#Because I figure I’ll need the reminder by Friday

[hamletthedane]

It’s time to call in the big guns, boys

*takes a shower, eats, and goes to bed early*

[tasteleeknow]

[ 11:05 ] “You know he loves you, don’t you?” Chan questions as he hands you his car keys. You fiddle with the soft toy that hangs between the keys, tugging at the small wolf’s ears. 

Chan sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Just go.” 

You take a step towards the door before hesitating, lifting your eyes to meet his. You’d have to trust he’d keep this conversation to himself. You could feel it already, the anxiety that would bubble up to your throat the second you left the apartment with this conversation unresolved.

Minho was leaving. He was moving out—across the country—and he hadn’t said a word to you about it. Sure, you didn’t live here. But you may as well have. You spent so much time and the apartment he shared with Chan they’d often joke about when you were going to start splitting the bills. 

“What if he changes his mind?” you ask, managing to keep your voice steady. “If I do something… change how it is now… what if he changes his mind?” 

“Why would he do that?” 

“Because he’ll know me. He’ll get closer and maybe he won’t like what he finds.” 

Chan takes the keys from your hands, halting your fiddling. “Sit down,” he instructs gently, gesturing to the small lounge you’d taken to falling asleep on some nights. You do as he says, folding your hands in your lap as you wait for him to join you. 

He doesn’t. 

You watch as he disappears down the short hallway and into Minho’s bedroom, returning only moments later with a small shoebox in his hand. He doesn’t drag it out. He sits on the small table in front of you and opens the lid. 

It reminded you a lot of the small box you kept under your bed in your childhood bedroom, a collection of miscellaneous things you’d attached memories to as you’d grown. A bracelet from your 11th birthday, a playing card you’d scooped out of the water on your trip to Vietnam, the paper mache rabbit you’d made when you were 8, the key to the padlock you’d used for your locker in high school.

This box was much like that. You don’t recognise anything at first, not until Chan digs out a small clay cat, one of your earliest attempts at moulding clay figures. It was an ugly thing, wonky and misshapen. Minho had snatched it from your hands when you’d announced it was going in the rubbish. “He can’t help being ugly,” he’d said. “He’s mine now.” 

Chan passes the clay cat to you. He’s cuter than you’d remembered.

“They’re all from you," he says. 

You look up. “Hm?” 

“The box,” he clarifies. “They’re all things you’ve given him.” 

You peak into the box, attempting to spot anything else you recognise. There are scattered pieces of paper, some are sticky notes you vaguely remember attaching to his bedroom door on days you’d visited when he wasn’t home. You pick one up and read it silently, ‘You missed me. Unlucky for you. I’ll be around Friday.’ You’d drawn a small rabbit in the corner. 

Chan takes the note from you along with the clay cat. You watch as he places them back inside the shoebox and replaces the lid. “I shouldn’t let you go through it—not without his permission. I just need you to understand.” He places the box on the table beside him carefully, like it’s full of priceless porcelain. “You know him,” he continues. “He doesn’t make decisions lightly. He knows what he wants and when he wants something… that’s it. You’re it.” He sighs. “You know him.” 

You look to his discarded car keys. “You still need milk.” 

“I’ll get it. You’ll stay?” 

You nod. “I’ll stay.” 

—

He leaves shortly after that. Leaves you to pace as you wait for Minho to arrive. He was leaving. Leaving Chan. Leaving you. He hadn’t offered an explanation. 

You jump as he knocks on the door. He expected Chan to be home. He wasn't expecting you. You press your hand to your chest and take one last deep breath before marching over and letting him in. 

His eyes widen a little as he takes you in. You hadn’t seen him in two weeks now. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met three years prior. You step aside to let him in, pressing your fingers into your clavicle in an attempt to ground yourself. 

“I didn’t know you were coming around,” he says as he takes his shoes off. “Chan didn’t—” 

“He left,” you interrupt. “Chan. He went out because he wanted—I wanted to talk to you.” 

He stands and shucks his winter jacket from his shoulders. “Talk to me?” he questions. 

You nod. “Would you… sit? Please?” 

He looks a little nervous now. You wonder if he can see the same emotion in you. He sits exactly where you’d been sitting when Chan had shown you the box. He leaves his beanie on and you take in the way his brown hair peeks out around his neck. He waits. 

You can’t find it within yourself to sit, choosing to stand across from him instead—leaving the small table between you. “Can I ask you something?” 

He nods and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “Mm,” he says. “Anything.” 

“It’s a big ‘something’.”

“Okay,” he says simply. 

“Would you stay?” you ask, tugging on your fingers. Your heart thumps in your chest. “If I asked you to stay, would you?” 

His brow furrows slightly. “I—” 

“Because I need you to stay. Please. I need you not to leave me. I know it’s a lot and I don’t know why you’re leaving and I’m sure it’s very important and I don’t even know if you want to stay here. Maybe you don’t but—” 

“Wait,” he says, interrupting your rambling. You take a steadying breath as he stands. He tugs his beanie from his head and drops it onto the table. His hair stands on all ends. You desperately want to run your hands through it. But you can’t. Your knuckle pops as you tug a little hard on one of your fingers. “Leaving?” he questions, clearly confused. Alarm bells ring in your head. “Why would I leave?”

“Chan said—” you cut yourself off. Oh you were going to wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze so hard he– “You’re not leaving?”

“No. But you thought I was…you said you need me to stay...” Minho says with a smirk, making his way around the table slowly. 

“Forget everything I just said.” 

“Can’t,” he says, his smirk transforming into a small grin. “Sorry.” 

You could tell him you’d seen the box, a small voice in your head offers. Then you’d both be embarrassed. You snuff it out before it can fully form. If it was anyone else… But it was him. You’d take much worse than one-sided embarrassment for him. 

“Alright. Well, Chan had his fun. I’m going home.” 

Minho steps in front of you, cutting off your exit. “Stay,” he says simply. 

“Why?” 

“Because I want you to.” 

“Why?” 

He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Because I haven’t seen you in two weeks. Why is that, by the way? Chan said—” 

“Chan says a lot of things, apparently."

Minho collapses into the couch cushions beside you and throws his arm over the back of the lounge. You join him. “He said you were busy,” Minho says. “That you didn’t have time for us.” 

“I was… sulking.” 

He presses his lips together, failing to suppress a smile. “Sulking?” 

“I thought you were moving out. Chan wouldn’t tell me why he said you’d talk to me when you wanted to. But you didn’t. I thought you were leaving without even talking to me about it.” 

The hand over the back of the couch moves a little, then he begins playing with your hair—gentle fingers fiddling with the strands that fall over your shoulder. “I think it’s my fault,” he says as you struggle to regulate your breathing. “I said something to him a few weeks ago. Something that may have… caused this. I’ll fix it.” 

His fiddling with your hair breaks a barrier, one that allows you to lean a little towards him and fix the strands of hair that stick on all ends. He’s quiet at first, letting you brush his hair out with your fingers. Then, just as you begin working on a particularly stubborn tuft right at his parting, he speaks, “I would never leave you,” he says. It’s almost a whisper. Gentle and quiet, almost like he hadn’t meant to speak it at all. 

“You wouldn’t?”

He takes your arm, stubborn tuft forgotten. “I thought you knew that. I thought you knew that I…” he trails off as his eyes drop to where his fingers wrap around your wrist. 

“Minho?” you whisper. He looks up. “I do. I know.” 

He blinks, a brief moment of panic crossing his features as his fingers tighten on your wrist. 

“I love you, too,” you add quickly, keen to end his anxiety. “So much.” 

He blinks. Once, twice. Then he drops his head, letting his hair fall over his eyes. He takes a deep breath and you watch as he lifts your wrist to his lips. You can’t see the way he presses a kiss to your skin, his long hair obscuring your view. But you feel it. You feel his warm breath as he holds you there for a moment afterwards. 

Then he lifts his head. 

You catch a blur of his smile as he lunges at you, pushing you onto your back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He keeps the majority of his weight off you and you bask in the warmth of him for the minute of two he stays like this. Then he’s sitting up again, tugging you up with him and practically lifting you into his lap. You wrap your arms around him, settling yourself comfortably against him as he releases a contented sigh. 

“Did Chan tell you?” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I knew before that.” 

He groans, dropping his head back. You can see the tiny mole at his jawline: a target. You press a gentle kiss there. “I knew you loved me,” you whisper. “You’re so good at it.. so full of love. But I—I think I was afraid you’d stop, like when you see a stray cat and you’re afraid if you move it’ll startle…that it’ll leave and you’ll never get to try again. Having you as a friend is better than not having you at all.” 

He lifts his head to look at you. You can see the way he’s fighting it, all the emotion. He doesn’t express it with words, but he doesn’t need to. It leaks from his eyes and from his gentle touches. “I don’t startle,” he grumbles after a moment. 

You grin. “‘M’kay, whatever you say,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his for the first time. 

[1d1195]

Traditional X

You can read the rest of Traditional here.

We are getting to the end of what I believe is the main storyline here. Maybe one or two more parts but I already have at least three little extras lined up in my head too.

Additionally, I added in the days because it was kind of getting all over the place and I wanted to make sure the timeline wasn't too confusing--especially since we're winding down on days until the internship is over. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Also, another reminder I don't know anything about running a business.

This part has some minor character death/trauma mentioned, sensitive topics, grief, angst, and I may or may not have cried a bit while writing, so that should put it in perspective I think. Try not to hate me at the end I don't think you're going to like it. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to read.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him: I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Friday

Louis and Eleanor were lying on her couch (and one another) while she lay on the rug in front of the coffee table, facing the TV. Her phone vibrated with a message from Harry.

Can we chat sometime today?

That sounds like a terrible way to break up with me. Don’t tell your other girls that.

Don’t be ridiculous, kitten. All of it.

I’ll call you when Louis and El leave.

I’ll be waiting impatiently.

“Must be Harry. She definitely doesn’t smile at Niall’s messages like that,” Louis chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head back to her friends. They were watching a movie trying to decide where to eat or if they should order in. It was a regular, run of the mill day. They worked their Friday shifts and now they were lying about her pretty apartment that she hardly felt she’d been spending any time in. Mondays of course were still dinner out with Harry, Thursdays were movie nights at his place (and with any luck something a bit cheekier, now), and she spent many Saturday nights at his place sleeping beside him until one in the morning where they spoke quietly, candidly about anything. In the morning, she woke up to a rotation of pancakes, waffles, or French toast.

And kisses.

She woke up to a ton of kisses.

So, this Friday evening, she spent with Louis and Eleanor watching a movie that was so trashy it was wonderful. “How’s the job search?” Louis asked.

She frowned. The one sore spot that seemed to get sorer each passing day. “I really thought interning at Styles Incorporated was going to give me a leg up,” she sighed. “I don’t know... I’ve applied to some top places and they’ve either passed or ghosted me. Maybe I need to lower my standards.”

“Absolutely not,” Eleanor said immediately. “You deserve the top. You deserve it all,” she said.

Smiling, she looked at Eleanor, snuggled under Louis who was draped across her lap, and he winked at her. “You deserve the very best, babe,” he told her.

She shrugged and let out a sad sigh. “I don’t think these places think I do though,” she mumbled. “But it’s fine...I... I don’t know... I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to let it stop me now. Another month and I’ll be done.”

There was a pause. “Speaking of,” Louis began. “I’m told your program does in fact, have a graduation ceremony.”

She blinked surprised by the idea as if she didn’t already know. “What?”

“Harry told me that of course your college has one and you—”

She only vaguely heard the end of Louis’ sentence. She was feeling...anger? Anger at Harry? It didn’t seem like that was a reasonable conclusion. She had never been mad at him in the eight months she had known him. But her chest started to ache, and her blood felt hot, and she didn’t want to be mad at Harry, but she was sad he betrayed her trust in what she told him at one in the morning. Even if it was a silly little thing like making sure she had people at her graduation ceremony. She shook her head. “I’m not walking,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to.”

“Love, you worked so hard!” Eleanor gasped. “Please! It would mean so much to us to see you do it. We want you to have that.”

While the kindness and the meaningfulness of their words was not lost on her, she was serious in what she told Harry. But maybe she left out the part that she didn’t want to walk across the stage because it would remind her of the last graduation ceremony she attended. The last time she remembered a big happy family memory. “When did Harry tell you?” She asked quietly.

“He didn’t know for sure when it was...He was probing around, I think, because he might be trying to get you something,” Eleanor said so excitedly she was practically clapping. “Oh, I bet it’s going to be amazing whatever he gets you.”

“We weren’t that surprised, but we told him that you weren’t walking because there wasn’t a ceremony...and he told us there most assuredly was—which did surprise us. Most interns went in the past, so what’s the scoop on that, love?” Louis smirked, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. It caught in her hair. “Lying to your best friends?”

She didn’t feel like rehashing all the sad details and explaining why she didn’t want to go. “I just didn’t want it to be a big deal,” she shrugged as casually as she possibly could. She should have just told them, but she didn’t want it to be a thing.

However, Louis sensed there was more to her hiding it, immediately. It was why he was her best friend. But he didn’t press. Maybe he would later when he could get her alone. Every once in a while, he managed to pick up on something in her voice that said something of her past was coming through. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Well, that’s fine. We’d still like to go. A couple pictures and that’s it. Then dinner. Nothing else. I won’t even get you a card to commemorate the day.”

“Oh, I’m getting you a card,” Eleanor nodded fiercely. “Gonna write you the mushiest proud letter there is to write,” she smiled wrinkling her nose at her.

So, how could she say no to them? They loved her so wholly it really was unfair to exclude them after their endless support. Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s Saturday, the 14th,” she rolled her eyes. Both pulled out their phones and tapped rapidly putting it in their calendars.

“Good,” Louis smiled. “Now let’s go get dinner,” he said kissing Eleanor on his way off her lap and helping her up as he nearly ran for the door all in one movement. Eleanor rolled his eyes.

“You picked him,” she reminded El. “In high school too,” she shook her head and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“I know, aren’t I lucky?” El said with a mocking dreamy tone in her voice but she meant it. It was obvious on her face, and she loved that about Eleanor most of all. Letting Louis be himself, unapologetically. Louis was the very best and she was glad someone else saw it too. Eleanor squeezed her arm and followed him. She took a second to take in the moment. She couldn’t help but smile so completely happy with her life for the first time in a very long while.

*

She woke up at some point in the night by herself on the comfiest mattress she ever owned all thanks to Harry. She peered through two of the slats on the blinds of her window to get a better estimate of the time without having to look at her phone in hopes of falling back asleep in a few moments. It was still pitch-black out, save for the moon illuminating the sky.

After tossing and turning for nearly five minutes without drifting off quickly, she decided she may as well make good use of her time. She grabbed for her phone. As expected, the clock told her that if they were sharing a bed, it was time to have her nightly chat with Harry.

When she came back from dinner and before she fell asleep this evening, she told Harry she was a bit tired. She would call, of course. But she might drift off while talking.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him. I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Her heart was bursting. “Yeah?”

“M-hmm.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. She frowned. But it was like he knew she was frowning, because he continued, putting her mind at ease. “I would probably wake up from a coma t’hear your voice.”

She was so close to saying she loved him out loud. How could she not? But how would she be any different than any intern or companion before her? She was determined to wait until it was over. Until he stopped paying her and then she could at least tell him. So he knew and he could...decide if she was worth it. “Did you have a good day?” She whispered instead.

He yawned and she heard the rustling of his sheets. Sitting up against his fluffy pillows, she assumed. “S’alright,” it sounded as if he were shrugging it off. “I was in a crummy mood all morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she wished she went into his office earlier to see how she could have helped.

“Not something y’could have helped with, beautiful,” he had a smirk in his voice. It left her breathless that he could tell how she was feeling without seeing her. “Before y’worry.”

“Me? Worry?”

He chuckled that beautiful breathy laugh of his. She imagined his dimples, his glittering eyes. “Mmm...”

It was quiet for a moment and since he wanted to hear her talk, she thought she may as well get it out of the way. “So...” she sighed. “Louis and Eleanor found out about my graduation ceremony actually happening somehow...and they’re making me go.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, which told her he already knew that they had found out because of him. “I think y’should go, love.”

“I know. I’m going to.”

He sighed with relief. “That’s good.”

“If...” she swallowed awkwardly hating how she was even asking in the first place. “If you wanted to come...I think I get a ton of tickets...it is a Saturday so you wouldn’t miss wor—”

“Kitten, of course m’going t’be there,” he promised. “I’d sell m’company t’be there for you.”

She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’d sell it t’Niall, maybe. But I’d still sell it.”

She giggled. “Do you think Niall would want to come, too?”

“Yes, absolutely. We wouldn’t miss it.”

She clutched the phone tighter to her ear enjoying the sound of Harry at the other end. The irritation she felt was only a nagging little bite on the inside of her head that she pushed away. Because really, this whole month had to be the most, and totally, happiest she had been in years.

*

Saturday/Sunday

“I blame myself for my brother’s death,” she said it softly. She didn’t even ask if he was awake. Either she somehow knew, or she wasn’t looking for him to answer. Harry frowned, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. It was a sudden comment, but it was the middle of the night. It was what they did.

“I don’t think that’s possible, kitten.”

“I went to some stupid school party. I didn’t want to get in the car with the person offering a ride home. So, he came to pick me up, no questions asked. Not a care in the world that it was almost two in the morning,” she shrugged against him. “A car hit us,” she said simply. It was silent for a minute. Harry hardly moved. “He must have seen it coming before I did... because he turned...so his side of the car took the brunt of the hit.” He squeezed her. “I tried to pull him out. Begged him to breathe,” she shook her head. “It was awful,” her voice cracked. Harry couldn’t imagine what she had seen. Couldn’t imagine what it took for her to get in the car. No wonder she walked everywhere.

“Y’don’t have t’tell me, love,” he told her, and he meant it. That was plenty. He could fill in the gaps if it meant she didn’t have to relive it again. He was sure she relived it every day.

“It’s why my parents hate me.”

Harry sucked his lip into his mouth. “They shouldn’t,” he fully believed that. He may not have judged them for the way they grieved but they lost one child in that accident. It easily could have been two and yet somehow, they chose to lose them both even though she was right there, alive and in need of love more than ever.

Harry wouldn’t say it to her now, but he would think part of his heart would feel like it was missing if she had been lost all those years ago. Whether he knew her or not.

“Sometimes I think they’re right to,” she sniffled. “I’d hate me, too. He was the best,” she whispered shakily.

“Kitten.”

He loved the dark and their little chats every day since they started. Today, he hated it. It was too revealing. This was hurting her. And he hated that most. “I should have died.”

“Thank God, you didn’t.”

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. How many times had she said it to herself, her therapist, to Louis of all people? The only person who consoled her and not her parents...the only person who needed to be consoled as much as her was Louis. As he was breaking down, he was trying to keep her together. It wasn’t fair at all.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “It’s not.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

More silence. “I told you the dark is revealing.”

He smirked sadly. He wished he could tell her something just as revealing. But telling her he loved her so wholly when they weren’t in a relationship, not an actual one, after she was grieving for a moment in time, didn’t seem right. Harry wanted to tell her it was easy. Easy to love her. It was effortless having her in his life. He wanted to reveal something of equal weight. If only so she wouldn’t be sad. “I like getting t’know you,” he said instead.

“Even though I’m the reason someone died?”

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Someone else made a dumb decision, love. Of course, your brother would come t’help you. I’d do the same for Gem,” he promised. “S’in the brother handbook.”

“Louis said the same thing...he has a bunch of younger sisters...and me.”

“Louis would still do it for you, too; I’m sure.” They were silent again. He thought she fell asleep. Sometimes she would do that. So, he asked the question that had been burning in his mind forever. “I don’t want t’pry...What happened with your parents...after that?”

She shook her head. “Maybe another middle of the night talk. Not this one,” she mumbled.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course, love.”

“Thank you for...everything Harry. Really,” she yawned and nuzzled closer to his chest.

“Course, love,” he repeated and let her fall asleep beside him peacefully.

*

Wednesday

There was yelling from the other side of the door as she knocked, then immediately entered his office with tea. Right as she opened the door, he slammed the phone down to his desk. Then picked it back up and slammed it three more times into the receiver. She blinked and cringed with each hit. He slid a hand over his face and turned to face the window. Part of her thought he didn’t register she was in the room.

“Harry,” she said softly.

He shook his head. “Love, please jus’ leave the tea and go,” he grumbled. “M’gonna snap and I don’t want it t’be at you,” he sounded infuriated. Interns never seemed to work out because of his anger... She knew Niall worked hard to keep her away from Harry’s outbursts. Mostly because Niall knew Harry would never forgive himself if he ever broke her heart or scared her because of his job. But she still knew the stories. The whispers in the breakroom and by the copier about his anger weren’t something she could ignore. Sometimes Harry’s angry tone filled the whole floor. She bit her lip at his warning and nodded silently.

After she set the tea on his desk, she sat on the couch across the room. She sipped at her drink watching him tap on his phone screen searching for something. He turned back around after a moment looking at his computer and then she saw his eyes flicker over to her. “I know I told you t’leave,” his voice was icy. But she saw his gaze soften just a hair.

She didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to set him off or make him any angrier than he already was. She was content to sit there...just wanted to wait there in case he needed her because that’s what she did. Even if he was going to pretend that she wasn’t there.

His phone was ringing from the other end while he called someone. “I need the file we looked at this morning...” A pause and she watched him clench his fist and he squeezed his eyes shut angrily. “Well, I don’t have it!” he snapped slamming his fist on the desk. “If I had it, I wouldn’t have called! Can’t you just do what I fucking ask and bring—"

She hurried to his computer after he slammed his fist down. Not caring even a little, when he hardly moved out of her way and continued yelling at the poor person at the other end of the line. The words he snarled into the phone didn’t reach her ears. With three clicks and a few taps it was on his screen. She stepped out of his way and sat back on the couch waiting for the next mini blowup. He put his phone down again as his eyes scanned the screen. He grumbled about something unintelligible under his breath and he tapped on his phone screen again and brought it to his ear for all of five seconds.

