if it also applied to actions before quickly shoving away the thought and instead replacing it with a self-deprecating one.

Wait, but your friends are here! Oh Gosh, they’re going to think he’s a weirdo who is creeping on a very attractive and very very drunk girl. Wait, but they know him and you have talked about him, so maybe they won’t think that? But what if they do!?

“Nooo,” your whine cut his thoughts short. “Don’t send him awayyy, Becs! Please join us, Dr. Grace!”

“Yeah, you should come inside, even just for a little while! I know Y/N would really like that.” Alisha chimed in, ending her sentence with a wink that had his cheeks flushing again.

Rebecca sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t you think he has plans? You can’t just beg random people to join you, Alisha!”

A small smile crawled onto the science teachers face as he glanced between the trio. Your two friends were bickering between themselves while you stared up at him with a hopeful look and a small smile.

“I’ll come in for a little bit,” he said without thinking, breath leaving his lungs as you shoved yourself into him again, his arms wrapping around you to prevent another potential fall. “Be careful,” he murmured, words barely audible to your friends.

You smiled, a light pink dusting your cheeks. “Thanks! You’re like… a real-life hero!”

Grace chuckled quietly, arms dropping back to his sides.

“Come on then,” Alisha said with a grin. “Back inside we go!” She said, skipping off with Rebecca hot on her trail.

Ryland flinched as you wrapped yourself around his arm, attempting to pull him inside the bar but stumbling again. Thankfully, his quick reflexes kept you upright.  

“My hero!”

How Ryland’s ‘little bit’ turned into him still being in the bar two hours later, he wasn’t entirely sure, but as he watched you dancing with Alisha, a large grin on your lips, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision.

Truth is, Dr. Grace had always been fond of you. In fact, he still remembers the day that you joined the school, your eyes nervously flicking around the corridors, so much so that you didn’t see him and collided straight into his chest, his arms steadying you before you fell, unlike your books that hit the ground. It was a day that he remembered fondly and he felt that it was a good start to your friendship.

Oh, yeah… Friendship, that’s all this is…

“She really likes you, you know?” Your friend - Rebecca, as she introduced herself earlier – spoke from beside him, her eyes never leaving you as she continued to sip her coke. “And I’ll be honest, I doubted you a lot at first since Y/N has never had a good taste in men, but you care about her; I can see it in the way you look at her.”

Ryland’s eyes darted from the dancefloor to Rebecca whose eyes remained trained on you. Heat rose to his cheeks as he wondered how obvious he had been with his affections.

Rebecca continued, “you’re overthinking it,” her eyes moved to him for a moment before turning back to scanning the crowd. “She cares for you a lot, and you care for her. Just go for it, Dr. Grace, before someone else does.” Her words weren’t unkind, yet they sent a pain through his chest. Rebecca didn’t notice, though, simply placing her emptied glass in front of her.

What if you did meet someone else? What if you liked them more than you like him?

Wait.

You like him.

Wait…

You like him.

Wait.

You like him!

Too deep in his thoughts about this new revelation, Ryland Grace had not heard Rebecca announce her urgent need to depart. He hadn’t even realised, not until numerous minutes had past and a man stood in front of him.

“Are you him?” The man shouted over the overly loud music.

Ryland looked up at the man, clearly shorter than him and a lot less muscular, yet he still had a face of thunder. Had Ryland known this man, he may have been afraid, but he doesn’t know this man, so it’s fine!

“I said are you him? As in, are you Dr. Grace?”

Oh, never mind. Clearly, he should be afraid!

Ryland, too confused to answer, simply stared at the man, watching his angry gaze with confusion.

“I-“

Ryland wasn’t given time to answer the stranger as said stranger was suddenly surrounded by you and your friends.

“Leave him alone, James,” your voice less slurred than it had been earlier, despite having consumed more alcohol. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s not a part of this.”

The man – James, apparently – turned to face you with an even angrier look on his face, opening his mouth to speak.

“Yeah, James,” Alisha interrupted. “Y/N’s love life has nothing to do with you anymore! You left her, for another woman, at that!”

“Yep, so don’t try and come crawling back and begging for forgiveness now that your true self has been exposed.” Rebecca continued Alisha’s thoughts. “Besides, Dr. Grace cares for her a lot more than you ever did. Not to mention that he’s much better than you.” Rebecca’s eyes landed on Grace, moving between him and you in a silent plea.

James paused for a moment. His eyes moved to you, staring at your very annoyed look.

Ryland stood from his seat, moving to stand beside you and wrapping his arm around your waist, praying that James hadn’t noticed the shakiness of the action or the sweat covering his palms.

James watched as the blush raced onto your cheeks and you leaned into Ryland with a small smile.

“That’s right,” Grace nodded, attempting to keep his voice steady. “Y/N and I are,” he paused, debating his words, “together. I would appreciate it if you left my girlfriend alone.”

Ryland had never been one to be grateful for his physique, at least, not until now. But as James balled his fists and gritted his teeth, preparing to throw a punch, only to back-out when he saw Grace’s muscular form, he found himself praising himself for not skipping the gym.

“Fine,” James spat. “It seems I’m overruled. Whatever, I didn’t care anyway.” Were his final words before he stomped away.

The four of you watched as your ex shoved past people to get outside.

“I think it’s time we called it a night,” you said to nobody in particular, yet it was something everyone agreed on.

Walking into Grover Cleveland Middle School on Monday morning had never been difficult. You love your students, and hearing about their weekends was always a pleasure. However, knowing that you would have to face Dr. Grace, your co-worker, after you threw-up all over his shoes while he helped you climb out of a cab and walked you to your door… well, it wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought, to say the least. Your plan was to avoid him the entire day – and hopefully the entire rest of your career - and you believed you had succeeded until he entered your classroom during lunch break.

“Hey,” came his casual greeting as he shut the door behind him, a quiet click echoing off the colourful walls.

You swallowed, the air suddenly leaving your lungs, both at the fact he was there and how good he looked as he stared at you. Ryland Grace was stunning, so much so that you had to avert your gaze.

“Hello,”

Ryland paused, clearly expecting a different response.

“I…” he began, bringing his arm to awkwardly grasp at his neck. “I haven’t seen you all day, so I… you know, wanted to make sure you weren’t still hungover.” A chuckle left his lips and you could feel his own gaze burning into the side of your head.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, picking up a pen and pretending to mark some random paper that was on your desk. “If this is about your shoes, I will give you the money to buy new ones, I swear!”

Dr. Grace’s loud laughter pulled your ‘attention’ from the paper and up to him where he stood with a large grin while shaking his head.

“I’m not bothered about the shoes, Y/N. I came to… I came to, erm-“

Now you were curious…?

Placing the pen – which you now realise still had the cap on and was upside down – back on the desk, you spun to face him, finally meeting his eyes. Or, at least you tried, only to be met with a red-cheeked Grace who was desperately avoiding your eyes.

“What is it? Are you okay? It isn’t James, is it?”

“No! No, no, it’s not that. James, I-no, it isn’t that.” Ryland took a deep breath. “I came to ask if you wanted to go out?”

“After last time?”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, not like that. As in… a date, i-if you want to! It’s fine if you don’t, I ju-“

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Ryland,” you smiled, watching his eyes widen as though he hadn’t expected you to agree, despite your friend’s encouragement. “If you aren’t completely put off by me after Friday night,”

Grace’s erratic shaking of his head had you giggling behind your hand, watching as his wide eyes moved to your face, a small smile forming on his own lips.

“Is that… a yes, then?”

“Yes, it is.”

The previously small smile of his grew into a wide grin and he struggled to form a sentence for a moment.

“Cool! I mean, uh-that’s awesome? Erm, I- I’ll see you tonight? Wait, are you free tonight…? I should have asked! Oh my God , I-“

You laughed again, “I’ll see you tonight. Let’s say… 5:30?”

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly processing your words.

“Y-yeah! 5:30, sounds good! His words were rushed, his hand lifting to give you a thumbs up just as the bell rang to alert everyone to end of lunch. “I’ll see you then!” Came his final words as he walked backwards, straight into the door that he had previously closed. “Y-yeah, 5:30, cool! See you then!” Grace continued to ramble as he reached behind to find the handle without breaking eye contact.

With a shake of your head and a smile, you waved off Ryland with a final see you then.

[lilmoonbunny]

Together; SDV Shane

After a drunken hook-up turned confession, Shane avoids you. Unfortunately for him, you aren't willing to let it go that easily.

Warnings: Mentions of hook-ups/sex, alcohol mention, slight hurt/comfort?

When you stumbled home from the Saloon with Shane clinging to you, pressing kisses against the skin of your neck, you hadn’t expected much beyond a quick hook-up with your friend. You hadn’t expected him to confess his love for you as he neared his climax, and clearly he hadn’t expected it either, nor had he expected you to express the same sentiment.

You hadn’t expected much, but you also hadn’t expected him to completely ghost you, slipping back into the feign – at least you hoped – annoyance at you. It hurt. How could it not? One minute you two were close, confessing your love for one another, and the next, you’re strangers again.

Your friends picked up on the sudden switch, mainly Haley who rolled her eyes and told you that you deserved better anyway, but most of them left it be; they knew what Shane was like, after all. Unlike your friends, you couldn’t let it go and spent many of your nights in the saloon, desperately hoping that Shane would show… but he never did.

“He misses you,” Emily said with a kind smile as she dried the rim of a glass. “You should try talk to him.”

You paused, gaze moving from the closed door to Emily.

“I have talked to him; he just doesn’t want anything to do with me!”

Emily’s smile dropped slightly, but not enough for concern.

“Just talk to him, one more attempt can’t hurt, right? He’s probably there again, maybe having a drink, maybe not,”

While you weren’t sure exactly where she was referring to at first, you soon caught up once she mentioned having a drink: he would be where you two had had your first proper conversation.

With a quick ‘thanks’, you left the saloon with a newfound determination.

He was there, much to your surprise, nursing a Joja Cola rather than his usual alcoholic beverage. His gaze was downcast, watching the moons reflection from the gentle ripples of the water below. He was clearly so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed you until you sat beside him, breaking the silence with a simple statement.

“You’ve been gone,”

He flinched, the soft drink sloshing over the sides of the can. His eyes darted to you, but only for a second, before looking up at the moon, the fullness reflecting in his eyes as you watched him.

“Yeah.”

There wasn’t much point denying it; it was obvious.

“Why?”

Shane paused, body tensing as he let out a long, yet quiet sigh.

Silence, besides the crickets and waves, fell over you both. Shane, still tense, dragged his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, before replying.

“You deserve better,” he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought I could be better for you, tried stopping the drink, too.” He continued, raising the cola to his lips and taking a sip.

You watched him, eyes wide, as he continued to avoid your gaze, instead favouring to fiddle with the can. No words were shared between you for a moment while you figured out how to respond to this new revelation.

“I don’t want better, whatever that may be, Shane. I want you,”

A quick inhale came from him, and you watched as his hand tightened around the can, the material crunching slightly. He shook his head.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,”

You shook your head, gently grabbing the can from his hand as he continued to crush it. His hand, now empty, balled itself into a fist, knuckles white.

“I do mean it. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” Honesty bled through your tone as you pleaded with Shane. “If you don’t want this, then that’s fine, I can let it go and never bring it up again but-“

Shane cut you off, eyes darting up to you at the assumption, holding your gaze.

“I do want this,” he said, eyes dropping back to the water. “That’s the problem, Y/N. I’ve never wanted anything more, and I don’t know how to feel about that.” Shane’s voice trailed off into a mere whisper.

Your hand reached out, slowly holding his fist while giving him chance to pull away. He didn’t, and so you carefully unclenched his hand and ran your thumb across the back once it was relaxed.

“Then, we can figure it out together. We can take it at your pace, only do things when you’re comfortable. I’m willing to wait for you, Shane. We can do this together, okay?”

Shane nodded, swallowing as he finally looked up at you and stared at your face for longer than three seconds. A small smile graced his lips as he spoke.

“Yeah, okay. Together.”

[lilmoonbunny]

The Sparring Incident; OPLA!Sanji

You challenge Sanji to spar, unaware that it would change your friendship forever (aka Zoro has terrible timing).

Your friendship with Sanji had always been a good one and you weren’t exactly sure when things – for yourself, anyway – had begun to change; when those purely platonic feelings had changed into something… more. You weren’t sure when, but it had definitely happened.

Your previously fun cooking sessions became torturous sometimes, your heart racing whenever he would stand behind you, arms around your frame as his hands helped your own chop whatever it was that was needed for the day’s meal. Your heart would beat so loud you swore he could hear it or, even worse, feel it.

Despite it all, you managed to hide your feelings from almost everyone, and especially from Sanji. You could maintain the front of only harbouring a friendly love for the cook, even when inside, the truth wasn’t that simple.

Although you were trying your best to hide your feelings, you couldn’t help but… indulge yourself sometimes.

“Sanji,” you spoke to moment you entered the Going Merry’s kitchen, knowing that he would be in there.

“Yes, my sweet?”

There it was again. That name. The one he only used for you. The one that had Nami, who had discovered your feelings one drunken night, absolutely convinced that your feelings were reciprocated.

“He never calls anyone anything remotely near that!”She had said. “Madam, yes. Maybe even love. But never has he called anyone his! Never his sweet!”

You shook your head at the thought.

“Will you spar with me? I’m sick of practicing with Zoro, he’s too… Zoro.” You begged, face pleading with the man who, unknowingly to you, could never deny you anything.

He smiled at you for a moment, a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place, before replying.

“Of course I will, my sweet, as long as you’re sure you can handle it.” He said, wiping his hands on a hand towel then tossing it onto the counter behind him, his gaze never leaving yours.

