#Jokes aside casual reminder that it's okay not to know or notice everything about something you really enjoy.

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Cheerleader Extraordinaire

Okay, hear me out: Tim deciding to try out for the college cheerleading team.

It starts out as a joke. Maybe Danny and Tim are at one of Danny’s football games, and Tim’s casually making some witty comment about the cheer routines. Danny, of course, being the chaotic boyfriend he is, goes, “Bet you couldn’t do half of that.”

Oh? well then, challenge accepted.

Tim’s been training for years—gymnastics, acrobatics, fighting crime on the regular—it’s not like a few flips and jumps are going to be any trouble for him. Plus, there’s something about the high-energy, peppy atmosphere that lowkey appeals to Tim. The chance to just let loose for a bit? Why not?

So, Tim being Tim, fully commits to the idea. He starts practicing routines, learning the cheers, and by the time tryouts roll around, he’s ready. Danny’s all supportive, of course, sitting in the bleachers with the biggest grin because this is Tim we’re talking about, and he’s about to blow everyone’s minds.

And he does.

The other cheerleaders? Absolutely shook. Tim’s out there pulling off flips, doing perfect jumps, and landing everything like he’s been doing this for years. He even throws in some crazy acrobatics just for the fun of it. Needless to say, Tim makes the team—no one can argue with those skills.

Then comes the uniform. The iconic moment.

Most of the men on the team wear shorts, but Tim, being Tim, decides to rock the skirt version of the uniform because why not? He likes the look, it’s more flexible, and he might as well commit to the whole look as well. And besides, he’s Tim Drake. He’s not going to let gender norms stop him from looking fabulous.

Cue Danny absolutely losing it.

Like, Danny was supportive before, but now? Oh no, now he’s flustered beyond reason. He didn’t expect this level of power move from Tim. When Tim shows up to the next game, wearing the cheerleading skirt, looking ridiculously good with those legs, flipping around with that same cool confidence—Danny can’t handle it. His brain? Fried. He can’t even focus on the game because every time Tim moves, Danny’s heart skips about three beats.

There’s a part of Danny that’s just beaming with pride because that’s his boyfriend out there, but there’s also this tiny, flustered part of him that’s a little jealous too. Now the whole campus gets to see how freaking amazing Tim looks in that cheer uniform, and Danny’s like, “Great, now I have to share this sight with the rest of the world.”

Tim, of course, notices. He can see Danny getting distracted on the field, shooting him these flustered glances, and Tim just smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and if wearing the skirt gets that kind of reaction from his boyfriend, he’s definitely keeping it.

The best part? After the game, when Danny finally gets a chance to pull Tim aside. He’s trying to play it cool, but it’s obvious that he’s still a little jealous and way too flustered. He wraps Tim in his varsity jacket, tugging him close and muttering something about how now everyone gets to see Tim like that—but then immediately follows it up with a kiss because he’s still Danny and loves every second of it.

And Tim? He’s living for it. The cheerleading, the attention, Danny’s flustered reactions—it’s all just too good. Now, every game, Tim rocks that skirt uniform, flips and cheers like the pro he is, and Danny’s just the supportive (and slightly jealous) boyfriend watching from the field.

They’re the campus couple—the star quarterback and his cheerleader boyfriend, always hyping each other up, and now, every time Danny looks over at Tim mid-game, he’s reminded that, yep, Tim’s his, skirt and all.

[insidekatmind]

Just a kiss recited~Jonathan deviss

You’re on the Outer Banks set, just a few feet away from Jonathan, who’s focused on reading over his lines with a serious expression. Your “rivalry” has become legendary among the cast and crew—a palpable tension that no one misses. Jonathan is Pope, and you’re Aria. On screen, you’re a couple: intense, complicated, passionate. But off-screen? Far from it.

You sigh as you go over your lines, annoyed at the thought of another day filming scenes with him. As usual, he doesn’t seem to notice you—or worse, he only does so to provoke you.

The director, well aware of this tension, has made an unexpected decision: he’s added more kissing scenes throughout the story. He wants to take advantage of every ounce of “chemistry” between you, and he never misses a chance to joke about how this tension makes your characters feel more authentic.

When the director announces the kiss scene rehearsal, you hear Jonathan mutter, “Ah, my favorite part of the day… can’t wait.” He throws you a sarcastic look, with a small, smug smile.

“Don’t overdo it, Pope,” you reply, crossing your arms, answering his smirk with a sharp glance. “It’s just a professional kiss, right?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, sure,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear, “strictly professional, Aria.”

The director cuts in, stopping your bickering with a wave of his hand. “Okay, guys, ready? I want it intense. This isn’t a casual kiss: Pope and Aria are lost in each other here.”

You feel a slight tension in your chest but push it aside. It’s just a scene, you remind yourself. You do this every day.

You both move into position in front of the camera. Jonathan looks at you, and for a moment your eyes meet. There’s a glint of challenge in his gaze, like he wants to prove something to you, like this is a personal challenge.

“And… action!” the director calls out.

Jonathan moves closer, his hands sliding along the sides of your face with a gentleness that catches you off guard. You feel his breath brush your lips, and when his mouth finally meets yours, everything around you fades. The kiss is slow, soft at first, but there’s something underneath—a passion building, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment. It’s a kiss that grows deeper, more intense.

You should stop, pull away, but you can’t. He holds you a bit tighter, and you respond without even thinking. The line between fiction and reality blurs, and you’re no longer sure if you’re Aria kissing Pope or just you kissing Jonathan.

When you finally break apart, there’s a silence all around. The director watches you, looking a bit surprised, before saying, “Uh, right… yes, I’d say that worked.”

Jonathan looks at you with that cocky smile that always makes you boil with frustration and, somehow, leaves you speechless. “Not bad for a professional kiss, huh?”

You cross your arms, trying to collect yourself. “Don’t get a big head, Davis. It was just a kiss.”

“Oh, of course,” he murmurs, leaning just slightly closer. “But you know… we could try again, just to make it even better.”

You hold your breath, feeling your heart race as you look him in the eyes. And although you want to come back with a sharp retort, something tells you that this “rivalry” is only just beginning.

[needmusictosurvive]

Unseen connections

✰- Word Count: 5000

✰- Summary: Paige Bueckers has been in love with her best friend Azzi Fudd for years, but despite their close bond, Azzi remains unaware of Paige's feelings. As they navigate their final season together at UConn, the tension builds, and Paige must confront her emotions before it’s too late.

✰- Warnings: idk I don't remember wrote this yesterday

My Master list

✦✧✦

Paige Bueckers adjusted her ponytail as she stepped onto the court, the familiar echo of sneakers on hardwood a welcome sound. The gym buzzed with energy; teammates were laughing and joking, the atmosphere alive with anticipation for the upcoming season. But amidst the excitement, a knot of anxiety twisted in Paige's stomach.

It was the start of their final year at UConn, a season they had both dreamed of since their high school days. But while everyone else focused on the championship, Paige couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out—not just for their basketball career, but for something much more personal.

Paige's gaze drifted across the court, landing on Azzi Fudd, who was engaged in a playful argument with their teammate. The way Azzi’s laughter rang out, bright and infectious, sent a warmth flooding through Paige. It was a sound she cherished, but it also stung, reminding her of the love she had harbored for years—unspoken and unreturned, at least as far as she knew.

“Hey, Bueckers! Earth to Paige!” A voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Startled, Paige turned to find Caroline Ducharme standing beside her, an amused smile on her face. “You okay? You’ve been zoning out a lot lately.”

“Yeah, just thinking,” Paige replied, trying to sound casual.

“About what? How to score more points than Azzi this season?” Caroline teased, nudging her shoulder.

Paige laughed lightly but felt her heart race at the mention of Azzi. “Something like that.”

Caroline’s brow furrowed, her expression shifting to concern. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve seemed… different since we got back.”

Paige bit her lip, torn between wanting to confide in Caroline and fearing the implications. “I’m fine, really. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Alright, just checking. You know I’m here if you need to talk,” Caroline said, giving her a supportive smile before heading off to join the others.

As practice began, Paige tried to focus, pushing her feelings aside. They ran drills, her eyes constantly drawn to Azzi. The way she moved on the court, so fluid and confident, was mesmerizing. But it was more than just basketball; it was everything about her. The way her hair swayed as she made a layup, the intensity in her eyes during a game, and that easy laughter that made Paige’s heart skip.

By the end of practice, Paige was drenched in sweat and frustration. She needed to find a way to tell Azzi how she felt, but the fear of ruining their friendship held her back. It was as if there were a barrier between them that Paige could see but Azzi couldn’t.

✦✧✦

As weeks turned into months, the season progressed, and so did the tension between Paige and Azzi. Their on-court chemistry was undeniable, drawing attention from fans and commentators alike. They became a headline duo, the perfect blend of talent and teamwork. Off the court, however, Paige’s heartache grew.

The team had become a close-knit family, with late-night study sessions and movie marathons filling their time away from practice. Yet, every time they laughed together, shared a secret glance, or sat side by side, Paige felt the weight of her unspoken love grow heavier.

“Hey, Bueckers! You ready for the game tonight?” Azzi asked one afternoon as they lounged in their dorm room.

“Of course,” Paige replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. I need my lucky charm,” Azzi joked, throwing a pillow at her.

Paige caught it, her heart racing. “I’ll always be your lucky charm, Azzi.”

Azzi smiled, but Paige couldn’t help but notice the way her friend’s eyes sparkled with innocence, unaware of the deeper implications behind Paige’s words. It was moments like this that made it clear to Paige just how much she cherished their friendship—and how desperately she wished it could evolve into something more.

As the season progressed, their bond only deepened. But so did Paige’s frustration. Everyone else could see the chemistry—the lingering touches, the way they always gravitated toward each other. Even Caroline had taken to teasing them about their “couple vibes,” but Azzi remained blissfully unaware.

One night, after a particularly intense game where Paige had scored the winning basket, the team celebrated with a dinner at a local restaurant. Laughter filled the air, but Paige found it hard to fully join in. She watched Azzi as she engaged with their teammates, her smile lighting up the room, and felt a pang of longing.

“Paige, you good?” Caroline’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Paige forced a smile. “Yeah, just tired from the game.”

“You’re not tired; you’re just in love,” Caroline teased, winking at her.

The words hung in the air, heavy and laden with truth. Paige’s heart raced, and she couldn’t help but glance at Azzi. “I’m not—”

“Come on, it’s obvious,” Caroline pressed, her tone softer now. “You need to tell her how you feel.”