“Come here,” he said into his phone.

Within moments, Niall was there. He frowned seeing Harry’s anger but managed a quick wink at the sweet girl sitting quietly on the couch. She sipped her coffee while Niall went behind Harry’s desk. He looked at the screen for a few moments and she saw his face falter a bit; he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “Well, we knew this was coming.”

Harry turned away and paced to the other end of the room. Hands on the back of his head. Niall scrolled on his screen and sighed. He glanced at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the pair of them since Niall stood next to Harry. “C’mere,” he said to her. She hurried back over. He pointed to several itemized lines and murmured a few things that she only had a vague understanding of due to her limited understanding of things that happened here at Styles Incorporated solely because in the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t been there that long, and she was just an intern.

She looked at the numbers, pursed her lips in concentration and did her best to calculate quickly. “Can you shrink this number?” She asked, pointing at the screen.

He glanced at Harry who looked ready to jump out the window. His head pressed to the glass taking deep, angry breaths. “No, darling.”

“How about this one?” She pointed to a different cell. He shook his head again. She looked over at Harry who was clearly distraught. Sighing, she thought for a few quiet breaths and Niall frowned as he scrolled. She thought back to all her classes, every lecture, and every assignment she had ever worked on. Unfortunately, she came to only one conclusion.

“You can have them file for bankruptcy,” she shrugged.

Niall pushed her behind him as soon as the beginning of that b-word left her mouth. Harry hated that word. At the same time, Harry spun rapidly, took three long strides, and menacingly glared through Niall in her direction. “Are you fucking serious?” He hissed but he was staring so angrily at Niall, but the expression was really meant for her. She gulped audibly. This had to have been the nightmarish things that previous interns spoke about. It made her stomach churn and she thought she might throw up. God bless Niall for standing in her way—she knew Harry wouldn’t resort to physical violence. Not even a little. She felt it in her soul. But part of her wondered if it would hurt less than his cutting, angry voice.

No wonder Niall never let her be around Harry when he was mad. This was terrifying.

“Harry—” Niall started.

She blinked in surprise at how angry he got. At her. But he did warn her. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. “I am not having them file,” he growled.

Her face definitely turned red, and she swallowed nervously. “It’s your only option,” she whispered standing her ground anyway. He flung the cordless keyboard across the room. It smashed into the wall and many of the keys fluttered off in a heap against the wall. She flinched at the sound as he paced back to that side of the room.

“Darling, kindly shut it,” Niall whispered over his shoulder.

Harry paced and paced. Niall was still standing in front of her protectively as Harry grumbled to himself trying to make sense of it. “Why?” He practically barked at her. “Why’s it my only option?”

She took a deep breath. “The legal fees would equate to more than the bankruptcy payback.” He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. Niall even turned around and stared at her in surprise. “What?” She felt like this was a worse thing to say than bankruptcy. Niall stepped from in front of her and used the mouse to click through different screens on the computer, it took a moment because he no longer had a keyboard. He glanced at Harry and nodded.

Harry took a deep breath. “Can y’please explain that for me, love?” His voice was still tight with anger but at least he wasn’t barking at her or throwing things.

So, she did her best to explain that she remembered this once case she studied in her quantitative decision-making class. How it was expensive but kept the company afloat to file for a chapter of bankruptcy that allowed them to pay back the debt and keep going on if they could make it a few years. “She’s right...” Niall said clicking on the computer and gesturing to the screen. “Obviously,” he muttered under her breath.

Harry looked at the screen. While they did, she did some calculations on her phone. “So, they keep their assets?” He asked, looking up at her from the screen while Niall searched something on his phone to show Harry.

She nodded. “As long as they make this much,” she said and held her phone up to the two men.

Niall smirked. “I like her,” he said knowingly.

Harry sighed, still embittered. “Can you go buy me a new keyboard, love?” He asked.

Feeling like she had finally made a difference and helped a bit, she grabbed her coffee and nodded. “Sure,” she said softly.

“Don’t spend your own money on it either,” Harry said knowingly without looking up at her. She smirked to herself and left his office before she could say any more wrong things.

*

Since it was a Wednesday, she hadn’t seen Harry outside the office for two days. After getting the new keyboard and plugging it in, Harry was swamped for the remainder of the day. Lawyers, Niall, and others kept filing in and out of his office. At five in the evening, when most everyone was leaving, they were still coming and going. Niall hadn’t seen her in hours while she sat at her desk sending him files, answering calls, and taking messages. She knocked on the door before entering, carrying five or so pizzas and an assortment of drinks. Niall was the only one who noticed.

He winked at her, mouthed thank you, and watched as she left.

It was another hour before Harry noticed he was eating pizza...with pineapple on the slice. “Who got this?” He muttered.

“That cute intern of Niall’s,” one of the lawyers said.

“That’s your intern Niall? I’d be begging for her to alleviate the stress—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Niall said calmly. Harry was glad he had a bite of pizza in his mouth and Niall interrupted that sentence before it finished. After the day Harry had he wasn’t sure he had much self-control left to not physically attack someone—especially on behalf of her.

How did he not notice the sweet girl bringing pizza? He was certain even if the room was on fire, he would still take the time to notice her. He frowned. He had no idea she did this.

“I think this is enough for tonight, Mr. Styles,” someone said after hours of being there. Harry hadn’t looked at the time in ages. Since before lunch at least. He was only vaguely aware that it was after one at some point only because she brought his daily tea. He nodded silently, still upset about the day but also that he had no idea the perfect girl was there.

“You screamed at her, y’know,” Niall said condensing the pizza boxes. Placing the empty ones by the trashcan for the maintainers to take care of. After everyone left. Harry was helping clean up as well and packing his things.

Harry tended to get a little fuzzy on his consciousness when he was mad. “I told her to leave.”

“You’re stupid for thinking she would,” he rolled his eyes. “She’s quite brilliant,” Niall said knowingly. “When are you going to offer her a job?”

“It’s complicated,” he remarked. “I think if I create a job for her, people...will get suspicious.”

“Who cares?”

Harry worked extremely hard to get Styles Incorporated where it was so quickly. You didn’t become a thirty under thirty member without working hard. In all that time, Harry made every decision he could to the best of his ability. He always wondered if he made mistakes. He loved this company. It was his pride and joy.

The idea of losing pieces of it broke his heart. Since it happened twice within the last three months, and she managed to save both those pieces from falling to the wayside...

She seemed to know how much he loved his job, his legacy. He didn’t like her idea all that much today, even if it was good or his only option. Even when he yelled at her and snarled like she wasn’t the most special person he knew. She still voiced her opinion, and he knew that had to have been hard for her.

It hurt him to think of failing in even one little branch. But he couldn’t argue with her that it was the best option he had for this moment. “This was a brilliant idea,” one of the lawyers said as they typed furiously on their laptop. It was hours after the lovely girl left the new keyboard on his desk. Harry didn’t respond with anything but one little nod. “We should keep this in mind...would have saved you some money a few years ago,” she remarked with a gentle smile.

Niall saying “who cares” suddenly sparked something in him. Why did he care? She was brilliant. He didn’t have to convince anyone of that. It was obvious when she walked into any room, took a passing glance at whatever document they were discussing, any graph they were looking at and she casually pointed out inconsistencies and almost always managed to save him money.

“Have the other interns been like her?” He asked quietly. He had been so closed off, so worried about the reasons they were truly there... The thought of that horrible woman who made comments to the sweet girl about sleeping with him... Harry would feel terrible if he was so cynical about the entire intern process if a quarter of them were as smart as her.

Niall smiled at his best friend. The relief flooded him before Niall even spoke. “Harry, I don’t think there’s anyone like her.”

*

The knock on her door surprised her. She thought it might be Louis or Eleanor who couldn’t be bothered to walk the last five blocks back to their place after a late-night dinner. It was nearing ten and she was snuggled up on the couch with her book and music playing on the TV.

Harry was leaning against the opposite wall as she opened the door. “Oh, hi,” she said softly.

Harry stayed where he was, and he smiled at her, tiredly. “You’re so cute,” he mumbled.

She glanced down at her pajamas. A mismatching pair of shorts and a tank top. One sock on because only the left one was cold. Harry looked tired but beautiful as ever. His button-down sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his dress pants. The tie he had been wearing all day was gone, the button at his neck undone. His hair looked as if he ran his hand through it a few too many times but his tiredness seemed most evident on his face.

“Come in,” she said opening the door wider. “Do you need something to eat or drink?” She asked.

“No... had the pizza y’got us,” he murmured finding his way to the couch, he folded the corner of the page where she was reading and set the book on the coffee table. He waited for her to sit beside him and once she did, his head was in her lap. “M’sorry I screamed at you. Y’didn’t deserve that.”

“I knew you didn’t mean it,” she threaded her fingers through his hair and lightly rubbed at his scalp. “Is it all taken care of?”

“Thanks t’you,” he mumbled. She smiled softly, grateful she could ease his anger and allow him to sleep. She didn’t say anything for a bit and soon enough he was asleep in her lap. She reached for her book and read for the better part of an hour while he snored gently into her leg.

When an hour had passed, she gently pulled herself out from his head and began undressing him down to his boxers. It took effort but once he was mostly naked, she tugged him off the couch holding him up as much as she could with his tall frame to drop him into her bed. She curled up to him, grateful for the extra night with him. The first one at her place, at that.

The moon was bright even through the closed blinds, making his skin practically glow as she faced his sleeping figure. His arm beneath her pillow outstretched so she fit neatly beneath his chin if she was close enough. Their legs twisted together, his much longer than hers.

She was quiet for a bit, tracing the sparrows tattooed just below his collarbones. “They stopped talking to me,” she whispered. It wasn’t quite the standard middle of the night, but it was pressing on her mind because it was rapidly approaching the seven-year anniversary of that horrible day and it hurt so freshly, so sharply. Like it was only a week ago. She wasn’t sure Harry was even awake, but she said it anyway...maybe it was better he didn’t hear anyway. “Except for when they had too much to drink. Then they just yelled and yelled. At each other, at me...” she swallowed the pain down. “If I didn’t go out, he wouldn’t have gone to get me. We would still be a family...he was their prince,” she explained.

Her fingers drifted over his arm that rested gently with his hand at her hip. She traced the heart tattoo, the rose, and then the anchor at his wrist. “They stopped caring about me, but I couldn’t stop caring about them. I made dinner for them even if they didn’t always eat. If they did, they complained about it. I stopped eating with them. We didn’t watch movies together on Sunday evenings. We didn’t celebrate Christmas. Part of me thinks they only kept me there because they knew deep down, I was still a minor and they had to—I could ruin their lives worse by reporting them...” she bit her lip. “I don’t even think I would do that... At some point... they were the only people that ever took care of me... but then they just stopped and honestly, I don’t blame them.”

Harry didn’t make any note that he could hear but she kept going anyway. “So, I started taking care of everyone I crossed paths with...” she paused for a moment just to see if anything registered on Harry’s mind. It didn’t seem like it. But it made it easier for her to tell the story.

“When I turned 18, I invited Louis over to help me. I didn’t say with what. But the second he saw my parents...the ones that didn’t love me anymore... Louis moved me into his place... I felt so horrible, but I actually asked him to stay there just until... until I left for university at the end of the summer. He looked... betrayed. Like I let him down... He gave me the lecture of the century and Eleanor just braided my hair while he did. They made my favorite food. Neither of them said Happy Birthday once and I didn’t even care because for even just one day someone was taking care of me again,” she had done well up to this point not crying.

She sniffled and shook her head. She reached up and outlined Harry’s eyebrows, the shape of his nose. The curve of his lips and the jawline that ached her to the core. “Louis doesn’t talk about it, but I know he saw more than I ever wanted him to. I know he resents the way I hid. I think part of him wished I still lived with him. He insisted I stay the summers I came home from university,” she told the sleeping figure.

“But I got a boyfriend part way through university. We moved in quickly. Of course, I took care of him... and I didn’t mind. I liked it. He liked it. He was easy... food, sex, cleaning...” she mumbled. “But I still went to visit my parents because I couldn’t help it. I’ve never told Louis that. I didn’t tell my therapist that either...I’m sure she would be mad. And you know, I still go twice a month without telling anyone. Well, except you now... I don’t know why... I don’t know... I couldn’t leave them...they...they have to be in there still, right? The people that threw me princess birthday parties and put Band-Aids on my knees after a fall on my bike? Even after...after all of it...they’re my parents somewhere in there. Every time I go it’s just...yelling and hating me. I clean, make sure there’s food in the fridge, and then I leave,” Harry didn’t answer her. “I was supposed to stay the night at a hotel because I was supposed to move some of the last of my things...but it was a bad day. I just wanted to go home... I guess I got the sex part right with him,” she said with a smirk but without humor in her voice. “Just...not with me. Guess I didn’t do a good job there either,” she sighed sadly. “So... There it is. They just...acted as if I died too.”

Harry didn’t move a muscle. She smiled softly and kissed his cheek. “I think that’s everything,” she whispered. “I think you know everything now,” she told him. “Good night, baby,” she whispered tucking herself against his chest.

There was no movement for at least a full minute and then his arms came around her so tightly, he squeezed her like he was trying to press all the broken pieces back together. “You’re so lovely,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that,” he pressed his lips to her temple and she closed her eyes tight trying to keep the tears from spilling over like a waterfall. “S’great t’know you,” he squeezed her again. “S’an honor t’know y’care ‘bout me,” he mumbled to her.

She nodded her head in recognition that she had heard him but if she spoke, she would either cry or, worse, tell him she loved him. So, she sighed deeply against his chest and slowly fell asleep while he pressed another kiss to her forehead. Like he was trying to heal her from the outside in just by kissing the front of her tired, sad brain.

Part of her thought that with Harry it might work.

*

Next Wednesday

Harry was going to lose his mind. When he started the day, he was so excited that he finally had good news for the sweet girl and was excited about their future. He couldn’t wait to surprise her during their movie night the following day, at home snuggled on the comfy couch.

Instead, he was totally blindsided by the fourth of the same type of phone call of that same day.

The call started out the same as all the other ones he’d been getting. They introduced themselves. “Aye, Harry. Zayn. How are you?”

Harry blinked in surprise at the voice at the other end. Zayn was CEO of his own company, located a few towns over called Malik Industries. Rarely did they interact with one another because their clientele was very different. But every so often at big black-tie shin digs and philanthropic events they’d run into one another. In this business, it was all about networking. He was hoping he wouldn’t get this call only because Zayn was closest to his age... which was closer to her age... “Right, good. Yourself?”

“Great. Listen, I’ll make this quick, I know you’re a busy guy. I have an application in front of me and it lists you and Niall as references, and I’m used to seeing Niall’s name... but I had to ask you. You never give your name as a reference.” His heart stopped because he could only guess who the application belonged to.

She applied here too?

“Harry?” He asked. “Did I lose you?”

“Uh...” he shook his head trying to regain his composure. He was absolutely confused. She didn’t say anything about applying to any of these places and this was the fourth phone call he had to sit through with an aching heart. “No, sorry. Untimely email,” he muttered quickly. He wasn’t even facing his computer.

“Right, I understand. I’ll keep it short... you think she would be good here?”

His breath caught in his throat. She would be good anywhere. But the idea of not seeing her smiling face each afternoon carrying tea in her hands to his office (not that she would continue to have to do that if she worked here full time) was the last thing Harry wanted. “Uh...yeah, she...she would be great.”

There was a pause and a short chuckle. “I know you don’t usually do these reference calls, but there’s usually a bit more than that.”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat trying to get the words to spill out. How could he tell her she was perfect? How could he just give her away? He wanted her there all the time in every facet of his life. She made everything better. “I know, I know,” Harry shook his head again in an attempt to get his verbal processing to work again. “She’s perfect. She can do anything. Fit in anywhere. If she doesn’t know how t’do something, she’ll figure it out. Brilliant. Truly. It’s cutthroat out there and she still manages t’be an angel. Doesn’t even bat an eye in the face of adversity. She’ll keep morale up by decorating for holidays and she makes the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.”

“See that’s what—”

“You can’t have her,” Harry interrupted flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought she applied because there—”

“Yes. No. I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “She did apply. She would be perfect. You can’t question that. Seriously. Y’would probably hand her the keys t’your office if she joined y’in any capacity. I want t’do that somedays...but I want t’keep her here.”

“I see,” Zayn sounded agreeable. “She sounds quite special. Her recommendations, her transcript, everything is incredible. She seems like a wonderful asset Harry. Are you sure you have room for her?”

He prickled at the notion that he wouldn’t make room for her. “Yes,” he said definitively.

“Alright. Well, good for you. I hope she’s happy there. I’ll take her application any time in the future if you see a reason she needs to go elsewhere.”

Harry didn’t see it happening ever. “Sorry t’disappoint.”

“Not a problem at all. You know a good one when you see them, I get it. Have a good one,” the call ended abruptly. As if on cue, she knocked and opened his door at quarter past the hour. Clockwork. She closed the door quickly.

“Hi baby,” she winked as she whispered the pet name at him. “Brought your tea. And I got us some cake pops. I think they’re yummy. Maybe we could try to make them from scratch this weekend.”

There is no way she could just go. His heart fluttered at her words, and he smiled. He felt the ache in his chest melting away as it always did when she was around while he was upset. “Whatever you want, kitten.”

Harry didn’t tell her about the good news during movie night. He was too upset about all the phone calls.

He didn’t tell her while they were making cake Pops on that Saturday either.

*

When she chose to just exist that weekend a couple months ago, and not remember anything that happened over her horrible couple of days and not think about her parents, she did catch up with Louis and Eleanor that following Tuesday. Harry watched from her kitchen as the pair of them cooed over her and she let some tears fall.

“Your mum’s not having a memorial,” Eleanor told her. So that was that. It was over.

“Oh,” she said like it was a surprise.

Louis glanced at Eleanor and pursed his lips. She combed her hair back and gave her another hug while Louis pressed his hand to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Louis glanced at Harry and shrugged. Harry thought that meant her mum wasn’t having a memorial that she could attend. It hardened Harry’s heart while he set some mugs of tea on her counter out for the three of them.

The lawyers managed to get some information about her inheritance. The house was already in a trust under her name. “Harry, we’re grasping a bit at straws here. We don’t practice family law,” he reminded him during their next movie night.

“I know, I know. M’sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck while he watched from the kitchen as the girl swayed quietly on the porch swing. At the end of February, she was still insistent on sitting in the freezing cold. “I jus’ want t’make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think this woman cares,” he said bluntly.

Harry frowned and ended the phone call before heading to the swing with mugs of hot chocolate. She lifted the blanket, a beanie hat almost falling into her eyes as he slid in beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder and for the moment Harry just let her live knowing that as long as she stayed here, she was cared for.

Which is why he was so happy when the lawyers finally informed him that she would have the house... eventually. The life insurance policy was never changed out of her name, and it wasn’t like they could change it now. All of it was something that could ease the ache of the worry she had.

Harry attended the memorial service, too, a week or so after that. He told her and Niall he was attending to business out of town. Niall looked at him suspiciously and he felt bad lying to the sweet girl but he...he wanted to...well he didn’t even know what he wanted. He just wanted to know what her parents were like.  There were many people there. He was surprised that they still had friends after cutting off their sweet daughter. But Harry was trying his best not to judge their mourning.

He saw Louis and Eleanor there gently consoling her mother without it truly reaching their eyes. Louis saw Harry at the edge of the mourners at the cemetery, he gave him a succinct nod and then tilted his head discreetly to the right.

When everyone left, he headed to where Louis gestured, totally alone.

He read the dates on the stone, did the math, and he sighed. “I’ll do anything for her,” he knelt and pulled some weeds away from the flowers laid there. Quietly to her brother’s grave, he whispered “I promise.”

*

Monday

Now seemed like it was too late to tell her anything about the good news. She had seemed off all evening. Maybe it was the stress of graduation and her internship. The office had been so busy lately they hardly had a moment to have tea in the afternoon.

It was his own fault, however. When all said and done.

Now, he was walking her home from dinner. Well, actually, he was nearly running after her. She refused to get in the car. Despite how late it was. So, Harry followed her on foot. She was fast, even in the little heels she wore. The driver was close behind on their trail as well.

“I didn’t ask for you to do that!” She snapped at him. She never snapped at him. Not once. And there were plenty of times she could have over the last eight and a half months. But he thought he was being helpful. Figuring out the stuff with her mum, finding a way to finally split Niall’s position. All of it.

He thought things were going so well and even with the end of her internship coming up at the end of the next month, he was so hopeful for their future in so many ways. He didn’t really know what went wrong. He kept the conversation light trying to figure out her slightly soured mood. It didn’t seem completely fair, but he was heartbroken that he made her upset.

But it was the email that was the final straw. She received it in the middle of dinner. Mr. Malik stated there must have been miscommunication as she would be staying with Styles Incorporated. He would love to have her, feel free to apply in the future if so needed, but of course, she should stay where she’s comfortable.

Harry was in mid-conversation with the waiter, ordering dessert. Something she was reallylooking forward to when she read through the email. But the second she finished it she was angry and didn’t want dessert. She called Niall quickly, while Harry was still chatting, holding one finger up as she put her phone to her ear.

He winked at her, continuing his conversation and didn’t mind at all whether she was using her phone nor questioning it. He’d done so many times before and she was always so kind and patient about it. If he did question it, so shortly after the email, maybe he would have seen it coming. But he didn’t...he didn’t see it coming at all. “Did you...talk to Mr. Malik?” She asked him when Niall answered.

“No, darling, I haven’t heard from him or...or anyone yet about your applic—”

“Never mind,” she hung up. The second she uttered the name of another company Harry’s voice died in the conversation he was having, and he directed his attention to her.

“Did you?” She asked, point blank.