You giggled at his teasing, a common occurrence between you both. You held his gaze, not daring to risk a glance at the grin on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll even win, Sanji. You’re awfully confident for someone who has never even sparred with me!”

Now it was his turn to laugh, and with a shake of his head, he led you out of the kitchen, walking towards your destination side-by-side while enjoying the light chatter that easily flowed between you.

The room was thankfully empty, Zoro presumably napping, when you arrived. Said swordsman had left his extremely heavy weights in the centre of the mats you used for sparring and you were glad that Sanji, despite his appearance, had the strength to move them for you. Despite being strong yourself, you most likely wouldn’t have been able to move them more than two steps without losing your grip and sending them clattering to the ground, or maybe even your feet.

“So,” Sanji turned to you with a small smile, something that wasn’t uncommon, “how do you want to do this?”

You watched him closely as he shrugged his jacket from his shoulders, placing it neatly on top of a barrel that had somehow ended up there. With him now facing away from you, you were given a moment to freely admire his frame without worrying about exposing yourself, only to quickly switch back to your façade the moment he turned back.

“What? How do I want to kick your ass?”

“If you say so, my sweet,”

A slight smile crawled onto your lips alongside the tiniest blush at the amused look he was giving you. The way he looked at you – as though you were the one who hung the stars in the sky – would often leave you feeling breathless and nervous under his piercing gaze.

You slid off your own jacket, carelessly tossing it to the side, unlike Sanji’s careful placement.

“Why don’t we just start off small? First to down the other, no countdown.” You offered.

Usually, your spars with Zoro would be the first to down the other for ten seconds, which was quite complicated when both of you hated losing and were able to rival the others fighting strength; your ‘fights’ would continue for extended periods of time.

Sanji nodded, moving to stand in the centre of the mat, you quickly following his movements, and as you both faced each other, preparing to spar, nerves suddenly sparked in your stomach.

You were about to spar with Sanji; the guy you have harboured feelings towards for a while now. The guy who you struggled to act normal around when he was close to you, even though it was just showing you the safest way to chop vegetables. The guy who you loved.

Oh, fuck, you love him.

“You’re ready, yeah?” The voice of the man plaguing your thoughts was, ironically enough, the one to pull you from them.

You nodded.

“On three?”

You nodded again, willing yourself to focus as he begun to countdown.

As expected, Sanji’s tactic was to fight with his legs, and you were quick to dodge his left leg swinging to knock you off your feet with a jump. With a perfect landing, you were able to grab his leg before he could be completely balanced and with a quick tug, you sent him toppling to the ground, leaving you giggling, him being quick to join in once he realised what had happened.

“Not a bad move,” he said as he took your outstretched hand, dusting himself off once he was steady again. “Again? This time to see who can subdue the other for three seconds?”

Your sparring session went on longer than anticipated, and had either of you been paying attention, you would have realised that it was nearing mealtime. Now, that would have been fine, had Sanji not been the one who was supposed to be finishing cooking the meal for said mealtime.

Sweat was beading on both of your faces as you tried to knock each other down, now having to do so for ten seconds to be crowned the winner of that fight.

The fabric of your shorts had lifted higher with each spar and Sanji’s shirt was becoming increasingly creased, something that was unnatural for him, yet he didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he didn’t care.

Sanji had changed his tactics now and rather than opening with a kicker, literally, he instead waited for you to make the first move, which you were happy to oblige. Swinging, although with less power than you would in an actual fight, towards his middle, he narrowly dodged, sending his leg out to hopefully topple you.

His ankle hit your own with a speed that almost sent you to the ground, but you managed to steady yourself, digging your heels into the mat beneath you to do so. Your eyes quickly scanned his body, noticing how his chest was heaving and the ankle he had swung at you was still yet to fully land. Without a second thought, you dashed to trip him, watching the shock quickly cross his face before he reacted.

Sanji – clearly wanting to catch you off guard – used his hand to grab at your torso, hoping to down you instead, but rather than his move being successful, the pair of you toppled to the ground, the chef landing on his back with a groan and you landing on top of him.

Considering this a victory, you didn’t think much on the… compromising… position that you were currently in: Sanji lying on his back while you sat up in, body resting on his lap as you looked down at him with a triumphant grin.

“I win!” You said, pausing for a moment as you took in the sight beneath you.

Sanji, red-faced and panting through parted lips, looked up at you with something similar to admiration shining in his gaze as he watched you. Your eyes widened, a blush quickly covering your own face when his hand moved to rest on your waist, thumb caressing the skin below your raised shirt.

Nothing but both of your pants could be heard as you stared at each other, Sanji’s gaze momentarily dropping to your lips while you ran your tongue across, before lifting back up to your eyes, thumb still rubbing circles.

You weren’t entirely sure what possessed you – maybe it was his movements or maybe it was just him – as you slowly began to lean towards him, the last sight before you close your eyes being Sanji’s dilated pupils.

Your lips were millimetres apart, breaths hitting each other’s lips, when you hear a loud bang sound beside you, followed by heavy footsteps that you knew could only belong to thew crew’s swordsman.

Your body jolted, eyes shooting open as you practically jumped from Sanji’s lap with shaking hands before bolting from the training room, leaving behind a shocked Sanji and a very confused Zoro.

“Did I interrupt something?” Zoro asked, shooting Sanji a weird look.

Sanji lifted himself to his feet.

“Shut it, mosshead,”

“Whatever,” came his response. “Luffy says what’s for lunch since it’s late.”

The cooks’ eyes widen, an action which he was glad went unnoticed by Zoro, as he realised both the time and the fact that you had almost kissed him.

Sanji swallowed, nodding before wordlessly heading to the kitchen, leaving Zoro even more confused.

He couldn’t focus.

Sanji, a man who prided himself on his ability to cook anything with ease, could not focus. Well, he could focus, but not on the task at hand. No, the only thing his mind allowed him to think on was how the warmth of your body felt against his and the feeling of your pants against his face.

“Sanji,” Nami’s voice broke the silence in the room as he served up the lunch that he had struggled to cook. “Are you… okay?”

Sanji looked up at her, forcing a smile, as he nodded.

“Of course, love,”

Nami, of course, wasn’t convinced, and was only further convinced that something was going on when Sanji spent the entire meal watching the door while you weren’t there with them. In true Nami fashion, she did not comment, but she did keep the thought in mind for later use.

It was late into the night when you finally headed to the kitchen to grab some food, hovering outside the room long enough to check the Sanji was asleep.

You couldn’t face him. How could you ever face him again? You had almost kissed him! Sanji! How could you do such a thing!? He was your crewmate! Your… friend. That’s all you two were! Nothing more.

With a sigh, you quietly opened the door to the kitchen, flicking on a dim light to try and find something to eat. However, clearly Sanji had thought about you and had left you a plate of food on the side.

God, you wanted to hit him…

Why was he so nice to you…?

Your hands shook slightly as you reached for the plate, taking a deep breath to rid your mind of any thoughts that may pass through as you considered his kindness.

No, there was nothing but friendly concern behind his actions, right?

Sanij was a mess.

You hadn’t spoken to him in three days.

Three days.

He had seen you in passing, you desperately avoiding his gaze while he tried everything to get your attention.

He watched you spar with Zoro, laugh with Nami, even watch Usopp make his latest ‘bullets, but you wouldn’t talk to him… You wouldn’t even look at him.

Did he make you uncomfortable?

Did you hate him?

God, he hoped not. That was the last thing he’d ever want! He only ever wanted you to be happy. Knowing he had made you uncomfortable pained him in ways that he couldn’t explain. He knew that he had to apologise - to right his wrongs – because the last thing he wanted was for you to hate him…

Sanji watched you fix Luffy’s lopsided hat as he devised a plan.

The kitchen was dark, as to be expected at such a time.

You were later than usual for your secret meal, Nami having kept you busy asking way too many questions that you were not willing to indulge her in. She already knew that you had feelings for Sanji, what more did she need to know? But as you walked into the kitchen, you couldn’t shake her words from your mind.

“He seems heartbroken that you won’t talk to him! I mean, he just watches you all day long!”

Yeah, right. She clearly just wanted to ease the tension that had arisen since then; you had never heard Sanij and Zoro argue so much!

You didn’t bother to flick on the light, already knowing the path to the counter where Sanji would leave you food, although, for some reason, bright light flooded your vision regardless of your decision.

“Y/N…” A whisper of your name had your body tensing, head spinning as you thought yourself under attack.

“Sanij, you scared me!” You scolded with a shake of your head.

He paused for a moment, shooting you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can we talk?”

Now it was your turn to pause, and with a shaky inhale, you nodded, mumbling a quiet okay before leaning against the counter behind you as you fiddled with your fingers.

Sanji watched your gaze drop as he stood opposite you, wracking his brain for the apology he had planned earlier that day as he watched you. It all seemed in vain now while he stood in front of you, unable to recall a single word from his apology.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unaware of your confused gaze on him as he stared at the ground. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by…” he hesitated before correcting himself. “When we were sparring. I was simply intoxicated by the closeness,” he finished, unable to resist the flirtation falling from his lips. He was about to apologise again for the flirtation, until you started giggling.

His gaze darts up to your smiling face.

“Come here,” you whisper, holding your arms wide to beckon him for a huge, one which he is glad to indulge in.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest as you did the same. You could feel the shake of his body and the creases of his shirt as he hugged you, and you weren’t fairing much better.

“The problem isn’t that I was uncomfortable,” you muttered against his chest, just loud enough for him to hear you. One hand moved to your hair, caressing lightly to encourage you to continue. “The problem is that I wasn’t… I wanted to kiss you, Sanji.”

Sanji froze, eyes widening as he slowly pulled away from the hug, looking at your blushing cheeks with a soft smile. His hand raised to your cheek, feeling the warmth against his palm as you looked up at him, the darkness beneath his eyes evident as you looked up at him.

“You still can, my sweet,” he said, free hand moving to your waist as he slowly leaned down, giving you chance to move away if you wished.

You didn’t, but you did have a question to ask.

“This isn’t just a one-time thing, is it?” You whispered, the breath of your questiom hitting his lips.

He shook his head.

“God, no. I’ve wanted nothing but to kiss you for the last four months,” he answered earnestly, lips hovering above yours until your hand grasped the back of his neck, pulling him down to press your lips against his.

A muffled noise of satisfaction left his lips as he pressed you further into the counter, thumb caressing your cheek gently as you pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. The hand that rested on your waist moved to grip at the counter beside you to keep his cool as your hand tangled itself in his hair.

Too caught up in the movement of your lips, neither you nor Sanji heard the kitchen door open until Zoro spoke.

“Glad to see you two are talking again,” he said, moving to grab a glass from beside you without sparing either of you another glance.

Sanji pulled back in both panic and shock, glaring at Zoro who paid him no attention.

“Could you have not knocked?”

“Needed a drink,” Zoro said cooly. “How was I supposed to know you two were making up in here?” He shrugged, leaving you chuckling into Sanji’s chest while Zoro left.

Sanji’s head rested itself in the crook of your neck, smiling into the skin.

“It’s always that damn mosshead,”

[lilmoonbunny]

Challenges; Chris Redfield

You challenge your boyfriend to do 100 push-ups over you and he foolishly believed it would be a fair fight.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, Chris calls you pet names like every sentence, oral (M receiving), unprotected sex/finishing inside, reader calls Chris 'good boy' once but no dom/sub dynamics, implied bondage (doesn't happen), not proofread. Let me know if I forgot anything!

It had started as a joke, a little challenge, if you would; it wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. In fact, if you were to be honest, you didn’t think Chris would have even agreed to your silly question. Even as you lay on the ground, watching him lower himself down, part of you still expected him to back out.

“100 push-ups, you said?” Chris asked, relaying the rules you had proposed.

Yes, 100 push-ups without stopping.

When he, much to your surprise, immediately agreed to the challenge, you had to change the rules somewhat. Instead of just doing 100 push-ups, he had to do 100 push-ups while you laid beneath him. After all, what could he possibly lose from you watching him up-close? Surely not the challenge, right?

Chris would have been lying had he said the sight of you beneath him didn’t distract him, especially the way you looked up at him with a satisfied smile, but he wasn’t about to back out of this now. You had promised to cook his favourite meal for him if he succeeded and damn, did he want that food.

And so he began.

Chris lowered himself, muscles flexing as came face-to-face with you, noses brushing for a moment before he raised himself back up.

“One,” You counted, giggling as he raised an eyebrow before lowering himself back down.

“You’re counting?”

You could briefly feel the breath leaving his lips as he spoke, watching him closely as he pushed himself back up.

“Two,” you said. “And, of course I am. How will we know if you beat this if I don’t count? You could say you were counting and cheat!”

Chris shook his head at your words as he continued his movements.

“Cheat my lovely girlfriend on a bet this easy? I would never. That’s three.”

It didn’t take long for you to bore of counting. Yes, seeing Chris above you was exciting – enticing, may be the better word – but counting his push-ups quickly grew tiring and you decided to make the challenge a little bit more… difficult.

“27,” you said, as he raised himself up again, a plan quickly forming inside your mind.

“Told you this would be easy,” Chris smirked before lowering himself down, only to lose said smirk the moment your lips pressed against his.

Chris, never one to deny his lover anything, immediately paused, kissing you back. Had you lacked the determination, you would have given in then and there, but alas, you did not and pulled away from his lips.

“No stopping, remember?” The tone of your voice matched the teasing the smile on your lips as you watched Chris’ eyes widen a fraction before narrowing. “Those were the rules.”