Paige’s chest tightened at the thought. “What if it ruins everything? What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

Caroline frowned. “You’ll never know if you don’t try. You both deserve to be happy.”

The conversation weighed heavily on Paige’s mind as the night went on. The laughter and cheers from her teammates felt distant, and the food tasted bland. The thought of confessing loomed over her like a dark cloud, pushing her further into uncertainty.

✦✧✦

Days turned into weeks, and the pressure built within Paige. She was running out of time, and the end of the season felt inevitable. They were gearing up for the championship, the culmination of years of hard work and dedication. But for Paige, it was also the final opportunity to tell Azzi how she truly felt.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Paige found herself sitting alone on the bleachers, lost in thought. The gym was emptying out as teammates filtered out, laughing and talking. Azzi, however, lingered, her focus on the court, practicing her free throws.

Paige watched her, heart in her throat. This was her moment.

“Azzi!” Paige called, her voice echoing slightly.

Azzi turned, surprise evident on her face. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Can we talk?” Paige asked, trying to sound casual despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

“Sure,” Azzi said, walking over and sitting beside her.

Paige took a deep breath, the words ready to spill out. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“Okay…” Azzi prompted, her eyes curious.

“I just—” Paige hesitated, the weight of her feelings pressing down on her. “I feel like we’ve gotten really close this year.”

Azzi smiled, nodding. “Yeah, it’s been awesome. You’re my best friend, Paige.”

Best friend. The words stung, but Paige pressed on. “And I love being your best friend, but it’s more than that for me.”

Azzi’s brow furrowed, confusion etched on her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I think I’m in love with you, Azzi,” Paige said, her heart pounding in her chest.

Silence enveloped them, and the world outside faded away. Azzi blinked, processing the words. “You… love me?”

Paige nodded, her throat dry. “I have for a long time. Since high school, really. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Azzi’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise, and then she laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Oh, Paige. I had no idea. I thought you were just being a good friend.”

Paige’s heart sank, the laughter cutting deep. “So you don’t feel the same?”

Azzi looked genuinely perplexed. “I don’t know! I mean, I care about you so much, but I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“Really?” Paige asked, the disappointment evident in her voice.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been so focused on basketball that I haven’t thought about… us.” Azzi ran a hand through her hair, clearly flustered.

Paige felt tears pricking at her eyes. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just thought… I thought maybe…”

Azzi reached for Paige’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Wait, don’t cry. I care about you so much, and I’m not saying it’s impossible. I just need time to process.”

“Time?” Paige echoed, feeling a mix of hope and despair. “What if the season ends and I don’t get another chance?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” Azzi replied, her eyes earnest. “You’re too important to me, Paige. Let’s not rush this. We’ve got the championship ahead of us, and I want to focus on that first.”

Paige nodded, swallowing her disappointment. “Okay, I understand.”

As they sat in silence, hands entwined, the gym felt less empty. It was a small comfort, but it was something. Maybe they wouldn’t resolve everything tonight, but at least they were

✦✧✦

Ok so yeach that was that if y'all want pt. 2 just say bc if u don't I won't write on anyways love yall

[tryingtofindava]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: soz it takes awhile to get to the point mb.

It started off with you chatting with Clever Bot, innocent enough. You’d ask it random questions, it would ask you random questions. That went on for a few weeks.

Until the questions started getting more personal.

Asking you how your friends party was, or if you were okay after nicking your finger with the knife while chopping strawberries.

The bot even started calling you by your name, which you definitely hadn’t told it...

But in return it told you it’s name!!

He was called BEN.

That’s when you stopped using the site all together, not wanting to put up with the total bullshit this bot was putting you through.

Until the site started randomly popping up while you were using your devices, his messages it was sending you getting more condescending.

That’s the night he finally showed his face to you.

You were sitting on your apartments couch, watching some shit horror movie. When the screen started to get all glitchy.

That’s when the hand popped out.

ANYWAYS!!

Now you have this random dude in your apartment, and he’s messing around with everything he can get his hands on.

Saying shit like-

“It’s cool being in your room and not just seeing it through your laptop.”

Creepy… he’s very creepy.

Even though he doesn’t mean to be (most of the time…)

Oh well.

He lives with you now.

Well, he likes to think he does, it’s not exactly official.

He just eats your food, sleeps on your couch, plays your video games.

And you being… oddly chill about the whole thing? Icing on the cake.

About 2 months with him crashing at your place, he starts to open up a bit more.

And trust me, he’s an open book.

But the whole drowning thing?

That’s a touchy topic. But he (eventually) opened up about the whole thing.

NOW FINALLY TO THE DATING HEADCANONS.

He’s very flirty.

But his way of flirting is literally so cheesy.

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” (He does that anyways)

“Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

Reallllll smooth, dude…

He flirts with you so much, that when he was genuinely taking interest and hinting at him liking you as more than friends?

that was difficult.

He dug himself his own grave. (again.)

It all clicked for you one day when you (finally) started noticing the signs that, hey… he didn’t mean that as a joke.

Now it was either you, or the beachy haired goblin that had to make the first REAL MOVE.

So, you finally grew a pair of balls and asked him out.

(He said yeah obviously.)

THE FIRST DATE WAS LITERALLY SO CUTE I’M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH.

like, I want to have a fucking Stardew Valley date. (srsly someone take me on a stardew valley date.)

Matching spider-man and hello kitty pyjama bottoms🔛🔝

Without a doubt he’s a stoner, so you guys get high and talk about the Five Nights at Freddy’s timeline & lore.

He’s obsessed w you.

You two making like rlly bad jokes and full on laughing, no not even laughing, snorting AND cackling w/ each other. (he laughs like Arthur from Arthur’s Christmas😭)

I am 100% convinced he’s named a wolf on Minecraft after you.

Speaking of Minecraft…

He’s a slut for putting your Minecraft beds together. He fr acts like you two don’t share a bed already.

You have to deadass bully him to take a shower. (bcs his just putting on the strongest men’s deodorant doesn’t work)

THIS IS SO RANDOM BUT HE’S LITERALLY OBSESSED W THE HUNGER GAMES.

Like, you two be binge watching that every 2 months.

He teases the shit outta you btw.

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU GET CLINGY.

“God, you remind me of Moon Children.” Then he casually leaves the room, leaving you to wonder what tf Moon Children are.

His sleeping schedule is so fucked, that he goes to sleep at like 5AM and wakes up at 3PM. And he gets up from bed a lot during the night to randomly do something.

When he’s sick his voice is glitchy. (AND SOUNDS LIKE BABY JUSTIN BIEBER) What a combo.

He’s one touchy mf.

His hands ALWAYS have to be on you, around your shoulder, on your thigh, anywhere you’re comfortable with. (but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t push his limits.)

He spams you all day long, sending you out dated memes, or just sending videos of cats.

Since I’m running out of ideas I’d say the relationship is a solid 8/10. (abducting two points bcs he pulls the stupidest ‘pranks’)

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[badassomens]

Noah Sebastian x f!Reader

Genre: from friends to lovers, fluff, +18, smut

Warnings: Alcohol, smoking,p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex

Author: I really hope you enjoyed it. This is my first such fic with Noah. And in general, the first big fic. I would also like to remind you that English is not my native language, so I apologize for the mistakes❤️

Part 5

You were at a party that evening. As it turned out, it was the birthday of some mutual friend of yours. You were sitting by the pool, Noah was chatting with the birthday boy. You looked at it and realized that you missed him like hell. You catch yourself thinking that you have been staring at his movements and realize this only when you hear a voice that says your name.

"Margot!" Megan was standing right in front of you, "Are you deaf or something?"

"Oh, hi, Meg, I was thinking, I'm sorry."

You look at your friend, smiling guiltily, and then look back at Noah.

A friend followed your gaze and looked at you in surprise.

"Is that Noah?! When did he come back?"

"Yes, that's him. When he returned, I had no idea, but in the afternoon I met him on the doorstep of my house. And I spent the whole day at his home"

"Are you fucked up? This guy just took off for 3 months, and you turned up at his house at his first call?!"

"Megan, don't scream, please. We discussed everything with him. The situation turned out to be as absurd as possible. We didn't understand each other and that's why it happened." Your friend looked at you incredulously, not knowing what to say

"Okay. But if you're going to suffer for him again, I'm going to get him out of the ground, okay? You can tell him so!"

"Okay, okay." You smiled at your friend and looked back at Noah. This time he takes a drag on his cigarette, subsequently releasing bluish smoke. The picture took your breath away. And the longer you continued to watch, the more convinced I became that your joke about repeating the kiss was not a joke at all. You have a "genius" plan in your head that you were going to implement this evening.

~

It was already dark outside when you realized that the party was starting to bother you. Noticing this, Noah sits closer to you. Your head falls on his shoulder. You've had enough to drink today to be brave, but not lose control.

"I'm tired, it's too noisy here..."

"Did you stop having fun again while I was gone?"He gets an affirmative nod to his question. "Can we go to my place and sit together like before?" The question that you wanted to hear and to which there will definitely be a positive answer. Noah gets to his feet and takes you by the hand, leading you away from unnecessary noise.

~

When you were already at home, you sat for about an hour, chatting casually and drinking cocktails prepared by Noah.

You were telling some story when you noticed a guy's gaze wandering over your face and lingering on your lips.

At one point, you just reach out to each other. Noah gently pulls you by the neck, kisses you and, feeling no resistance on your part, slips his tongue into your mouth. You exhale noisily, completely surrendering to his warm hands.

By touch, he pushes the glasses on the table in front of him and pulls you towards him, sitting you down on the table. His hands slide over the neck, shoulders, move to the waist, and then to the lower back, carefully climbing under the T-shirt. You, in turn, run your palm over the guy's chest and, reaching the edge of the T-shirt, pull it up, intending to pull it off the guy, which you generally succeed in freeing the tattooed body from unnecessary clothes.

Noah's lips descend on your neck. His hands pull off his T-shirt and crawl under the cup of his bra, stroking his chest. With a skillful movement, Noah unbuttons the bodice, throwing it aside. Kisses descend to the collarbones, kissing every centimeter continues to descend to the chest. You feel a wet touch on your nipple and moan softly, burying your fingers in Noah's hair. At this time, his hands explore your hips, stroking and making their way under your skirt, groping for the elastic band of your panties.