“Yes,” he said. “I told him you would be a perfect fit.”

She blinked. “Then why does he think I’m staying at Styles Incorporated?”

Harry frowned. “Don’t you want to?”

She wasn’t going to lie. “I mean...yes...but don’t you think you should have told me you were going to hire me before—”

“I just figured—"

“Harry...I’ve been rejected or ghosted from everywhere I applied to. I’ve been crying to Niall so stressed and anxious that I’m not good enough and—have you been telling everyone in the area?”

“You’ve been crying about—?”

“Harry,” she snapped.

He was surprised by her tone. “Of course...I want t’keep you,” he whispered.

“Well, what if I can’t,” her voice cracked, her hand fiddling with her silverware on the plate.

“What are y’talking about? Of course, y’can,” he said quickly reaching across the table for her hand but she pulled it back. “Kitten.”

“I don’t want dessert,” she said and stood up and marched out of the restaurant. He hurried to throw money on the table and follow after her.

When they made it to her apartment building, she was huffing. She was angry the entire way there not listening to Harry call after her, not stopping even though he begged. Harry felt like he was losing her with every step. When they reached her door, he tried again to console her as best he could. “Love, I just wanted to hel—”

“I know you feel entitled to everything I am and do because of what we are, but I didn’t ask you to do any of that! Stay out of my business.”

“Kitten,” Harry felt crushed, like she stole all the air out of her lungs.

“I know you told Louis and Eleanor about my graduation ceremony, and I let it slide... because part of me is hoping they forget that it’s in two weeks because right now, I don’t want to go. It hurts to think about my brother’s ceremony—the last time we were a family. And I know you had your lawyers talking to my mom because she called me today all up and arms about how I’m selfish to even take what she’s giving me and of course I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. I thought it was a prank,” Harry was silent as he listened. “I know you have your driver follow me around whenever I’m out walking. Not even at night,” still quiet. But he dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her. It did sound controlling when she was so angry. “On top of all that, I hadn’t gotten any notice about my student loans so I called my servicer to inquire. And guess what?”

Harry’s lips pressed together. He didn’t say a word. Because of course he already knew why she didn’t get any info about her loans. “Now this? Harry, I’ve worked my butt off to do this on my own and you just...told every company within a twenty-mile radius that I’m staying, and I didn’t even get to know that I could do it on my own? That all my hard work and all those hard things I had to face on my own just meant nothing? I thought I failed so miserably.” She was crying so hard, and she wished she wasn’t but every time she felt anger coursing through her it was an unfortunate consequence. Harry just wanted to console her and make it stop. He felt so terrible.

Every day she showed up to work and made everyone’s life so much easier. She baked brownies for the breakroom, made copies for anyone that asked because she was the only one who could stop it from jamming, and of course she went out every day, snow, sleet, hail, or rain to get himself and Niall their Starbucks order. She took care of him when he was sick and saved such a large chunk of his company, he could never repay her. All he wanted to do was help her the way she helped everyone else.

“Love,” he whispered reaching for her. She stepped out of his way.

“Just go,” she snapped as she slammed the door shut in his face. His heart felt broken, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Because as always, she was right. He just...did everything for her because he could. Really because he wanted to, but he should have at least asked.

He could hear the sniffles and her tears through the door. He waited a minute listening to her gasping breath hoping something in his head would click. Something would appear in his mind that he could say to her. But in times like this, it was usually her that knew what to do. So of course, he couldn’t ask her. As he turned to leave, he heard her croaked voice whispering Louis’ name into the phone.

--

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[idyllicdrop]

fridays - second touch. | child! fushiguro megumi / child! nanami’s sister! reader

- content - y/n and megumi have become quite familiar with each other. gojo makes a discovery, and nanami is in denial. (~1.6k wc)

- cw - gojo; the tooth fairy/inaccurate culture; slightly ooc teen nanami?; megumi gets a bit overwhelmed; not proofread.

- 2/6 - previous - next (wip) - full series (in progress) -

- - -

“too slow!”

with a hard thud, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer once again tripped over a child that stood at not even half his height. gojo could only point and let out a nasally laugh at the fallen, young megumi fushiguro,

“shut it,” megumi dejectedly mumbled, quickly moving to get up off the ground, “you said i was improving last time”

“hmm…” the mentor’s voice went an octave lower as he continued, “and i used that exact same maneuver last time.”

megumi did not dare to say a word now. it seemed like gojo was genuinely scolding him - a first since they’ve started training. the young boy almost wanted to get angry since gojo’s most recent disappearances played part in this delay, just almost. megumi figured it was actually good to know gojo was getting serious instead of-

“you’re distracted~”

that sing-songy tone made megumi lose all hope; it was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. it seemed gojo actually isn’t taking things seriously. rather, he was planning to do something truly irritating to his mentee’s livelihood.

- -

“gojo-san left again?! that’s the third time this month!”

you stared in disbelief at megumi, who just arrived to your brother’s desk and opened up a familiar red notebook,

“it’s like this every month.”

megumi seemed to pay you no mind in favor of focusing on his homework. in reality, he couldn’t stand to say more words than necessary to you. otherwise, that ‘panic’ feeling from 4 weeks ago comes back, which he would rather avoid. especially in front of nanami, someone who megumi respected and was silently filling out paperwork across from you two.

“really?! when do you ever have time to train then?”

“he’s normally more free on saturdays.”

“oh! i seee…” your genuine curiosity was something he could easily entertain. the questions you posed were mostly direct enough to give a quick answer.

“are you sure you’re okay with going alll the way to saitama by yourself today?”

your concerned expression, and memories from a week ago caused megumi’s face heat up now: memories of you being awfully persistent about joining him on his almost hour long journey home, which while nanami disapproved of for your safety, megumi also declined because he’s ‘done it many times before.’ the odds were up against you, and ultimately you settled with walking him to the torii gates of jujutsu tech and ‘no further’ - a request he personally made.

“i-i’m sure.”

“but fushiguro-san, doesn’t the train at least get boring??”

the palms of megumi’s hands began to perspirate, and he realized he may have been too active in the conversation today. he was sure that if he attempted to reply to your question, his words would trip and stumble. while the young boy was mentally deciding if he should take that risk, the worst voice of all called out from behind,

“megumi-chan~ time to get to work!”

you gasped, stood up, and sped walked out of megumi’s field of view to greet the face you were long due of seeing,

“gojo-san!”

“y/n-chan!”

standing right before the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the modern era, your head cranked up as you pointed to your mouth,

“i lost another tooth!”

“ooo, well remind the tooth fairy to pay her dues!”

“that’s what i’m doing right now.”

nanami and gojo stiffened as the latter awkwardly continued,

“oh- uh… megumi!” the targeted young boy finally tilted his head in his mentor’s direction, “you need to be at the north field in 5 or i’ll tell y/n about your biggest secret!”

“ehh?!”

gojo’s deflection skills worked like a charm. you stood there dazed, thinking about whatever megumi's secret could be, which allowed nanami and gojo to not confront the fact that you found out the 'tooth fairy' was just gojo. another thing that crossed your mind was the cruelty of gojo for putting megumi on the spot like that.

megumi, who was now swiftly walking out the office area, kept his head turned down. his messy black hair over his face was purposefully obscured from the visible spectrum, but a certain six-eyes user could see beyond that.

“bye fushiguro-san!” you called out to your friend, not particularly expecting a response. as soon as he seemed out of earshot, you pouted at gojo and accused, “that was mean.”

“oh c’mon, aren’t you curious?”

“nope! if fushiguro-san has secrets he wants to keep, then there’s no reason for me to know if he doesn’t want me to!”

gojo let out an exaggerated sigh as he crouched down, quickly pulled something out of his pocket, and then discretely extended a crisp note out to you before whispering,

“just go get yourself some treats before nanami notices.”

“yay!”

you giggled, purposefully breaking the intended secrecy of the exchange. before nanami could say anything, you sped walk away, knowing your favorite vending machine was just outside the building. from a distance, you called out, “you are forgiven now, gojo-san!”

“gojo-san, i already told you not to give her sweets,” leaning back in his desk chair, nanami stared up at the ceiling while pinching the bridge of his nose and saying, “it’s not healthy for a child.”

“well if you’re so concerned about her than you should be interested in little megumi’s secret!”

“no i should not.” nanami immediately recognized gojo’s redirection tactics and tried to go straight back to the topic at hand, “please just do not give her-“

“megumi-chan’s got a crush on your sister~”

this time, gojo was successful. visible confusion filled nanami's expression right after. the blonde teenage paused for a moment to consider gojo's statement, before he then tiredly responded,

“they’re kids, gojo-san.”

“and one’s in love~”

“fushiguro is eight.”

gojo clicked his tongue and placed a hand on his hip before quipping back,

“you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed the signs!” gojo's other hand was now dramatically placed on his heart as he continued, “little megumi is always willing to talk to her. do you have any idea how hard it is to get him to talk to me??”

nanami sighed before noting, “that is not exactly an exclusive experience when it comes to you.”

“not to mention, he gets all red like a tomato around her!”

that nanami didn’t know how to reason away when gojo initially acknowledged it. he’s no doubt noticed, but also just never thought much of it...

“fushiguro doesn’t seem to have many friends…” nanami's new train of thought allowed him to regain composure, “especially of his own age. y/n is the only one around and they just started being friends. it makes sense if he gets nervous sometimes.”

with a cheeky smile, gojo turned around and started heading out, “i’m now 6 minutes late to training because of you! also, don’t get mad at me when the love birds start sneaking around behind your back!”

with renewed reassurance in his own stance, nanami easily brushed off gojo’s claims, and went back to paperwork.

- -

next friday, gojo satoru was called away, again.

“no homework today.”

you forcefully shut the red notebook before megumi could even fully open it. as he stood in momentary shock, you continued,

“gojo-san told me you haven’t seen the whole campus yet, so today i’m gonna show you around!”

that’s how the two of you ended up sitting by a koi pond, alone. most of the tour had been dead silent on megumi’s part. besides pointing out the names of different buildings, you talked nonstop about memories you’ve had around campus with other jujutsu sorcerers, students, and staff. you have had far more interactions with them in all of your brief and few visits over the years, compared to megumi's constant and prolonged ones these last couple of months. the dichotomy was telling of your different personalities.

the almost two hour walk around campus ended at your favorite spot: a koi pond. it was rather secluded and brought utmost peace. you ceased to speak for a few minutes when you arrived, simply enjoying the scent of fresh water and clean bamboo stalks. save for a buzzing bug here and a small splash from one of the fish there, a comfortable silence held the two of you now resting on a bench-shaped rock.

“i love it here.”

your interruption gave megumi awareness of the situation. you two were alone, quiet, and that felt comfortable to him, for a few fleeting moments. but then, that one panicked feeling was now slowly creeping - a contrast to its usually violent arrival. you continued in a soft tone,

“nii-san said this is the most beautiful place on campus.”

beautiful. something about that one word caught megumi’s attention. especially as he had the courage to now look at your tranquil expression, noticing your pupils constantly shifting as they tracked a koi swimming down below. all of a sudden, a conspicuous smile stretched across your face before you blurted out,

“y’know you can say something if you want, right?”

little fushiguro megumi immediately felt a lump lodged in his throat as he froze and stammered,

“um, i…”

the two of you were unknowing that a pair of teenage boys were now approaching your direction. one with a permanently plastered grin and the other with furrowed and tight eyebrows. the latter asked,

“was there even a point in asking me to help you find them if you already knew where they were?”

gojo only playfully hummed in approval as the two rounded the last corner to their destination. from the beginning of the small path leading to the pond, they could see the two children they were looking for. the two were sitting side by side, separated by only a couple inches of empty space.

one was stuck gazing at the other, mouth slightly dropped open, and the young boy spoke just loud enough for the girl beside him to hear,

“i-i like it here too.”

the teens observed that after megumi’s mouth finished moving, y/n’s posture perked up and she turned her head towards him. in the process, she noticed the audience out of the corner of her eye, and made a point to lean in, hand resting in the space between them, finger tips slightly grazing his before she whispered,

“i like being here with you, fushiguro-san.”

- - -

- the tooth fairy cw was mostly bc i didn’t think to look up if japan even has a tooth fairy child’s myth until after i already wrote the scene (and i love said scene very much). anyways, apparently they do not. whoops, my bad.

- also, in my mind, y/n uses gojo-san not to specifically respect gojo, but to mimic nanami :)

- also this is the last of them as little kids! megumi’s ‘troublemaker’ teen era is next.

- taglist - @hisheadismountfuji (feel free to ask to be added!)

[drewsbuzzcut]

A Silver Lining In Ann Arbor

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes blurb

warnings: uncomfortable situation, a guy being pushy, alcohol consumption, and i think that’s all, but let me know if i missed anything

Blaring music pounds against the walls and reverberates in Dallas’ ears. It’s not that she didn’t want to come, because she did, but now she’s over the party that’s going on.

The girl walks to the kitchen, hoping to find some water to settle the couple of beers that she did have.

“Dallas, right?”

She hears someone from behind her ask, making her jump away from where she was rummaging through. She turns to make eye contact with the frat boy who looks like he’s been drinking way too much.

“Um… yes,” Dallas answers hesitantly.

“Let me make you a drink,” he says, walking closer to where she is.

Dallas fiddles with her fingers, not looking at the guy, and trying to figure out how she can leave within the next minute.

“No, thank you,” she’s about to turn around but his words keep her from leaving.

“I’m going to make you a drink.”

“I said no.” She reminds the boy.

“And I said I’m going to make you one, so you’re going to stay here and drink it.”

She starts to feel the panic spread through her body, feet feeling like they’re stuck in quicksand, not letting her move. Dallas makes a few stumbles backwards, running into someone’s body. She feels a set of hands land on her hips, but right away she can tell that their presence is calming, unlike the boy in front of her.

“She said no!” The boy behind her says, voice full of warning and maybe even daring.

“Whatever. She’s a bitch anyway,” the boy mutters, walking away, thankfully.

Dallas’ body deflates in relief, finally turning around to see the guy who saved her. She’s met with a tall guy with pretty eyes and pretty hair.

“Are you okay?” The boy asks.

“Yeah. Sorry, I think I just need a second to process what just happened. Um… thank you so much for coming to my rescue,” she blurts out, eyes widening at how fast the words were flying out her mouth.

“It’s really no problem. No guy should act that way towards anyone let alone a girl.”

She nods her head in agreement, taking a few deep breaths and trying to clear her mind.

“I should probably get home. Thank you again,” she says, walking away.

“Wait!” The guy blurts out, trailing behind her.

“Yeah?” She asks hesitantly, cautious of anyone else trying to force her into something she didn’t want to do.

“Do you have a ride?”

“No, I’m walking.”

“It’s kind of late to walk home by yourself. Can I walk you?” The guy asks, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in nervousness.

“Um…”

“I promise I’m not a creep or anything like that,” he reassures her.

“I don’t want to pull you away from the party,” she responds.

“I wasn’t having fun anyways. Oh! I’m Nick,” he introduces himself to the girl.

She smiles, thinking of her older brother when she hears that they have the same name.

“I’m Dallas,” she introduces herself.

“Dallas. I don’t think I’ve met a girl with that name before.”

“Good! I’m special,” she teases.

As they walk to Dallas’ dorm building, they go back and forth with asking each other questions, getting to know each other without even realizing it.

“How do you not believe in aliens?” Nick shouts and Dallas giggles, reaching up to cover his mouth with her hands.

“I don’t know. Maybe you need to make a believer out of me,” she says, a casual lilt to her voice even though she’s attempting to flirt.

“Maybe I do.”

“This is me! The walk went by really fast, and I had a really good time talking with you,” she whispers, the quietness around them setting in.

“I had a good time, too. Maybe we can do it again, say this Friday coming up at 5pm?” He asks, lips quirked up into a cute smile.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you on Friday, Nick. We should probably exchange phone numbers, though. Um… you know so you can let me know that you got home safe, and so we can communicate about Friday,” she rambled. Nick finds it endearing and very attractive.

After they exchange numbers they exchange quick hugs and Nick even pressed a chaste kiss to Dallas’ cheek. She’s left with burning, flushed cheeks and a heart that beats a little bit faster.

a/n: First part, finally!!! It’s a little boring, but it’ll get better (hopefully) in the next part. Enjoy!

[flieslikeamoron]

Hi! For the first sentence game:

"You want to try that again?" he asks.

Sorry this took a while, but it turned into a whole thing. This is like 2.5K. Not really explicit, but there are some boners and stuff of that nature.

---

“You want to try that again?” he asks.

“I don’t need your pity,” Steve says sourly. “I’ll take my stupid three.”

“It’s not pity.” Eddie laughs and waves a hand, generous as a king. “You have advantage.” 

“You get to roll twice,” Dustin says. “And take the highest.”

“I know what advantage is, dipshit.” Steve rolls his eyes as the number comes up.  “A whole seven.” He makes a whoop-di-doo motion with his finger.

“Your persuasion check fails.” Eddie leans forward threateningly over the screen in front of him. “The guard rings the alarm bell.” A chorus of groans rise around the table. Eddie grins, shifting into the growling scream of a wrestling announcer. “Rrrrolll for initiative.”

___

Steve comes out of the kitchen with a garbage bag in his hand after the kids have all gone. The little shits leave a disaster area of junk everywhere they go: half eaten pizza crusts, scribbled notes, mysterious piles of crumbs that don’t look like anything Eddie actually saw them eat. Steve reaches across the table to pick up a paper plate. He ditched his sweater halfway through the game, a bit of chest hair peeking out of the V of his polo. Eddie blinks and looks away. He sweeps all the miniatures off the table into his old ammo box with a clatter. 

Steve sets the garbage bag down and snatches the box from Eddie’s hand. He glares at Eddie and starts organizing the haphazard jumble. “Come on, man. There’s a system.”

“I have my own system. It’s called not having OCD.”

“It’s called not being able to find the ones you need next week.”

“What are you, alphabetizing them?”

“Like I know their names,” Steve scoffs, holding up a furry, long-fanged monster. 

“Bugbear,” Eddie says.

“Nerd,” Steve says fondly. Like he didn’t spend four hours at the table tonight. Lately Steve has become, if not a weekly player, at least a recurring guest star. He likes to gripe and act like it’s such a chore. Like he’s doing Dustin a favor. Or humoring Eddie. Being supportive of his nerdy-ass hobbies. Giving up his oh so busy Friday night.

Eddie knows better. If he really hated it, he wouldn’t play. If he really hated it, he wouldn’t keep his character sheet updated. Wouldn’t cover the back with careful notes of the names of each NPC the party meets, bits of lore. 

No, Eddie is onto him. Steve gets pushy about his XP in that competitive jock way he has about him. Just as excited about beating one of Eddie’s traps or monsters as the kids. That lit up glint in his eye every time he reminds Eddie he’s immune to charm or poison, like he’s getting one over on him. He’s having fun. And Eddie-

Well.

Eddie came to terms with the fact that he’s horny for his straight roommate long ago. That maybe he even has a fucked up little crush on the guy. But the really fucked up thing is Steve spends a pretty significant amount of time sweaty and shirtless around Eddie, and watching him total up his damage, not forgetting to add his bonuses, is somehow hotter. 

Steve glances up from the minis. Whatever’s on Eddie’s face must be a doozy because his eyebrows knit together briefly. But then he smiles. God. The way a smile looks on him. He starts talking about the stat boost he’s going to get when he levels up. He talks about it like he’s been borrowing Eddie��s Player’s Manual on the sly. Hair drooping down over his forehead and that smile on his face and that polo tight against his chest. Eddie wants to jump his bones so bad, it feels like someone punching him in the dick. But in a good way.

“I could put it into strength or charisma,” Steve is saying. “I was thinking charisma, so I could get that plus two.”

“That’d almost catch you up to real life.”

“You think I have a plus three to charisma?” Steve cocks his head, half smiling, half curious. Like he’s trying to figure out if that was a joke or an actual compliment. This is where things get dangerous. Being around him makes Eddie feel almost feverish: too hot, fuzzy headed, all wound up with wanting shit he can’t have. And he’s around him all the time. 

The problem with Steve is he doesn’t act like any straight guy Eddie’s ever known. Most straight guys treat Eddie kind of like he’s contagious. Not making a big deal, just… Leaving space. It’s fine that you’re gay, but don’t touch me. It’s fine, but don’t put it in my face. Don’t make it too real. It’s fine, but- It’s the kind of thing that makes Eddie want to push. Get up in a guy’s space, press right against that uncomfortable but. It’s almost a game. Pretty dangerous game, he knows that. Poking at the violence most guys have in them. But Eddie likes the fuck you of it, the little bit of fear in that step they take back when he gets too close. 

Steve though- Steve doesn’t back down from anything. Not monsters, not an argument, not even a guy hitting on him. No matter how hard Eddie pushes, he hasn’t found anything that can make Steve blink, take a step back. When Eddie leans into his space, expecting him to flinch, he just slings an arm around Eddie to pull him in even closer. If he touches Steve, Steve touches him back. And Eddie can say the most insane shit. Flirty shit, blatant shit. Steve just plays along. Like it’s all good fun. 

Is it really Eddie’s fault if he forgets himself sometimes? Starts running his mouth way too close to the truth? What is Eddie supposed to do when Steve takes all Eddie’s big boys and sweethearts with a pleased smile? What is Eddie supposed to do with the way Steve sprawls out on the couch after a date? Lays his head in Eddie’s lap and plays with Eddie’s rings while he talks about whether this girl gave good head or why he doesn’t think that girl will work out. 

This is the kind of shit he’s dealing with, okay? Just the other day Steve came out of the bathroom, nothing but a towel around his waist. And Eddie leaned in to smell him. Look, he’s very aware of how weird that was. But he’d been half asleep, and he’d just- He hadn’t been thinking. It happens kind of a lot with Eddie, actually. He doesn’t think. Maybe that’s why Steve didn’t step back, or give him a well deserved push. Didn’t even look at him funny for doing something objectively weird. Objectively fucked up. He laughed and yanked Eddie in until his nose was squashed into the warm curve of Steve’s armpit. Steve’s hand wide on the back of Eddie’s head as he pushed Eddie’s face in there, tight. 