With a shake of his head and an amused look in his eyes, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am,”

“Good boy,” it was meant to be a joke, just like how this had started, but the way the breath left his lips and his pupils dilated had you licking your, already moistened, lips and rubbing your thighs together once he lowered himself again and you felt the slight hardness press against you. “29,”

One of your hands moved to grasp at his bicep, feeling the muscle tense during the movements. You couldn’t help it, you just had to squeeze slightly, enjoying the way he shuddered as you kissed him again.

“Baby,” he panted – whether from the exercise or your actions, you weren’t entirely sure – as he raised himself up again. “This isn’t fair,”

“Aw, Chris, baby,” you cooed, lifting your other hand to his cheek, gently caressing the skin while squeezing his bicep again. “I thought this was easy?”

Chris knew you. He knew you far too well and could easily figure out your aim, even if it hadn’t started with those intentions, and he wasn’t about to let you win this game. You couldn’t hold back your smirk as his movements hastened and he began to count himself.

“Oh, are you counti-“ You tried to speak again, only for Chris to silence with his own lips, immediately pulling away to push himself up again and repeat.

Oh, that fucker, you thought to yourself as you watched him smirk at your reaction.

“47,”

You shook your head with a breathless laugh as you removed your hand from his cheek, seemingly placing it back to your side. Chris didn’t think anything of it, simply assuming that it was tiring for you to keep up with his movements. Well, he that was until he felt your fingers squeezing at his bulge as he lowered himself again, hips jolting at the feeling with such a force that he almost lost his balance.

The glare that he gave you did nothing to deter you, however, as you pressed your lips against his again, squeezing both his bicep and bulge, smiling to yourself as he groaned, hands shaking either side of your head.

“F-fifty three,” he grunted out, voice shaking as he desperately tried to maintain his composure. “See, eas-“ His attempt to deflect was cut short by your fingers toying with the buckle of his belt, fiddling to undo it.

Your wrist pressed into his bulge somewhat – purposely on your part, but he didn’t know that – and Chris couldn’t resist the grind of his hips as you unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops and discarding it to your right.

With another shaking breath, Chris lowered himself, pausing for a second right above your lips, body pressing against your own slightly.

“If you don’t keep your hands to yourself, you’ll regret throwing that so close to me,”His muttered words were a warning, but you weren’t deterred as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, watching Chris’ eyes shift to watch.

“But then you’d have to stop and you’d lose, wouldn’t you?” You taunted, releasing your lip and licking where your teeth had been.

He hummed.

“And if I said I didn’t care?” His movements halted once he lowered himself down to you again, breath hitting your lips as you stared up at him.

“Then I’d say you lost with only thirty to g-mmph!”

The harshness of Chris’ kiss took your breath away, eyes slamming shut as you kissed back. You felt him adjust his position, moving to rest on one forearm while he used the other to press his hand to your waist.

Your own hands moved to grip his shoulder and neck, pulling him as close to you as possible, his body warmth seeping through his clothes and warming your bare thighs, leaving you mentally thanking yourself for putting on a skirt this morning.

A moan fell from your lips when Chris’ hand tugged the fabric of your shirt from inside your skirt, pushing his palm underneath and rubbing at the flesh of your waist with a tenderness that the kiss did not possess.

“C-Chris,” your voice was merely a whisper as he forced himself from your lips, breath rushing from his parted lips.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asked, kissing along your jaw and moving to your neck, giving a slight bite.

You moaned again, the hand that rested on his neck instead moving to grip his hair.

“Use your words,” he said. “C’mon, you weren’t this quiet earlier.”

The hand that rested on your waist moved to your back as you continued his assault on your neck. Rather than answering him, you tugged on his hair, a sharp exhale leaving you as he bucked his hips against you with a quiet curse.

Chris’ lips moved up your neck, along your jaw, and back to your lips while your hands ran from his shoulders, caressing his torso, until you reached his pants, quickly unbuttoning them.

Breaking the kiss, he muttered against your lips.

“If you’re going to do that, then we should probably get off the floor, shouldn’t we?”

With an eager nod, you watched as he rushed to his feet, offering you a hand to help you up. The shake of your head confused him and he watched you as you moved to your knees in front of him, hands gently tugging his pants down until he stepped out of them.

“What are you-“ His question was cut short, ending with a curse falling from his lips when you pressed a light kiss against the fabric that covered his hard cock. “Shit,” he repeated, looking down at you as your fingers toyed at the waistband of his underwear then pulled them down, hand grabbing his cock to bring it to your lips. “Sweetheart, you- ah, shit – you don’t have to,”

His words fell on deaf ears, and a loud groan left his lips, hand quickly tangling itself in your hair as your tongue began circling the tip. His grip on your hair wasn’t tight, nor was it forceful, it just… rested there, as though he couldn’t bare not to touch you, even when your tongue was relentlessly teasing.

“Mmph, shit. C’mon, baby, don’t tease me,”

He groaned again when you hummed, taking him deeper into your mouth while rubbing your thighs together in hopes of gaining some friction.

“Shit, sweetheart, I-ah fuck-“ He stuttered, beginning to caress your hair as he watched his length disappear between your lips. “Baby, your kn- mmph! – your knees must hu- fuck, shit-“ Chris’ concern for you, while sweet, was irrelevant, so you hollowed your cheeks to silence him.

Your hands ran up his thighs, mainly to steady yourself, as your mouth began to take him, tongue licking across his throbbing cock. Chris’ shaking breaths and quiet groans only egged you on as you proceeded to hollow your cheeks again, feeling his thighs tense beneath your hands.

A hum of satisfaction from you had him bucking his hips against your mouth and you felt his free hand grab at one of your own as he muttered out apologies, squeezing your hand while still stroking your hair.

“Please, baby, need to be inside you, please sweetheart,” his desperate pleas, constant pet names, and tense thighs were an obvious sign that he was close and as much as you would have liked him to cum down your throat, you couldn’t deny his need to be inside you; he had always preferred to be inside you when he finished, after all.

He panted as you slowly pulled your lips from him, hand sliding from your hair to wipe away the tears that you hadn’t realised had fallen.

“S’good f’me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Too good to me,”

You weren’t given a chance to rebuke his claim as he leant down to lift you from the ground, rushing towards the couch, saying that he just can’t make it to your shared bedroom.

Chris’ fingers ran up your thigh, not bothering to remove your skirt or underwear, simply pushing it to the side as his fingers began to press against your folds.

“So wet,” he mumbled against your lips, pressing quick kisses around your face.

You nodded.

“Please, Chris,” you moaned as his thumb circled your clit. “Just fuck me, please.”

Despite the desperate urge to be inside you, Chris paused, pulling back to stare into your eyes.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I don’t want to hurt you,”

You nodded, hand reaching down to grasp at his cock, tugging.

“I’m sure,” you nodded again, watching him as he nodded, licking his lips then helping your hand guide him to your entrance. “Just need you,”

“Me too,”

You felt, rather than heard, Chris groan into your neck as he slowly sunk into your heat, pressing open mouthed kisses against you. One hand slipped beneath your shirt, pushing your bra away from your breasts and beginning to toy with your nipple while his other hand held his weight above you.

He paused, much to your dismay, once fully inside you, breath stuttering against your skin. Your own hand ran under his shirt, enjoying the way he shuddered at your touch.

“Please move,” you begged, hearing him take a shaky breath before beginning to shift his hips, drawing a quiet moan from your lips.

His movements were slow, even after your pleading.

“’m not gon’ last long after earlier, baby,” he confessed, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he continued his slow movements.

You smiled to yourself – even when he was as desperate as he was, he still considered your pleasure more than his own – and raised your hand to play with his hair.

“It’s okay, Chris. Just need to feel you,”

Chris hummed into your neck again, pulling back slightly before pushing back into you at a quicker pace. You felt his fingers leave your nipple, dragging down your front, down your thighs, until it reached your clit, beginning to circle the sensitive bud again.

Curses fell from his lips as he felt you tighten around his cock, sliding in and out of you with ease. Despite his best attempts at holding back, he was close.

His thumb sped up on your clit, thrust becoming uneven as he panted into your ear.

“I’m close,” he said, a groan leaving his lips as you tightened again. “What do you want me to do?”

“Inside, Chris, please-“ you moaned, wrapping yourself around him to pull his hips even closer. “I’m close too.”

He nodded at your words, thrusting into you as he worked to bring you both to the edge. It didn’t take long, the mix of his deep thrusts and pressure on your clit had you tightening again as your vision blurred and body began to shake with pleasure.

Chris wasn’t fairing much better, voice shaking as he muttered countless I love you’s into your neck when he reached his own climax, hips stuttering as he spiled his release inside you, pressing soft kisses against your neck as he slowed his movements.

You didn’t give him chance to even catch his breath before you spoke up.

“You still lost the challenge, by the way,”

Chris simply shook his head, pulling from your neck to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

“I think I won in some other way, so I’m okay with that,”

[lilmoonbunny]

Never knew I needed you so bad 3 [Finale]; S.T.A.R.S Wesker

You and Wesker are late to work, the only logical choice is that you go together.

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3; you are here]

The last thing you expected after your night with Wesker was to be driven by him to work. It made sense, of course – you were both together and he had driven you home – but you hadn’t expected it.

Part of you wished that you two could have just stayed in your bed all day, but you knew that your Captain was a workaholic, and that you would have to face Chris eventually.

“There is no need to be so nervous,” Wesker commented as he drove, his hand landing on your thigh in an attempt at comforting you. “Redfield won’t try anything, especially not while I’m there.”

You wordlessly nodded in agreement, hoping that he was right.

“Besides, if my marks don’t show that you’re not interested, then Redfield is stupider than I thought.”

You couldn’t help but giggle.

You two were just over an hour late by the time you got to work. Had your phone been charged, you would have seen the masses of texts sent by most of your S.T.A.R.S co-workers.

Wesker went straight to his office the moment you both arrived, so nobody had actually seen you arrive together. It wasn’t his intention, not at all, but he had a meeting he had to rush to, one that he couldn’t miss.

“You really fucked up, Chris,” you heard Jill before you saw her, and her voice sounded anything but pleased. “You know she’s unlikely to ever forgive you.”

Chris sighed, unaware of your presence, same as Jill. You had hoped that you could just sneak past them both, but Barry had other plans.

“Looks like you and Chris had a good night,” he joked, clearly unaware of the entire situation. “I mean, you’ve been well and truly claimed.”

Both Chris and Jill’s heads snapped towards you, eyes wide.

“Morning,” you smiled at Jill, avoiding Chris’ shocked gaze.

“Y/N? We thought you weren’t coming in, and where’s Captain Wesker?” Jill asked, eyes questioning.

You paused, hesitating just long enough for Jill to realise what had happened, judging by how her mouth opened in shock. Chris, however, was too shocked at your appearance to have even heard what Jill had said.

“Y/N? I-what?” Chris’ voice was filled with both shock and hurt; you almost scoffed at the thought.

Brushing past Chris, you took a seat, ignoring the confused and concerned look that Barry was giving both you and Chris.

Chris was quick to shoot out of his seat, his previous conversation long forgotten as he came over to you.

“What do you want, Chris?”

“What happened? I mean, y-your neck!” He asked, seemingly oblivious to what those marks were, or maybe it was wishful thinking on his end.

You shrugged, avoiding Jill and Chris’ gaze. Barry had since left, having realised that there was something happening and not wanting to be a part of it. Jill watched you, concerned, all while Chris continued pestering you.

“Chris, look. You kissed someone else, I don’t want to be with you anymore, that’s that, okay. Can we not have this conversation?” You pleaded with him, wanting it to just be over with. It wasn’t exactly a conversation that you wanted to have at work either.

Chris hesitated before speaking. “Look, baby, please I- “

“I really don’t want to hear it, Chris. In fact, I don’t even care,”

Hurt covered his face before he tried to speak again, but no words came out. Chris had no idea what he could say to save your relationship, if anything. He wanted to, he desperately wanted to, but deep down he knew that his drunken mistake was unforgiveable.

“I’m sorry,” Chris mumbled, eyes focused solely on the floor in shame.

You shrugged, making eye contact with Jill who was watching intently, prepared to step in if needed. There was no need, though. What Chris had done had hurt you, yes, but it had also pushed you into new territory, something that you wouldn’t regret. Not yet, anyway.

Jill’s eyes didn’t leave your face, not even when you turned back to your work and Chris walked away. She knew, there was no way she didn’t know, and you knew that you couldn’t lie to her; Jill knew you too well for you to be able to do that… but, it didn’t mean that you couldn’t try.

“So,” Jill spoke, smirking as you kept your eyes on the screen, despite the screen only showing its desktop. “Chris said Captain Wesker saw everything last night. Said he seemed more pissed off than you did.”

Your eyes snapped up, immediately spotting Jill’s smirk, and that told you everything that you needed to know: you were caught.

You hummed, desperately trying to come up with a reasonable excuse.

“Well, I mean, he was there… Don’t think he was angry, though,” you shrugged, eyes darting back to the screen as you pretended to read something.

Jill’s smirk widened as she quietly laughed.

“You know I can see that there’s nothing on your screen, right?”

You looked up again, seeing Jill pointing at something behind you… Oh, yeah, there’s a window behind you… A window that very clearly showed that you weren’t doing anything. So you sighed, raising your hands in surrender and focusing on her.

“You caught me, I’m pretending to work. Don’t you do that too?” You said, huffing a small laugh.

“So,” Jill shook her head in amusement, watching as you brought your water bottle to your lips. “Was he good in bed?”

You choked.

Not metaphorically, not even just a slight cough, you literally choked.

Everyone had their eyes on you as Jill hit your back, helping you cough the water back up with an amused smile.