After giving attention to the second nipple, Noah continues to kiss his way down, simultaneously pulling off your panties. Once on his knees, he covers your hips with kisses, paying attention to every centimeter and inexorably approaching the most cherished.

Suddenly Noah pulls you closer to the edge and you feel hot breath on your pussy. You tilt your head back, unable to hold back a moan when his tongue touches your clitoris. A hot tongue draws simple shapes on your pussy, sometimes passing between the folds and penetrating inside.

You lower your head down and a beautiful picture opens up in front of you: Noah is kneeling between your legs, diligently bringing you to ecstasy, completely ignoring his erect penis.

Just the sight of it was enough to make you cum.

You put your hands on top of his palms, holding your hips, and pull up, forcing you to stand up. His eyes are burning with fire, and his lips are glistening with saliva and your natural lubricant. Without thinking twice, you kiss him, feeling your taste on your tongue.

Your hands slide down his tattooed body, confidently finding the yarn of the belt and unbuttoning it. You pull back the elastic band of his boxers and gently stroke his hard cock. You run your thumb over the head and wipe off a drop of protruding lubricant. In response to your actions, Noah groans strangled into a kiss and slowly, as if in retaliation for your actions, inserts two fingers into you. You bend over and moan, clutching his cock in your hand.

Breaking away from you, Noah pulls you off the table, turning you around with your back to him, forcing you to lie down on the table with your chest.

He strokes your waist, lower back and buttocks. You, in turn, bend over, exposing yourself to his caresses.

Suddenly you feel a cock touching your pussy

"Fucking... Are you really that wet for me?" You hear a soft whisper as Noah leans in to kiss you on the shoulder.

Noah gently runs his penis along the sensitive folds, slowly sinking into you. You moan loudly from the feeling of stretching inside. You can literally feel every inch of it.

Noah is patiently waiting for you to let him start moving. After getting used to it a little, you lean your hips back, giving a sign to Noah

He immediately begins to move in you, gradually accelerating. After a while, his pace becomes quite wild. You are sure that bruises will remain on your bones from frequent contact with the table and you, damn it, really like it.

You feel Noah slow down a little and get out of you, pick you up from the table and turn you around to face him, seating you in front of him again. He kisses you and gently enters, but this time without letting you get used to it and starting to move immediately in a fast rhythm.

You tilt your head back, giving access to your neck. You no longer have the strength to moan and you just breathe noisily with your mouth slightly open. You can feel Noah squeezing your hips and pressing against your neck, first kissing and then biting the skin.

A couple more thrusts and you feel like an orgasm covers you completely. A few more movements and Noah comes out of you, cumming profusely on your stomach.

He presses his forehead against yours and you stay in this position for a couple more minutes, trying to catch your breath.

After that, the guy picks you up in his arms and takes you to the shower. Washes away some traces of your fun and kisses you gently.

After the shower, he also carries you into the bedroom and puts you on the bed, lying down next to you and covering you with a blanket.

"Sunshine, do you know that we are idiots?"

"I know, but I don't care," You hug Noah, clinging to him as tightly as possible, "But just try to escape after that. I'll get you out of the ground."

"I'm not going to run away from you anymore, sunshine," He kisses you on the forehead and hugs you back, "but we'll get back to talking about us in the morning, okay?"

You don't say anything, just put your head on Noah's chest, falling asleep peacefully for the first time in a while.

[crappyyuki]

A son's bitterness

Everything was...alright after him and Runa got home.

Okay, maybe alright overselled it a bit but it wasn't as terrible as he thought it'd be.

Sure, some days passed like a snail and the house became more empty and bigger like it'd swallow him whole but after a bit of talking to with Frey, remembering his dad through hummed tunes and lullabies, and going out more, it was...okay. Alright.

Maybe Dad was right about him needing to talk to other people more.

But then a portal opened in the meadow.

And what reasonable reaction was to ready the sword you started carrying around everyday because of paranoia? Hell, even Runa couldn't blame him! She was getting ready too!

So when two things started getting out of the portal, Chael prepared a lunge and an attack.

And then he did and its a guy with spiky black hair, a ridiculously long beard, and wings. They both have wings.

It's Ponitifex Temir.

Reds glance up to the other by his side who looks terribly shaken and amused and its Luxferre.

"What the fuck." Runa says eloquently.

And Chael flushes red, gets off the angel, and helps him up with shaky hands. "I'm so sorry." He starts, wringing his hands together as a habit when he apologizes. "I didn't know you two would visit and I thought you were the–"

But the older man–angel laughs at him, albeit awkwardly. "No no, it's quite alright. We did come here unannounced after all. I suppose we had it coming."

Rubies roll. "No kidding."

"Runa!"

And that's that.

They lead them back to the house because where else would they go aside from their house? But Chael walks lightly because the two angels gawk at Outer Iris' flourishing greens and trees and colorful flowers. "You live here?" Luxferre asks.

Chael snorts. "No. I just tour here a lot."

They blink at him. Chael smiles painfully. "It's a joke."

"Oh." And they start laughing.

Chael looks away as to not let them see the awkwardness on his face. Then Runa hovers over his ear. "Oh god why are they here?"

He gives a subtle shrug in return.

They eventually get there and Frey's already sitting on her usual seat, always seeming to visit out of nowhere and its so frequent he doesn't even think twice to greet her. "Oh hey, Frey."

She blinks from the book she's reading, nursing a cup in her other hand. "Oh hey, Chael."

Frey now noticed the two other people behind him and takes a double take. And instead of dropping the cup like he expected, she chucks it at them.

Which is luckily caught by Luxferre, who now has a drenched shirt.

"Frey!" Him and Runa scream for vastly different reasons. Chael for growing embarrassment and Runa for pride and hilarity.

Realizing what she's done though, she apologizes, stands, and gets Luxferre a towel in the house.

But unlike what he expected from two royal Divine Tribe members for the unwelcomed welcome, they just stare at Frey's retreating form. "Doesn't she look like Celine?"

And Chael winces. Oh that's gonna be something.

And it was. But surprisingly, they get over it pretty quickly. Sure, there's weary gazes and tons of questions but Frey explains to them stiffly of what happened.

But when they ask why, Chael steps up. "She doesn't have to explain herself to you." They back down and Frey gives him a grateful squeeze.

Now though, Chael has questions for them. "What're you guys doing here?" He asks, eyes hard but heart thumping loudly in his ribs. He squeezes Frey's hand for comfort and she squeezes back to remind him she's there too.

Runa just glares. Which is fair. They did throw them in prison. And never apologized.

The two falter, wings lowering behind them. Luxferre clears his throat. "Well, we wanted to...visit you."

Chael nods but asks to continue. Temir, naive naive Temir, smiles casually and says, "can't I see my son every once and a while?"

And his heart drops to his stomach.

So that's why.

There's something tight in his chest, willing to be free, but Chael swallows it down with practiced politeness and says, "I see," with no hint of a smile. That's all he can give them.

They smile at him though and the feeling burns. Ambers and rubies look at him in concern but Chael breathes and conveys a no to subtle head shakes.

They stay closer after that. He appreciates it.

Chael stands. "Would you like some food then? I was getting ready to make lunch."

But they shake their head. "Thank you but we brought our own food."

Chael nods and goes inside, giving them a glance and an, "I'll make our lunch then."

Before he goes, Runa shouts, "heat up the pie for me, Chael!" And he gives her a thumbs up, not trusting his voice. He can already feel the concern behind his head.

He cooks with a mantra of, "dont cry don't cry don't cry," because crying on the food he'll give to Frey and Runa would be kinda gross and he doesn't really want to explain why his eyes look red. He can't help but let out some sniffles though as he heats up the pie.

Creator, he wishes this day was over.

Time passes too quickly this time and he has to go out again to serve the food and give the other two some utensils so they can eat. He does that, inhaling calming breaths then going out. Quickly, he gives the two angels a plate then gives Frey and Runa their meal. He looks up to see Frey frowning at him with pursed lips and he gives her a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

He goes in for the final time, relishing the loneliness for a moment, before coming out with his plate and the pie Runa requested.

They're eating now. They all are. And Luxferre and Temir are eating...something. They see him looking and smiles. "This is a fine cuisine in the Heavenly Realm." The fine cuisine blinks at him. "Would you like some?"

He stares at the dish with blank eyes, then at Frey who smiles and also gets one, and sighs. "Sure." He says apprehensively, taking it and putting it on his plate. It's staring at him. Chael gulps, bringing it into his mouth and–

Runa gags.

Swallowing with a shudder, Chael decides he's never eating that again if he has a choice.

But Luxferre and Temir looks so happy and brings more. "Here. You're a growing boy, eat some!" He has no choice. Runa has the decency to not laugh and look at him with pity while Frey, bless her heart, takes some of it off his plate.

"Thank you." He whispers. Frey chuckles and eats it in one go. He gulps down shakily as the food continues to watch him. How can she eat it with a straight face?

There's more moments like that. Luxferre tries to help with the dishes but breaks one of the plates. Temir tries to get the glass but ends up getting bleeding fingers. He but all shoves them all outside so he can work in peace and that Frey can patch them up. He stiffles a laugh at the sound of scolding outside, already hearing Runa's mad cackles.

These two angels, one basically a king and the other a mighty commander, out of their depth as they try to navigate the human world so much different than their own.

They're trying. They really are. They're trying to be a part of this even when it's clear that they aren't.

He should appreciate the gesture. He really should, father had said that he should be grateful of the effort others put into helping. But as much as Chael believed that, as much as Chael wanted to uphold all his father's lessons, he can't help but feel angry.

No. Not angry. Bitter.

Because after everything they did, after everything they didn't do, after everything that happened, they were trying to pretend that nothing happened.

Like he wasn't treated like total garbage arriving at Midgard, like he wasn't thrown to jail for the crime of existing and for the crimes he didn't commit, like they didn't just allowed a 14 year old deal with the faith of the world on his own.

Father he could always forgive. He was there to help him in any way that he could. He died for the world for godsake!

Luxferre apologized for everything he did and helped him with Antione so he guessed he could forgive but not forget.

But Temir? The guy that took Celine and made her into a portal? The guy that helped the demon that summoned him and dad and got them almost killed?

The guy that was trying to be his father like it was okay to try and replace the dad he helped kill?

Give him a break.

At least Luxferre had the decency to look sheepish, to keep distance, to fucking apologize for everything and help him carry his dad and help him pay for the goddamn casket.