“Take a big whiff,” he said, like he didn’t care that Eddie was pressed up against his bare skin, body to body with Eddie’s hand curving around his waist, brushing against his back. Like he didn’t care that Eddie’s hard dick was obvious against his thigh. 

When he let Eddie go, his gaze flicked down to Eddie’s boner. Just as obvious. Making sure Eddie knew he’d noticed it. A teasing lilt to his voice as he said, “Bathroom’s all yours.” Practically inviting Eddie to jerk off. Practically inviting Eddie to think about him while he did it. And Eddie did. Not for the first time, or the last. 

What is he supposed to do with any of that except want Steve even more? Sometimes he wishes Steve was just a little less- Cool with it. Not that he wants Steve to look at him with that “It’s fine, but-” on his face. It would be easier though, in a way. If Steve didn’t let him get so close. Didn’t let him press his grubby face up against the glass, so close to what he wants it’s hard to remember he can’t have it. 

Steve turns to Eddie with his fist propped under his chin. “Tell me about my charms,” he says. “What is it about me exactly that makes me so damn charismatic?” Voice playful, flirty. Dangerous. 

If there’s one thing Eddie knows how to do, it’s bluff. Hey, just joking. You can take a joke, right? “That face, mostly,” he says, putting a palm right into it, pushing Steve away with his cheek turned. Steve lets Eddie move him with an easy laugh. “And your modesty, obviously.”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, still laughing. He moves farther down the table to dump another plate in the garbage bag. He reaches over to gather up a few dice, pausing over the blue one he used during the game. He holds it up, turning it between his thumb and forefinger. He looks over at Eddie, his dark eyes catching Eddie’s. Catching Eddie staring. Eddie quickly busies himself with rolling up his battle map. 

“I don’t think I had a single roll over ten all night.” Steve gives the die a toss down the length of the table, flailing a hand as it comes up a four. “I think it’s weighted.” 

Eddie snorts. “It isn’t.”

“You gave me a weighted die. You’re a goddamn cheater.” He hides a grin behind the accusation, but Eddie plays along as if he’s serious. Who’s Eddie kidding? Half the fights they’ve had, Eddie picked on purpose just because it was fun. Riling each other up for the hell of it.  

“I’m not,” he says. “I’ll prove it.” He plucks the die off the table and shakes it in his hand. “If I roll above a ten, you have to clean up this mess.”

Steve glares, flapping the garbage bag in his hands around in front of him like a matador cape. Annoyance is his second hottest look, in Eddie’s expert opinion. Indignant color on his cheeks, eyes bright. Eddie wants to bite the petulance on his lip. “I’m already cleaning it up.”

“Yeah, but I’m helping you,” Eddie says. “You have to do it by yourself if I win.”

“Doesn’t sound like I have much to lose.”

“Shut up, I’m helping.” Eddie performatively drops a plastic cup in Steve’s bag with a bow.

“That cup wasn’t empty,” Steve huffs. “How many times do I have to tell you to dump it in the sink first. Now it’s going to leak probably and I’ll have to…” Eddie tunes the rest out. Steve’s right, he has heard it before. He rolls the die down the table with a flourish, holding up a finger in Steve’s direction like “wait a sec” and watching as it lands on a fifteen.

“Not a cheater,” he said triumphantly. “And not helping anymore.”

“One good roll doesn’t prove if it’s weighted or not. It’s about the patterns.” Steve rolls again. A two. He motions to it with attitude in the sweep of his hand.

“Fine,” Eddie says. “I’ll go again. How about I roll above a ten two more times, or hey, let’s make it three, if you really want a pattern. If I win, you have to do my laundry.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Like you’ll follow through if I win.” 

Eddie places a dramatic hand on his heart, his voice going shocked. “You’ve besmirched my honor.” 

Steve breaks, a laugh cutting through his frown. He gives Eddie a skeptical “go ahead then” tilt of his chin. Eddie rolls. An eleven. He walks backward from one end of the table to the other, to pick up the die where it landed. Makes sure to bump into Steve as he passes. “Pardon me, big boy,” he says sweetly. Steve pushes him into a stumble, but he turns sharply like a flamenco dancer. Arm coming up above his head as he slings the die back down the table. Seventeen. A shit eating grin. Another walk down to the end of the table. Another bump. He can feel the daggers Steve is glaring at him itching hot between his shoulder blades. He tosses the last roll over his shoulder without looking. 

“Blow me,” Steve mutters. Eddie turns to see the thirteen on the die. Steve’s delicious, disgruntled face. Grumpy is such a good look on him.

“If you roll under a ten again, I will.” 

Steve’s eyebrows rise. 

Jesus Christ, Eddie needs to wire his goddamn jaw shut. Steve hesitates on the edge of a laugh. It was a joke. Obviously. Whether it started out there or not, Eddie will make it a joke. But there’s something about the way Steve is caught on the edge of not sure if Eddie was kidding.

Eddie can’t resist a little push. He flashes his teeth. “Scared of a blowjob?”

“You’re serious?” Steve says cautiously.

“Why not?” Eddie shrugs. “It’s just sucking dick. I like dick.”

“Yeah…” Steve says. “But it’s… My dick.” 

Like Eddie hasn’t lovingly built a shrine to Steve’s dick in his mind. Like he doesn’t prostrate himself before it basically every time he jerks off. Eddie’s hard as shit right now, his whole body tight with wanting, his blood fizzing, just because Steve hasn’t shut him down yet. Can’t he feel how desperate Eddie is for him? It feels like it’s pouring off him in waves, like ripples of heat off asphalt in the summer. 

“Or it’s your mouth.” Eddie’s smile goes sharp. Just a little push. “If you lose.” 

Steve flushes, his eyes huge. “You would want that?” 

Jesus. Why hasn’t Steve shut him down? Why is he still playing along? It isn’t too late. Eddie can still play it off as a joke. But the way Steve’s looking at him- Steve doesn’t back down. Not from monsters, not from a dare. Would he really… Maybe he would actually let Eddie do it. “And then what?” the small rational part of him that tries to keep him from fucking himself over asks. He pays just as much attention to it now as he ever does.

“I’ll make it easy on you,” Eddie says. “You roll low, just like you have every roll tonight. You can have advantage, even. Triple advantage. Three chances. Get one roll ten or lower. I’ll give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.” It’s not so much a bet anymore, as an offer. Eddie begging behind the thinnest pretense. Please, please let me suck your dick.

Steve still hasn’t said no. He stands there with the die in his hand instead of telling Eddie to fuck off. Looking at Eddie so close, this heavy, searching gaze that makes Eddie feel like he’s one snarled knot of heat from his throat to his balls. Steve notices Eddie’s hard-on, that heavy gaze lingering for a long second. He’s still looking at Eddie as he throws the die. Eddie can’t quite bring himself to look away, listening to the rattle of it until it stops. 

Eddie has to look. Has to know. 

A nineteen. 

Fuck. He looks back at Steve. “You want to try that again?”

Steve is bright red as he shakes his head no, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. There’s no hesitation in him now. He keeps his eyes on Eddie, as he sinks down to his knees. 

---

These have been helping me get back into a writing habit, so I’ll keep it open if anyone else wants to play. The original rules of the game are you leave an ask with the first sentence of a fic, and I’ll write the next five sentences. But the rules I made up are I just write as much as I want. Five sentences minimum though.

[immeasurablesaladagere]

ur doing gods work for the house md agere community we salute u 🫡 can we please get a little!chase fic w/ cg!wilson ?

Lil Chase, my beloved. Little content warning for Chase's backstory and his feelings about it, this one's a bit angsty, but happy ending with cg Wilson fluff to make the medicine go down :)

*pats head of Chase* This kid can fit so many mommy issues.

-----

Word Count: 1983

Summery: Wilson gets a call from Chase after-hours. He needs a pickup from a bar after his regression is triggered by something that reminds him of his past, and he's unable to get himself home.

-----

Just as Wilson was about to sit down on the couch to enjoy a night of pizza, beer, and watching the game, his phone rang. He groaned. So close.

“Popular with the babes, are we?.” House said, mouth full of pizza and distracted by football.

“It’s probably work. I can’t just have one night to myself, can I?” He grumbled, fishing his phone out from his coat pocket. He liked to keep it out of sight when he was off work, but it always came back to haunt him anyway.

“Cancer babes then, even better.”

“Cancer babes? God, you’re terrible.” It amazed him sometimes just how often House came up with new ways to violate the most basic forms of decency. After over a decade of friendship he figured he would be desensitized to it by now. As much as he wanted to let the phone ring out, he knew that if it was the hospital he needed to pick up, so he answered it. “Hello, this is James Wilson?”

The other end of the line was filled with background noise. “Hey Wilson, it’s Chase.”

Huh. Chase wasn’t working that night, as far as he knew, and it didn’t sound like he was in the hospital. Maybe it wasn’t a work call after all? 

“To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you looking for House?” He didn’t think he remembered House’s phone going off, but maybe he had put it on do-not-disturb to avoid talking to people. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Uh… No, not— Well, kind of. I um… Could you pick me up from the bar?” Chase’s voice was strange and unsteady, almost lost to the noise that Wilson now knew was rowdy-bar ambiance. Wilson’s confusion must have shown on his face, because House raised a curious eyebrow at him from the couch.

“Who is it?”

Chase, he mouthed silently. “I… guess so? Can’t you call a taxi?”

There was a bit of shuffling before he responded. “No.” He didn’t elaborate any further.

“And why not?”

“Because I…” Chase made a choked sound that sounded almost like a whine, “Because I’m kinda regressing and I-I can’t—“ His voice was wavering, “I just need to go home. Please.”

Oh. There was no way Chase would choose to regress in a bar which meant it had been triggered somehow, and a bar was probably the worst place Chase could be if he was little.

“Oh yeah, okay. Okay. I’ll come get you.” He grabbed his coat and tugged it on, “Are you in a safe place right now?”

“…Think so, I’m in a booth by myself. I wanna go home.”

“I know you do, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Which bar?”

“Milly’s.”

It wasn’t far. He could probably get there in twenty minutes, maybe fifteen if he drove quickly. “Okay. Stay where you are, I’ll come find you. Try to stay big until I get there, alright?”

“Okay…”

He hung up and grabbed his keys from the bowl on the entry table. 

House paused the TV. “One of the ducklings?” He asked with a knowing look.

“Something set Chase off and he’s regressed at a bar. I’m going to pick him up.” He tugged on his shoes.

“And let me guess, we’re babysitting tonight, then?”

“I’m not just going to leave him at his apartment by himself, House.”

House nodded and stood up, grabbing the unopened beer bottles with his free hand. “I didn’t think you would. I’ll get rid of these, go get the kid.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

-

He managed to make it to Milly’s without a speeding ticket. It was a Friday night, so he wasn’t surprised to see that that bar was packed, overflowing out the front doors as drunk college students stumbled in and out. He could hear the obnoxiously loud music from outside, and air inside was stuffy and smelled like weed. He sure was a long way from his partying days… God he felt old. He pushed his way to the back of the bar, scanning for Chase until he eventually he spotted his blonde hair tucked into the corner of one of the furthest booths where the crowd had thinned to old men drinking alone.

Chase didn’t look great. He was hunched over and looking around anxiously, but he also didn’t look entirely present. Something had obviously scared him, but he would have to wait to find out what.

Wilson approached the booth slowly. “Chase?” He had to shout to overpower the volume of the bar, but he tried to make it as unthreatening as possible.

The second Chase recognized him, he shot up out of his seat and instantly latched onto his jacket sleeve. “Wanna go.” He said urgently. 

He refused to make eye contact, staring hard at the floor, and he clung to Wilson’s back the entire walk back out to the car. It took some light prompting to get him to let go, but once he did Wilson guided him into the passenger seat and buckled him in before getting in himself.

It was painfully silent as they pulled away from the bar and started back towards his and House’s apartment. Wilson’s mind was whirring with questions and possible scenarios that could’ve lead Chase to this. It was unsettling to see a little who was usually happy and sweet reduced to staring blankly out the passenger window. But Chase would talk if he was ready, he reminded himself.

After a few minutes Chase seemed to rouse slightly, taking notice of their surroundings. “Where are we going?” He asked quietly. His voice was high-pitched and soft, a tell-tale sign that he was regressed completely.

“I’m taking you back to mine and House’s place. We’re going to look after you tonight, is that alright?”

“Don’t have to, I’ll be okay.” Chase muttered, looking uncomfortable. It was better than staring off into the void.

“I know you will, but it would make me feel better if you stayed with us.” 

Chase seemed to consider this, then shrugged slightly and tucked his knees up to his chest in the seat. “Okay.”

Wilson didn’t have the heart to tell him not to sit like that, so he just let him be. He was about to turn on the radio when Chase spoke again.

“…She looked like Mum.” 

Wilson winced. “Who did, buddy?”

“A lady at the bar. She looked like Mum.” Chase sniffled.

Well, there was his answer. Chase hadn’t disclosed every detail of his past to him and House, but he knew that his mother was a neglectful alcoholic for most of his life. It made sense that seeing someone that looked like her getting drunk at the bar would upset him.

Wilson reached across the centre console and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, rubbing small, comforting circles as best he could while keeping his eyes on the road. He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t like not knowing what to say. Between him and House, it was his job to be good at the “emotional, mushy side”, as House would so-lovingly call it. He was good at comfort, he was good at kind words and fixing boo-boos, but when it came to this… 

“I’m sorry, Robbie...” 

They stayed like that until they drove into the parking lot, and then Chase kept a firm grip on his jacket until they got up to the apartment.

“We’re back!” Wilson called, shutting the door.

House hobbled out from the living room carrying a stack of folded pyjamas with a stuffed dog balanced on top like it was sitting, both from the bin of supplies they kept for situations like this one, and held it out to Chase. “Here. Go change and come back, we’ll find you a movie to watch or something.”

Chase hesitantly took them and silently shuffled off to the bathroom.

“So, what’s wrong with him? Kiddie usually only looks that miserable when he’s an adult.”

Wilson rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “He saw a drunk woman in the bar who looked like his mom, apparently.” He said in a hushed voice, “You should’ve seen him earlier, he was just staring off at nothing.”

He walked to the living room and threw his jacket over the back of the armchair, and to his surprise, the living room was completely different than when he’d left. The alcohol was gone, but it was also slightly cleaner. A small stack of children’s movie DVD’s sat on the coffee table, and there was a small pile of snacks beside them. “Huh. I didn’t think you were so proactive.”

House gasped in mock-offence and sat on the couch. “How dare you? I take my roll as part-time babysitter very seriously.”

“Sure.” 

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a green sippy cup from the cupboard, filling it up with water from the sink. He wasn’t sure how much alcohol Chase had before he called, and even if he didn’t seem drunk a cup of water wouldn’t hurt. When he came back to the living room Chase was sitting on the end of the couch opposite House, wearing the pyjamas and holding the stuffed dog tightly to his chest. Aw.

Wilson handed him the sippy cup and sat down in between them, sifting through the stack of movies. “So, what are we watching?”

“I was just about to ask that myself.” House said, “We have Finding Nemo, all of the Toy Story’s, Lilo and Stitch—“

“Lilo and Stitch.” Chase cut him off, grabbing the case and pushing it into Wilson’s hands, “Can we watch it, please?”

Wilson smiled. “Sure.”

His his credit, Chase made it more than halfway through the movie before he began to doze off, slowly drooping to lean against Wilson. He gently took the sippy cup away before it could spill water all over the couch, and with his hands now free, Chase wrapped both arms back around his dog and nuzzled into it.

“I think someone’s sleepy, don’t you, House?”

House shook his head. “No I’m fine, thanks. Him on the other hand…”

Chase didn’t object at all. His eyes were closed, and as much as it pained him, Wilson knew he would have to get up now if he wanted to sleep in his own bed tonight. He carefully got up and guided Chase to lay down. He only fussed for a moment until Wilson draped a blanket over him, and he settled.

They all had work the next morning and when they all got up, he had no idea if Chase would want to talk about what happened. He probably wouldn’t; Chase was only slightly less emotionally repressed than House was when he was big, but if by some chance he did, Wilson would be there to listen. “Goodnight, Robbie.”

“Mm… G’night, mummy.” Chase mumbled, and with that, he was dead to the world.

Wilson gaped. He was frozen solid, afraid that moving would somehow disturb the moment or make Chase realize what he just said and freak out. Did he really just..?

“Ouch. Well, I guess we know who the favourite is.” House whispered, with a stupid amused smirk on his face. “Mummy Wilson, huh? It’s got a nice ring to it I guess.”

“Did he mean to—? When he wakes up tomorrow he’s…” Wilson trailed off. He was caught between being overjoyed that Chase had put so much trust in him as a caregiver to give him such a deeply important name, and bemoaning that it had to be Mummy of all things. Sweet, innocent Chase had just sentenced him to a lifetime of “Mummy-Wilson” jokes, and somehow his chest was still full of butterflies.

“He’s gonna die of embarrassment? Oh yeah.” House snickered, then yawned, limping off to his room. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Mummy.”

“You’re an ass.”

[with-love-from-hell]

Head-Empty Headcanons

Things they say, think, and do that prove they are a bit air-headed. 

Genre: Headcanons, Comedy

Characters featured: All Obey Me! Characters (yes, even the new ones!)

Whenever Mc is mentioned its unrelated to their gender!

CW: swearing!

A/N: The brain rot is real this morning, and I haven’t done anything super silly in awhile, so here!

Belphegor

The weirdest shit always comes out of his mouth when he’s half awake. 

Will ask the most ridiculous questions when he’s in between naps or when he’s just woken up because his brain is on autopilot, like along the lines of “Do you think pigeons have feelings?” 

Does not look when he crosses the street.

Will literally ask what you said after being annoyed that you asked if he was listening. 

Has drank water while laying down and choked himself. 

Beelzebub

3 balls bopping around his head at all times are Food, Workout, and MC like a game of Pong

Blinks one eye at a time. It’s subtle but he totally does it. 

Has eaten the fortune out of a fortune cookie because he thought that was part of the process of making the fortune come true. 

When told by MC he had to rinse rice before cooking it he asked if he needed to use soap. 

Has eaten whole, raw, potatoes because he thought it would give him protein like eating raw eggs would. 

Asmodeus

He’s pretty; he doesn’t have to be smart.

Once stared frustratingly in the mirror for 15 minutes trying to figure out why the phrase written on his shirt was backwards. 

The first time he dyed his hair, he got mad that it didn’t grow the same color out of his scalp.

Forgets that he owns something and will by numerous duplicates. 

1000% has fallen for MLM scams

Satan

No thought only cat.

You need to watch him like a toddler if you take him to the zoo. He will try to jump into every big cat enclosure. 

Has started fires in his room multiple times because he put candles on top of his books (Seriously dude your room is a fire hazard) but is still clueless as to how it happened.

The first time he saw a racoon he thought it was a rare breed of cat and tried to snuggle it.

Leviathan

Somebody take his screens away. 

Has 100% tried to “Back Space” words when writing physically with pen and paper.

More than once has screamed at a game system for not working when he had just not realized that it was unplugged.

Has definitely run into walls after sitting 2 feet away from his giant TV like a 3 year old. 

Has completely ignored and walked away from people because he is too busy creating a theme music for himself as he’s doing something that he perceives as cool.

Mammon

I think I could never run of ideas for how airheaded this man is, but I’ll go for the abstract ones since there are many that are obvious.

One of those dudes who thinks pee comes out of the vagina. 

Definitely goes down existential rabbit holes because of questions like “Is cereal a soup” or “is a hotdog a sandwich”

Will literally believe anything you tell him if you say it with enough sincerity- even if it’s the most ridiculous thing you could think of. 

100% believes that horror movies like Friday the 13th are based on true events and is convinced that most humans die by serial killers

Lucifer

This man has absolutely done the dumbest shit when he is sleep deprived. 

Will lose things that he is holding in his hands as he’s using them- often it’s his pen or his phone. 

has drank scalding hot coffee because he forgot it was too hot to drink. 

Leaves things in the oven and microwave all the time. Usually Beel finds it and eats it, and he’s none the wiser.

Talks to himself all the time, usually giving reminders to do things or a grocery list, but also will just narrate things. 

 Literally a Golden Retriever.

Diavolo

Holds up his his fingers in an L shape to determine right from left- which never works because he forgets which way an L is supposed to go. 

Will believe pretty much anything you tell him about the human world if you say it with enough conviction.

Constantly doing the most ridiculous things without thinking of the consequences- often times leaving Lucifer or Barbatos to clean up his mess. 

Constantly bothers Mc, Lucifer, and Barbatos when they’re busy- even after just being scolded for being a distraction- because he forgets that they’re doing something and wanted to show them something cool

Barbatos

He’s probably the least ditzy, but even he has his moments.

Walks into the kitchen and forgets why he was going in there. All the time. 

Accidentally goes through all of the Little D’s names before getting the right one- even if he had JUST done the same thing for a different little D

Will step out the door to go somewhere with Lord Diavolo and immediately wonder if he left the Stove on. He will go check, and still wonder if it’s on 5 hours later. 

Mephistopheles

Simp! Simp alert!

Will do anything you tell him if you said “Well, I guess I could go ask Lucifer to do it...” even if its embarrassing or flat-out dangerous lol

Diavolo occupies his brain at all times so he’s often distracted by intense pining for their “friendship” that was totally not a one-way crush. (go listen to “When Somebody Loved Me” from Toy Story 2 lol)

One of those “Um AcTUaLly” bros who is always wrong about the thing they’re correcting you on to an absurd degree. 

Somebody go teach grandpa how to use a computer. 