“W-who?” You asked, still attempting to feign innocence, despite knowing that you were screwed the moment you saw her smirk.

Jill glanced around the room, making sure everyone was focused on their work before she spoke.

“Captain Wesker, obviously.”

You paused, taking a deep breath,

“Jill… You can’t say anything to anyone, okay?”

Jill nodded, drawing a cross across her chest with her finger.

“You have my word,” she smiled.

You paused, looking over your shoulder towards Wesker’s office which only made your friends smile widen.

“I’m serious, Jill. I don’t even know what happened!” You took a deep breath, swallowing some more water. “It probably didn’t even mean anything. I mean, you know how he is to Chris, maybe it was just to piss him off.” You shrugged, carelessly placing your water on the desk, making a louder noise than you had anticipated.

“This is Captain Wesker, Y/N. He’s always favoured you.”

You wondered if she was trying to make you feel better - and you wouldn’t have been surprised if she was - but the look on her face was serious, as though she had never meant something more, and the more you thought about it, the more she made a valid point.

It had started small, him holding the door for you when you were passing through (and then letting it close on Chris), grabbing you things that you couldn’t quite reach without making a comment like he would to others, but then it… escalated? He was… nicer; well, as nice as Captain Wesker could be to someone.

He would teach you how to do something you were struggling with rather than reprimanding you and leaving you to figure it out on your own. In fact, you remember the nights in the shooting range with him correcting your positioning and grip quite well. His touch was light and… gentle. There was still a roughness, of course, and his voice had its usual edge, but he wasn’t… mean. You hadn’t thought much of it, simply assuming that he just didn’t want a member of his team to die on the field and embarrass him or something, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised: he had never taught anyone else like that.

You could doubt it all you wanted – and you would continue to do so for the time being – but there was proof; in fact, there was plenty of it.

Jill watched the emotions pass across your face in amusement, a teasing smile on her lips.

“See,” she grinned, glancing up as she heard a door close, and turned back to her work. “I told you,” she said, fake typing on the keyboard in front of her.

“Told you that you pretend to work,” you muttered.

She simply laughed, kicking you beneath the desk which made you laugh before finally opening a report that you needed to work on. You weren’t given a chance to begin, however, as a familiar voice caught your attention immediately.

“Y/S/N, my office, now,”

Jill grabbed your bottle, raising it to her lips simply to hide her amused grin at your flushed cheeks.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, giving Jill a light kick under the table as payback before following Captain Wesker down the hallway and into his office, blissfully unaware of Chris’ gaze following you and Jill’s amused laugh.

The door clicked shut behind you and you wordlessly watched as Wesker moved to take a seat in his usual chair, his piercing gaze landing on you once he was seated.

“Are you going to sit?”

You nodded again, nerves taking over your body.

Despite the previous nights (and this mornings) events, you felt anxious, like a student about to be told off by the headmaster. Even so, you pushed through, looking up at your Captain once you were opposite him.

“Dinner,” he said bluntly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world that would not leave you confused in any way.

“Dinner?” You asked, confusion evident on your face.

“Typically, the meal one eats at the evening, often after work,”

You let out a confused laugh. “I know what dinner is, Captain?”

He froze for a moment as the title left your lips, body tensing. He cleared his throat – and presumably his thoughts – before speaking again.

“I should hope so, dearheart,” the pet name came so casually that you were unsure that he had realised he had said it. “Dinner, me and you, tonight, after work?”

You blinked, your mouth dropping slightly in both shock and confusion.

“Are you… are you asking me on a date?”

Wesker shook his head in amusement, the tiniest smirk on his lips.

“Obviously,”

A blush darted up your cheeks, his words heating your entire body.

“Oh, well, yes then. Dinner sounds good!” You smiled at him, glancing away once he returned the eye contact.

He nodded. “Very well, I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Surely you remember where we parked.”

You chuckled, shaking your own head this time, before nodding in agreement.

Wesker nodded back, watching as you excused yourself.

Just as your hand landed on the handle, he stopped you, his hand landed atop of your own.

“One more thing,” he muttered, leaning to your face as you turned. “If you’re going to kick Valentine beneath the desk, at least be less obvious next time. We don’t want people getting the wrong idea, hm?”

You smiled, muttering out something that was supposed to be a yes, sir, but was muffled by his lips before he let you go with the promise of dinner later.

Would this be a huge regret later in your life as you stare down the man that you had shared your body and your heart with as he revealed the truth about himself? Possibly, but how could you know who Albert Wesker was really working with?

How could you have known of his planned betrayal when his words and lips were so sweet?

[lilmoonbunny]

Misclick [2]; Chris Redfield

You accidentally liked your ex's comment and then 'accidentally' invited him to your house. What else is there to it? Accidents happen!

[Part 1]

Warnings: Slightly suggestive? Swearing, probably. Not proofread!

You didn’t know what to think.

Chris Redfield – your ex, the man who had broken your heart – was coming over to your apartment. Not only was he coming to your apartment, but he was coming at 5am after waking you up with messages about how he misses you.

Doubt clouded your mind, how could it not, and you foolishly allowed your mind to wander.

What if he was joking?

What if this was just to hook up?

What if he wasn’t going to come?

What if-

A knock on your door broke you from your hypotheticals and a small smile crawled onto your lips as you shook your head in amusement.

He still knocks the same way…

It was as though your body moved on impulse, mind empty, just sheer impulse… or perhaps an old habit. You didn’t think, just did, and before you knew it Chris, with pinkened cheeks and parted lips where quick yet quiet pants could be heard, was stood in front of you.

Chris who clearly hadn’t changed.

Not only had he not changed as a person, still the same man he was last year, but he also hadn’t changed from his night clothes and stood in front of you with his grey sweats hugging his lips and a loose navy t-shirt hanging jut above the waistband of said sweats.

“Did you… did you come straight here?” You asked, staring at him in shock, your own cheeks beginning to flush.

Chris smiled, a soft smile that had your mind reeling. “Of course I did,” he said. “How could I not when I knew you were here?”

Your gaze dropped to the ground, both your feet in your vision.

Chris’ shoes, one tied with so little effort that it was loose – not like him at all – and one completely undone, stood behind the line of your apartment, as though he didn’t want to push his luck. It was flattering, of course, Chris had always cared so much about your comfort. Even now, when it was clear just how much he wanted to be here, he still didn’t push your boundaries, fearing it would ruin everything.

With another small smile on your lips, you looked up at him and widened the door, inviting him into your apartment.

Chris paused for a moment, stared at you the next moment, swallowed, and then entered.

You had expected him to look around your apartment, having always been a curious man, but he didn’t. No, his eyes never left you, even when you turned your back to him to wander into your apartment.

“Do you want a drink?”  You offered, pointing towards the kitchen behind you, despite him already knowing where it was.

Chris wordlessly shook his head, watching as you nodded and took a seat on your couch and patiently waited for him to do the same.

He didn’t, though, he just… stood there, staring at the couch.

You had though Chris hadn’t changed, his knock and stance being the same, but neither had you.

You still sat on the same side of the couch that you had always preferred, still offered him a drink, and still fiddled with your clothes – currently a pair of shorts that reached just above your knee and a vest – when you were nervous.

“You can sit down,” your soft voice broke him from his reminiscence, “you do know that, right? I’m not just going to make you stand there.” You said with a giggle, and he didn’t attempt to suppress the smile that the noise brought him.

Chris knew he could sit down; you weren’t rude enough to make him stand, even after he had broken your heart under to guise of lack of time.

He had told you he had no time for you, said that work was more important and that he just couldn’t put you first. It was a lie, obviously. Chris Redfield, while he did devote his life to his job and saving the world, didn’t view you as less important. He loved you, still does, but being with him put you in danger, and Chris wasn’t sure that his heart could handle anything happening to you, so he left you. He left you crying on the exact same couch that you sat on now and filled with lies.

With a slight shake of his head to rid himself of the thoughts, he took a seat beside you.

At first, it was silent. Neither of you knew what to say or how to say what you did want to say once you figured it out, so you remained silent.

Minutes passed as you continued to pick at a loose thread on your shorts and began wondering if inviting him was a mistake.

Just as you were about to voice your concerns, Chris gulped and spoke.

“I never meant it,” he began, eyes widening as you looked at him with hurt. “No, not what I said tonight, I… Shit… Let me try that again.” He raised his hands with panic, clearly struggling to word his thoughts.

It took a few seconds, but he relaxed, slowly lowering his hands and moving them towards your own. You looked at him, full of confusion, but the moment you caught his gaze, you knew what he was asking.

He wanted to know if he could touch you.

You nodded, taking a shaky breath as his large hands engulfed your own, the heat from them warming your colder ones.

Maybe you should have changed into something warmer before he came, you thought to yourself.

“When I… When we broke up, I never meant what I said,” Chris spoke, thumb gently caressing your hand as he held your gaze. “You aren’t less important than my job… You never were…” One hand left yours and moved to lightly grasp your cheek. “I only said that because I was scared. I’m… not an easy man to be with, sweetheart, you know that.”

A small sigh left your lips as your free hand moved to rest atop of him on your cheek, nuzzling into the warmth.

“If I wanted easy, I wouldn’t have been with you, Chris… I love you, good and bad.” The confession was quiet, barely audible, but it hit him with such a force that you may as well have screamed it.

His eyes fluttered close for a moment, forehead reaching down to lightly rest against your own.

“You deserve better,” his shaking breath fanned across your lips as he spoke. “You deserve so much better.”

Your hand left the one that was holding his and reached up to caress his cheek, catching the stubble as you did so.

“You’re all I want., You’re all I ever wanted,”

Chris’ eyes shot open to see your own closed and he smiled to himself.

It came to him easy, kissing you, that is.

His eyes closed again as he leaned forward, placing a hesitant kiss on your lips for a second before pulling back. He wasn’t given long, no more than two seconds, before you pressed your own lips against his.

The hand that you had placed on his cheek moved to grasp the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as both his hands moved to your waist to drag you as close as he possibly could. Your lips moved with such familiarity that it was as though you had never been separated, his movements fluid and expected as he moved to lay you down against the leather of the couch, just as he always had done.

One of his hands moved from your waist to press beside your head, holding his weight from crushing you as he continued to kiss you; he had been starved from your touch for too long, he wasn’t about to stop now.

Or, he wasn’t planning to, at least, not until his hand slipped beneath your vest to caress your bare skin and he felt just how cold you were.

“You’re freezing,” he muttered against your lips, placing another gentle kiss against them.

You shrugged, looking up at him as you panted.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly given long to change into something warmer, was I?” There was no malice in your voice as you gave him a teasing smile that had him chuckling.

“No, I guess not.”

You watched as Chris lifted himself from above you, moving to stand. You were going to do the same, but the look he gave you kept you fixed in place with confusion.

“Then let’s get you back to the warmth of your bed then, yeah?” He didn’t wait for your answer before leaning down the lift you into his arms, your head pressing against his chest as you shrieked.

“Chris! Put me down!”

Chris simply laughed, pulling you tighter against him as he wandered to your room, the route all too familiar to him.

The softness of your mattress was a welcome one, as was the warmth that enveloped you as Chris pulled the duvet over you.

You watched him with a fond smile as he leaned over to press a soft kiss to your head before turning his back to you.

“Are you going to work now?” You asked with a tired edge in your voice, watching him as he stood at the end of your bed, facing the door.

He shook his head, turning away from the door and back to you.

“Of course not,” he said with such an offended expression on his face that you laughed. “I told you, work isn’t more important than you, didn’t I?”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“No buts. I am going to tell work I can’t come in and then you and I are going to lay here, watch those films we never got around to watching, and catch up, yeah?”

You smiled.

“I’d like that, Chris.”

Then he smiled.

“Good, because that’s the plan.”

You watched the confusion cross his face as he patted one pocket of his sweats, and then the shock as he patted the other.

“Are you… okay?” You asked, sitting up.

“Don’t laugh…” He began, before letting out a sigh. “I may have rushed here so fast that I forgot to pick up my phone.”

You tried not to laugh, you really did, but you couldn’t help it! The laughter burst out of your throat with such force that don’t think you could have held it back had you tried.

“I said don’t laugh!” Chris said, feigning annoyance as you continued to laugh. He wasn’t annoyed, of course, you would have known that even if you hadn’t seen the small content smile on his lips.

Your laughter slowed to a stop as you pointed towards your own device that sat on the dresser beside him, watching as he picked it up.

“What’s the passcode?” He asked, looking up from the screen to look at you.

Your cheeks darkened as you looked away, and that gave Chris all the information he needed as he typed his birthday into the prompt before being granted full access to your phone.

“I forget things easily, okay!? Don’t laugh at me!”  You said, tossing a pillow at his face which he easily caught with one hand as he laughed.

“I know,” he chuckled, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He said, lifting the phone to his ear as he left the room, some fake excuse leaving his lips as he told someone who can’t come to work today.

You smiled to yourself as you stared at the slightly ajar door, watching Chris lie to the man on the other end of the phone. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you make any attempt to, you just wanted to admire the man that you loved so dearly and who loved you with the same ferocity back.

It didn’t take him long to return, passing you your phone with a nod.

“I’m all yours,” he said. “Movies still in the same place?”

You nodded, watching as he left to grab the movies that you two had sworn to watch before you had broken up.

You chuckled to yourself quietly, only for your phone to catch your attention as it lit up with a text from your landlord’s daughter, someone you considered a dear friend.

Lacy said: You didn’t tell me you and Chris were back together?

Before you could move past your confusion and reply, she messaged again.

Lacy said: Dad said he saw him ran up eight flights of stairs to your apartment on the CCTV. Does he not know that we got the elevator fixed?