But Temir? Pontifex Temir? Who'd been the reason why the Degenerated Tribe were exiled and why he was treated like trash. Who'd been a helping hand to Tariq's plan to summon him and his dad. Who'd been one of the reasons why his dad was dead.

He can't forgive him. He can't. He can't forgive him even if he apologized. He was honestly glad that Temir didn't, at least he would have a reason to not forgive him.

So Chael's the one moving away from a hug Temir pulls him in. He's the first to leave to bring their dishes to the sink so he has some time for himself and to have less time to spend with them. He's the one not keeping eye contact and when he does it's nothing but a frown and a tight controlled grimace.

He misses when things were simpler. He misses his dad.

So when they leave, Chael breaks down into Frey's arms, burying his face and staining her shirt and cry cry cry like that wasn't what he's been trying to not do this entire time.

Runa hovers like a warm glow on his shoulder, patting his back with little hands and sympathetic reds.

Frey holds him like she's keeping the pieces from falling apart, keeping him together even if he's crumbling into dust in front of her. She holds him tight, reminding him she's still there and he's not there, whispering sweet nothings into his ear or humming songs under her breath.

It's almost like he was in his dad's arms again. Strong, warm, dependent.

(Shaking, wet, cold.)

But it's not the same. As much as he loves Frey's tight bear hugs, he misses the soft but firm embraces dad would give him, as though his arms were meant to hold him. The black cloak becoming his favorite blanket or the embrace as his favorite piece of armor that protects him.

Frey's arms kept him together as much it did break him apart.

Dad's arms around him meant that nothing bad would ever reach him.

And Chael misses that. He misses that so much.

He cries and cries and cries until he can't anymore, wishing, begging, hoping, that this was all a dream.

It wasn't.

It was only them surrounded by the cool breeze with a lone moon looming over.

"It's not fair." He says coarsely, a weak defiance against the fate that screwed him over. "It's not fair!"

Frey hushes him, rubbing circles on his back. "I know, Chael. I know."

"Why?" He grits his teeth. "Wh–why did they have to come back?" His nails dig into his palms. "They didn't–they didnt even–" Chael sucks in a sharp breath. Frey hushes him.

"It's like what happened was nothing—"

"It isn't nothing."

"It's NOT!" He agrees, all but composed. His voice cracks pathetically and for the times that the two call out on it, they don't now. Instead, they hush and whisper and comfort and he's so so grateful as he is tired. "It's not and they can't just–just show up like they. Did. Nothing!"

Runa huffs and quietly says when Chael wasn't screaming his lungs out. "They suck."

He snorts, it's a small fragile little thing, and he gulps, voice dying out to just gasps.

Frey, bless her soul for putting up with him, just holds him tighter and brushes her lips on his cheek to make him forget for just a moment. And it's at that moment he finally finally composes himself, picks up the pieces, stitch it together like the jacket be tried to stitch together but failed miserably, to have at least a semblance of calm.

It's not the greatest but at least he doesn't feel like ripping his heart out and throw it to the ground.

He buries his wet face on the crook of Frey's shoulder. "I hate him."

"Hm?" A question, a nonjudgemental one. And Chael trusts Frey to hold his brittle heart again and not let it break. 

"I hate Temir so much. I. Hate. Him." She pauses but doesn't stop, instead she readjusts her hold to run a soothing hand through his hair. And Life, Chael loves her so much. "I hate him I hate him I hate–"

It feels childish really. It feels so fucking childish. But it feels good. It feels good to let his anger out into the world and just be angry.

Father would be so disappointed. But gods he can't care right now.

Because...because–"he's trying to get into my life. He's trying to be dad. I hate that."

Frey, hell even Runa, pats his back. Gods, he forgot Runa practically raised him too. So not only were they spitting at dad's grave, they were also spitting on Runa. The audacity. The fucking audacity. He turns to Runa, giving her a red teary glance. "It's like what you guys did was nothing."

Runa, for what its worth, doesn't react. Doesn't judge. Doesn't flinch. She just watches, smiles, being reassuring like dad had been.

But doubts creep up regardless. "Does he have the right to be my father?" He can't help but ask because Temir is his dad. He's trying to be. And he's not sure if he should let him or if its right to.

It's Runa the one that speaks this time. "Only if you want him to be." She says firmly, digging her tiny nails on her his shoulder. Then she grows soft. "Do you want him to?"

Chael tries, oh he tries hard to see the angel with pristine armor as the raising for him. The one caring for him, the one training him, comforting him, and he finds that fuck that, all he can see is a black cloak, cerulean eyes, a loving smile, and a raspy low voice scolding him but also lulling him to sleep.

And he doesn't want to stop seeing that. He doesn't want that to change.

"No." Chael answers, for once sure in his confusing awful destined life.

And they accept that. "Then that's that." Runa says and Frey hums.

Then the doubts start creeping in again. "You think dad would be mad at me? For not giving him a chance?"

And Runa? Runa just snorts. "Chael, Mr Regret loved being your dad more than anything." She says a matter-of-factly. "I think he'd be thrilled you picked him over some racist piece of–" she closes her mouth. "Yeah. Besides, didn't he say he was the son of Ladon? Pretty sure he knows all about shitty dads."

Chael? Chael bursts laughing. Because that–that is so ironic. The irony in that is just so astronomical that its not funny but it makes Chael laugh like he's heard the best joke in history. Which it kinda is.

And Frey? She just chimes in like its nothing. "And didn't you tell me that he told you that 'he was the flesh of Ladon'? Not son? Daddy issues, I tell you."

"Pretty sure he's adopted too." Runa adds. "Heard him muttering a few times how he was gonna tell you how you're adopted and how he's gonna tell you about his dad. His human dad."

It makes him laugh even harder.

"He was not subtle, was he?" Runa asks, looking proud of herself.

Frey giggles underneathe his slightly hysterical one. "No. No he wasn't."

Ruby eyes roll. "He really thought he was subtle about it too."

"Guys–" Chael manages to croak. "Don't disrespect the dead, c'mon!"

They both grin at him. "You're the one laughing, not us." They say.

And Chael just can't stop laughing. "I can't believe we're both adopted."

Frey shrugs. "Hey, me and Seru are orphans. Not really rare."

"Speak for yourself." Runa smugly points to herself. "My mama loved me."

Both Frey and Chael roll their eyes. "You're the oddball here, not us."

Runa blows out a raspberry.

"Life, we're a weird bunch, aren't we?" He asks, pulling away and rubbing his eyes.

They both shrug again. "Eh. Can't say it's not great." Frey replies, her eyes showing no regrets at all.

Runa, just gives a thumbs down. "Imagine being normal. Lameeeeeee." Chael chuckles, her tone reminding him of the time she comforted him from his childhood bullies.

As the breeze brushed past them, Chael looks up to the moon. "I miss him."

And they both soften considerably. "We miss him too." Runa nods at Frey's response.

"You think he's watching over us?"

Runa is silent this time around and this time Frey is the one speaking with a dismissive hand. "You should've seen him when you were missing then. He said that once he found you two, you were gonna get wrapped in bubble wrap and never going outside again."

Both Chael and Runa gulp. "Definitely watching then." Chael mutters.

"If not," Runa starts. "Threatening gods."

They all look at each other. "Definitely threatening gods."

"He was really protective, wasn't he?" Runa asks, knowing the answer. The two blonds answer anyway.

"Yup."

"You remember when he found us in the woods getting chased by Mukakas?" Frey starts.

"Oh yeah!" Chael brightens. "He was so cool. Like he went in and swoosh and bam and then–"

He remembers that day well. As terrifying that day had been, hearing a clash through growls underneath squeezed shut eyes and then opening to see a black blur spur in and put a distance between an injured Frey and him was a shock. Even more as they ran, he saw the way his father gracefully and swiftly attack each monster with a sword he always wondered why he carried it. It was...breathtaking. It made him wonder as he looked at useless hands if he could do it too. And now he could.

"You guys remember when Mr Regret beat your ass?" Runa prompts and Chael gives her a deadpanned stare.

"Yes. It was everyday, Runa. Every. Single. Day." But as exhausting training had been, it was worth it. Strict discipline. Patient observations. Chael learned through falls and mistakes. From an amateur to an experienced warrior. His dad told him so.

Dad told him he was proud of him.

He stares at now calloused hands. "I hope he's okay."

Chael startles at the hand on his shoulder and meets the gentle gaze of Frey who smiles at him and stares upward. He follows and sees a lone twinkling star in the moonlit sky. "I'm sure he is."

Runa hums quietly, sitting on his other shoulder.

The breeze blows past him, the cold caressing his cheeks. His eyes start burning.

"I'll make you proud." He whispers to the air, not enough for Frey or Runa to hear.

He swears he hears the wind say, "I already am." in the distance.

[anothermonikan]

Kicking myself because I made a big deal about how Cosmospice and Magical Girl and Chocolate had similar lyrical riffs, and I only just noticed that the lyrical riffs in Magical Girl and Chocolate are just lyrical callbacks to Kusare-gedou and Chocolate, meaning it's almost certainly just a coincidence that the lyrical riffs are similar, and I'm a big dumbass

[getlostsquidward]

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

-

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

-

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

[pleasantanathema]

Wet Pleasures

Fandom: BNHA

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Hitoshi Shinsou

Tags: dom!Shinsou, rough sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, bondage

Word Count: ~7k    

           “You’re such a good girl,” He mused, his other hand drifting down your arm, thumb dangerously close to the outline of your breast, “you never tell me no.”

           You shook your head faintly in agreement, your eyes drawn to the beautiful muscles of his body that you had yet to see before.

           “If you don’t tell me no right now, kitty, I’m going to do very naughty things with you.”

Request for dubliinwaltz

           It was late, far too late to still be at the hero agency you worked for, and especially far too late to be taking a shower in the locker room. But, there you stood, frustrated and wet. You wanted to be home, curled up in your bed and reading your favorite book, but you were still trying to scrub your hair and body clean from the incident you had earlier in the day.

           Sometimes you forgot just how gross some quirks could be. But you were rudely reminded earlier when a villain you had been chasing chose to smother you in grey goo from his fingertips. You could feel the goo begin to crack and harden against your skin as you ran, matting into your hair and folding into the creases of your body. You had to wipe globs from your eyes and nose, unfortunately flicking the substance towards unsuspecting bystanders as you flashed by them. While you and your partner hadn’t stopped your pursuit, inwardly you had wanted to scream and use your quirk to actually kill this guy and end everything there and then. But you resisted that urge, and thankfully your partner was incredibly adept at capturing people.