Simeon

Has definitely given his computer a virus by clicking a popup ad, and also fell for the “Nigerian Prince” emails

“Do you think someone would just go on the internet and tell lies?” 

No seriously he will see some wild conspiracy on Devilgram or Devilbook and be convinced it is real. Lord help him. 

Definitely thinks Boomer memes are funny. Send him a minion, he will laugh his ass off. 

Raphael

Elevator music playing in his brain at all times.

Immediately choses violence as an option every time no matter the circumstances and this is quite literally CANON.

Is always the last to know some secret that isn’t really a secret and is really obvious. 

Will test the sharpness of his spears by jamming them into the ground, and then get mad when he cant yank them back up. 

Luke

Just a poor child trying his best. Someone teach him. 

Probably didn’t know what a chihuahua was when someone first compared him to one but was too embarrassed to admit he didn’t know so he just like. Went with it. Until he found out they are a tiny yippy dog- then he got angy. 

Absolutely believes that babies come from the Stork. 

Thought the “PG” movie rating meant “Pretty Good.”

Solomon

His cooking cant be that bad...can it?

Will throw quite literally anything into a pot when cooking, even if it doesn’t make sense to do so, because he likes to “experiment” 

The first time he sees a fidget spinner he loses his fucking mind. “What is this? It’s spinning! I am in pure bliss!”

Has definitely blown up a classroom at RAD because he snuck in a potion to test out and accidentally dropped it.

Has definitely said some really outdated cringy slang. “Tubular!” “Oh man, so grody!” 

Thirteen

Conspiracy theorist- for sure.

Didn’t believe that Belphie and Beel were twins because they didn’t look alike (she did not know fraternal twins were a thing).

Is convinced that Solomon is an alien. 

Mispronounces words all the time because she rarely talks to others until the exchange program and primarily sees things written (e.g. Fragile as “Fra-gee-lay” and Bologna as “Bow-log-nah”)

Does not test her traps before using them, and gets mad when they don’t work.

[taey0ngsvape]

sweet nothing - bang chan

“all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing”

pairing: bang chanxreader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.5k

contains: chan is overworked, more angsty than intended, but also so fluffy, the l word is used A LOT, kissing

summary: chan hasn’t been home in a while, too busy with work, but when he does, you remind him that you love him.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jisung says, pulling Chan’s chair away from his desk and turning it so he’s facing the door to his studio, which is open for the first time in what feels like years. “You need to take a break,” he insists.

“No I don’t. I have to finish this. It’s supposed to be done by Friday,” Chan says, but he doesn’t even have the energy to pull his chair back to his desk.

“You have three days until then. Take. A. Break.”

When Chan says nothing, Jisung threatens, “I’ll lock you out of the studio.” Chan’s shoulders sag and Jisung’s eyes soften. “I mean this in the best way possible. Go home.”

For a moment, he considers staying. He could force Jisung out, this was his studio. But he’s tired and he’s been stuck on the bridge of this track for three hours. And he misses you. He really misses you.

The last time he was home was almost a week ago. He’s been showering at Changbin’s place since it’s so much closer than your apartment and he sleeps either on his couch or in his studio. He’s texted a few times, but he realizes with a start that he hasn’t called. He hasn’t heard your voice in days.

His heart aches. Sure, you’re used to him not being around all the time, but this makes him feel guilty. He shouldn’t just neglect you like this, no matter how many deadlines he’s facing. 

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

Jisung smiles. “Take care of yourself hyung. Please.”

Chan returns his grin and grabs his bag, pulling out his phone to send you a quick text.

I’m coming home now

He almost says ‘we should talk’ but he doesn’t want to make you nervous. It’s nothing that you’ve done, it’s all him. He owes you an apology.

You don’t reply and he figures you’re probably busy. It’s early evening and he figures you’re probably cuddled up on the couch watching a drama. Without him. 

He probably deserves that.

When he reaches your apartment he lets himself in, setting his bag down gently next to the door and slipping off his shoes before closing the door behind him. The TV is off and he doesn’t see you. For a second, he wonders if you’re even home.

Then he hears soft humming from the kitchen and he smiles to himself. He’s so overwhelmed by his love for you that he has to blink back tears because he feels so guilty for not being here. Yes, his music is important to him, but so are you. He needs to find a good way to balance the two.

He walks across the cool hardwood and into the kitchen, standing in the doorway for a moment and just looking at you as you hum to yourself and stir something on the stove. You’ve changed out of your work clothes and his heart stings when he realizes that you’re wearing his shirt. 

“Baby?” he says quietly, as not to startle you, but it doesn’t matter because you jump anyway and turn to face him quickly. 

For a second the two of you stare at each other and then tears well up in your eyes as you let go of the wooden spoon and cross the kitchen, practically throwing yourself into his arms. He pulls you close, kissing your hair and stroking your cheek. He swallows the lump in his throat. You’re already upset, he doesn’t want to cry and make you feel worse.

You were always so attentive to his feelings to the point where you practically felt his emotions the same as him. If he cried, you cried, and clearly you were already close to the edge. 

“I missed you,” you mumble against his neck. “So much.”

“I missed you too,” he says instantly. “I’m sorry.” He hugs you a little closer. “I’m so sorry.”

You pull back to look up at him and his eyes are full of guilt. “I shouldn’t have just… disappeared like that. It was unfair of me. I’m sorry I didn’t come home or call. I barely even texted. I’m just… I’m sorry. And you don’t have to forgive me, but I wanted to apologize.”

You offer him a small smile. “Thank you for your apology.”

“How can I make it up to you?” he asks.

“Stay with me,” you tell him. “Even if it’s just for a little while. I want you to stay with me.”

“I will. I’ll always stay with you whenever you ask.”

You lean in and kiss him softly. He cradles your chin and kisses you, one arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him. He tries his best to show you how much he adores you. You kiss him slowly, enjoying the fact that he was here, he was home.

“So you’ve been busy?” you ask once you and Chan have sat down to eat.

Chan nods. “That isn’t an excuse,” he says. “I should’ve at least called.”

“You were busy. You have deadlines and practice and a workout regimen to keep up with. You have responsibilities.”

You’ve always been so understanding. He has no idea what he did to deserve you. Chan reaches across the table to take your hand. “You’re incredible, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I haven’t even done anything.”

Chan shakes his head. “It’s just… there’s so many things that are expected of me. I have to produce the songs on time. I have to get the choreography correct. I have to be available all the time. Everyone wants something from me… you just want me.”

You squeeze his hand, and then decide it isn’t enough because you stand up and walk around the table to slide onto his lap, wrapping your arms around him. “I do,” you say. “I want you, just you. Because you’re enough. You’re more than enough.”

That’s what finally breaks him. Tears roll down his cheeks and he holds you close to him. “I love you so much,” he whispers. “I know I do a shit job at showing it and I’m never around but I need you to know that I love you. I love you on the days I’m not here and on the days I don’t call. I always love you.”

You smile at him, wiping tears away with your thumbs. “I always love you too,” you say. “Even when you’re gone and I miss you like crazy, you’re still good to me. And I still love you.”

Chan kisses you gently and you lean into his touch. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips. For being understanding. For loving me. For being you.

He’s not sure how long the two of you are sitting there exchanging kisses and soft words, but eventually, you lean back.

“Let’s go to bed,” you say quietly. “I wanna cuddle.”

So he follows you to the bedroom, each of you changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth before climbing in bed side by side. Chan pulls you into his arms immediately and kisses your forehead. He loves moments like these. He’ll never get enough of them.

“I’m going to make you a promise,” he says.

“Oh?” you ask, looking up at him.

“I’m going to try my best to come home every night. Or every morning on days when I get carried away,” he says with a chuckle. “But I’m going to come home. I don’t… This won’t happen again. I’m not leaving you this long again.”

You smile at him and he swears you’re glowing in the dark. Beautiful. You’re so beautiful to him. “Thank you,” you say softly, stroking his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. It’s over much faster than Chan would like, but he knows you must be tired, and he is too. 

“I want to fall asleep with you in my arms every night,” he says, kissing your hair.

“I want that too.”

He smiles at you. “I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

“I’m holding you to that,” you say.

“Good,” he laughs. “I need someone to keep me on a somewhat regular sleep schedule.”

You laugh. “You can count on me.”

“I know,” he says fondly. 

He can count on you for anything. And he knows he never wants to leave your side for that long again. He loves you far too much to be apart for days on end when you’re only ten minutes away. A single phone call away. But you’re always there for him, and he can’t think of anything he’s more grateful for.

[coquitokisses]

Trusting Again | chapter 006: ghost from the past

Word count: 3519

Warnings: language, some violence, blood, Bucky being a sweetheart and helping Cat with a wound

a/n: there’s a part where Cat talks in spanish and bulgarian, i obviously don’t know bulgarian, i used google translate lmao i do know spanish tho, anyways everything will be translated, also, Cat has an alias (sort of???) when she was in Bulgaria, they used to call her Crimson Angel, HOWEVER, i don’t really like that name, but i never found another one to replace it so it just stayed Crimson Angel 🤡 (anyways, she doesn’t really uses that name anymore, is just something more from her past)

series masterlist • previous chapter • next chapter

— 5 months later —

“I'm going to the store.” I told Sam as I grabbed my purse “You want anything?”

“No, I'm good.” He responded from the couch “Although, if you could bring that really moist cake you bought the other day.” He raised his eyebrows

“Tres leches?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“I’ll buy it.” I chuckled “I’ll be right back.”

I got out of the apartment and then walked over to the store that was literally just 5 minutes from us.

These last 5 months haven't been so bad, we've been good actually. Sam loves Cuba, as expected.

I got to the store, bought what we needed and then I headed back to the apartment. It's Friday and for the last three months maybe, I’ve been going to this bar with a girl I met like two weeks after we got here, her name is Maricela. Sam comes with us too sometimes.. whenever I drag him with me tho.

“I'm back.” I said closing the door, Sam was on the living room watching tv

“Got the cake?” He asked

“Got the cake” I nodded putting the bags on the kitchen counter “And I also bought a few snacks since you decided to eat them all.”

“Right, me.” He rolled his eyes

“Hey, so you know today’s Friday and I’m going out with Maricela.” I said to him as I started to put out the few things I bought “Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?” I looked at him

“Yeah.” He nodded

“Huh” I turned back to the bags “Interesting.”

I usually have to beg him to come.

I finished putting out the rest of the things and then I went to take a shower. After I was finished, I went to my room and then I heard Sam going to the bathroom. I got dressed and when I was ready, I waited for Sam in the living room.

“Let’s go.” He said grabbing the keys

“You’re pretty pumped.” I said as we walked out of the apartment

“I’m chilling, bro.” He replied as we started walking

“Is it a girl?” I looked at him

“Nuh uh.” He rolled his eyes

“Are you sure? Because the other day I saw you talking to that blonde bartender.” I tilted my head

“She’s nice, but nah.” He shook his head “Right now, I would really want a beer.”

“Yeah, me too.” I nodded

+ + +

{ a/n: this is narrated in 3rd person lol }

“How do you know they’re here?” Bucky asked Steve as they walked towards the bar, which from afar you could already tell how crowded it was and also could hear how loud the music was

“Sam told me earlier.” He replied “Keep both eyes open for anything strange.”

“Of course.”

Both men entered the bar and Sam was sitting on a chair at the bar talking to a girl.

“Hey, y’all are here!” He said when he saw them

“We are.” Steve nodded “Where’s Cat?”

“Probably dancing.” He shrugged “Hey, I’ll find you later, okay?” He told the girl and she nodded before walking away

“Who was that?” Steve asked

“Some girl that sells handmade jewelry and Cat bought some from her.” He answered “How was Russia?”

“It’s not so bad when you have a translator.” Steve looked at his best friend

“It was okay.” Bucky shrugged, Sam chuckled “How’s Cuba been?”

“Amazing, Cat loves it, she says it reminds her of her home a little bit.”

“How’s she’s been?”

“She’s been great, actually.” He replied “She’s living her best life.”

Steve let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Oh there she is.” Sam said

The three of them turned around and they saw Cat walking towards them with a beer on her hand, but she was looking to the side and when she turned her head, her eyes lit up as she saw Steve.

“Oh my god!” She squealed running over to him and she jumped onto him hugging him

“Jesus Christ.” Steve wrapped his arms around her holding her so she wouldn't fall

“What are you doing here?!” She asked when he put her down

“Well I think five months is a long time.” He said “I needed to see you guys.”

“It is a long time.” She nodded “I missed you.”

Steve smiled. “I did too, not gonna lie.”

“How was Russia?”

“Not bad, how’s Cuba? Sam told us you love it.”

“I do, it’s been kinda great.” She shrugged

She took a few steps back accidentally bumping into Bucky, so she immediately turned around.

“Hey, stranger.” She smiled

“Hey, you.” He gave her a small smirk

“Hey, what is this? What are you wearing?” Steve asked her as he pinched her back

“Ouch!” She turned to look at him “It's called an outfit, look it up.”

“You let her wear this?” He looked over at Sam

“I can't exactly tell her not to.” He said “And besides even if I tell her, she won't listen to me.”

“Exactly.” Cat spoke

“You're not even wearing a bra!” Steve looked at her again

“No I'm not, I can't use a bra with this top” she replied sitting on one of the chairs in front of the bar “And stop looking at my boobs.”

“I am definitely not looking at your boobs.” He rolled his eyes

“Well I think you look good.” Bucky shrugged looking at Cat

Steve immediately gave him a look and Bucky could just feel his eyes on him.

She did look good tho.

“Why thank you!” She said

“It looks fine to me too.” Sam added

She then looked back at Steve. “See? You're the only one who doesn't like it.”

“I never said I didn't like it” Steve said “But it's a little revealing.”

“Okay, grandpa.” She rolled her eyes

“You’re not old enough to be drinking.” He looked at the beer bottle in her hand

“Legal drinking age here is 18.. so yes I am.” She smiled

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No, this is my second beer and probably the last.”

“She's telling the truth.” Sam said

“Are y'all staying?” She asked us

“Well the plan was to just pass by and see you guys.” Steve answered

“Aww, you wanted to see us?” She pouted

Steve rolled his eyes laughing. “Of course, bub.”

“Well that’s very nice of you.. but the quinjet isn't going anywhere, so y’all can stay a little longer.”

“But where are you going?” Sam grabbed her by the arm to stop her from walking away

“To dance!” She pushed his hand away “I’ll be with Maricela a few more minutes and then we can go, okay?”

“Just a few minutes.” Steve repeated making sure she would listen and come back

“Yes, promise.” She nodded

All three of the guys just watched her go until she disappeared into the crowd.

“How old is she?” Bucky asked Steve, he was genuinely curious about her age

“20.” He replied

“She’s 20?!”

Steve nodded. “I know, a lot of people say she doesn’t seem that age.”

“No, not at all.” Bucky shook his head “She’s young, she shouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Well she’s been in worse ones.” He sighed “She kinda had to learn the hard way how to get used to them.”

That really surprised Bucky, he did know she was young just by her looks and her manners and just by the way she expresses herself, but he didn’t really think she was this young.

(...)

*a few hours later*

~ C A T ' S   P O V ~

“Hey, what do you say you guys come with us?” Steve said

“You’re not going back to Russia?” I looked at them

“Well no, we figured it might not be great to stay in the same place for too long.” Bucky replied

“So you want us to leave with you?” I looked back at Steve

“It doesn’t sound too bad.” He said “What do you guys say?”

“Well fine by me.” Sam spoke

“But where are we gonna go?” I asked

Steve shrugged. “We can figure that out after.”

“Aw, you miss us?”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying.” I chuckled “If it’s something, I miss you.”

He smiled a little. “I miss you too, lovey.”

“Such a softie.” I rolled my eyes laughing

“Would you like to leave?” Sam looked at me

“I don’t know.” I sighed “I like it here.”

“I do too.”

“Let me think about it.” I said

“Well it’s late so you better think about it fast.” Steve spoke

It is late. It’s been like three hours since Steve said “just a few minutes” so we really should go.

“Alright, fuck it, let’s leave.” I shrugged

“Are you sure?” Sam looked at me

“Are you?”

“I’m sure.” He nodded

“I am too.” I replied “Besides, I think Bucky’s right, we shouldn’t stay in the same place for too long.”

“Okay, then we’re leaving.”

“Well let’s go.” Steve said

“Can I at least go look for my things and say goodbye to my friend?” I said putting my half empty beer on the counter

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded

“What if I head home now to prepare our things?” Sam said

“Sounds good.” I nodded “I’ll catch up with you guys.”

“No, what do you mean you’ll catch up? One of us can stay with you.” Steve intervened

“Steve, I’ve been living here for five months, I’ll be fine.”

“No, one of us is staying.”

“Well I can stay.” Bucky spoke and both, me and Steve, looked at him

“Perfect, then let's go” Sam nudged Steve “I'm getting tired.”

Both of them exited the club and I was left just there with Bucky.

“Wait for me here?” I looked at him “She's literally right there.” I pointed at some tables where Maricela was

“Sure.” He nodded “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

I managed to get into the crowd and made my way to where Maricela was, and also where my things were.

“Hey, girl.” I said once I was there

“Hey!” She smiled “Oh, you got lucky tonight, finally! ¡Ya era hora!”

(About damn time!)

“¿De qué estás hablando?” I furrowed my brows confused

(What are you talking about?)

“¿Cómo que de qué? About that hottie waiting for you at the bar.”

(What do you mean what I’m talking about?)

“Oh! Uh, no, we're not..” I started saying but she looked at me smirking “Whatever, never mind” I shook my head chuckling “Listen, I'm leaving.”

“Already?!” She pouted and I nodded

“And I think I’m really leaving tho.” I said “Gotta take care of some things.. uh, work stuff.”

The good thing about not being a recognized avenger is that nobody really knows who you are, especially outside of the United States. Which is great.

“Ugh, te voy a extrañar.” She immediately hugged me “Don’t be a stranger.”

(I’m gonna miss you)

I chuckled. “I won’t.” I pulled away “Cuídate.”

(Take care)

“Tú también, muñeca.” She smiled

(You too, doll)

I picked up my bag and my jacket from the booth and then I put it on as I walked back to Bucky.

“We can leave now.” I said to him

We started walking towards the exit, but I felt someone bumping into me.

“Ay, disculpe.” She apologized

(I’m so sorry)

“No se preocupe, está bien.” I gave her a small smile

(No worries, it’s okay)

I was ready to walk away, but she grabbed me by the wrist pretty tight.

“Creí que no iba a encontrarte nunca.” She said

(I thought I would never find you)

I looked at her confused because I’ve never seen her in my life. “Creo que tiene a la persona equivocada.” I tried to let go of her grip, but she was holding me pretty tight

(I think you got the wrong person)

“No, yo creo que no.” She shook her head with a little “Tŭrsikhme te, purpuren angel.”

(No, I don’t think so) (We’ve been looking for you, crimson angel)

When she said those words, my whole body tensed and I think Bucky noticed that something was happening because I felt his hand on my free arm trying to slowly pull me away.

“Who are you?” I asked in a low voice

“It doesn’t really matter who I am.” She shrugged “You need to come with me.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” I managed to finally get off her grip

I grabbed a bottle from the bar and I slammed it on her head as hard as I could making her fall on the ground. Did I knocked her out? I don’t know. Hopefully.

“Why the fuck would you do that?!” Bucky grabbed my wrist

“Shut up! Come on, there’s another exit.” I pushed him and we both ran towards the other exit

We got out of the bar and we started running in direction to the apartment. Once we were kinda far, we decided to stop running.

“Who the fuck was that?” Bucky asked

“I’m not in the mood for a story time.” I said as I kept walking

“You just slammed a glass bottle on her head! Are you insane?”

“She’s a bad guy, okay? I think that’s all that needs to be said.” I moved the hair out of my face and I felt a sting on my hand “Ah, fuck.” I looked at my hand and I was bleeding, probably had a piece of glass stuck there

“Let me see your hand.”

“I’m okay, let’s just get to the apartment.” I said

We heard a gunshot and I fell to the ground feeling a sharp pain on my shoulder. This bitch really just shot me.

“Go!” Bucky helped me get up and he put his hand on my back pushing me

We started running, again and my shoulder was starting to burn a little. Bucky pulled me into an alley and we kinda stayed there trying to catch our breaths a little.

“Come here.” He grabbed me by the arm, which by the way, was already covered in blood

“Please tell me the bullet’s out.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“We have to go.”

“Wait! You’re bleeding too much.” He said

“I’ll be fine.” I let go of his grip

I had just walked out of the alley and the only thing I saw was the same girl pushing me onto the ground before she put her foot on my neck, but she wasn’t putting pressure yet so I could breathe still.

“Stay back.” She pointed a gun at Bucky when he tried to come closer “I only want her.”

“Who are you?” I asked her

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” My hands grabbed her leg trying to push her away but she started to apply a little pressure

“You’re gonna come with me without putting up a fight, you understand?”

“You even know who I am at least?” I frowned “Not that I’m famous or anything.. but I’m genuinely curious.”

“Znam koĭ si, purpuren angel.”

(I know who you are, crimson angel.)

“Of course.” I muttered

I slowly moved one of my hands to my shorts and I grabbed the pocket knife I had.

“Who sent you?”

“Look kid, you’re in no position to ask questions.” She said

Oh, kid?! That’s it.

“Why’d they sent you alone?”

“I’m not alone.”

“I don’t really see anyone else with you.” I said “They at least tell you why they call me that?”

“I don’t really ask questions, I just get the job done.”

“Well..” I took the knife out “You should’ve asked.”

I stabbed her on the leg making her take her foot off me and I immediately kicked her making her fall on the ground. I kicked the gun away and I got on top of her pressing the knife to her neck.

“I’m gonna ask one last time, who sent you?” I spoke

She scoffed. “You really think I’m just gonna answer you?”

“Well that’s your choice, really.” I shrugged “But nothing good comes out of not telling me.. but I think you already know that.” I whispered that last sentence “Don’t make me ask again.”