Lacy said: Anyway, I’ll show you the video later (it’s good) but have fun (;

[lilmoonbunny]

Misclick; Chris Redfield

When you accidentally like your ex's reply to your post from last year, you don't think he'll even notice, let alone message you about it.

[Part 2]

I accidentally liked my ex's comment on my post from during our relationship. This is the result.

Warnings: Not proofread and a lot of swearing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The words tumbled freely from your mouth before your brain could fully comprehend what you had just done. “Oh, what the fuck. Who developed this app!?” Cursing seemed the best decision amidst your panic as you rushed to unlike the reply that you had accidentally clicked when the app – that Goddamn piece of shit app – decided to bug out while you were scrolling and left you liking a reply to one of your posts from last year… a reply from your ex, to be precise.

If you were to be more honest, you’d say it was a reply from your ex who you are still hopelessly in love with months after breaking up. You definitely weren’t reading the replies to your post where he was saying how much he loves you, no, absolutely not. Why would you be doing that? You’re over him, after all, at least that’s what you tell your friends, and sometimes even yourself. How could you deny the truth, though?

All those nights since the breakup spent scrolling through old messages, old pictures, old posts and the days spent stalking his social media, that isn’t how someone who is over their ex would act. How could you tell anyone this, I mean, you literally couldn’t. All your friends hate the guy for how he hurt you, but you hurt him too, no relationship is ever perfect.

“Maybe he won’t even see it. Maybe he doesn’t have his notifications on!” Wishful thinking, obviously, but you were hoping that you could will it into existence. “Yeah, this is fine! He won’t even see it!”

Ding.

.

..

…?

Chris Redfield said: Did you mean to like that?

For fuck’s sake.

Chris Redfield is typing…

He’s typing.

Why is he typing?

Chris never double texted?

Chris Redfield said: Why are you even awake? Everything all right?

What the fuck…?

Chris Redfield is typing…

Why is he typing again!?

Chris Redfield said: Sorry, I shouldn’t have messaged. I just saw the notification and got hopeful, worried, or whatever. I don’t know. Forget about it. Hope you’re well.

Your fingers moved across the keyboard quicker than they ever had before.

You said: Accident, sorry. I am fine, just cannot sleep. You can message, it’s fine. Sorry to worry you. Just an accident.

His reply was quick, something unusual for him.

Chris Redfield said: It’s all right. Are you sure you’re fine, though? I mean, you only lengthen your I’m and can’t when you’re lying.

Chris Redfield: Used to* Sorry.

Of course he remembered that.

You had always lengthened your words when you were trying not to worry him. Why did he have to remember that.

You said: Don’t worry about it! : )

Chris Redfield said: Of course I’m going to worry about it. Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I don’t still care for you, sweetheart.

Your heart stopped.

Sweetheart…?

You had always loved that name, especially in his voice. Did he miss you like you misse-

Chris Redfield said: Y/N* Sorry, force of habit.

Oh.

Yeah, no, obviously!

You said: No worries!

God, how you wanted to crawl into a hole and just never come out again. The conversation is so awkward that it’s painful.

You said: Well, I should get some sleep. You should too, Chris! Goodnight! : )

Chris Redfield: You’re right. Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well. Glad to see you’re doing well.

Doing well? God, he clearly had no clue just how badly you were doing. This breakup was most likely the hardest thing that you had ever been through. No reason to tell him that, just got to move on, and no more looking; you don’t want another incident like this.

So, rather than telling him the truth, you simply gave his message a quick reaction and headed to sleep.

Buzz.

?

Buzz.

??

Buzz.

Buzz.

The repeated vibration of your phone was what awoke you not long after falling asleep.

Drowsily reaching for your phone, you let out an annoyed groan.

Buzz.

Okay you thought,, what is going on…?

Five new messages from Chris Redfield

What?

Why is Chris messaging you?

Better yet, why is Chris messaging you five times…? He hardly ever messaged twice during your relationship.

Chris Redfield said: I lied.

Chris Redfield said: As selfish as it is, I’m not glad you’re doing well. In fact, I wish you weren’t.

“Ouch, what…?” You murmured as you continued to read, despite the hurt in your chest.

Chris Redfield said: I wish you were as hurt as I was. I wish you still cared for me and were still in my life. I wish we hadn’t ended things. And I wish you had liked that post because you want me back like I want you back.

Chris Redfield said: I’m not good at this, but fuck. I don’t even know… Chris Redfield said: I miss you. A lot.

Confusion was all that you felt.

He wants you back…?

Chris Redfield? The same man who had told you that you two couldn’t be together because of his job? He still cares? Still wishes that you were in his life?

Chris Redfield is typing…

Chris Redfield said: I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said all that.

You said: I miss you too, Chris.

You watched as he opened the message, heart racing as your palms began to gather sweat.

Seen one minute ago. Seen two minutes ago. Seen five minutes ago.

Oh…

Seen eight minutes ago.

Just as you were about to click off the chat, delete your account, and never come out of your apartment again, you saw it.

Chris Redfield is typing…

You stared.

And stared.

And stared.

Seven minutes passed of him typing, stopping, then typing again, before he just stopped altogether.

A sigh left your lips when he didn’t start typing again and you hovered over the exit DM button, tears in your eyes, when another notification popped up.

      Incoming Call: Chris R

While you had been broken up for quite a few months now, you had never actually deleted his number. You had only changed the contact numbers name.

Shaking fingers hit the answer button and as you lifted the device to your ear, you heard nothing.

Silence.

.

..

…

A shaky inhale.

“Y/N…?”

You swallowed, harsh enough that you imagined that he could have heard it.

“Chris…”

He paused.

“I’m glad you didn’t change your number, at least. That could have been awkward.”

You laughed, and while it was the tiniest laugh, Chris smiled to himself.

God, he missed you.

The sound of him clearing his throat crackled through your phone.

“How… how are you?” He asked.

A deep inhale was heard from you before you responded.

“It’s 4:30 in the morning and I’m on call with my ex.” You said, desperately attempting to hold yourself together. “I don’t even know anymore. How are you?”

“Awful.” Came his instant reply. “I miss you, sweetheart. I meant what I said, well, not that I wish you were doing badly but the whole thing about how I want you to mi-“

“I know what you mean, Chris.” You cut his anxious rambling off before he could begin spiralling. “I miss you too. All the time.”

“You do…?”

You nodded, despite him being unable to see you.

“I really do. There’s a reason I was looking at replies where you said you love me. I miss you being in love with me.”

“I am still in love with you!” His words were rushed, clearly accidental judging by the silence that fell until he cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was… probably too much.” An awkward chuckle from his end.

“…I love you too.” You whispered.

The lack of response was worrying. What if he hadn’t heard you? You couldn’t possibly say it again! But what if he thinks you were ignoring him!? Oh no, you’ve fucked it all up! God, you wanted to screa-

“Can we… Can I see you?” He paused. “Please…”

You hesitated.

If you said yes, everything would change, and if this didn’t end how you wanted it to, you’d be back to stage one.

…What’s life without a little risk?

“You can…”

You heard Chris’ awfully loud bed creak beneath him, presumably having sat up.

“Great!” You could hear his smile as he spoke, along with some… other… background noise. “Are you still at the same place?”

“Well, yeah, why?”

“I’m coming over!”

“Chris!? What!? It’s nearly 5am? You’ll be working in a few hours!?”

Surely there was no way he was going to come over right now!? That would be silly! He’ll be working and busy and then he’ll be tired all day and-

“I don’t care. I’ll call in sick or go to work tired, I don’t care, sweetheart. I need to see you. Haven’t seen you in person since I brought you your things, only seen pictures of you. I can’t not come.”

You simply shook your head in both amusement and happiness.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

You heard a set of keys jangle, shortly followed by a door closing.

“Good. See you soon, sweetheart.”

[Part 2]

[lilmoonbunny]

Feelings; OPLA!Zoro

Being friends with Zoro was hard, speaking about feelings with him would be even harder, so you won't do it. At least, you didn't plan to until you were exposed.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drunk!reader, not proofread.

For as long as you had been with the crew, you and Zoro had been… friends? You chose to call it that, at least; whether he would say the same was up for debate.

It wasn’t that the pair of you were exactly close, you never spoke about feelings or anything, but then again, did Zoro speak about his feelings with anyone…? Unlikely. Despite how he was willing to do anything to protect his Captain and his crew, talking about how he felt was the last thing he would ever do, if he even would.

Zoro’s reluctance to speak about his feelings – and yours – came as a benefit for you, though. The moment you had begun developing feeling for Zoro had been the day you became eternally grateful to whoever had cursed him with the inability to talk because it meant one thing: you would surely never be exposed for how you feel towards him. Unfortunately for you, though, not everyone was as unwilling as the swordsman.

“As much as I dislike the mosshead, I think you should tell him,” the ships cook spoke as he effortlessly chopped vegetables. “I mean, what could go wrong? He surely feels the same way.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, favouring to instead be logical.

“Yeah, surely not. Surely, he doesn’t tell me he doesn’t see me the same way and I make things awkward for the whole crew.” You huffed, passing Sanji the next vegetable from the pile to which he nodded as a thanks.

You heard him hum, shaking his head in disagreement but didn’t say anything else on the matter, thankfully, instead changing the conversation to the meal he was currently preparing.

The next time you saw Zoro after your conversation with Sanji was when you were about to leave the ship.

The crew needed some supplies so Luffy had decided that you would dock at the next island and gather what you need, maybe even stay for a little while if the place was nice enough. However, as much as you wanted to avoid Zoro for a little while to mope about your unrequited feelings, he clearly had other ideas.

“Drink?” He asked, catching your attention immediately.

You nodded in agreement, never one to turn down a drink, least of all with him, and watched as he returned the gesture before leaving the ship with you hot on his trail.

The bar itself was nice and, much to Zoro’s satisfaction, uncrowded.

You both favoured sitting in a booth in the corner of the room, avoiding any unwanted attention from Marines or anyone who may recognise you and turn you into said Marines. It was dimly lit and small, but it suited you both fine.

Zoro pushed your drink towards you, one which you gladly took a quick gulp from, feeling more nervous than usual for some reason. Whether it was because you were alone with Zoro or the way he was looking at you as though he was trying to read you, you didn’t entirely know, but you did know that you needed a drink if you were going to survive this situation in one piece.

“So,” the green-haired man spoke, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his own drink, “want to tell me why you won’t even look at me recently?” His question made you freeze, never having expected Zoro to talk about anything to do with feelings.

Rather than answer the question – which you would never do, God forbid you confess – you decided changing the subject would be the best course of action.

“Roronoa Zoro talking about difficult subjects that involve feelings? What has the world come to?” You joke with a smile, quickly swallowing more of the liquid that burnt your throat.

Zoro shook his head and having noticed your desperate attempt at changing the subject, he let the topic go, because at least you would look at him now that you were sat together.

“I’m not that bad with feelings,”

You chuckled, shaking your head before replying.

“I find that hard to believe. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about feelings in the time that I’ve known you.”

Zoro simply rolled his eyes, taking another sip from his glass.

“Just because I don’t doesn’t mean that I can’t,” he said, leaving you confused. “Maybe I just don’t want to, but I can do it.”

You paused for a moment, considering his words.

“You know to get close to people, you have to let them in, right?”

“Well, we’re close, aren’t we? And we’ve never had a conversation about feelings.”

His words made you freeze.

“You think we’re close?” You asked in shock.

Zoro raised an eyebrow at you.

“Am I wrong?”

You quickly shook your head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

“No, of course you’re not, I just…” You pause, carefully choosing your next words. “I just didn’t think you thought that too.”

Zoro glanced at you for a moment before turning his attention to his drink, taking a gulp before answering.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked, to which you simply shrugged, drinking as you both fell into silence.

“Another?” You asked, changing the topic again as you pointed towards his empty glass, not waiting for a reply before you left the booth to head to the bar.

You weren’t sure how many drinks you had both had, but you did know one thing: you were very drunk and Zoro was not. How he was still sober was beyond you, but it impressed you, nonetheless.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Zoro said with an amused smirk as he sat beside you this time, not trusting you to be steady enough to sit or stand.

You gasped dramatically, looking up at him with an amused smile, watching as his smirk turned into a soft smile, at least until you hit him in the chest.

“Rude,” he said, shaking his head, unaffected by your smack.

“I’m not that drunk,”

“Y/N, you’re slurring your words, and you can’t even sit still, you are definitely drunk,”

Your gaze landed on Zoro’s lips as his tongue wet them before he took a sip from his glass. Without thinking, your hand shot out to grab the half-empty glass from his hand before it hit the table and drank the rest of the liquid in one mouthful, giving Zoro a satisfied smirk as you finished.

In your drunken haze, you missed the way his own gaze fell to your smirk, his breath hitching ever-so-slightly as you looked up at him.

It wasn’t long until the effects of downing the last of the drink hit you and your vision began spinning, head pounding. Scrunching your eyes, you moved to lean on Zoro’s shoulder, hoping that it would stop whatever had suddenly hit you.

“You okay?” He asked, voice full of concern as he looked down at you, a light pink dusting his cheeks at the contact, the contact that you had yet to register.

You wordlessly nodded, eyes still shut as you enjoyed the comfort and warmth that his body provided.

His gaze didn’t leave you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him.

“Stay there for as long as you need. I’ve got you.”

Neither of you were entirely sure how much time had passed, the comfortable silence and physical contact something that you both welcomed. In fact, perhaps neither of you would have moved until closing had it not been for Sanji and Luffy approaching, sitting opposite you.

“Oh,” Sanji began as he took in the scene before him.