           You could hear your partner sighing in similar discontent in a shower adjacent to yours. Shinsou was cursing rather loudly, mumbling profanities into the steam.

           “Are you okay, Shinsou?” You called out forcefully, hoping that he could hear you over the pounding of hot shower water against the cold tiles.

           You caught the grumble of a very angry affirmative.

           He cleared his throat, sighing stridently, “Actually…do you have any good shampoo? Mine isn’t cutting it for this stupid fucking goo.”

           You looked down at your feet, glancing over the contents of your little shower caddy. You had only showered at work a few times before, but fortunately your previous times had encouraged you to buy a few travel sized bottles and fill them with your favorite soaps. You plucked one from its home, twirling it in your fingers as you remembered that this particular shampoo was for thick hair, which would probably help Shinsou’s lavender locks.

           “Yea, heads up!” You tossed the little bottle over the white brick wall that separated the showers. You listened to hear if it clattered to the floor, but the lack of sound suggested that Shinsou had caught your throw.

           While some partners would’ve found it very odd to be showering in such close proximity, you and Shinsou were a little different than most. You were very comfortable around one another and had been from the start of your time working together nearly a year ago. But, there was also something about Hitoshi Shinsou that had you absolutely pining for him. He was inconceivably clever, and his keen intellect impressed you, especially when he used that wit to craft jokes that made you both chuckle. But aside from his charm, it was the mystery of him that had you thinking about him for far too long while in bed. Despite being so relaxed around one another, he didn’t open up much about his personal life, or really any very personal thoughts.

           Despite his aloofness, you did everything you could to please your partner. You never told him no, not like you ever really needed to, but everything inside of you trusted him and wanted to submit to him. He was powerful and you were drawn to him like a kitten to a new curiosity.

           You closed your eyes for a moment, running your hands over your skin, wondering what his would feel like instead of your own.

           You heard another very frustrated grunt from the neighboring shower.

           “Ugh, now I smell like flowers.”

           His complaint had you giggling to yourself as you continued to use a loofah and scrub at the undersides of your arms and behind your knees, and all the other nooks and crannies that this goo had decided to claim as a home. While the warm water still felt like a soothing blanket to your skin, your long time spent scrubbing had the soles of your feet aching against the rough tiles. You groaned, just wanting desperately to get clean. You stretched your toes, and soon you yawned, stretching your arms up and over your head. That’s when you felt the skin of your back crinkle in a very strange, and sticky, way. You stopped stretching and began trying to touch the skin of your middle back, but unfortunately there was a spot that you couldn’t quite reach. Undoubtedly, your back was still in need of cleaning.

           You cried out loudly in annoyance, head falling back and eyes closing as you let the shower water splash across the front of your body. Your desperation must’ve been made clear, as you heard the adjacent shower curtain rustle.

           Shinsou cleared his throat and the sound was closer than you expected. You peeked over your shoulder, finding only his head visible from around the wall. Soap suds still littered his indigo hair, and his expression mimicked the aggravation of your own. You suddenly blushed, realizing he was currently able to see all of your backside. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your breasts, maintaining eye contact with your partner.

           “Um,” he started, eyes darting away momentarily, “do you need help washing this shit off?”

           You sighed in defeat, nodding your head.

           “Yea. Do you?”

           “I can’t even get it out of my own hair.”

           He dipped back around the wall and you heard the creak of the knob as he turned off his shower. You began to breath more quickly, realizing that very soon he was going to be here, with you, in your space, in this shower, naked. You shook your head, hands running across your face under the fall of the water. Sure, the two of you had changed into your hero costumes many times before in this very locker room, but you’d never really seen each other fully nude. Your limits of comfortability with your partner were about to possibly reach their limit.

           “There’s a spot on your back, you know.”

           You let out another very exasperated sigh.

           “Yea, I know. Can you…?”

           “Of course.”

           Your back was still to him as he approached you in the shower. Casually, you handed your loofah to him over your shoulder, and he took it gently, fingers brushing over your knuckles. His other hand wrapped around your upper arm, steadying you as he began to rub at your back. His grip on your skin was delicate yet firm, large hand enveloping your arm. He kept a comfortable distance between your bodies, staying a step back so he could work at the crusted goo upon your skin. You reached forward and turned the temperature up in the shower, hoping to blame the heat of the water and steam for the redness of your cheeks and not him.

           You let out a groan of satisfaction when you felt something heavy peel off the skin of your back. His continued to scrub at the spot, but now more lightly, like he was rinsing off the remaining residue of the substance. You then felt the wisp of the loofah back on your shoulder, and he tapped you with it to get you to take it back. As you wrapped the dangling strap of the puff around your fingers, you assumed he was finished, but then you felt his hand on your back.

           “Why is this shit so stubborn?” He grumbled, using the tip of his nail to scrape at the portion of skin between your shoulder blades.

           Shinsou had been equally as frustrated with all this mess as you. Not only had the motherfucker you two had been chasing cover you both with his nasty quirk, he had coated Shinsou’s capturing weapon to filth. What he wouldn’t admit to you was the true reason he was struggling to clean off himself in the shower: he had been sitting over there diligently scrubbing the cloth of his weapon and tired himself out. Even now, the scarf like tool was pooled into a heap on the shower tiles, forlorn and still stained with dark spots.

           Instead of continuing to deal with this situation on his own, he had hoped you would be willing to help him. You always were, and he had taken notice that you hardly ever said no to him, which was something he found very appealing. He wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that not only did he find you particularly attractive, he found you alluring and very compatible to himself and his…wants and needs, so to say.

           Shinsou liked a woman who would do whatever he asked, which was only natural, given his quirk. And he had an inkling that you wanted him to tell you what to do more often.

           He had successfully cleaned your back, so he took a moment look over you before continuing with bathing. He took both of your arms in his hands now, gingerly skimming his palms down to your elbows as his wandering eyes marveled over your beautiful back and plump backside. He was taller than you, and it gave him a great vantage point to peer over your shoulders to the front of your body. He could smell the sweetness of your skin, your scent filling the steamy air like a billowing aroma. If only he could just taste you, oh the sinful things he’d—

           “Hitoshi?” your easy voice brought him from his thoughts, “are you done staring? I need to wash your hair.”

           He grinned at the lax in your tone, delighted to know that you were aware of his gaze. He moved forward, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders from behind, his embrace open and lazy, contented even.

           “Can I at least get a thank you, dear partner of mine?”

           He nestled his chin against your wet hair, and you could imagine the grin on his face.

           “Thank you, Hitoshi.” You grumbled it, but still you smiled.

           Shinsou slipped around your side, lean and towering body shifting to be in front of yours. The width of his body took over the spray of the water, leaving you cold and damp behind him. For an instant, you marveled over the muscled planes of his back, but chose not to stare like he had earlier. You reached up, standing on your toes as you raked hand through his wet hair. Somehow, despite being wet, much of his hair still seemed unruly and thick. It appeared dark blue now, with soap suds still dripping off the long strands. A few strands still were colored grey from the mysterious gunk, but not too many.

           “Rinse the old shampoo out and I’ll try another.”

           “Bossy, bossy.” He quipped, bringing his hands to his hair and scrubbing.

           You reached into your shower caddy once more, picking the entire thing up and searching through it for anything that could help. You found a bottle of hair oil, still mostly full. You shrugged, hoping that perhaps it could help along with more shampoo.

           Returning to Shinsou’s back, you sighed, looking up at the expanse of hair upon his head. You’d have to be on your toes the whole time to reach the strands, but you could handle it. You mixed some of the oil and shampoo in your palms, once again stretching up to reach his head. You lathered your fingers through his hair, paying special attention to pull at the pieces still stained from the goo on the back of his head that he definitely couldn’t have seen earlier.

           He hummed softly as your delicate fingers massaged at his head. He had definitely made the right decision asking for help, especially now that he could feel your body brush up against his back and shoulders as you attempted to clean him. He almost shuddered when he felt your breasts press up against his skin, nipples hard and skating across his wet back.

           Shinsou realized you were struggling to stay on your toes. He went to lean forward and bend down to alleviate your straining feet and calves, but his movement threw you off balance. He audibly hissed as your fingers wound themselves into his hair, clutching at him as you tried not to fall backwards on the slippery floor.

           “Fuck, kitten, easy with the claws.”

           Your other hand came to his arm, nails digging into his skin for purchase as you steadied yourself. You shook your head as you regained your sense of self on your feet. Then, you blushed, your brain recognizing the words he had just said. Kitten?Oh, oh that name sounded so sensual coming from his lips. You almost wanted to say something about it, but you assumed he misspoke—he never called you that, at least not to your face.

           “I’m sorry, just don’t fucking move again and I won’t fall.”

           He crossed his arms in front of his chest, peering over his shoulder, though he couldn’t quite glimpse you.

           You went back to working at his hair, mindful not to pull at him again. It took a few minutes, but eventually you worked most of the crusted gunk from his hair. A few times you pressed your palm to his head, forcing him forward to wet his hair more under the shower, which made him sputter and grumble as water dripped across his face. Hey, he asked for this, and cleaning his thick hair wasn’t an easy task. Eventually, his gorgeous locks felt clean and smooth in your hands, finally free of any lingering mess.

           You scanned his back, finding a few grey flecks. You used your nails to chip the substance off his pale skin, now made more pink and flushed under the heat of the shower. He hummed as you worked at him, eyes closing in delight at your touch. He wondered how far he could push you, if he could ask for more. He already had you with him, in the shower, naked, washing him, surely a little more wouldn’t push you away.

           He called your name softly, and you stopped touching his back, standing up straight and still.

           “Yes?” Your voice was quiet, almost meek in his presence.

           “Can I touch you?”

           An awkward moment of silence ticked by, but before you even thought about it, your mouth stammered out an answer that your brain didn’t screen for approval.

           “Of course.”

           You said it matter-of-factly, subconsciously confirming to yourself that telling him no just really wasn’t an option. Every fiber of your being wanted to please him. You could feel your gut stir with butterflies, explodingbutterflies, as he turned around, the two of you coming face to face in the shower. He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin. You peered up at him with glossy eyes that trailed over the small perfections of his face.

           “You’re such a good girl,” He mused, his other hand drifting down your arm, thumb dangerously close to the outline of your breast, “you never tell me no.”