“… Danika.”

“That’s funny, last time I saw her she was trying to kill me.”

“I don’t know anything else, they refuse to share everything with us.”

“Of course they do.” I sighed “Well next time you see Danika, tell her she can come get me herself.. malkoto ĭ angelche bi se radvalo da ya vidi otnovo.”

(Her little angel would love to see her again.)

That was the last thing I said before I slammed her head on the concrete knocking her out.

“You’re bleeding too much.” Bucky said helping me get up “How far is the apartment?”

“We’re almost there.”

“What if she follow us?”

I scoffed.” Then we’ll be okay because we can defend ourselves.”

“It’s not funny, I’m serious.”

“Just shut up and keep walking, we’re almost there.” I sighed “She’s not waking up anytime soon, trust me.”

We walked for like 5 more minutes until we finally arrived at the apartment. When we got in, Sam already had our bags in the living room, which weren’t a lot, we only had like four.

“Why are you so sweaty?” Steve asked looking at us both “Wait, you’re bleeding.” He grabbed me by the arm stopping me “You’re shot, Cat, what the hell happened?”

“We need to go now.” I said “I think they found me and I’m not talking about the law.”

“What?!” He looked at me “What are you talking about? How?”

“I don’t fucking know, but we need to go now.” I said opening one of my bags

I took out one of my bandanas and kinda wrapped it around the wound to make some pressure on it to stop the bleeding. I went into my room and I looked around making sure there was nothing else left and then I walked out to the living room again.

“You sure you got everything?” I looked at Sam as he handed me one of the bags

“Yes.”

“Passports?” I asked

“Yes, they’re inside, everything’s inside.” He nodded “You can relax.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, don’t think about it.”

I let out a sigh. “I just.. I thought it was over.”

“It is.” He said as we walked out of the apartment

“It’s not.” I looked at him

“Then it will be, don’t worry, you’re not alone.”

We got outside and walked over to the jet. Once we were in, I sat on the floor. I was starting to feel kinda dizzy, but just a little bit, I think is because the adrenaline already left my body and I’m starting to feel the effects of being shot. I haven’t even checked my hand yet and I know I have a little piece of glass stuck there cause I feel it and it’s hurting like crazy. And also my hand is kinda bloody.

“Cat, we need to clean that wound.” Steve said

“I’m fine.” I rested my head on the wall

“No you’re not.” Bucky sat in front of me “Turn around.”

I just did what he asked and took the bandana off me.

“Is there some rubbing alcohol or something to clean that wound by any chance?” He asked

“There should be a small first aid kit in that compartment.” I pointed at the wall in front of us

He walked there for the kit, once he found it he brought it to where I was. He first poured some alcohol on his hands, then grabbed mine and took out that little piece of glass that was there, he cleaned my hand and then put a bandaid on it.

“You have high pain tolerance?” He asked, he was behind me now

I shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Good.” He said and before I could even say another word, I felt his finger on the wound

“You motherf.. oh my god!” I bit my lip trying not to scream

“It’s out.” He said showing me the bullet “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It fucking hurts really bad.” I winced

“Well from what I’ve seen, I think you can handle it.” He looked at me “You’re a big girl.”

And without even warning me, I felt how he wiped the wound with a gauze with alcohol. More like he cleaned around it, but still, it hurt.

“Fuck..” I groaned really wanting to punch him in the face “I really hate you.”

“That’s debatable.” He tilted his head

“Just.. shut up and finish before I punch you in that perfect face of yours.” I took a deep breath and rested my head back on the wall

Bucky finished cleaning the wound and he covered it up with some bandages.

“You hate me now?” He looked at me

“What if I do?” I tilted my head

“Well I can make you change your mind.” he shrugged

“I’m not very easy to persuade so I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Not really.”

“Oh so you do think I can make you change your mind?”

“I never said that.” I shook my head

“You don’t need to say it.” He gave me a small smirk

This man.

“Where are we going?” Steve asked

“To see Nick.” I replied

“Denmark?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

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[beaker1636]

F is For Face Sitting - Vinny

a/n: So if you didn't figure it out I kind of hinted that Lottie was a bit insecure about not being the smallest girl out there in the last part and I really played with that in this chapter in a way that I found really sweet and loving between her and Vin. So this one is a really fluffy smut and hopefully you guys like it as I took kind of a different route with this than I originally planned. I love you all and appreciate all the kid words I keep getting with this, I’ve been really putting myself out there and trying new things with this fic so all the kind comments mean a lot to me!

Also probably won’t get much posted until Thursday or Friday so sorry if you don’t get any updates for awhile!

“Are you trying to get me killed, there is no way Lottie is going to allow me to do that with her tonight,” Vinny groans as he sends the message in the chat back to Chris, wanting to fling his phone across the room.

“Why not? It’s not even that weird or anything, is it like Mia said about how she needs more confidence?” Chris responds quickly, making Vinny want to bury himself in a hole.

“She hates doing anything where she has to be on top because she is worried she’s too big, no matter how much I try to convince her otherwise it never works.  Hell last night she was off because she was embarrassed about being around all the girls in the pool because she is the only “bigger” one and she isn’t even that big.  It’s a rough subject okay,” he hits send, now worried if you found out that he said something if you’d be upset.

“But she isn’t even that big, listen, give her a really nice night with a relaxing dinner, maybe a relaxing bath and then focus on her.  Let her know all you are aiming to do tonight is take care of her and maybe you can slowly coax her out of it, remind her how beautiful she is and that you are lucky.  If you build her up enough you will be able to get her to try and might help build her confidence some… and based off comments on the photo Mia posted of the two of you you may need to do that.  People are being assholes towards her.”  Vin reads the message and immediately panics, pulling up Mia’s instagram and suddenly feeling angered at some of the things that are being said.

“Fuck, how do I fix that? If she has seen it then she’s gonna be a wreck when she gets home from work,” Vinny thinks to himself groaning, “Why do people need to be assholes?”

Rather than saying anything he decides the easiest way to get the point across that he doesn’t give a shit about any of it is to post a photo he has of the two of you that Rick caught a while ago, his favorite photo of the two of you that neither of you have posted before.  He doesn’t remember what the two of you were laughing at but the smile on your face always makes him smile when he sees it. He makes a quick caption about how beautiful you are caught in the moment and left it at that, hoping that people would get the hint and lay off you.

He smiles to himself when he sees you respond to him comment with I love you.

He sends you a quick message telling you he is going to meet you at your place in a  little bit now that he knows you are off work and that he is bringing dinner over so you don’t need to worry about anything.

Later

Vinny opens your front door and smiles when he hears the shower, knowing that you must have just gotten home from work if you are still in the shower.  Setting the food he picked up down on your coffee table he makes his way towards your bathroom, knocking before slipping in.

“Hey baby, just letting you know that I am here,” He says, trailing off when he hears what music you have playing, it is what you listen to when you are in a bad mood. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

“I will be, give me a few minutes to have my moment and then I’ll be out,” you respond, he can tell by the tone of your voice that you have been crying, his heart falling when he knows what it is about.

“Baby, get out of the shower, we need to talk about this,” He says softly, hoping that you will listen and feeling better when he hears the water turn off, the curtain slowly opens just barely so you can reach your hand out, grabbing your towels to wrap around you and your hair before you open it the rest of the way and step out.

“Come here, let's go to the room. I want to show you everything about you that I find attractive, that others find attractive, baby,” he says quietly, reaching for your hand so he can lead you towards your room.  

He is a little upset that you don’t fight him, normally you put up a huge fight when he drags you somewhere so he knows you really are out of it.  He moves you and has you sit on the edge of the bed, facing your full vanity mirror, giving a kiss before he moves so you can see yourself in the mirror.

“Let’s start with your hands, the hands you use to take care of children all day, that you use to wipe their tears away, clean their faces, cradle them when they need some love, play with them.  The few times I have witnessed you with your class I love seeing the way you use them to take care of the kids, to take care of everyone when you can.” He gives one of your hands a light kiss before setting them on your lap.

“Vin, you don’t have to do this.  I’ll get over it eventually,” you whisper softly, meeting his eyes in the mirror for a moment while blushing.

“I know but I want to Lottie,” he responds, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “Your arms, the way they wrap so tightly around me and those you care about, the way you wrap them around your work kids when they run up to you when we go out and one of them sees you.  I would be lying if I said that I don’t sometimes get jealous of the kids that you hold onto all day and love on in your arms, but I am the lucky one that gets to be in them at night, that you pull into your chest while you play with my hair and we just talk or I game for awhile,” he says softly, rubbing his hands along your arms while you continue to watch him.

When his hands reach the top of your towel where it is tucked around you he notices you suck in a breath, the way you tense under his touch so he pauses for a moment. “Hey, it’s just me, you don’t need to be shy for me Lottie.”

When he undoes it he lightly runs his hands along your stomach, one of the places he knows you are really insecure about. “I love that you are soft and cuddly, you are strong.  I love that when we curl up and you envelope me in your arms that I can be comfortable as I lay on your soft belly and chest.  It brings me so much comfort when I use you as a pillow, there is a reason why I try to lay my head on you a lot when we are cuddled up in bed. I couldn’t do that with someone that is smaller, I love being curled up with you and comfortable.  My favorite place to rest my hands is on your waist when you are around me, I don’t know why it just brings me comfort.”

Before you can protest he moves so that he can leave a kiss on your lips, trailing down to make sure he leaves gentle kisses on your love handles and stretch marks, the places that he knows you are the most uncomfortable with, that you usually get annoyed with when he tries to touch them.

He stops when he gets lower to sit up and watch you again in the mirror as he settles back behind you once again, this time his hands resting on your thighs. “We’re at my favorite part, I love your squishy thighs and butt.  They look so good in your jeans when you are walking, they are so comfortable to sit in or lay my head in.  They keep you up on your feet when you chase littles all day, and I know they love getting to sit in your lap with you.  I love the way you wrap them around me when I get you all needy and you want me to just get you past the finish line already.” He ghosts his fingers towards your center when he says this, smiling slightly to himself when he feels you shudder.

“Now arguably one of my favorite parts of you, I would be lying if I tried to pretend that it wasn’t,” he smiles slightly when he hears you giggle at his words. “I love it when you get all wet and needy for me, when you draw my fingers and my cock in as you get closer and closer to falling over the edge, I love the way you taste when you let me taste you and get you going.” 

He runs a finger along your opening towards your clit, making you squirm in your spot as he begins to tease you slightly, knowing that he is getting you worked up and also raising your mood and confidence slightly. He uses his other hand to let your hair loose, brushing it away from one of your ears before leaning in to whisper, “Let me worship you baby, please ride my face tonight, take the pleasure you need from me.”

He notices you freeze up but continues to tease you, the one hand still barely grazing your clit while the other reaches around you to lightly toy with one of your nipples, trying to get you to the point you won’t think about it, that you will just let him do what he wants to do.

“Vin,” you start to say with a sigh.

“You’re not going to hurt me, if I need you to move I will let you know. Please, let me pleasure you, show you how much I love you and your body,” he asks, moving to lay down on the bed behind you.

Hesitantly you move, leaning yourself over him but not sitting down like he wants you to, nervous to be trying something new, especially when you’d be putting your weight on him.

Getting impatient Vinny grabs your thighs, pulling you down on top of him so that he can begin to tease your folds with his tongue.  Running it from your entrance to your clit several times knowing that motion drives you nuts before finally sucking harshly on your clit for a second, making you arch your back and moan at the feeling.

“There you go, rock yourself on me, take what you want,” Vinny encourages, moving his hands to your hips as he urges you to rock them as he continues to tease you with his tongue, knowing he is bring you close when you now are moving yourself, starting to take it into your own hands as you moan on top of him. 

 He moves a hand so he can slip two of his fingers inside of you, knowing that the added sensations of them working inside of you as you work yourself on top of him will set you off, and he is correct.  With a couple more swivels of your hips, with his tongue working at your clit you come undone on top of him.  

He lays his head back so he can watch you as your face tightens and you throw your head back as you ride out and slowly come back down from the orgasm he just gave you.  You slipping your legs over his head so that you can move and lay down next to him on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly as you come down from everything that just happened.

“I told you that I would be fine, just because you aren’t the smallest wouldn’t mean you would hurt me.  I love your body baby, you do such amazing things with it and I wish you could see that… but I’ll keep worshiping you and telling you until you believe me,” he says softly, giving you a kiss and trying not to laugh when you grimace at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“I’m going to go brush my teeth and then reheat our dinner, go get dressed baby,”  he says softly, making his way back to the bathroom that you both left about a half an hour earlier so he can do that. 

When you slip into the kitchen where he is warming dinner back up for the two of you you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his back as you rest your face on his now shirtless frame.

“Thank you Vin, I love you,” you hum softly, feeling a lot better after all his praise and kind words. “I know I should ignore it, but it never gets easier having those comments directed at me, being the bigger one of all our group of friends.”

“I know, but you aren’t even that big babe.  And all that matters is that you and I love it and are happy, and I am.  I love you just how you are.  Now why don’t we take our food and go watch (your favorite movie)?” He asks, turning around to wrap his arms around you as well, your head now resting on his chest.

“That sounds wonderful, thank you Vin,” you say softly, following him towards your couch to go and do just that, curling up next to him the second the two of you are done with dinner so you can enjoy the rest of your night together.

[johnslittlespoon]

okay so I’m the anon with that fic I’m not likely to finish so. here it is ig. <3 came to you because it felt as if the nsfw part might be up your alley lol <3 and if it’s not or if any of this makes you uncomfortable just. ignore it, that’s totally cool!

tiny tws before I get started: pregnancy, cheating, slight dubcon (but it’s more just John talking it up), slight feminization (?)

so. listen. John and Gale haven’t talked all that much since they both got married because they both have jobs and wives and families that haven’t seen them for literal years. there’s also that sort of “maybe he doesn’t need me anymore” and “I’ll just remind him of the awful things we’ve been through” thought pattern coming from both of them, so. they just. stay the fuck away from each other for a hot minute.

Marge notices that something isn’t quite right with Gale, and notices that he doesn’t talk to Bucky on the phone and that there aren’t any letters coming in from him, and gently suggests inviting him and Josephine to dinner sometime, especially now that they’ve got exciting news to share. Gale reluctantly agrees, and it takes some time to figure out a date that works for all four of them. 4th of July is a Thursday and John manages to get the Friday off, and they all decide that it would be nice to spend the weekend together considering they live so far apart, and it’ll give Gale and John ample time to catch up.

July is still a few weeks off, and they don’t talk any before they meet, which makes Gale pretty nervous to see Bucky again, even though it shouldn’t. No matter how long they’ve been apart in the past, seeing each other again has always felt as if they’ve only been apart for a few minutes, but this time feels different.

so, the day arrives and Gale is in all sorts of shambles. he tries to convince Marge to let him help in the kitchen, and eventually she sends him to set the table in the formal dining room because she’s tired of his constant hovering and his nervous energy, and he does it without protest. It feels a little clumsy and he’s entirely sure Marge will fix it before the guests arrive anyway, so when he’s halfway done with it he just. tells her he’ll get them a bottle of wine instead and ducks out of the house for a minute. he does find a bottle of wine that’ll work okay with the food and when he gets back he hops in the shower just to keep himself busy.

by the time he’s ready (or as ready as he’ll ever be), Marge really has fixed the table setting and the food is ready and the next hour or so is spent pacing and picking at things in the house that makes no difference whatsoever. John and Josephine won’t care that one of the pillows on the couch isn’t entirely straight and Gale knows that, but he allows himself to do what he needs to do, anyway.

John and Josephine arrive on time, and while Marge pulls Josephine to the kitchen to show off the brand new stove (or something, idk what girls in the 40s talked about) Gale offers John some whiskey and hopes that’ll be enough to soften the blow of the “exciting news”.

they eat, drink the wine Gale got and catch up. Josephine and Marge get along swimmingly, because of course they do, and it’s not until they’re halfway through dessert that Marge leans closer to Gale and asks if they should tell John and Josephine already, and after a moment’s hesitation and making sure John is pleasantly tipsy, Gale agrees. it’s Marge that tells John and Josephine they’re expecting, and that they’re making the home office into a nursery and for the rest of the meal Marge and Josephine talk about the baby and the nursery and what things they’ve already bought, but John is uncharacteristically quiet and downs another two glasses of wine.

When Marge finally asks Josephine if she wants to see what they’ve already done with the nursery, she agrees and the two disappear. Gale takes the moment to ask John if he’d like to see the new car (because of course they got a new car, they need something baby safe and family friendly), and even though he doesn’t think John is interested in the slightest, it’s a way to get John alone, and, sure enough, it works. they don’t say much as they go to the garage, but as soon as the door is closed behind them, John asks something along the lines of “what the fuck” and “you don’t think it’s a bit early? It hasn’t even been a year” and eventually he spits something like “did I mean that little to you? did we mean that little to you?”

Gale is absolutely gobsmacked by that, because it’s not as if they could ever work out (that’s what he tells himself, anyway), and he does really love Marge, he just very much happens to love Bucky, too. he tells Bucky off, tells him that he’s drunk and to get his shit together, because Gale isn’t the only one who’s married, and John scoffs at that, says that at least Gale loves his pretty little housewife (yeah, he’s condescending because he’s upset and he’s had way too much to drink for a dinner party) and, oh, boy, Gale absolutely does not eat that shit up. He grumbles and asks “why can’t you just fucking pretend, then? Josephine is perfectly lovely, and she loves you”

and. idk how but they end up messily making out because they’re both worked up and it’s been, what, ten months since they got their hands on each other? and, look, John hates the new car and he definitely says as much to Gale when he bends him over the hood, and maybe Gale would’ve had a clever response if John wasn’t grinding against him the way that he is. It takes some time getting anywhere, because it’s been so long, but by the time John finally gets to push inside Gale is a mess, and the only thing holding him together is John’s hands. and, look, John is definitely still upset and if he was quiet before it’s as if he can’t shut up now.

very much like: “pretend? you want me to pretend when she has soft curves and doesn’t feel like you do? doesn’t sound like you? do you have any idea how long it took for me to convince her to let me fuck her ass? you’d think a hole is a hole, but no. no, not even her ass feels like you, buck.”

it’s definitely doing something to Gale to be compared to John’s wife, because he’s whimpering and clenching so hard around John that John sees white, and now that John knows he hasn’t overstepped any boundaries he definitely can’t shut up.

“wish I could put a baby in you”, he’d say. “I’d give you everything Marge can’t, Buck. Would take you to bed every night until I knew it’d take. Fuck you as soon as we wake up, and maybe I’d bend you over the kitchen counter as soon as I get back home from work, just to really make sure of it.”

and even when Gale finishes and is sobbing from the overstim, John doesn’t stop. murmurs soft “you can take it, doll” and “just a little longer”.

and. uhhhh. Gale has to spend the remainder of the evening sore, fucked out and with John’s fucking cum up his ass and has to pretend it’s nothing, and it’s not until much later, when Josephine and Marge have both gone to bed that John goes to find Gale again and asks him if he’s okay, because this isn’t exactly anything they’ve done before. sure, sometimes the sex gets a bit messy and sometimes it gets a little rough, but not like this. it’s mostly fine, Gale just can’t shake the thought of Bucky not actually loving Josephine and is scared John is miserable and they talk to the early hours of morning, and when Gale is so exhausted he can barely keep his eyes open, John pulls him into a hug and they spoon on the couch the way they always did in the stalag, and it’s the first time either of them don’t have nightmares since they both got back.

so. yeah. I think that’s it. Thank you for listening. love your blog love your writing dog coded Bucky has literally altered my brain chemistry thanks x

DUDE i literally read this while waiting at a bus stop and my eye was twitching trying to keep my expression neutral HELLOOO.

first of all i promise you like next to nothing makes me uncomfortable, i have so few hard nopes when it comes to writing so don't stress, all of that was CHEF'S KISS. one of the few things i don't personally read/write is actual mpreg (or any pregnancy. i am not an enjoyer of kid fics or parent fics etc i'm so sorry </3)

BUT when they talk to each other like that as if they can actually get the other pregnant? the feminization, the malewife–ification LOL, breeding kinks, possession, all that jazz– i eat that UP. ur mind!!

second, i know you said you probably won't finish it, but this is such a good concept, this sort of exploration of post war feelings, conflict, miscommunication, how their relationship would evolve with time etc is always so fascinating to read/write about, and i genuinely think a LOT of people would be so excited to read a fic like this! (as much as we all adore marge. it's fiction for a reason ok we love you sweet girl)

but i know it's rly rly hard to find motivation to write sometimes, especially if the muse for an idea fades, or you jump to a new one, etc, so i totally get that. just had to tell you how fast i and so many others would eat this shit up just in case it does help to motivate you at all lol <3

thank YOU for sending this in!! it was a joy to read even if you don't ever finish it, and thank youuu omg?? i'm so sorry but also we are suffering together bc dog coded bucky has absolutely altered my chemistry as well and there's no escaping from it shdkgj <33

[the-roo-too]

signal -> classmate! oh haewon

-the 6 step guide of confessing to your crush

warnings: it’s very rushed; i lost motivation at the end 😭

genre: grain of angst, fluff

notes: i love haewon

1. begin the process

sunny day, what a beautiful time to be alive. at least it would be beautiful if you weren’t currently on your way to the nurse’s office.

you got hit by a ball after staring at a certain someone for far too long during p.e. the girl that attacked you was getting scolded by the teacher (you felt a little bad for that- hence you were the one not paying attention) while the cause of the problem was trotting after you.

“…you should be more careful. look around every once in a while or you’ll get hurt more.”

‘i was looking at you.’

“i know. i just thought i saw mrs kwon on the field.”

‘smooth.’ you mentally cheered for yourself.

“kwon yuri? wasn’t she taking a absence? if she’s back already i should probably report to her…”

‘not smooth.’