You hummed, wondering what he was about to say.

“You finally told mosshead your feelings then?”

Your eyes shot open at his words, suddenly more sober than you ever had been in your life. Body tensed, you didn’t dare glance at Zoro who had also stiffened beside you. You weren’t able to rescue the situation as Luffy spoke before you.

“Y/N has feelings for Zoro? What type of feelings?” Your captain asked.

“None! Just friendly! I just see him as a friend!” You screeched, cheeks a dark pink at Sanij’s accidental exposure.

Sanji, who clearly felt guilty at doing so, took a deep breath.

“Yeah, sorry, I got confused.” The chef said, clearly trying to help you salvage the situation as he glanced at a seemingly shocked Zoro.

His body was tense – you could feel it beneath you, neither of you having moved despite the situation – and his lips were parted, eyes wide. Thankfully, for your own sake, you couldn’t see his facial expression or how he took a deep breath and swallowed harshly.

“So, drinks?”

You weren’t sure what had happened after Sanji offering you all more drinks, but you were sure that you had a terrible headache and a lot of embarrassment. In fact, had there not been a knock at your door – one you were sure was from Sanji – you most likely would not have left your room the whole day, or maybe ever.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Sanji coming to apologise but rather Zoro who wore a serious expression.

“Hey,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze, “can we talk?”

Without a word, you widened the door to allow him to enter.

The pair of you stood in silence for a moment, neither daring to move or even breathe.

“What’s up?” You asked, forcing yourself to appear casual and unbothered.

Zoro audibly swallowed before replying. “About what that cook said…”

You quickly shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing; not a big deal.”

“It might not be a big deal to you,” he said, “but it is to me. If it’s true, that is.”

Your gaze, previously focused on the wooden planks beneath you, shot up to Zoro who was staring directly at you.

“It is true,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, Zoro.”

Zoro’s eyebrow shot up.

“Why are you sorry?”

You shrugged. “Things are going to be different between us now. Awkward.”

“Why?”

“Well I- you know…”

Zoro paused for a moment then chuckled, taking a step forward.

“I like you too, idiot,”

Now it was your turn for your eyebrows to shoot up in questioning.

“You do?”

With a shake of his head, he chuckled again.

“Of course I do,”

His hands reached up to gently hold your blushing cheeks, keeping your face angled towards him so you couldn’t look elsewhere.

“I know I may not be the most… expressive guy, but I would do anything for you and anything to keep you happy and safe. I love you, I have for a while.” He confessed, holding your gaze with blushing cheeks.

“I love you too,” you mumbled, burning of your cheeks worsening. “But wow, Zoro, you were right.”

“About what?”

“You can talk about feelings…”

[lilmoonbunny]

Gloves; Goro Majima

You have a thing for Majima's hands and he's noticed.

Warnings: NSFW (porn without plot), fingering, the gloves stay on, finger-sucking, Majima calls you doll like every other sentence, kind of possessive!Majima, hints of jealousy, not proofread.

“I see the way you look at my hands, doll,” Majima stared down at you, lips pulled into an amused yet lustful smirk.

You watched his hand intently as he reached up and ran a gloved finger across your lower lip, listening to the satisfied hum he let out as you instantly parted your lips at his touch. Your eyes held his stare as you opened your mouth, allowing him to place his digit inside your mouth, much to your satisfaction.

Your lips closed around his finger, still holding his gaze as you began sucking on his thumb, tongue circling the leather pulling another hum from him. His eye remained trained on you as he stepped closer, free hand grasping your jaw to hold you still as he pressed this thumb further into your mouth.

Majima’s thumb muffled the satisfied hum you attempted to let out, but he felt the vibration and his smirk grew wider, his pupil visibly dilating, be it with lust or love, you didn’t know.

“Guess I’m just giving you what you want, huh?” He muttered, allowing you a few more sucks at his thumb before he pulled his thumb from your mouth, chuckling at the disappointed look you gave him. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ll give you what you want.”

Your eyes fell from his to his damp glove, catching sight of his hardness as you did so.

“Eyes on me,” his tone was filled with lust as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but obey his order. “Open.”

Your mouth opened before you fully registered his words, and two fingers landed on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he hummed with amusement as he watched you instantly begin sucking.

The grip he had on your jaw tightened as he pressed your body against the wall, shaking his head as you reached down to grab at his bulge.

“Nah, not right now.” Majima said, hand dropping from your jaw to grab and your wrist, pinning it beside your head.

The wetness that pooled beneath your thighs was almost concerning considering that he hadn’t technically touched you yet, but he was right; you could never stop yourself staring at his gloved hands.

“Think that’ll be good enough,” he said, pulling his fingers back with an amused look in his eye and releasing your wrist.

You watched his movements closely, enjoying the way the leather of his gloves creased as he slipped his hand between your legs, thumb rubbing circles at your clit as his wet fingers teased your entrance.

“Majima,” you moaned, voice breathless and filled with need.

“What is it, doll?” He chuckled while continuing to tease.

“Don’t tease,” you pleaded, glancing up into his eye for a moment, hoping it would help.

He shook his head, an amused twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know. I mean, for all the teasing ya been doing to me the last few weeks, I’m not sure I should give ya it at all. Ya don’t know how badly I wanted to bend you over the table when I saw ya in that short skirt, doll.” He whistled. “Hot as it was, couldn’t stand the way other men were lookin’ at ya.”

You whined as his gloved fingers continued to tease your folds, sliding in the tiniest bit before retreating.

“’m sorry,” you whimpered, grinding yourself against his fingers. “Won’t do it again, swear.”

He hummed, seemingly in thought for a moment before he replied.

“Ya better not, y’know why?” He asked, leaning down to your ear, nibbling on the skin. “Cause you’re mine.” He muttered in a way that left no room for discussion, not that you could have replied had you wanted to since he chose that moment to shove his fingers inside you, pulling a loud moan from your lips.

Pulling away from your ear, Majima stared at you in satisfaction, watching as your eyes scrunched shut and your teeth caught your lower lip. He reached up to tuck a few stray stands of hair away from your face, eager for a full view of every expression you gave him as he worked you towards your orgasm.

His fingers continued their movements, the fabric of his gloves providing pleasure you had never expected, not even in your fantasises, and you bit your lip harder to try muffle the noises threatening to leave you.

“None of that,” Majima said, using his other hand to stop you. “I wan’a hear ya as you cum all over my fingers.”

Your eyes shot open at his words, revealing his gaze focused solely on your face, soaking in everything you were offering. He offered you a lopsided grin and raised his eyebrow in a way that almost dared you to disobey him. You didn’t, maybe one day you would, but not when you were so close to reaching your high.

Moans fell from your lips as your eyes fluttered shut again. Majima could feel your walls tightening around him, only encouraging him to help you find your release.

“Aw, are ya close?” His teasing words were followed by a chuckle. “C’mon then, doll, cum f’me.” Was all you needed as you felt the coil in your stomach snap, your juice leaking down his gloves and onto his skin.

Your body slumped forward from the strength of your orgasm, head hitting Majima’s strong body as he slowed his movements. You could feel his heart racing as though he had just came himself, and you wondered if it was beating faster than your own.

His fingers stilled inside you for a few moments, allowing you to rest against him and catch your breath.

Once he was satisfied you would be able to stand without passing out, he caught your attention. His eye watched as you moved from him, shyly looking up at him as he pulled his fingers from you, bringing the cum-covered glove to your face.

“Open up, doll,” he said, smirking again as you obliged and began sucking, cleaning his gloves with your mouth, enjoying the satisfied noise that left him once you were done. “Aren’t ‘cha good to me, doll? Y’betta’ not have anyone else seein’ ya like this, ‘ey?”

You shook your head in disagreement.

“Only you,” you smiled sweetly, blush dusting your already pink cheeks.

“Betta’ be,” he said, “or I’ll be showing them just who ya belong to.”

[lilmoonbunny]

Just the tip; Best friend!Hwang Jun-ho

A little harmless sex between best friends couldn't ruin anything, right?

Warnings: Unprotected sex. cumming inside (it is more than just the tip but shh), best friends have sex, virgin!Jun-ho.

You had no idea how this had happened.

One moment you had been chatting with your childhood best friend and the next he was on top of you, erection pressing into your bare thigh as he lifted your skirt. His eyes were pleading, the words leaving his mouth begging.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Just the tip. It won’t ruin our friendship.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing up to see Jun-ho’s lust-filled gaze focused solely on you. You want to, God, you wanted to so bad, but you were worried. He moved his hips slightly, his hard cock brushing against you in a way that had him groaning.

“Shit,” he groaned, hands balled into fists besides your head. “I need you. Need you to be my first, fuck.”

You knew he was a virgin, well, assumed considering you told each other everything and he had never mentioned losing his virginity in the years that you had been best friends.

You nodded, letting out a shaking breath. “Just the tip.” You told him and he grinned.

“Thank you, thank you!” He said, hand moving down to undo his belt, a satisfied breath leaving his lips as he freed himself. “Just the tip, just the tip.” His words were murmured. tone laced with lust as he looked down at you.

Jun-ho’s shaking hands landed on your thighs, caressing the skin. He could see the wet patch on your underwear as he flipped your skirt up, too excited to even bother removing it. Your hands landed on his cock, enjoying the way that his eyes slammed shut at the sensation, a quiet shit leaving his lips.

“I’ll go really slow, baby, okay?”

Oh.

He had never called you that before and you couldn’t deny the fluttering inside you at the term, Wordlessly, you nodded, pressing yourself against him and grinding.

Jun-ho’s cheeks flushed, eyes snapping open to look at you, a cheeky smile on your lips which he gladly returned, letting out a long breath to compose himself.

“Just the tip,” he whispered to you as he lined himself up at your entrance, bare cock teasing your folds, gathering slick. You were wet enough, thankfully.

Your hand reached up to his cheek, guiding his gaze from your entrance to look at you. You gave him a reassuring smile, nodding.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Jun-ho. I promise.”

He held your gaze, blinking for a moment, then nodded.

“Are you ready?” He asked, voice deep and you nodded. “Okay, okay.” He whispered.

A quiet moan fell from his lips as he pressed into you, just the tip. Your eyes fluttered shut, one hand tangling itself in his hair and you had to force yourself not to move.

“You okay, Jun-ho?” You exhaled, unaware of the way he shook with restraint, his eyes focusing on your parted lips, watching as your tongue ran across.

You felt him move forward, dick slipping further into you as he rested his face against your neck and nodded. With his body resting against you, you could feel how tense he was.

“Relax,” you whispered, caressing his hair. “It’s okay.”

Jun-ho swallowed. “Just a little more is fine, right?” He murmured into you, his lips moving against your neck as he spoke.

You nodded slightly, both of you gasping as he sunk a little further into your heat.

“Just halfway,” he was struggling, you could feel it in how tense he was and hear it in his tone.

His hands shook as he stilled, palms running up your thighs and slipping beneath your untucked shirt.

“This is okay, yeah?” He asked, hands slipping beneath your bra when you moaned. His fingers toyed with your hardened buds, calloused fingers teasing.

“Shit, Jun-ho,” you gasped, your back arching slightly, body moving and providing you both with friction.

A shaky moan left his lips at the sensation. It was all so overwhelming.

“I’m not moving,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your neck. You weren’t sure if he was telling you or trying to convince himself.

You wanted him to move, but you had both agreed that it would just be the tip; even if that was already ruined by how he was half in you by now.

“It’s fine,” he groaned. “It’s fine.”

You felt him throb inside you, your walls tightening at the sensation and he couldn’t help but move a tiny bit, biting his lip to try and stifle his moan but to no avail. Your hand in his hair pulled him up and he looked into your now open eyes.

His shaking hand grasped your cheek, forehead resting against your own.

“Jun-ho,” you whispered.

He moved slightly.

“What is it, baby?”

You hesitated, worried your request would ruin your friendship.

“Please kiss me,”

His eyes widened but he didn’t say anything before pressing his lips against yours. His inexperience was evident, but you assumed so was yours. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and teeth clashed as you both moved.

His free hand landed on the side of your neck, thumb caressing the skin as you tugged on his hair. His hips bucked slightly, a wet noise sounding through the room as you moaned.

“Feels good?” He panted against your lips, and you nodded eagerly.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, fingers caressing your cheek.

“Good,” he moaned as he slipped further inside.

Just the tip.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, the hand on your neck now fisting the sheets beneath you.

Everything about him was shaking: his hands, his breath, everything.

He hips moved back slightly, his eyes closing as he did so, and for a moment you worried that was it, at least until he pushed back into you a tiny bit deeper this time.

“Jun-ho,” you moaned his name in a way that almost had his restraint gone.

Just the tip, he reminded himself, even if you were past that.

He looked at you, your eyes shut in pleasure and lips parted, moaning out his name, both of your spits dripping down your face. He couldn’t help himself anymore and slowly pushed all the way into you with a loud moan,

Your eyes snapped open, pupils dilated.

“Shit,” he groaned, feeling your walls tighten around him. “I know we said just the tip, but ah-fuck. I’m sorry, baby.” He thrusted slowly, and you watched him as he swallowed.

“You don’t seem very sorry,” your words were teasing yet he shuddered, quietly moaning as he continued thrusting.

“Couldn’t, ah, help myself, shit.”

He pressed his face into your neck again, nipping at the skin.

You were glad that your roommate was out since he could not keep quiet. Loud moans left his lips, vibrating the skin of your neck as he thrusted. His moans turned to whimpers the longer he moved.

“You feel so good, baby, shit.” His thrusting became quicker, barely noticeable. “Like you were made for me. Made to take my cock.”