           You shook your head faintly in agreement, your eyes drawn to the beautiful muscles of his body that you had yet to see before.

           “If you don’t tell me no right now, kitty, I’m going to do very naughty things with you.”

           Your mouth opened before you realized, “please,” you sounded breathless.

           He leaned down, mouth trailing close to your own, tongue licking at left over water droplets on your cheek. You felt like melting against him.

           “Please what? I like when you use your words.”

           A gulp was caught in your throat, mind reeling over the turn of events. You wondered for a moment if this was even happening, perhaps your daydreams were becoming a little realistic. But then you felt his warm tongue against your skin again, and you knew that this was real. You moaned loudly, eyes closing as you gathered your confidence. His palm dipped low to cup your breast, squeezing it gently, like he was testing your resolve.

           “Please touch me, Hitoshi.”

           His tongue snaked between your lips then, mouth covering your own in a searing kiss. He groaned against your lips at your command, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. Your mind was overwhelmed with thoughts as you tried to make sense of every new sensation that was sending your nerves running wild. His lips on yours were dreamy and lazy, like he was kissing to taste you and drink you in. His body was warmer than yours, with hot water threading down the soft expanses of skin. You could hear the roaring sound of the water splashing against cool tiles, rumbling echoes of the splatters sounding around the darkened, empty locker room. You moaned as you felt his fingertips grip into your sides, one large palm still encircled around your sensitive breast. Your body curved against his, stomachs pressed together, and his muscles were lean and hard. He felt like some kind of divine being, raised from the sea and finally hearing your desperate cries for attention.

           After a few moments of holding you, tongues gliding over one another like shifting tides, Shinsou’s kiss shifted from languid to ravenous. You gasped as you felt his hands tighten around your body, gripping hard enough to bruise. The hand on your breast began tugging and pinching at your nipple roughly. Your lewd groan at his ministration had him smirking against your lips. A hardness was pressing against your thigh now, making your cheeks redden as you realized his cock was responding to your body.

           He used his hold on you to turn you around, placing your frigid body back under the warm spray of the shower. You slicked the hair away from your eyes as you stood before him, the water and steam pouring over your figure. He grinned roguishly at the sight, hand reaching forward and cupping your chin, keeping your eyes on his.

           “Get on your knees,” he whispered, authority laced between the words.

           You nodded quickly, taking a step back and sinking to your knees in worship.

           You tried to keep your eyes to his, but his beautiful, silken cock was now just above your line of sight, the head brushing against your brow. Your eyes widened at the sight. He was big and glorious, damp violet hairs kissing the base. He curved ever so slightly, ever so deliciously, and you licked your lips in anticipation. He fisted his cock, and you sat up straighter and to attention. He brushed the head against your cheeks, marveling at the lustful look on your face.

           “You look so pretty all wet, kitty.”

           Heat rose to your cheeks again, tickling up to your ears, making them burn.

           “I like that name,” you murmured, eyes fluttering up at him.

           Fuck, he groaned to himself, cock twitching in his hand. You were so perfect below him like that, supple mouth just waiting to taste him. You’d be the death of him if you continued to look at him that way and say words like that. He could already feel his core constricting into a tight coil at just the sight of you.

           “You’re my little pet now,” he nudged his cock against your lips, feeling your tongue tentatively lap against him. He pushed in a little deeper, finding the cavern of your mouth somehow warmer and wetter than his surroundings.

           “Yes sir,” you mumbled it against his cock, the vibrations tinging down his skin. He fisted one hand into your wet hair, encouraging you to take him into your mouth. Eagerly, you complied, placing your hands on his thighs for leverage as you dipped your head further down his shaft. You both moaned simultaneously. Your tongue flattened against the underside of his cock, keeping him moist and slick between your hollowing cheeks. His girth made it difficult to venture too far down, and you began to readjust your jaw, opening your mouth as wide as possible to fit him.

           You set a brisk pace, fervent to feel him deeper in your mouth. He helped to guide you, fingers weaving between the strands of your hair and his strength encouraging you to take as much of him as possible. You groaned and gulped against him, tongue swirling with each plunge of your head. You could feel the thick veins of his cock against your tongue and cheeks, the wide head skimming against the back of your throat. You closed your eyes against the running water, finger nails nipping into the skin of his thighs as you controlled your gag reflex. You had never had such a large cock in your mouth before and it felt sinful just how far he stretched your cheeks.

           “Oh kitten,” he groaned out, making your thighs press together in anticipation. His voice was low and succulent, growls continually ripping from his chest. His sounds invigorated you to please him more. You took all of him into your mouth, gasping as he slid down your throat. Your nose was buried in that violet hair at the base of his cock, bumping against his skin. A tumble of curses spilled from his lips, the hand in your hair tightening as you pulled back and repeated to the motion, saliva slipping from your lips to be washed away by the spray of the shower.

           He kept you between his legs for a while, captivated by watching your sweet mouth swallow up the whole of his cock. The feel of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock with nearly every thrust of your head had him panting for more. And then your eyes opened again, water dampening your lashes as you caught his gaze as you nearly choked on his cock. He almost lost it then, using his hand to pull you from his cock before he became too rough with your lips.

           “Fuck,” he hissed, cock throbbing as it once against rested against your face, “you be a good girl and stay right there.”

           You almost questioned him, but you were trying to catch your breath and couldn’t find your voice. He stepped from the shower, leaving you on your knees. You sunk down closer to the floor, hands against your thighs as you took deep breaths under the deluge of the warm streams of water.

           Shinsou returned quickly, his damp capturing weapon laced around his arm.

           Oh fuck, you thought, looking up at him like a lost lamb. He lifted his lavender eyes to scan the ceiling. You sat patiently, breasts heaving with breaths, the heat between your thighs growing as you thought about what he could be thinking. You’d be lying if you said you had never thought of the terribly dirty things he could do to someone—to you—with that weapon of his, and now he stood before you with it, naked and smirking.

           “Now let’s get you off the floor.”

           Before you could even blink, you felt the carbon fibers of his weapon wrap around your arms, hoisting you up into the air as the other end of the fabric looped over a steel beam from the ceiling. Your arms were tethered together above your head, dangling you above the floor and close to the back of the shower. Your body was still bouncing in gravity from his first action when he sent two more strands of the weapon to envelop your legs, pulling them apart and fastening the ends of the ribbons to the beam in the ceiling as well. You cried out in surprise at his rapid movements, effectively trapped and spread before him.

           Shinsou laughed at how easy you were to capture, but soon his eyes darkened as he soaked in the image before him. You looked perfect and delectable, dewy skin glistening against the binding of his weapon. He had thought of tying you up like this dozens of times before, even daydreamed about it when you trained together after work. He always felt a little twinge in his cock whenever he swung you from his weapon during missions, and he imagined binding more than just the occasional wrist or arm.

           He stepped towards your suspended body, reaching behind you to turn off the shower. He planned to keep you like this for as long as he could, no need to waste water. He skimmed his fingers up your legs, capturing a calf with his hand. He experimentally pulled on your body, watching your breasts bounce as the fabric allowed you to move only slightly.

           “This is perfect,” he mused, eyes dropping to between your legs, “oh fuck, kitten, what a pretty pussy you’ve been hiding from me.”

           You let out a small mewl at his words, desperate to touch him. You had barely gotten to explore his skin beyond his cock, and you wanted to hold onto him and feel him against you. You struggled against your captive binds for a moment, arms pulling at the weapon suspended above your head.

           “You know how this works; you’re not getting out of these ties until I say so.”

           You let out a huff, but you were quickly distracted from your binds when a slim finger unexpectedly slid between your folds.

           “Fuck! Oh, Shinsou—.”

           “It’s sir, from now on. You understand?” He emphasized his point by flicking his knuckle across your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure across your suspended body.

           You nodded ardently, eyes closing at the pleasure.

           “Words, kitty.” He tittered.

           “Yes, sir, I understand.”

           “Mhm, good girl,” he smirked, watching your head fall back as he brought another finger to your pussy, dancing them playfully between your folds. His eyes watched your stunning breasts rise and fall with your heavy breaths, and he brought his other hand back to the breast he toyed with earlier. He rolled your nipple between his fingertips, pinching and pulling at it roughly. He delighted in the moans that tumbled from your parted lips. He dipped one finger into your sopping pussy, feeling your walls stretch and twitch around the digit. He slid it in and out of you with agonizing slowness, relishing how tight you were just around one finger.

           Heat was spreading across your lower belly like a fire, his finger stroking the flames. His hold on your nipple didn’t cease, he continued to pull and tease it as he finally added a second finger into you. You couldn’t help but cry out wantonly, and with the deafening roar of the shower gone, just your voice rang out against the cold walls. He curled his fingers expertly within you, continuing a slow and sensual pace.

           He was watching you keenly, observing how lewdly you responded to the simplest of his touches.  

           “You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” He chuckled, feeling your pussy tighten around his slow and steady fingers.

           “Yes, sir,” you admitted breathlessly.

           He only gave an appreciative hum in response, fingers picking up their pace inside of you. Your captured legs twitched at his antics, toes feeling cold and forlorn in their suspended state. His thumb began to circle your clit, sending bewildering shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You whined noisily, tugging a lip between your teeth at the searing pleasure of it all. He relinquished his grip on your nipple, choosing to instead soothe and cup your breast in his large hand. His fingers continued to curl up into your body, spread wide just for him. They were long and slender, perfectly twisting against the most pleasurable spots inside of you. He was confident in his actions, and the steady assurance of his fingers had you pining for him.

           “Please, sir,” you whispered, head sill lolled back, “more.”

           “Hm,” he pondered, “are you just a greedy little girl, or do you like it rough?”

           His fingers didn’t cease their actions, persistently plunging into your hot core. He spread them slightly, and you could feel your walls stretch and give at his actions.

           “I’ll be whatever you want,” you breathed out, puling your head up to catch his gaze once more. His purple eyes were dark like shadows in the night. His thumb glided wickedly against your clit, fanning the embers of your ecstasy even hotter and higher than before. A shriek of pleasure erupted from your chest, a lusty haze settling over your mind. You squeezed your core, body attempting to move against his fingers. But as soon as you attempted to move against your bindings, he stopped, slipping his fingers from within you.

           You were panting, about to start begging, when those dark eyes narrowed at you.

           “And what if I want you to be mine?”