“o-oh well, maybe it was someone else?” you didn’t have to look at her face to know she wasn’t convinced.

“are you any close with mrs kwon?”

“i guess… i go to her for piano lessons every thursday, why?” you weren’t that close with the teacher, but could probably be called one of her favourites.

“she asked me to make a report of the orchestra’s activities this semester. if she comes back unexpectedly, could you let me know? give me your phone, i’ll type in my number.” your steps halted. she turned to look at you with confusion painting her face.

“number?”

“yeah, so you can text me if mrs kwon comes back. is that okay?” you could only pray she couldn’t see the reddening of your cheeks.

“yeah, it’s cool.” it’s very cool to get your crushes number.

2. get rejected

“let me get this straight.” lily moved her plate away to focus all her attention on you. “haewon gave you her number all by herself? months of pinning just for that?”

“i mean, she wants me to contact her if mrs kwon comes back earlier from her leave, not to chat casually…” as if on cue, you phone let out a low buzz, informing you of the new notification.

“ooh~ that might just be the love of your life!”

“i will remind you that my friendship with jinsol is quite solid and i can tell her about your little crush on her anytime.” earning a eye roll from the older girl, you unlocked your phone.

much to your surprise, the text was actually from the number labelled as ‘oh haewon’.

“i was right!”

“hush for a second, will you?” biting your lip, you opened the notification.

‘mrs kwon texted me she’ll be coming back next week.’

“oh.”

“ouch… rejected before you could even try.”

“lily jin morrow.”

“i’m sorry.” she laughed.

“i’m calling bae.”

“i said i’m sorry!”

3. restart the process

mrs kwon did came back earlier than expected. for you it only meant that your piano sessions will be back. for the others? every band suddenly had to rehearse.

they probably delayed practicing when suddenly the head of the section came back.

mrs kwon came back on friday, couple days later you were packing your things after your usual practice. the teacher left already, probably needing to see some pour soul who was failing the semester.

“i’m really sorry i can’t stay with you and help. i tried to get mom to pick my brother up but she won’t make it in time and i can’t just leave him like that…” you looked away from your sheets to see two figures approaching the classroom.

“i understand, yoona. i won’t hold a grudge because of that, don’t worry. family emergencies happen and it’s very much normal. go, i’ll fill out these by myself.” the taller out of the two figures moved away.

that left you alone with the girl. she hadn’t noticed you yet, as you awkwardly stood next to the piano in the room. she suddenly looked up.

“oh, hi y/n.” at first you were surprised she actually knew your name. on the other hand, it wasn’t the first year the two of you were classmates.

“ye- um, yeah, hi.” you waved lightly.

“did mrs kwon leave already? i wanted to hand her the paperwork today but if she’s not here…”

“she’ll be back after finishing with the upper grade. that shouldn’t take more than an hour.” haewon threw a sceptical gaze at the pile of papers in her hands.

“there’s no way i’ll fill all this out in an hour. they are due today so i might finish them at home and send mrs kwon the scans.”

“maybe i could help you?” her eyes held no emotion as she turned her head. then suddenly, her face looked softer.

“your help would be greatly appreciated. sit with me.” she patted the chair on her side. gladly, you walked over to join her in filling out the paperwork.

maybe in a normal situation you wouldn’t be glad to have to work on so many pages. but now, that haewon was so focused on filling out the forms, you could stare at her in peace, without worrying a ball would hit you again.

4. fuck it up

one might wonder does the lighting strike the same place twice, but you just proved that the ball can in fact hit the same person twice.

twice can you also be led to the nurse’s office by the same person. so many coincidences in your life, maybe you should start listening to twice?

“how do you expect to be any help to me if you’re constantly getting hit?” you laughed lowly in response.

“it’s you who insisted on keeping the window open… n-not that i blame you of course!”

haewon stopped in her tracks and sighed. “is everything okay?”

“what?”

“we aren’t necessarily close, but i’ve noticed that while interacting with me, you seem more distracted. does my presence bother you?”

“n-no, it’s not-!”

“if you would like to put a stop to our friendship-“

“i like you, haewon!”

5. hide

“y/n…” lily sighed, putting her hand on your shoulder in a comforting manner. you ran away from haewon and the older girl was the first person that popped into your mind.

“i fucked up, didn’t i?”

“…i mean, you haven’t seen her reaction?” even she wasn’t sure of her words.

“lily, you’re really bad at comforting, you know?”

“…yea.” you shook your head. the situation seemed bad, you just confessed to a girl that was trying to end your friendship. and she barely knew you.

“it couldn’t be worse!” groaning, you hid your face in your palms.

“it actually could?” lily received a sharp glare from you. “i’m just saying! besides, your phone’s been buzzing for the past five minutes.”

“that’s always a bad sign…” just as you took the device in your hand, someone called your phone.

‘oh haewon’

“…are you sure you want to pick that up-“

“um, hi haewon?”

“i like you too.”

6. smile and wave

you sat with your best friend in the cafeteria. while she was busy staring at a certain girl a couple tables away, you glanced at your phone every few seconds. noticing that, lily let out a mocking sigh.

“if i knew you’d be so busy when you get a girlfriend, i wouldn’t help you.” she whined.

“help me? when did you help me?”

“my mere presence was a blessing.”

“the so called ‘blessing’ doesn’t seem to work on you tho. bae still hasn’t fallen for your charms.” you mocked the older girl, receiving a angry ‘yah’ from her.

“what are you fiddling with that phone of your for anyways?”

“…haewon said she’ll pick me up for our lunch date.”

“aww! it’s a special occasion?” as if on cue, you felt a hand being placed on your shoulder. with a smile you looked up to meet your lover’s gaze.

“we’ve been together for a month today. ‘monthiversary’? i think that’s what they call it.” said haewon. both you and lily snickered quietly. “not important, let’s go love. the more time we get, the more we can-“

“just go!” the eldest of you groaned again. “stop rubbing it in my face that i’m single…”

“yeah, we’re going. see ya!” you smiled at the girl and waved. haewon took your hand in hers. she also gave you a smile of her own.

and even though you stared at her again, no ball came to hit you this time.

[gaysindistress]

When Night Comes - eight

Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: mob!Bucky, cursing, the feels, angst, mentions of past abuse (Alix is a terrible person)

word count: 4k

seven | masterlist

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom  @buckybarnessimpp @hidden-treasures21​ @unaxv​ @mal-adaptive-dreams @elizacusi-blog

a/n: We’re jumping between 3 or 4 different scenes here so strap in and get ready. 

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

The first thing that flashes through her mind when she wakes up is Yelena with the kiss quickly following suit. Pulling the covers over her head, she creates a bubble to ignore the world around her. What the actual fuck did she get herself into? 

She isn’t allowed much peace when her phone goes off. Jessica made sure that she had her own ringtone almost immediately after they met, claiming that she was just that special when it was really because she wanted to make sure Sunny always answered her calls. 

“Hey girl hey!” She cheers through the speaker phone. 

“What?” 

“Ouch, what crawled up your ass and died?” “It’s been a long night. What’s up?” Jessica stays silent for a few seconds, debating whether or not to reveal her secret, “Well remember how I said that I wasn’t going to get back with Peter?” “I swear to god if the next thing you say is ‘surprise, we’re back together’, I’ll literally lose my shit.”

“Ye have little faith. No I didn’t get back with Peter but you also didn’t let me finish. I’m going out with one of Yelena’s friends Friday and I would love if you could help me get ready for it.”

“Who is it?”

“You don’t know them.”

“No shit,” Sunny says while pushing the blankets off so she can breath fresh air, “What’s their name?”

“Natasha.” “Oh a girl? I thought you didn’t like girls.”

Shuffling is heard from the other side, no doubt as a result of Jessica flopping onto her stomach on her bed, “I said I wished that I was so I figured why not give it a try? What’s the worst that can happen?”

“You lead her on and she gets hurt.”

“I would never do such a thing. I’m always honest about my feelings even if it hurts a person which reminds me, why is Yelena sulking?” “I’m going to need more info than that,” she huffs when the woman in question appears on her fire escape. 

“She’s been such a downer lately and I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with Mr. Sexy.”

“Why would I know the answer to that?”

“Because you’re like all she talks about.”

Sunny glances over at Yelena who is leaning against the window now, examining her nails and pretending that she can’t hear their conversation. 

“That’s interesting but no I don’t know and I have to go. Bye, love you.”

Jessica sputters in confusion at her quick hang up but manages to sneak in a “love you too bitch”. 

“I’m not sulking.” 

“I didn’t say that,” Sunny says, pulling her blanket back over her shoulders, “why are you here?”

“Ouch,” Yelena fakes being offended and drops herself onto the bed next to her, “You aren’t even a little bit excited to see me?”

“I didn’t mean it like that… It's been a long few days.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She shrugs her shoulders and lets out a long sigh, “Not really. You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Checking on you, making sure you haven’t committed any crimes.”

“You’ll be the first person I call if I get arrested.”

“I’m honored that you’d call me before Bucky.”

“Well he would probably lose it on the entire police station so…”

“You could’ve just said “Yes Yelena. I would call you first because I like you a lot more than that douche bag.” I would’ve taken that.”

“Yes Yelena I would call you first because I like you WAY more than that man.”

Yelena’s face goes blank as she says, “Were you thinking about me when you kissed him?”

Jessica groans as someone pounds on her apartment door. The smell of wet dog invades her living room as the pounding grows louder and the person responsible grows less patient. 

“Jessica open the fucking door!”

“What are you doing? Are you trying to get the cops called?” she hisses at Alix who is soaking wet from the heavy rainfall outside. Alix goes to reprimand her for speaking to her pack leader that way but Jessica yanks her inside. 

“Stay here. I don’t want water and wet dog all over everything,” she tells Alix as she disappears to find towels and extra clothes. 

The sound of wet clothes dropping onto her floor comes from the living room and as she walks back in, she finds Alix in just her tank top and underwear, her jeans and zip up on the ground around her. 

“Give me that,” she demands, snatching the towel out of Jessica’s hands and starts to dry off her body and braids, “What do you have on the Strigoi?”

“Nothing like I told you last night. Y/N isn’t saying anything and I can’t get close enough to anyone else.”

“What about Peter?”

“Ghosted me.”

Alix raises one eyebrow, “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?” “Because you always do.”

Jessica wrinkles her nose at the insult, “I may have slapped a girl he was kissing.”

Alix stops wringing out her braids and closes her eyes while taking a deep breath, “Your only job is to keep tabs on Bucky and his group. How the fuck did you manage to mess that up?”

“No no you said to watch Y/N and to TRY and keep tabs on the others. I am doing my job just not the side tasks.” A growl rings through the small apartment, “So help me God, Jessica. The more you act out, the more likely your cover is going to be blown. Speaking of which, who knows about you?” “Peter and Yelena obviously but Y/N doesn’t.”

“Has anyone brought it up?” “Peter did but only to ask if it’s true that I turn into a wolf every full moon. I don’t think Yelena cares and Bucky or Steve don’t come in enough to notice.”

“We both know that Yelena cares but is just waiting to see what happens. What about Peggy?”

Jessica shrugs, “I don’t answer the door so I’m assuming not.”

Alix rolls her eyes before tossing the towel back at Jessica and brushes past her to raid her closet for dry clothes. 

“How close are you to going through with the plan?” she calls out. 

Jessica hums for a second, thinking about her progress, “It’s going to take longer than I thought. Y/N isn’t telling me anything so I can’t tell what’s going on with Bucky or Yelena.”

“But she’s close enough to them though?”

“Kinda. Juliette, that dumbass, had a meeting with him and Steve at the restaurant that we were at and she saw, assumed they were a couple, and dipped. She did go out with Yelena but I don’t think she’s going to give him the time of day again.”

Alix comes back out wearing some of Sunny’s clothes that she had left behind during late nights. She takes a seat on the couch, fully leaning back into the plush cushions, “I don’t really care who she gets close to as long as it’s one of them. All we need is an opening to take out the Rogers and Bucky so we can get her back to Fresno where she belongs.”

“Do you really think that’s going to work?” Alix’s eyes flash gold like they usually do when she’s angry, “Of course it is. She belongs to me. Taking out those bloodsuckers, who mind you have been trying to kill me for years, is just a welcomed side effect of bringing her home.”

Jessica rolls her eyes while taking her phone out to scroll aimlessly on tiktok. 

“Did you send the text that I asked?”

“Yes.”

Sunny goes still under her blanket and feels Yelena watching her every move, awaiting her answer. 

“How did you know?” “Aside from the fact that I can smell him everywhere, especially on you, a little birdy told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yelena scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief, “I should’ve known better honestly. He always does this.”

Sunny pushes off her blanket and sits up, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did.” “I don’t want to hear it. It happened and you can’t take it back,” Yelena sighs as she stands and puts distance between them, “I hate to do this but I feel like I don’t have a choice; him or me.”

“You obviously.”

“See I don’t believe you.”

“I promise, it’s you. Whatever I need to do to prove that it’s you, I’ll do it”

Yelena backs away as Sunny stands and tries to get closer. They give each other hurt looks as the other continues to damage the relationship. 

“I don’t believe you or trust him for that matter. Nothing could make me believe that Bucky wouldn’t try and pull something. I won’t be put through that. I’m sorry but I’ll get Bucky to find someone else to watch over you,” Yelena says over her shoulder before slipping back out the window and leaving Sunny fuming.

She wants to scream at the top of her lungs but she can’t risk her neighbors calling the cops so she settles for screaming into her pillow. Her phone distracts her and she’s scrambling to answer it but freezes when she sees that it’s Bucky. 

“Bucky what the fuck?” she growls into her phone. 

“Well hello gorgeous, how are you?”

“Fuck off what did you do?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, what are you talking about?” “You told Yelena that we kissed.”

“No I definitely did not.” “Don’t lie to me.”

“I swear draga, I’m not lying. I haven’t talked to her since yesterday but she’s supposed to be meeting with me in,” he pauses, “half an hour. I’ll talk to her then, but I promise I wouldn’t have told her without first calling you.”

“Give me your phone.”

“I was just starting to actually like Y/N, did I really need to do that?” Jessica groans as she tosses her phone over to Alix. 

“I don’t care what you want to do” Alix mumbles while reading the messages between Jessica and Yelena, “Good job. Any internal conflict we can cause amongst their ranks, the better.”

She hands back the phone as she asks the question that’s been on her mind for hours, “Did she look like she enjoyed it?”

“It’s not like I had a front row seat. I was on the fire escape, how do you expect me to know that?” “I don’t remember asking for any attitude or did you forget who you’re talking to?”

Jessica lets out an over dramatic sigh, “No I didn’t. I’m sorry for giving you attitude.”

Alix smiles to herself at Jessica’s submission, “Good girl.”

Jessica bites her tongue to keep from saying something that will get her kicked out of the pack or worse, given how moody Alix has been lately. 

“I think she was high and you know how the saying goes.”

“Come on,” Alix says unimpressed with Jessica’s read of the situation.

“What? It wouldn’t be a saying if it wasn’t true.” “Drunk actions are sober thoughts? Don’t even try and convince me that her being high was the only reason why she kissed him. She kissed him because she wanted to.” “Alix I really don’t think she has any interest in him.”

Alix growls her warning to stop talking before it gets worse and reclines further into the couch. Regardless of what Sunny may have been feeling when she kissed Bucky, she still did it and that’s far worse of a betrayal to Alix than anything else. During their relationship, Alix had to constantly remind Sunny that she was hers even when that meant leaving bruises and marks.  Sometimes the physical reminders of her place were the only thing Alix to get to work. On numerous occasions, they were the only thing that kept Sunny from leaving the house and kept her out of trouble. 

“Just do what I ask and don’t question me. I am your leader, Jessica, and I’m done with reminding you.”

Jessica scoffs and takes her phone back, “You’re done? I’m the one who’s had to slum it with humans and Strigoi for the last few years.” “And you do it because I told you to. Quit with the complaining. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

“Or what? You’ll send me back to California and then what? You’ll have no one here who is as close to Y/N as I am and you’ll be back at square one or even worse since I’m sure she’s going to find out that you’re here soon enough.”

Within seconds, Alix is off of the couch and has Jessica pinned against a wall, “What did you just say?” “I’m your only shot at getting her back.”

Alix’s hand comes up to grip Jessica’s neck and squeezes hard enough that she starts to gasp for air.

“I don’t need you for anything,” she growls with a deep anger, “I could care less about what happens to you so there is nothing stopping me from exposing who you are to Y/N or the Strigoi and leaving you to fend for yourself. Barnes and Rogers won’t like knowing that an rival spy has been working with that filthy demon spawn of theirs. Do you really want to test me right now?”

With the hand clasped tightly on her throat, she can’t say anything but barely nods and whimpers, something that Alix finds great pleasure in. 

“Good,” she loosens her grip just enough for Jessica to get the air she desperately needs, “Don’t fucking do that again or I won’t be so nice.”

Yelena and Bucky sit across from each other, both waiting for the other to speak first. When she arrived, she made an effort to not say a single word and to maintain her stoic face no matter how piercing his gaze may be. She figured based on his matching behavior that Sunny had called him to tell him that their kiss was no longer a secret. Steve had given them questioning looks when she came in but left nonetheless even if he was concerned for either of their safeties. 

“You know.”

Yelena scoffs, shaking her head as she glances around the room, “Obviously.” “Good then we can be adults about this.”

“Says the one who pouted and threw a tantrum when he found out that we went on a date.”

“I didn’t do either of those things.”

She settles her eyes on him for the first time since she sat down, “So what do you call dragging her into your office and then going to her apartment?” “The first thing is called a conversation and the second is called being a gentleman. I was checking on her.”

“With your tongue down her throat.”

“You did the same thing. I’d say you were throwing a tantrum by bringing her to MY club and kissing her 10 feet away from me.”

“She willingly went out with you, I can’t say the same about you. Also, why did you text me off of a burner?”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, “I didn’t.”

She takes her phone out to show him the text that informed her of the kiss, “Yes you did.”

Bucky takes his own out to prove that he never sent her that text; she kissed me.

“Why would I text you from a burner phone?”

Before Yelena can say anything smart back, the door to his office bursts open. A fuming Steve throws the door open and all but slams his phone down on the table. 

“Jessica knows Alix.”

On it is an old picture of Jessica hugging Alix, both smiling like little kids.

Yelena squints at the image, “Where did you get this?” “Peggy found it. I’m not sure where but she just sent it to me. We need to get Sunny to a safe house immediately.”

They look to Bucky who is already half way out of the door. The one person he trusted outside of his people has proven to be the most dangerous person he could imagine. 

[lilimonarch]

Overthinking the Injury - Haikyu!! Oneshot

WC: ~4452

Yaku has been overthinking a little too much lately. His fencing performance has not been to par and he needs to redeem himself if they have any hope of qualifying for nationals. He has his strategies planned out and everything is going to according to plan! Well... until he hears a cracking sound on the strip and realizes it's from his ankle.

Or

Yaku sprains his ankle at a fencing meet but decides to keep going anyways.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56901724

~

Yaku has been overthinking everything as of lately.

School was being more annoying than it should be, his fencing was not as good as it should be, and the Nekoma Men’s Fencing team was on a very annoying losing streak as of lately. If there is something Yaku hated more than his perfectly functional techniques not doing their job, it was losing, as a team. Of course, in preparations to hopefully break their losing streak, Nekoma was up against Nohebi Academy this weekend… with Coach Nekomata unavailable, and Kuroo was stressed.

This left the big three; Yaku, Kai, and Kuroo, in the locker room on Friday night with their captain pacing back and forth, overthinking everything almost as bad as Yaku was, at this point of the evening. “Guys what if I like… die,” Kuroo looks at his fellow third years, his squad, with a look of idiotic worry. “Who’s going to coach the second years and do all this work if I die?”

“Your vice-captain, me.” Kai sighs.

“You’re not going to die,” Yaku rolled his eyes, but deep down, anxiety was eating at him. He knew he was off his game, and if they continued this losing streak (half of which was Yaku’s fault, he swears it), he could kiss their shot at nationals goodbye. “Just don’t get injured between now and tomorrow, we beat Nohebi, and then all is right in the world.”

Kai shakes his head, locking up the room as the three of them exit and start to finally call it a night. “Yeah, we’ve just got to hold the fort down. We can last one competition without Coach. You got this, substitute coach Kuroo,” Kai gives a gentle punch at Kuroo, only feeding into Kuroo’s shenanigans.

“Damn… it sounds like I got demoted. Captain sounded way cooler!”

The three of them start to walk home, and Yaku notices his mind starting to wander. It wanders to their last meet the weekend prior against Fukurodani, losing an embarrassing 2-7, and much to everyone’s surprise, Yaku couldn’t snag a single bout. Sure, all his bouts were close, two 5-4 losses and a 5-3 loss against Bokuto, but that was terrible! He was considered one of Nekoma’s best, how did he manage to fumble all his bouts the week prior… that badly?

Practice this past week was not much better. He kept consistently losing to Kuroo, the only person who was much of a challenge on their team, and he even let Lev score two whole points on him. Lev! If Lev is even managing to score points on him, it must be a terrible practice.

It's just a slump, Yaku figures. He just needed to get his groove back and all would be right in the world. All he had to do was get it together, try a little harder, and not be the reason Nekoma did not qualify for nationals because of their regular season record.

“Yaku?”

Yaku shakes his head, and he realizes he is standing at the intersection where he is supposed to turn while the others continue forward. He was totally overthinking it all again. "Gosh, sorry guys. I must have zoned out. I’ll see y’all tomorrow,” he flashes a grin and starts to turn away but is stopped by a gentle tap on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“We got this,” Kuroo reminds him, giving a dorky thumbs up. “Nohebi? It’s lightwork. We got tomorrow in the bag.”

“Oh… right. Of course we do!”

~

This meet was far from being considered lightwork.