You had no idea where his sudden dirtiness had come from, yet you couldn’t deny the effect it had on you as you moaned, tugging on his hair.

“Jun-ho, ah, shit, please,” you begged, too shy to tell him what you wanted.

He stilled inside you for a moment, pulling away with one final kiss to look at you with a teasing grin.

“What is it, baby? What do you want?”

“I-Please, faster.” You begged. His eyes widened a fraction before his hips began moving again.

His lips slammed against yours, hand coming to play with your clit, rubbing circles.

You weren’t sure who had moaned into the kiss as your hands landed on his shoulders, tugging him closer against you and moved yourself.

“Oh my God,” Jun-ho moaned. “You’re so tight, baby. I-shit- needed you so bad. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

You weren’t given chance to think on his honest words before he sped up again, both of you moaning as the sound of skin slapping filled the room again.

“Fuck, baby, I’m ah gon’ cum if we don’t slow down.” He moaned, trying to pace himself. His eyes widened as you began fucking yourself back onto him. His hands landed on your hips, yet he felt powerless to stop you once he saw the pleasure on your face, his hips beginning to snap even faster as he moaned. “Shit.” He groaned, your legs wrapping around him to try and pull him faster. “Baby, I fuck, I can’t ah pull out if you do that.”

You didn’t hesitate before speaking. “Inside, Jun-ho, please. I need you to fill me. Make me yours.”

With those words, the last of his sense left him and he fucked into you like a mad-man, finger on your clit speeding up, desperate to feel you cum on his cock.

Your moans were quicker now, coming out more and more breathlessly as you neared your high. Your fingers could never make you feel like this, Jun-ho’s thick cock stretching you.

“Jun-ho I-“you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence before your back arched, eyes scrunching in pleasure as the coil in your stomach snapped.

Jun-ho felt your walls tighten on his cock, pushing him to his own release as he pushed into you one final time, cum filling you as he moaned out a simple fuck.

You both lay there for a moment, hearts racing, eyes avoiding each other. Once he softened, he pulled out with a hiss, glancing down at himself to see your cum covering him.

“Y/N?” He whispered, eyes moving from his cock to your form; it was clear you had something on your mind, and he felt guilty, wondering if it was what had just happened. “What is it?”

“Did you mean what you said?”

Confusion showed in his eyes. “What?”

“About how long you’ve wanted this, wanted me.”

Jun-ho swallowed, nodding hesitantly as he sat up, avoiding your gaze. “Let me just-let me get a cloth, clean you up, and then we will talk about it, I promise.”

[lilmoonbunny]

Protect her; Hwang In-Ho

SEASON 2 AND 3 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!

When the frontman calls Gi-Hun to meet him, he only has one request for him: to protect you. Gi-Hun is determined to keep that promise, no matter what.

Warnings: Character death, violence, canon-divergent, and unedited (for now).

When Young-Il died, it felt like a part of you had died with him, even if you had only known him a few days. The two of you had bonded quickly, becoming fast friends with a hint of… something more.

Young-Il always stuck by you, protecting you both during the games and during the night, watching over you while you slept, even if you weren’t aware of it. Even when he wasn’t there, he watched over you; keeping a close eye on you from his quarters, making sure that the guards gave you extra food, and ensuring that there was no more risk of fights after lights out since he was not there to protect you.

You swallowed, glancing over at Gi-Hun. You knew of what had happened, you had helped during the rebellion, much to Young-Il’s dismay. You had no idea why the guard kept you alive, why the other guard had told your potential shooter to stand down. You watched as they dragged a grief-stricken Gi-Hun into the player’s quarters, tears falling down your cheeks at both the look on his face, and the fact that Young-Il was gone, never to return.

Gi-Hun was someone that you considered a friend and seeing him like this, it hurt. You could feel the guilt inside radiating from him. It wasn’t his fault; you couldn’t blame him. No, you wouldn’t blame him. Gi-Hun had tried, and that was more that could be said for others.

The beep of the doors opening, revealing the guards, pulled your gaze and you watched in confusion as Gi-Hun approached you, handing Jun-Hee’s newborn to you before following the guards away from the room.

What was going on?

Gi-Hun stood in front of the frontman, glaring at him. The weight of the guilt was evident in the way he held himself, but Gi-Hun didn’t notice this, too focused on revenge.

“Take a seat, Mr Seong Gi-Hun. This may take a while.” In-Ho swallowed, doing the best he could to mentally prepare himself.

Gi-Hun nodded hesitantly, taking a seat opposite of his enemy.

Gi-Hun watched as the frontman pulled something from his pocket, placing it on the table between them.

“Take this,” he said, his mask deceiving Gi-Hun of his true identity, hiding his voice, but not for long.

“Why? Why are you helping me? Who are you?”

In-Ho glanced at his former comrade and with shaking hands removed his mask, the guilt weighing even heavier as he noticed the betrayed look on Gi-Hun’s face. No matter how hard Gi-Hun tried to hide his reaction, his eyes betrayed him.

“I am sorry about Jung-Bae, Mr Seong Gi-Hun.”

In-Ho didn’t flinch, didn’t even move as Gi-Hun grabbed the knife, standing and pointing it towards his betrayer.

“You can kill me, there is nobody around to help, but that won’t stop the games. They will just find another frontman and the game will continue tomorrow.” In-Ho said, staring into Gi-Hun’s eyes, rather than the knife pointed towards him. “But that, that can save you. You can go back there, kill those who want to kill you, and win the games.”

“Why?” Came Gi-Hun’s simple response, lowering the knife. “Why would you go to this extent?”

In-Ho paused before speaking.

“I need you to promise me something. If you are to take that knife, there is one thing that I need you to promise me. If not for me, then for her.”

A confused look bloomed over Gi-Hun’s face at his words.

“Her?”

“Keep Y/N safe…” He said, pausing for a moment. “Please…” His plea fell into a whisper, barely audible in the room.

The confused look on his face worsened as Gi-Hun spoke.

“Y/N? Why?” He asked.

In-Ho broke eye contact with the player for a moment, and that was enough to reveal everything.

Gi-Hun’s mouth parted in shock. “You care for her…”

In-Ho swallowed, hesitation evident on his unmasked face before he nodded.

Gi-Hun nodded, a silent promise to In-Ho as he grabbed the blade and turned to leave.

“And, Gi-Hun,” In-Ho called, waiting until he paused. “I am sorry. For everything.”

No response.

Gi-Hun watched over you, the baby clutched tightly to your chest, as you slept. The blade felt heavy between his fingers, the weight of the decision heavy on his mind. It was logical, he should kill them and save the baby, himself, and you, but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, even as he held the blade up to Player 100’s neck. No, he wasn’t that type of person.

“Are you okay, Gi-Hun?” You murmured upon Gi-Hun’s return.

Gi-Hun nodded, hands shaking as he hid the blade in the back of his suit. “I’m fine, Y/N. Get some more rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.”

You agreed, hugging the child tighter to your chest.

“Good night, Gi-hun, get some rest too.”

Gi-Hun already felt guilty for not telling you that you had a guardian angel, and just who that guardian angel was.

You watched in horror as the group of men attempted to push Gi-Hun and the child from the extreme height. You were beside them, doing your best attempt to hold them off, but to no avail.

As the man held Gi-Hun in a tight grasp, both almost falling from the ledge, you spotted it: the glint of a blade. Without hesitation, you grabbed at it, unsheathing it and pushing yourself towards the man, slicing at the jacket that held him in place before using your full body weight to toss the man off the edge, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as you heard the man scream and hit the floor below.

Your foot slipped, body weight preparing to topple over and follow the man to your death, only to be caught last moment by a tight hand: Gi-Hun’s.

You nodded as a thanks as a shaking breath left you. You didn’t have time to thank him properly as the rest of the men were approaching you three. Gi-Hun, who previously stood behind you, was quick to slip the baby into your hands, standing in front of you.

“Gi-Hun?” You asked. “What are you doing? You promised Jun-Hee you would keep her child safe!”

Gi-Hun paused. You were right, but he made another promise, and he intended to keep it; to keep them both.

“I promised him I would keep you safe too.” Were his only words and you weren’t given a chance to ask who exactly him was before player 333 caught your attention, sneaking behind the men, pole in hand.

You couldn’t tell what he was attempting to do, so you held the baby tighter, forcing your heels into the ground as hard as you could. It wasn’t until he hit the remaining guys with the pole, pushing them off the edge that you understood.

One hesitant step towards 333 from Gi-Hun had him spinning towards you both, Gi-Hun immediately pressing you backwards, keeping you away from the man in front of you. He swore he would protect you, and he intended to keep that promise, even if it cost him his life.

“Why did you do that?” Gi-Hun asked, his hand in front of him to let him know that he wasn’t intending to hurt him, not yet, at least; unless he had to.

“I’m the child’s father.”

“Now it’s down to four,” a VIP said, a satisfied smile on his lips.

In-Ho could only hope that Gi-Hun would keep his promise.

You stood back, baby in hand as Gi-Hun fought with player 333, at a clear disadvantage. The knife was still in your hand, and you knew what you had to do.

In-Ho watched as you placed the child on the ground, whispering something to her as you did so.

Your footsteps were silent as you approached the fighting pair. 333 had Gi-Hun pinned down, throwing punches at his face, the pipe having fallen over the edge. You could hear Gi-Hun’s groans as he took them, body weakening from the pain.

A deep breath, that was all it took for you to find the courage to shove the blade into Myung-Gi’s neck, his eyes widening as you did so. Blood immediately began running from his mouth as he fell to the ground.

He was dead.

Your eyes widened, breath laboured and eyes wide as the shock set in. You had just killed two people in less than thirty minutes…

“Y/N…” Gi-Hun panted, sitting up.

His eyes darted between your shaking and bloodied hands and the cooling body on the ground. It was then he noticed something: none of you had pressed the start button.

Your eyes followed his gaze, landing on the button in panic.

Without thinking, you nodded, kneeling beside the baby.

“It’s okay, Gi-Hun will take care of you.” Your breath was shaking as you whispered to her, a soft smile on your lips. You were scared, but you were content.

Gi-Hun watched in shock as you raised yourself to your feet, turning to face him.

“It’s been fun, Gi-Hun.” Your smile remained.

Gi-Hun froze, assuming that you were going to kill him, until you took a step back. Not only did Gi-Hun freeze, so did In-Ho as he watched you.

If he doesn’t keep his promise, I’ll kill him myself, In-Ho swore to himself.

He didn’t have to worry for long, but each second felt like torture as he watched your feet come close to the edge. As you were about to jump, Gi-Hun’s hand caught you. You looked up at him, a confused look on your face as he didn’t move.

“You promised her, Gi-Hun. You promised that you’d keep her child safe. This is the only way.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

Gi-Hun shook his head.

“I promise Young-Il I’d keep you safe too.”

Your eyes widened as you questioned him.

“When?”

Gi-Hun swallowed, glancing at the timer: 12:36 minutes remaining.

“Yesterday…”

“He’s alive!?”

Gi-Hun nodded, glancing towards the window behind you where he knew In-Ho was standing. You followed his gaze, brain putting the pieces together.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, mainly to yourself at the realisation.

Gi-Hun nodded, confirming your fears and suspicion of Young-Il’s true identity. Your hands shook, as you attempted to take a further step back off the ledge, but Gi-Hun gripped you tightly, shaking his head.

“I promised I would keep her child safe, and I trust you enough to do that, Y/N.” Gi-Hun’s rough voice told you, eyes closing as you shook your head in disagreement.

“Gi-Hun, no.”

Gi-Hun held your gaze for a moment, squeezing you tightly.

“I trust you,” were his final words before he rushed off the edge, your eyes wide and filled with tears.

“Player 456 eliminated.”

You couldn’t move, even though you needed to.

You could hear the beeping, see the timer, you knew you needed to move, but you couldn’t.

Gi-Hun…

You almost screamed when you felt someone touch your shoulder, head spinning towards the culprit.

“Young-Il…”

He nodded, helping you to the feet before walking towards the child who seemed peaceful. You watched in shock as he carefully held her, wordlessly placing her in your arms before leading you both down the elevator and away from the island.

You didn’t know where you were going or what the future held for you and the child, but you did know one thing: Young-Il – or In-ho as you soon found him to be called – cared for you, and he wasn’t about to let you leave easily.

[lilmoonbunny]

Looking after a baby with Hwang In-Ho

SEASON THREE SPOILERS, I REPEAT, SEASON THREE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!

In-Ho brings home a random child who you find out to be an eliminated player's new-born. You both take her in as your own (and re-unite with Jun-Ho).

When In-Ho returns home to you with a baby you don’t recognise, you don’t know what to think.

Usually, you would stay at the island with him while the games took place, but this time he refused. It was too dangerous for you to be there, you recall him saying.

You didn’t understand at first, but when you found out that the lucky survivor of the 33rd Squid Game, Seong Gi-Hun, was returning, swearing vengeance, you understood.

(He also didn’t want you to know that he was playing the games again, even though it technically wouldn’t have mattered if he had lost a game; he was the frontman, after all).

So, when he returns to your shared home, a solemn expression and a newborn child in hands, you’re rightfully taken aback.

You hear him before you see him, the door clicking shut and him quietly humming a tune you recall from your childhood.

“It’s okay,” you hear him whisper to… someone. “You’re okay, I promise.”

You pause for a moment, wondering who he was talking to.

“In-Ho?” You call out, your eyes widening as he turns the corner to enter the lounge with a bundle of two green jackets in his hands, a tiny head barely visible. “What the-“you cut yourself off as you jump to your feet, rushing towards your husband and the child. “What happened?”