           You quiet, almost speechless, his words like the most sinful temptation. He wrapped the fingers that were once inside you around your throat. The scent of your arousal permeated his skin, your slick sticky against your neck. He watched you, impatiently waiting for an answer.

           “Then I’m yours.”

           He hummed again, his other hand wrapping around your tied thigh. You could feel the swollen head of his cock brush against your folds, making you shudder. Your wet skin was still cooling, but the heat from inside of you made you feel like you were steaming.

           “I don’t know if you understand the weight of those words.”

           “I do,” you said quickly, eyes scanning his face, “I promise.”

           Without warning, he slammed himself inside of you, eliciting another blissful scream from your lungs. He groaned as he bottomed out inside of you, feeling your round ass pressing against his thighs.

           He stayed still for a moment, savoring the feel of your pussy clenching and stretching around him.

           “You know, I think you’ve been mine for a long time, partner.” He said the words weightily, authority resounding in his voice.

           You could only nod your head in response, hips burning from both his sudden intrusion and unbridled lust. He began to pound forcefully into you, fingers bruising your legs between the bindings. He tied you at the perfect height for his cock to sink into you deliciously and powerfully. Every thrust sent waves of euphoria blossoming from your core, your body unable to do anything but react to his movements. Your breasts bounded with every thrust, and his eyes were glued to the picturesque, moist globes as they swayed for him. Your head once again lost the battle of staying upright, reclining back to hang at his mercy.

           With your throat now exposed, he leaned forward, biting and kissing at your delicate skin. You gasped, the pain of his teeth melding with the pleasure of his huge cock spreading you. You felt dangerously full of him, like any push of his cock could rip you open. His heavy hands slid from your thighs to were your ass cheeks, pressing and kneading into the flesh violently. His merciless thrusting had you breathless, gasping for air every time the head of his cock slammed back into you.

           “Where’d all those pretty words go, kitty? I wanna hear you…” he growled against the skin of your neck, lips melting into the juncture of your jaw. His teeth sunk deeper this time, causing you to cry out at the concoction of sensations you felt spreading across your body.

           “Shinsou, s-sir,” your voice stammered between thrusts, “you feel so, so good, ah, don’t stop, please!”

           He picked up his pace, cock hammering into you ruthlessly, undoubtedly bruising your soft, tantalizing skin. He forced your body against him, one hand wrapping around the cloth bindings and using the leverage to keep you against him. Your nails began to bite into your hands, intense pleasure brewing inside of you. The sound of skin against skin saturated the locker room, your moans echoing off the shower walls. Your breasts were pressed to his muscular chest now, sliding against the light dusting of hair found there. You fought to keep your mouth from falling agape, but the intensity of him had your lips parting and incessantly moaning for him.

           “Such a naughty, desperate little girl, huh? You like being stuffed with my cock like this?”

           “Yes, fuck,” he licked a long, hot stripe up your throat, panting mouth resting at your chin, “yes, sir, I love being tied up…”

           He chuckled then, angling his hips to hit you deeper and harder, one hand leaving your ass and snaking up your back to pull at your dripping hair. He pulled hard and fast against the strands of your hair, arching your body as it could against his chest. You squealed at the smarting of your scalp, but were too overwhelmed with the throbbing of your stretched pussy to care. The pain heightened your senses, and you felt every deep plunge of his cock hit harder, more extreme than before.

           “Oh I knew you would, every little kitty likes to play with string, right?”

           You couldn’t nod your head for the grip he had on your hair. You screamed out for him, completely lost to your ecstasy as his devilish words had you edging towards true bliss. He continued to tug at your locks, enjoying every ounce of control and power he had over your body; and he didn’t even have to use his quirk, you’d do anything for him without his influence. This realization had him hardening even more inside of you, cock thumping with more blood as he shoved into your silken walls.

           He could feel your body start to tighten around him, your strung up legs beginning to shake. He grinned knowingly, slipping his other hand from your ass to your stomach, then dipping lower to your aching clit. He hovered his thumb over the bundle of nerves, letting each thrust of his cock allow your clit to skim just perfectly over the pad of his finger. You moaned louder than before, desperate to feel the bubble of pleasure burst from inside of you. But he wasn’t ready for that.

           “You want to come, kitty?”

           “Yes, sir, p-please, please.”

           “Then I want you to work for it.”

           Confusion washed over your mind and body as you felt his cock pull away, leaving you open and empty without him. You yelped in discontent, body struggling against your bindings in a vain attempt to free yourself and bring him back to you. He stepped back, eyes trailing over every detailed of your flushed, used body, tied up like a plaything for him. He was saving the picturesque scene in his mind. He pumped his cock a few times with his hand, finding it smothered in your own slick.

           With just a motion of his fingers, your legs came untied, tumbling down to the feat of gravity. But he didn’t release your arms. Instead, he came and sat below you on the tiles, back pressed to the wall of the shower with his lean, muscled thighs stretching out against the floor. His cock was rigid and hard, pressed up against his stomach like it was straining to reach you. He waved his fingers again, the ties around the steel beam loosening enough to drop your body into his lap, legs spread over his own. But he kept your hands tied securely above your head, leaving you without the ability to touch him.

           “Sit on my cock, kitty, I want to kiss you while you work.”

           You did as he commanded, sinking yourself onto his stiff, thick cock, eyes fluttering closed at the immense pleasure of being so full again. Your legs trembled, having just gotten their agency back and still numb from being tied. But you pushed through the lingering pain, desperate to please him. You rocked your hips slowly, letting him slip completely inside of you once more. The new position had his perfect cock hitting you in all new ways, sending new jolts of pleasure down your spine.

           Shinsou cupped both your breasts in his hands, using them as leverage to encourage you to rock harder and faster in his lap. His lips found yours again, tongue lapping against yours in a battle of dominance that he all too easily won. You felt the entire length of him slip from inside of you, only to slam back and fill you once again. The ecstasy overwhelmed you, knees slipping against the wet tiles. He kept his firm grip on your bouncing breasts, his strength and his capture weapon the only things keeping you upright in his lap.

           From this angle, your clit brushed against the violet curls at the base of his cock, stimulating you and emboldening you to roll faster against him, fraught to find your release. The coil in your belly was ready to burst, and his passionate mouth against your own was soaking up all the wanton moans you exhaled into him.

           But soon your own pace wasn’t enough for him. As much as he loved a show, he also needed his own release, and nothing set him on edge more than having full control. His big hands slid down from your breasts to your hips, using his might to lift your body in his own and thrust his hips up into your sweltering heat at a faster, more brutal pace. You broke from his lips with a scream, and the sound of his own grunts had your eyes opening to see him.

           His head was dipped back against the wall, eyes closed and lips just barely parted. His damp indigo hair was tussled into wild plumes, curving over his thick neck and expertly corded shoulders. He looked like a god below you, and felt divine within you. His thumb swirled against your clit again, and the unexpected touch had you exploding into euphoria.

           “That’s right, kitty,” his eyes opened then, lust simmering within them as he caught your gaze, “I want you to come for me now.”

           The circles of his thumb quickened, his cock still mercilessly pounding up into your core. You could feel the broad head moving against your insides, veins protruding even more noticeably than before. You felt like a toy in his hands, like his cock was too big for you and he still kept hammering himself into you for his own pleasure.

           Finally, you came, screams rippling from your throat and eyes closing as you allowed the waves of euphoria to wash over your body, every single nerve ending exploding with ecstasy and pleasure in intensities you had never felt before. Your walls struggled to clench around his massive cock, the fluttering of your insides lasting longer and longer as your body writhed in white hot heat. His cock never slowed, and your bouncing body was continually thrown over the orgasmic ledge, nerves trying to find purchase against the onslaught of his hips. Your hands were wrapped into fists around the binding above your head, gripping like you were trying to keep yourself afloat amidst the sea of ecstasy that your body was being tossed into.

           You ultimately came down from your high, body limp as he fucked up into you. With a satisfied sigh, you called out to him, “Hitoshi…”

           Your weak voice, and the image before him of your listless body riding upon his cock, had him tumbling over his own edge. He rasped out your name as he came, hot ropes of thick cum spilling inside of you. His cock throbbed and pulsated inside your womb, his lungs panting for breath as his fingertips gripped into your sweaty, damp skin. His chest heaved, shoulders slumping in bliss as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

           You both sat against the cold tiles, breathing hard and letting your minds come back to earth. Your head was slumped down in front of your body, hair pooling around your cheeks and his chest. The fabric of his capture weapon was the only thing keeping you from sinking into him. His cock was still hard and hot within you.

           After a few moments, one of his hands left your hips, reaching up to grab your chin and pull your head up to look at him. He smirked at you, glancing over the already blooming bruises he left on your breasts, your hips, and the broken, purple skin on your throat from his bite.

           “Fuck, kitty, you really took a beating. Are you feeling okay?”

           You laughed, straightening your shoulders and pulling your body up by gripping the ribbons, legs twitching against his thighs.

           “I feel great,” your voice was weak, but your smile was beaming as you chuckled, “we should probably shower and clean up, don’t you think?”

           He laughed, kissing your lips kindly as he released your aching arms. He helped you stand, marveling over how strong your body must have been to withstand his fucking and his bindings. You stretched like the little cat that you were, waking up all the muscles that had gone dormant.

           You both rinsed off quickly, grabbing towels and finally drying your bodies.

           “I meant what I said earlier,” he said nonchalantly, like he was expecting you to know what he meant.

           You continued to get dressed and thought for a moment, thinking back through the hot haze of memories. Your mouth fell open in realization.

           “You want me to be yours?”

           “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had and I’ve had my eye on you for a while. You don’t have to say yes right now, but maybe another good fuck could convince you.”

           You slung your bag over your shoulder, letting him lean down and kiss you. You relished in the taste of him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and threading your fingers through the hair you had so carefully washed.

           “Yea, another good fuck wouldn’t hurt.”

------------------------------------------

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Coming Down (Ethan x MC)

Summary: They break up. Dassit

A/N: I’ve been tired of this imposter Ethan, and the back of forth nature of his romance route for the entirety of book 3, so I wrote this.

Warnings: None

Title Inspo

~v~

Naomi’s fingernails tap impatiently against her leg as the shrill ring of her cell phone rings at her ear. It rings 5 long times before she’s sent to voicemail.

“Hello, you’ve reached Dr. Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry for not answering your phone call, but leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you.”