With Kuroo running from one end of the gym to the other to make sure all the sheets were filled out to each squad’s liking, and Kai being off making sure the blades passed weights, it left Yaku alone in his thoughts to overthink his strategies until it was time to face the Men’s Nohebi Academy Fencing team: Kuguri, Numai, and that bitch called Daishou.

Yaku stammers at the thoughts. No, be polite. It’s Kuguri, Numai, and Daishou. Just their captain.

Of course, Yaku was the first one on the strip, against the bitch.

He knew Nohebi Academy and Nekoma had their… rivalries, to put it lightly. Especially Daishou and Kuroo specifically, which extended to the rest of the main lineup. With Daishou being their captain and likely their best player, the feeling could be described as annoyed when Yaku figured he had to go first.

No matter, he’s fenced Daishou before, and beaten him. He’s got this.

The referee is about to start the clock. “On guard. Fencers ready? Fence!”

The first of many exchanges had begun and Yaku, finally, seemed to be getting his groove back. The first point was his! The second point was his! He was winning 2-0 in the first match of the day with no issues!

Maybe we do have this in the bag.

“On guard. Fencers ready? Fence!”

Out of the gate of this exchange, Daishou is practically charging at him. Yaku’s eyes widen in surprise as the sudden attack completely catches him off-guard, and Daishou scores his first point. Even beneath the mask, Yaku can vividly see the evil smirk from his opponent. Almost as if… he’s being mocked!

That bitch!

Okay… in and out. It’s just one point. We just have to go back to what we were doing before. It was working, no problem!

Yaku takes another deep breath, gets into position, and the next exchange begins. Strategic movements turn into attacks of desperation, as Daishou scores again and again. Here, the overthinking began again, because in theory, Yaku should be winning the match! He’s doing everything right and correct but Daishou can just run in and take points which should be rightfully his? Yaku was winning 2-0 before, how is he trailing 2-3 now?

“Yaku! Shake it off!” Kuroo shouted from the sidelines, Yaku nodding from underneath his helmet and banging the sides of his legs. He’s better than this, and with the way the match is going, he can’t afford to lose, especially not to Daishou.

It was eternally frustrating, watching his opponent rush in recklessly and still score those points. The worst part of it all, Yaku knew that was Daishou’s game, to bring his spirits low enough to where the bout would be lost, and he would be off his game for the rest of the match!

Daishou was taller, and would have point priority from the start, but Yaku was quicker. Sure, Daishou was good at offense, but Yaku was great at defense. All he had to do was retreat faster than Daishou could advance. All he had to do was use the open distance to hit that stupid blade and go in for the attack.

All he had to do was work a little harder.

“On guard.”

Yaku took a deep breath in, feeling the flow of his blood throughout his body, his presence anchored to the ground.

“Fencers ready?”

He extended his blade, bringing it back to position with the tip of the foil aimed for his opponent’s eye-level. He was not going to lose.

“Fence!”

As predicted, Daishou practically ran at him right out of the gate, but Yaku was prepared this time. His back foot retreated, followed by his front, repeated until he felt the space open up for him-

Crack!

It all happened too fast for Yaku to even understand what happened. One second, he was retreating on the strip, attempting to open the distance to prepare his parry-repost. The next, he had heard a crack-like noise from his left ankle before he came crumbling to the ground, his entire side hitting the gym floor with a bang.

He didn’t hear the halt! From the referee. He didn’t hear how the rest of the gym went silent. All Yaku felt was the instant throbbing in his ankle, the odd sensation not perfectly described as pain, but a numbness.

Yaku immediately went to sit up from where he was pathetically laying on the ground, going to clutch his ankle while he watched Kuroo jump up from his spot on the sidelines. “Yaku!” He shouted, rushing to his side with a spare hoodie in hand. “Don’t get up too quickly, okay? Does it hurt?”

Yaku looked up, still trying to formulate his words and compose himself after the adrenaline spike while Kuroo used the hoodie like a sling, lifting up Yaku’s ankle and elevating it as the referee neared the duo, Daishou standing at the other end of the trip with a look of almost concerned. “Do you need five minutes? We can call a medical timeout and…”

A medical timeout?

“We’ll take the five minutes,” Kuroo answered, the referee setting a clock for five minutes. While they waited for the athletic trainer to arrive, Yaku just sat there, acknowledging the growing awkward feeling in his ankle.

No, this can’t be happening! It’s just a little twist, I moved it wrong. It’s not actually sprained. Not now! Not like this!

“Yaku.”

He blinked a few times, looking up to see Kuroo lowering the makeshift sling, the medical trainer now standing between the two of them. “Hi, Yaku, let’s see what’s going on with you, okay? What happened?” She asked, and Yaku tightened his fists as he tried to form the words.

“I fell on it.”

On the inside, his brain was running a million miles an hour. He’s never needed a trainer before, he’s never missed a competition before, he’s never had to forfeit! What if he has to forfeit this match, what if he’s benched? There is nobody at his level who can replace him, they would be absolutely screwed! He could kiss their chance at nationals goodbye and it would be entirely his fault!

Oh my God, Kuroo was left in charge! The one meet where Kuroo was left in charge of the team, Yaku goes and gets injured! He’s screwed!

The trainer brought her hands to Yaku’s ankle, pressing down on an area he already felt swollen up, Yaku doing his best to suppress a wince at the awkwardness. That’s what worried him the most. It was not exactly pain; it was something else. He was not sure if not being able to feel the pain was a good thing or a bad thing. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad does it hurt?”

Seven.

“…Three?”

Again, it didn’t necessarily hurt. It was more an awkward feeling of his muscles being ripped apart on the inside, but maybe the pain was starting to set in. Yaku figured that it would be fine, he could still fence… right?

“I think you’re fine.”

Oh, thank God.

Slowly, Yaku got up on his feet, slightly staggering as he tried to stabilize his left foot again. His eyes move to the score on the strip, down 3-2. He hasn’t scored a point in over a minute. “You ready to go?” The referee asks him, ushering Kuroo back to the sides.

Yaku holds the helmet in his hands, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest and the continuing throbbing in his ankle. He looks at where Kuroo is sitting on the edge of his seat, a face of worry. Shifting his stance so his weight is balanced better, Yaku flashes a smile at his squad before turning to the director and giving them a thumbs up.

“Alright. On guard, fencers ready?”

It’s only the first bout, and Yaku hates how unsteady he feels on his feet. That being said, it was not as if he had better options. He would not be caught dead losing his only bout just to get injured.

Not yet at least.

“Fence!”

Once again, Daishou is practically charging at him with his blade far out leaving his body open. Yaku attempts to retreat once but feels this numbness start to grow, crouching down on instinct and stabbing up as Daishou does not have time to stop himself.

Two seconds and a sigh of relief later, the point is awarded to Yaku. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from outwardly wincing as he returns to the starting line of the strip, gripping his blade extra tight.

“Nice! Good job!”

“Way to go, Yaku! That’s how we do it!”

That’s the reason he did this. This sport was practically his everything… and he was plenty good at it too. The added bonus was watching that smirk wipe itself off of Daishou’s face. Yaku was back in this.

Back in it enough to win.

He wins. He watches as Daishou walks away in defeat, and the bouts continue on and Kunimi is easy enough to beat.

He wins again.

His ankle is getting worse.

Yaku keeps overthinking.

“Damn, you can’t be serious, why is it always on me?” Yaku rolls his eyes and groans at the realization that both Nekoma and Nohebi were completely tied 4-4, and the winner would be determined by this final bout; Yaku’s final bout. “Kuroo, how do you sell to Daishou? You said you were going to beat him 5-0!”

Kuroo huffs as he sits down on the bench with a huff as Kai helps Yaku hook into the machinery, sneaking worried glances while Kuroo rants about his damaged ego. “I don’t see you criticizing Kai for selling too!”

Yaku rolled his eyes, shifting his weight onto his good foot as he clipped the wires on. “Well at least he got points, Kuroo.”

“Okay… so it was bad. Just focus on your game, little guy.”

“Oh- you little…”

Kai gives Yaku a pat on the shoulder, Yaku wincing at the sudden increase of weight on him. “Are you okay?”

No.

Stop overthinking it. You’re fine.

“Yes,” Yaku forces a smile, even though his ankle is starting to kill him. “I’ll be okay.”

Yaku heads up to the strip, Nohebi’s anchor on the other end. He was taller and stronger, and a much more offensive player (as Nohebi does, Yaku can’t help he will always be a defender first). While the bout proves incredibly difficult at first, Yaku manages to get his footing with a healthy lead of 4-1.

It’s as if his past matches have come to hunt him when his ankle starts to throb.

It’s the desperation as his injury worsens to get that final point and get the hell off the strip.

Yaku will admit it later, it was a reckless first lunge forward which is the start of the change in pace. He stumbles a bit on the lunge, leaving his torso wide open for a counterattack from Numai.

Current score: 4-2.

“Shake it off! Focus!”

The next exchange begins, and Yaku is advancing further into the other side of the strip, holding his blade out in hopes of that final point. When Numai advances towards him, Yaku rushes in for an attack which is quickly parried as another hit lands in the center of his chest.

Current score: 4-3.

“Come on! Watch your distance!”

Yaku can feel the pressure building up, and the ache in his foot as he is practically limping back to the starting line of the strip. He can feel eyes looking down on him, as if he is weak.

He’s not weak. It’s just a slump.

His breath is shaky as he gets into position again, giving a nod to the referee to show that he is okay, he has to be. Once again, Yaku is rushing it, but so is Numai. The distance is closing in and the shouts of his teammates begging Yaku to get out of that battle, to reassess his options before going in again, go unheard.

The infighting continues, and Yaku is pushed down in hopes of getting a clean shot in the flurry of remises when he is aiming from a lower level. His back knee is touching the ground as Yaku desperately tries to hit something, anything to end the exchange.

Crack!

Yaku’s ankle twists the wrong way, feeling the bang as the side of his foot hits the floor.

The machine blares white, an off target from Yaku’s side.

Current score: 4-3.

Yaku shouts in agony before he falls to his knees, clenching his fists as he tries to catch his breath, the pain traveling from his foot up to his lower leg. His vision blurs from the pain as tears threaten to pour right in the middle of the strip. Yaku’s used up his only medical time out, he can’t back out now.

In the corner of his vision, he sees Kuroo jump up and call a timeout, the referee nodding before she can card him for the outburst. “Yaku, just breathe. Alright, I’m going to help you up and then we’re going to talk strategy,” Kuroo brings his hands to Yaku’s, slowly getting him back on his feet.

For the first time in ages, Yaku is genuinely doubting himself. His breath is heavy, beads of sweat are pouring down his forehead, and his hands are visibly shaking. “I’m so sorry, Kuroo,” he mutters, looking at his opponent across the strip. “I don’t think I got it.”

“Oh, shut up, you got this in the bag. Lightwork, remember?” Kuroo leans down a bit and forcibly lays his hands on each of Yaku’s shoulders, pushing weight down to stabilize him properly. “You got this. You’re the one who’s up, remember? Why the hell are you trying to force that last point when you’re winning and there’s only 15 seconds left? Especially on an injury, just play defense. Wait for him to mess up, he’s the one rushing for a point, not you.”

“Timeouts over, on guard?”

“You got this.”

Once again, Yaku is left alone on the strip.

His breath is shaking as Numai stands across the strip, getting back to where they stood before that unexpected pause. Behind the mask, Yaku watches as Numai flashes him a smile, genuine even.

Right, I’m up. I got this.

“Fencers ready?”

Play defense, Yaku. You’re good at defense, just do that.

“Fence!”

Immediately, Yaku holds his blade out, threatening a touch as he slowly retreats backwards, biting the inside of his cheek as his ankle throbs with ever step. 15… 14… 13… 12… There are only 11 seconds on the clock now as Numai cautiously tries to find the opening to tie the game.

Defense. Just play defense.

10 seconds left and Numai charges in with his blade too low. There! That’s the opportunity Yaku was waiting for! A quick tap on his blade and the tip is flying straight to the middle of Numai’s chest. The opening has never been clearer as the buzzer in the background goes off, glowing with a satisfying green.

“Touch left. Score is five to three, bout,” the referee finally lowers their hands signifying the end, and Yaku breathes a much-needed sigh of relief. Taking off his helmet, he brings it under his arm and goes to shake Numai’s hand.

They won! Losing streak? Eradicated. They won and nothing went wrong! Yaku is practically beaming as he makes it back to his teammates, but collapsing right into Kuroo’s waiting arms, his ankle absolutely doing him no favors.

Shit. Almost forgot about that part.

“Yeah, sit the hell down. We’re getting the trainer back, and you’re not getting on strip again for a while,” Kuroo sits Yaku down, Kai propping Yaku’s left leg on the rest of the bench.

“What? Kuroo, I swear I’m-” a shock of pain soars in his leg, and Yaku is immediately shut up. “But what about shaking hands? Signing scores?”

Kai shook his head, ruffling Yaku’s hair much to his dismay. “I got that. You don’t move a muscle,” the vice-captain nods before heading to the referee to do all the sportsmanlike activities while Kuroo runs to get the athletic trainer. It leaves Yaku alone to gather his thoughts, trying to take his mind off the never-ending pain in his ankle.

What if he’s out for longer because he pushed himself too hard?

What if he hadn’t, and they had lost? What if this was the deciding match before their win-loss record became too low and they were out of the running for nationals?

What if when he returns, he won’t be able to fence the same way he did before?

“Um… Yaku?”

Yaku blinks a few times before adjusting the ice on his ankle, looking around him to see the three players from Nohebi Academy surrounding him, Numai being the first to hold his hand out for a handshake which Yaku accepts. “Good game, hope the ankle is not too bad. I just came back from an injury; I know how much it sucks.”

“Yeah, thanks. Good game,” Yaku is typically the much more talkative one, but now, he can hardly muster the energy to do anything but briefly compliment his opponents and shake their hands before laying down across the bench, waiting for Kuroo to return, with Kai to keep him company.

He even shook Daishou’s hand. That really took a lot out of him.

“You really pushed yourself there, didn’t you?” Kai comments, sitting on the bench beside Yaku, taking an absentminded swig from his water bottle. Post-match fatigue was no joke, but that’s just Yaku overthinking it again. “We would’ve found someone to sub you in. I’m sure Yamamoto would’ve jumped at the idea of being on the main lineup and delivered…” he pauses. “Or were you overthinking everything again?”

Yaku’s face lifts up at the thought, glancing at Kai who had this all-knowing soft smile only someone like Kai could wear. “How did you…”

“It’s obvious. Both you and Kuroo were stressed out of your minds about this. Him more outwardly than you, but it’s pretty easy to see,” he chuckles, handing Yaku his water bottle.

“This means everything to him… and to me. I haven’t been doing the greatest at practice, I wanted to redeem myself!” Yaku sighs, bringing his hand to try and ease the pain in his ankle. “I’m usually so reliable, last week really shook me up. And now?”

“You like fencing, right?”

“Yeah! Of course!”

“Then remember that part first. It’s a sport, stop overthinking it. Sure, there are all the strategies, but you’re just a good fencer. It’ll get you out of your head,” Kai smiles, Yaku absentmindedly nodding at the advice before seeing Kuroo start to make his way back.

“Yaku! How are you doing, buddy? Hanging in there?” Kuroo jumps up from the side, the same athletic trainer from earlier arriving.

“Hanging in there is one way to put it.”

The trainer shoos the two other members of the varsity lineup to the side, repeating the same process as earlier in the day. “I want you to be honest this time when I ask if it hurts, okay?” She sighs, rather exasperated. If Yaku was not going to before, the glares from Kuroo and Kai are enough to keep him honest. The trainer moves her hands to the middle of the ankle, before Yaku immediately winces at the touch. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s pretty swollen, definitely a sprain. I’m going to wrap it up for you, and I’m sure your lovely teammates can help with your stuff and making sure you don’t put any weight on that for a while.”

Yaku feels his heart sink. No weight on it, how is he supposed to train? “Any? But…”

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll make sure he stays off of it. Right, Kai?” Kuroo smiles and Kai nods, the trainer finishing the wrap and taking the ice away, giving a quick smile to the three of them before leaving them be.

“Guys, I swear I’m okay,” Yaku gives a nervous laughter, moving his foot down to the ground and attempting to get up, immediately being stopped by Kuroo.

Kuroo shakes his head, looking at how the rest of their team is doing at the meet. “No, Yaku. You’re deflecting. It’s fine, stop overthinking it. You’ll be back before you know it. If that’s not before next competition, that’s okay too. We’ll manage.”

Yaku looks at the sincere look from Kai, many nods of agreement from Kuroo, and lifts his leg back up to be elevated and lays against the bench. He brings his hand to cover his face as silent tears start to pour. “Yaku? Are you okay?” Kai asks.

“Of course I am! It’s just, the gym lights are bright. Pollen making my eyes water,” he chuckles, though the words come out in between sobs. Yaku can’t even tell why he is crying: if it’s the pain in his ankle, the constant overthinking, or everything finally settling in, and he did not actually fail his team.

He’ll be okay.

A few minutes go by and Yaku finally composes himself, sitting up and seeing the younger squad across the gym. He’s trying to get a good look at the strip, but there are too many people in the way and it’s hard to see from his current spot. “Guys, can we go watch the second year’s match?” Yaku asks, gesturing to his wrapped ankle.

Kuroo immediately grins, but instead of sling Yaku’s arms over his shoulder like expected, he goes down and swoops and Yaku up into his arms, carrying him easily. “Oh my gosh, Kuroo! What are you doing?” Yaku shouts, giving annoyed glances to both him and Kai, who is bursting with laughter on the sides.

“The trainer said no weight on it, I’m just doing my job and making sure of it,” Kuroo shrugs, carrying Yaku across the gym with Kai close behind, giggling relentlessly. “Just stop and relax. Who’s going to judge?”

Yaku huffed, but his shoulders sank, and he finally relaxed. Kuroo sat him down on the bleachers closer to where Kenma, Fukunaga, and Yamamoto were fencing. For the first time in a while, he wasn’t overthinking anything.

Maybe a break doesn’t sound too bad-

“Fuck. Guys, I think you actually have to prepare my funeral,” Kuroo exclaims slightly dramatically, curling up and covering his face. “I think I’m going to die.”

“Kuroo?” Kai turns at the captain’s antics. “What are you even talking about?”

“The one meet where Coach Nekomata leaves me in charge, our best player gets injured… and continues on an injury! On my watch! He’s going to kill me!” Kuroo shouts, groaning at the prospect.

“Yeah… shit. My bad, you’re actually screwed,” Yaku jokes, much to the annoyance of Kuroo.

“Not helping!” Kuroo huffs, leaving the other two laughing in the middle of the bout, Yaku’s smile going from ear to ear.

For real this time, maybe a break doesn’t sound too bad.

[xirayn]

Like Biting Bats (Very Metal)

Read Ch 1 of the full fic here

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Featuring @aibhlynn as Eddie

"Your handwriting blows.”

They are sitting on Eddie’s bed with the promise of dinner and a full playthrough of Talking Heads' album fulfilled. Steve tilts his head one way and the paper the other as he squints at the graphite scratches that are supposed to be words. It doesn’t help and Steve is starting to second guess agreeing to this.

Eddie scoffs and elbows him in the ribs.

“Are you backing out because you can’t read my chicken scratch, Big Boy?” It’s a challenge loaded with an affectionate tease.

“No.”

Steve’s tongue kisses the back of his teeth as he looks over the lyrics. Beside him, Eddie pulls his hair up into a messy twist that he secures with a spare pencil. He slings an arm over broad shoulders as he leans in for a better look. Steve tries to ignore how his focus shifts to the warm weight of Eddie against him. All he needs to do is turn his head to touch their lips, which isn’t a new thought. Eddie is an important friend, though, and Steve isn’t risking that; especially not when he is still figuring out if he is bi or just curious.

“I just can’t read your fucking writing,” he mutters. An incisor presses into the side of his lip.

Eddie’s chuckle is felt more than heard. “I’ll get a typewriter.”

The sight of that incisor draws Eddie in. It conspires with the smell of Steve’s aftershave to fuel his own desire to lean in and cover that expressive mouth with his own. The need to learn what Steve tastes like, the sounds he makes when being consumed slow and meaningfully as opposed to quick and passionately, burns up Eddie’s spine. He swings away before he self immolates.

“That can’t be all.”

Steve slumps back on the bed with relief swirling with disappointment at the loss of contact. “Singing your songs is just different.”

More meaningful for being Eddie’s.

“You’ll be fine, Pretty Boy.”

The words cause a swoop of affection that soars up through Steve at the smile Eddie shoots him over his shoulder. He watches as Eddie swaps the cassette in the player for the one that Corroded Coffin recorded. He presses rewind before grabbing his guitar.

“We’ll do a quick playthrough tonight and Friday I’ll show you a few other songs. You’ll pick it up no sweat,” Eddie assures. The mattress dips beside Steve beneath Eddie's weight. “Though, we are going to have to do something about your look.”

“I figured that was coming.” Steve watches Eddie’s fingers move over the neck of his sweetheart to warm up. His mind translates notes and chords without hearing them and Steve misses playing. Really, he’s missed it since his father told him to grow up. “Or are you just trying to get rid of my polos? Embarrassed to be seen with a preppy boy in public?”

“Nah, your polos suit you.” Eddie laughs. “But you can’t be the frontman of a heavy metal band in them.”

His fingers leave the frets and he studies Steve. They’ll have to see if any of his own clothing will fit. They are close enough in size that it is possible, at least for shirts and jackets, but jeans might not work.

“And nothing about you is embarrassing.” The words fall from Eddie’s lips without any irony or sarcasm. Despite their differences, Eddie likes being seen in public with this particular preppy boy. It feels good to show off that Steve chooses to spend time with him and reminds him that he’s worth something. “Not even your dumb polos.”

Steve’s attention moves from Eddie’s fingers to his eyes. A slow smile almost shyly pulls up the corner of his mouth.

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