In-Ho hesitated, a flicker of guilt darting through his eyes, leaving as quickly as it came, but you noticed it. You saw it in the way his body tensed, the way he swallowed, mouth opening and closing a few times before he explained.

You silently nodded at his explanation, gently taking the unnamed child from his subtly shaking hands.

In-Ho watched as you glanced down at her, a soft smile on your lips.

“Hi there,” you smiled softly, gently caressing her cheek with your pinky finger. “It’s nice to meet you.”

In-Ho simply smiled, a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Seeing you with a child, even if it wasn’t yours, warmed In-Ho’s heart. He had always wanted this, especially with you. Maybe things hadn’t worked out with his late wife, but he would be damned if he let anything take this away from him.

You didn’t know what to do, In-Ho hadn’t even named the child that he had randomly brought home. In the end, you both decided on the name Hwang Ji-Yoo.

In-ho would never forget the way you smiled up at him when you decided on the name, and you wouldn’t forget the soft kiss he placed on your lips, followed by a quiet I love you.

It didn’t take long for Ji-Yoo to become a part of your family. You both went out and bought everything that you needed, In-Ho admittedly spending too much money on things that you likely wouldn’t even need (not that it really mattered).

You would both watch over her in her new room – you were glad that you guys didn’t settle on the one-bedroom place that you were originally looking at – and take turns waking up in the middle of the night, at least at first.

You knew that In-Ho had always longed for a child, knew of what happened with his previous wife, so seeing him being able to live his dream truly warmed your heart. Sure, it had come from a fucked-up situation, but it was all worth it in the end to see him smile.

You stood silently against the doorway to Ji-Yoo’s room, watching as In-Ho quietly shushed her, assuming you to still be asleep. He had a tired yet soft smile on his lips as he rocked her in his arms, gently caressing her.

“We need to be quiet, or we’ll wake your mama, okay?” He whispered. “Come on, let’s get you some food.”

You and In-Ho did basically just become parents to 222’s child, or Jun-hee as you later find her to be called, and with this comes the terms mum and dad. It was unexpected but not unwelcomed. In fact, every time In-Ho used or heard either term, he could feel his chest spark with warmth, his heart racing a little faster.

In-Ho was usually the one who got up in the middle of the night with your daughter, despite your protests. The fact that he was a light-sleeper – one who hardly slept at all – was the reason that he gave you, rather than also admitting that he couldn’t bare to see you look so tired.

As Ji-Yoo grew, so did your love for her, as well as each other. You both watched her grow, In-Ho even shedding a tear when her first word was dada; he held you tighter that night.

The guilt still followed him, but he knew that this second chance at life was not to be taken lightly. Yes, it was Seong Gi-Hun who made the promise to protect the child, but it was Hwang In-Ho who kept it. It was his way of an apology, his way of remembering those that had died, those who had considered him… a friend.

In-Ho, despite being on edge and alert when he did, loved taking you and Ji-Yoo to the park. She loved the swings, and he loved pushing her. She would always beg for her dada to push her, all while you watched with a smile

“Higher, dada!” Ji-Yoo giggled, a lopsided grin on her slushy stained lips as In-Ho continued pushing her on the swing. “Faster!”

In-Ho chuckled, lightly pushing her; it was strange to see him be so gentle with someone, especially after all the death that surrounded him.

“I’m going as fast as I can, sweetheart!” He smiled, looking down at the young girl. She was only 4, but she was learning to talk fast, but then again, she did have a good teacher.

Ji-Yoo giggled again, kicking her legs excitedly as she went just a tiny bit faster.

In-Ho loves teaching her to speak, pride showing on his face every time Ji-Yoo correctly pronounces a word. He’s her biggest supporter, cheering her on every step of the way.

He absolutely spoils her, despite your protests. He will buy her anything that she wants: toys, food, literally anything. He’s such a girl dad.

But this is Hwang In-Ho and his protectiveness isn’t just going to go away. He’s always on edge whenever you and Ji-Yoo aren’t in your home, the only place that he deems safe. He will always keep an eye on you both and isn’t against going back to his old ways, if necessary, but thankfully, it hasn’t come to that.

He has his moments, Ji-Yoo does look exactly like her mother, and while he didn’t know her for long, it was a reminder of the hurt and pain that he had caused others. Even if he tried to ignore it, it was still there, and he was glad that he had you to help him with that.

Even with a child in the scene, In-ho still makes time for you, although he is reluctant to leave Ji-Yoo with anybody else, which is why he contacted Jun-Ho who was simply glad to see his brother alive and, well, happy.

Uncle Jun-Ho is just as bad for spoiling her, by the way. He will take her out on playdates, babysit her, and no matter what it is they do, she always comes back with at least one new toy.

“Mama, dada, look what Uncle Jun-Ho got me!” Ji-Yoo grinned as she ran into your arms, giggling as you twirled her around in the air, both In-Ho and Jun-Ho watching you both with a smile.

“He’s got you something again?” You asked sweetly, looking at Jun-Ho with feign annoyance, shaking your head in amusement when he just shrugged. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

“Thank you, Uncle Jun-Ho!” She said, giving him a huge hug which he was more than happy to reciprocate.

In-Ho loves singing nursery rhymes and reading to her and he always stays there for at least thirty minutes after she’s fallen asleep before leaving with a soft kiss to her forehead.

In-ho is just such a girl dad and just loves spoiling his little girl (and his wife, of course).

[lilmoonbunny]

Jumin Han with an overworked student s/o

Warnings: MC overworks herself at school, not proofread (does anyone even still like Mystic Messenger?)

When you first joined the RFA, you reminded Jumin of Jaehee.

You were always studying, rarely taking breaks and when you did take a break, it was only to work on the party or talk to the other RFA members.

Jumin would rarely speak to you unless he had to as you really reminded him of his assistant.

In all honesty, he wasn’t particularly bothered about your unhealthy study habits; all he cared for was having a successful party.

He was aware you were skipping meals to study, but he didn’t exactly care for your health. He only cared about the party (okay, a tiny bit of him did care, but he ‘logically’ reasoned with himself that he didn’t even know you, so it was pointless caring).

Well, that didn’t last long…

Eventually, you piqued Jumin’s interest when you defended him from the RFA’s ruthless teasing about how cold he is.

He wasn’t sure why you were defending him. In his eyes, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it, but here you were, defending him and being logical.

He told himself he’d give you a chance from then on as you seemed as though you wouldn’t judge him for how he acts and his closed off personality.

The closer you two got, the more worried he became.

It was clear you weren’t sleeping or eating; you really weren’t taking care of yourself.

No matter how many times the other’s told you to put yourself first, you wouldn’t. You always had an excuse as to why you had to study.    

Jumin tried to help, of course, he was starting to care for you.

He no longer saw you as someone like his assistant, but as a friend… a potential lover, if you will (yes, he had feelings for you).

You were constantly studying/working, and it seemed like you would work yourself into an early grave.

Jumin was worried, everyone was.

Perhaps that was a reason Jaehee pleaded with you to go visit Jumin to see if he was okay.

You brought your work – you had to, at least in your eyes – and would work/study when you weren’t working on the party.

Jumin tried to pry you away from your work but struggled.

You wouldn’t eat the food specifically prepared for you when you were working, and even if you did, it was small portions; you just had no appetite, stress, he assumed.

Jumin tried everything, he even offered to pay your university so that you wouldn’t have to study as much. You said no, of course, something which he appreciated it, even though he knew you didn’t want him for his money.

The whole issue with Glam Choi and Sarah was causing you more stress, as to be expected. You were being told how you would never amount to anything, which only made you study more. Jumin knew that he had to do something… anything. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t let you overwork yourself any longer.

So, he arranged with your university to be able to take a break after the party, and they agreed, knowing who he was, and after the party, you both went away on a trip.

Your trip was perfect (obviously, it was Jumin’s idea, and he had everything planned) and when you came back, he told (threatened) you that if you didn’t stop overworking yourself, he would only spend more money on you, something which you didn’t want.

It was difficult to change your habits, and it took time, but Jumin was with you every step of the way, as were the other RFA members.

Your friends (and classmates) were so shocked to find out you were dating Jumin, by the way. Some people hated you for it out of jealousy, others were very happy for you and said you deserved it and that they hope he makes you very happy (he does).

Overall, Jumin will not let you overwork yourself ever again and always makes sure you take care of yourself.

[lilmoonbunny]

Don't; Hwang In-Ho

Warnings: Typical Squid Game violence, Season 1 spoilers (no season 2 spoilers), reader is older than Jun-Ho, creepy old man.

You couldn’t remember the last time that you had slept properly; not since In-Ho went missing, at least.

There were so many unanswered questions, so little information about his potential whereabouts, and neither you nor Jun-Ho knew where to begin. That was until he found that card… That damned card.

You recognised it immediately, of course you did. Your father had received the same one… had invited you to come with him. You couldn’t tell Jun-Ho. How could you?

How could you tell him that his brother – your lover – had been taken to play death games, all while your father and other rich pigs watched in enjoyment. You knew what you had to do: you had to go.

As you followed your father into the building on the island, you paused, wondering if not telling Jun-Ho had been a mistake. While you hadn’t seen him in a few days – a sharp contrast from your usual seeing of each other every day – you could have text him, just to let him know. It was too late now, though. There was no point dwelling on it, you had to find In-Ho.

In-Ho recognised you straight away, freezing in place for a moment before regaining his composure.

Why were you here? He asked himself. He had sworn to himself that neither you nor Jun-Ho would ever become involved with his wrongdoings, yet here you were, and little did he know, so was Jun-Ho.

“Search all the VIP’s belongings,” he had told one of the guards, watching as they wordlessly nodded and quietly left the room, obeying the frontman.

In-Ho’s eyes were on you, yet you were unaware, too focused on trying to find him, despite him being so close to you.

Would you ever know? God, he hoped not.

Jun-Ho was quick to recognise your figure, eyes widening beneath the mask that did not belong to him. He watched you converse with a man way too old to be flirting with you.

“Such pretty eyes you have,” the man said, gazing into your eyes, rather than watching the game in front of him. “Such a pretty young thing.” The hand the man placed on you had you cringing, yet you held yourself well. This was your chance to find out some information.  To find out if something had happened to In-Ho.

In-Ho was watching, eyes glaring at the man who seemed so infatuated with you. It should be him touching your cheek, thumb running across your skin.

“Maybe if you come into another room with me, I can show you them in another light,” your flirtation lit a fire inside In-Ho but he knew that there was nothing that he could do; he couldn’t expose himself.

The man was quick to take up the offer. Why wouldn’t he? And so, the two brothers you were so acquainted with watched as you led to man into a private room, hands intertwined.

Nobody noticed as In-Ho left, pulling up a camera to watch what was happening.

“Please,” the man sobbed. “Please don’t kill me.” He begged, trying desperately to lean away from the cold barrel of the gun that you pressed against his head. The very gun that you had stolen from a guard that you passed on your way to watch the games.

You didn’t want to kill him, but if that was what it took to find In-Ho, you would.

“Tell me what you know about the games, and I’ll consider letting you live,” your lips were pulled into a straight line.

The man sobbed again, entire body shaking as he stuttered out the little that he knew.

You nodded, watching as the man relaxed for a moment when you didn’t immediately pull the trigger.

“You’ve been very helpf-“you began before you pulled the trigger; you couldn’t let him potentially expose you to the others.

In-Ho couldn’t stop his eyes widening as you pulled the trigger. As you killed a man. All for him. To find him.

You would never look at him the same, was all that he could think.

“Sir,” a guard muttered. “This was found in the girls belongings.” They said, passing the frontman a small picture.

It was you, Jun-Ho, and In-Ho on Jun-Ho’s graduation day. You were all smiling as Jun-Ho stood there. In-Ho’s arm was wrapped tightly around you, Jun-Ho stood in front of you both.

“It’s the same man in the ID that was found,”

In-Ho knew he had to act fast, and so he left to find Jun-Ho, no matter how much he didn’t want to.

“Who are you?” Jun-Ho asked the masked frontman in front of him.

Sweat ran down his palms as he stood on the edge of the cliff. One wrong move and he would fall, most likely to his death. He didn’t have many bullets and there were too many guards. They would easily win, and they were already preparing to shoot on their boss’s command.

Too focused on the man wearing black, Jun-Ho didn’t notice you quietly approaching; nobody did until you kicked a guard, grabbing his gun as he tumbled to the ground. You were quick to run over to Jun-Ho, standing in front of him, ready to protect the younger man at all costs.

“Tell us who you are,” you said, unlocking the safety of the gun that the guard had foolishly forgotten to take off. “I will shoot you all.”

The guards prepared to shoot at the warning until the frontman raised his hand as a simple no, reaching up to unclasp his mask, despite his injured shoulder.

“In-Ho…” Jun-Ho whispered as you stood there wordlessly, hands shaking as you dropped the gun in shock.

“You’re the one doing this?” You asked. “How could you?”

In-Ho’s shoulders tensed at your words, at the coldness in your voice, the raw, unfiltered hurt.

His hand raised, reaching towards both you and Jun-Ho.

“Come with me…” He pleaded, hesitating for a moment when Jun-Ho shook his head. “Please.” He whispered.

Jun-Ho shook his head, and you watched in horror as In-Ho shot him causing Jun-Ho to fall backwards and off the cliff.

Your head spun around, watching him hit the water below as you screamed his name.

“How could you?” You repeated your earlier words, taking a step back, further towards the cliff.

In-Ho could read your mind, he had known you long enough.

“Y/N, don’t,” he warned, the hand that previously held the gun now shaking by his side.

“You’re not the man I thought you were,” were your final words as you jumped off the cliff, determined to help Jun-Ho… before it was too late.