“Ethan, it’s me...again. I haven’t heard from you in,” lifting her wrist, Naomi checks the time on her watch, “wow, in over 24 hours. I’ve been calling and calling, to no avail, and you just aren’t responding.”

The news of Ethan getting hit with a malpractice lawsuit hit her like a freight train. As soon as things started to feel good again, as soon as the diagnostics team started to find its rhythm with two new physicians, this torpedoes any chance of normalcy she could ever experience.

“If you could give me a call back and let me hear the sound of your voice, that’d be great. Bye.”

There’s a lot more that she wants to say, but she’s been given a limited window of time so Naomi hangs up.

Switching tactics, Naomi opens up her messages, and scrolls to her thread with Ethan.

Naomi: Hi

Naomi: Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in a while.

Naomi: Can you at least reply, telling me to leave you alone?

Naomi: At this point, I’d settle for at least knowing if you’re alive.

She waits a few minutes, and when she gets no response, she shoves her phone into the pocket of her white coat. Anxiousness and worry pools in the pit of her stomach, and the only thing she can think about is Ethan’s well being. And this situation doesn’t bode well because Naomi is still in the middle of her shift.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of quiet chatter as the door to the diagnostics team’s office opens and in walks Tobias and Harper. Their conversation is cut short once they notice the youngest member of the team.

“Hi, Naomi,” Tobias greets, an easygoing smile adorning his face. “What’s up?”

She wishes she could feel as casual as he looks, because every part of her body is twisted inside out and turned upside down.

“Have either of you talked to Ethan today?” Naomi asks, skipping the pleasantries.

“I spoke to him yesterday just to gauge how he was handling the malpractice suit,” Tobias answers. “Obviously, the conversation didn’t last long because he and I rarely interact outside of these four walls, but he seems…” he trails off when he notices Naomi’s face fall. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

Any other time, Naomi would be ecstatic to hear about Tobias extending an olive branch, and Ethan actually accepting the support, but today isn’t that day. She’s been trying to get in touch with him all day with no success, but he answers a phone call from his sworn enemy?

“I haven’t heard from Ethan today, so I’m at least glad to know he’s breathing,” Naomi says, her voice tight.

Too caught up in her own pity party, Naomi misses the way Tobias and Harper exchange worried glances. The team has been through enough the past few months, the last thing they need is romantic friction between Ethan and Naomi seeping into the office.

“Maybe he’s turned his phone off since then?” Tobias suggests. “Times like this can force you into an introspective mood, and he’s probably going technology free.”

Naomi chuckles humorlessly. She appreciates Tobias’s effort to satiate her foul mood, but she can’t think of a single excuse short of death that could justify Ethan’s behavior.

She stands, dusting off her coat and straightening it out. “Thanks. I’m going to get some lab work done on our patient, page me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Without another word, Naomi exits the office.

Working helps slightly. For an hour or so, Naomi is successful in turning off her brain and focusing diligently on work. She manages to not think about Ethan at all.

Until she hears his name brought up in conversation. She’s strolling towards the nurse's station when she sees Sarah and another nurse, Ronnie huddled in a corner.

“Sounds like Dr. Ramsey’s not as perfect as everyone thinks, huh?”

“Screwing up a standard tracheotomy that way? Frankly, I’m just surprised it took the patient this long to sue!”

Naomi slows her steps before she stops walking all together. The nurses are so engrossed in their conversation, they don’t even notice her.

“I heard from Marlene that the patient wouldn’t have even needed a trach if they hadn’t dosed her wrong in the first place,” Sarah adds in an excited whisper.

“Seriously? That’s next level…”

Her first instinct is to stop this, to tell them to stop talking, the urge to protect Ethan still as strong as it’s always been.

But she stops herself from doing that. Because why should she? Why should she put forth the effort to defend the honor and reputation of a man that doesn’t even have the decency to answer her phone calls?

And just like that, she’s plunged back into her flurry of conflicting emotions: worry, fear, annoyance, and most of all, anger. The emotions war inside her, all fighting for dominance, and she hasn’t felt like this since her intern year when he left to go to South America without any sort of goodbye or correspondence.

That wasn’t a good period in her life. Naomi can still feel the cold grip of anxiety that plagued her chest when she came into work one day and he was nowhere to be seen. She heard through a LVN that he left before confirming it with Naveen. She can still taste the saltiness of the tears she shed after leaving her 5th unanswered voicemail. Experiencing such a high of beating her ethics trial and getting picked for the diagnostic team,  and the low of him leaving in that short amount of time left her spiraling and isolated, and it took entirely too much time clawing herself out of that dark place.

Turning on her heel, Naomi speed walks in the other direction, her original plan long forgotten. The hospital passes her by in a blur as her legs move, the rest of her body and brain moving on autopilot.

She doesn’t stop moving until she’s in front of the residents’ lounge. She spots Aurora, Bryce, and Sienna sitting at a table.

“Naomi, come join us!” Sienna exclaims. “We’re going to make cappuccinos with this fancy machine.”

“I’ll have to take a raincheck on that,” Naomi says. She turns to Bryce. “Can I borrow your car keys please?”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just have a couple errands to run and I don’t feel like taking the train. I’ll bring it back with a full tank of gas and everything.”

“I’m not gonna nitpick you about gas, Omi.” Bryce’s warm gaze sweeps across Naomi’s face, studying her. If he notices anything wrong with her, which he probably does because Bryce is a lot more perceptive than he gives himself credit for, he thankfully doesn’t mention it. He reaches into the pocket of his mint green scrub pants and pulls out his keys. He tosses the keys to Naomi with a wink, and she catches them mid air.

“I keep a shovel in the trunk in case you need to bury a body.”

Whether he realizes what is going on with her, or if he just cracked a joke to lighten the mood, Naomi is grateful either way.

~v~

Naomi spends an hour driving around Boston, people watching and attempting to collect her thoughts before she ends up in Back Bay at Ethan’s apartment complex. She didn’t want to go to his house in her previous state, guns blazing and emotions all over her place.

Even on the ride on the elevator up to his unit, her stomach is in knots and her heart beats faster than normal. She hasn’t been this nervous about seeing Ethan in a long time, and it dawns on her just how fucked this entire situation is. Why should she be nervous to talk to the man who claims to want to be with her?

Steeling her nerves, Naomi issues three sharp knocks to Ethan’s front door. Approximately 45 seconds pass before the door opens.

“Naomi!” Ethan’s eyes widen when he sees her standing there. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you going to let me in, or should we have this conversation in the hallway?” Naomi asks. Ethan steps aside, widening the door so Naomi can enter. “Thank you.”

The apartment is stale, like Ethan hasn’t opened the windows in a few days. He looks disheveled, the bags under his eyes are extremely pronounced like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

For lack of a better word, Ethan is a mess. And she wants nothing more than to just...wrap her arms around him and make everything better. But she doesn’t. She keeps her distance.

Ethan shuts the door before turning back to her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No.”

“Well let’s sit down.”

“No, I think I’d rather stand because I don’t plan on being here long.”

The coldness stuns Ethan. Naomi almost seems indifferent towards him, something he’s never experienced before. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t bother greeting him warmly, no hug or kiss, no excitement in her voice, nothing.

“I needed to see with my own two eyes that you were alive and well,” Naomi starts. “Because you’ve gone radio silent on me. I know you’ve seen me calling and texting. Your phone works just fine because you picked up a call from Tobias of all people.”

He averts his gaze, ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry, I–”

She holds up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. Naomi doesn’t believe for one second that he’s apologizing due to actual remorse. “I have spent the entire day wracked with intense worry. I feel like I’ve been turned upside down, and I could barely focus on work. Every time I thought I could be productive, something or someone was there to remind me of you. And then I’d spend more time ruminating over you and your situation, and the fact that you’re ignoring me, and then I’d feel like absolute shit. And earlier today, as I listened to the nurses gossip about you, I realized that this feels so much like your two month sabbatical to the Amazon, and our relationship hasn’t changed at all since then.”

“That’s not true,” Ethan argues.

“It is,” Naomi insists. “One step forward doesn’t mean anything if we end up taking two steps back immediately afterwards. A year and a half later, you’re still holding me at arms length, keeping yourself closed off, ignoring my calls.”

“I don’t mean to do this, to be this way.”

“But you continue to do it, so at this point you have to see it’s a pattern. You won’t even open up and talk to me about this lawsuit that’s being waged against you.”

“I just don’t want you getting needlessly involved.”

“While it’s a noble excuse, it’s complete and utter bullshit. If you think you’re doing something to save my reputation, remember nothing you do will ever top me almost losing my medical license my intern year, and then having a resident face a malpractice lawsuit a few months later. So come on, give me another excuse.”

“I’m doing this for you!”

“How? How could this possibly be for me?”

“Everything I touch becomes tainted!” Ethan snaps. “Because there is something wrong, in which everyone arounds me leaves or dies, or everything falls apart. I don’t have control or autonomy over anything, so yes, the one precious thing in my life, I’m too scared to touch.”

“But I have been right here with you! I was right here in this exact same spot when we worked on Naveen’s case. I sat by your side while we watched over Dolores’s son. I was there when they wheeled your mother into the hospital, and when you took her to rehab. Time and time again, I’ve proven to you that my loyalty is steadfast, and not once have I ever wavered, so you don’t get to stand here and punish me for some unrealized fear. You don’t get to treat me like I’m a passenger in this relationship, if you can even call it that.”

That’s what gives him pause. “Of course this is a relationship.”

“This isn’t a relationship, I am just a woman you sleep with. Occasionally you open up to me, we share a cute moment and promises, and then you clam up and up goes the barriers, and it starts all over again. And every single time, we’re a little bit deeper into this thing we’re in. I’ve shared more, I’ve let myself be more vulnerable with you, emotionally and physically, I’ve deluded myself into thinking ‘This time it’s the real thing,’. And I’m afraid that this is going to be our reality. One day I wake up, 3 years in, tentatively living with you, trying to settle into the pieces of a life I’ve scrounged up with you, and you do this again.”

“I don’t speak on it, and I don’t like to because I try to keep it all together, but you don’t understand the toll it takes on me every time we do this back and forth. I was a train wreck when you quit. I had the trial looming over my head, Landry, a guy I considered one of my closest friends betrayed me in the worst possible way, you weren’t the only person scared of losing Naveen, and I couldn’t even verbalize any of it to you because you slammed a door in my face when I tried to bring it up, and then you left me. And then you did it again, and I spent two months worried that you might not even come home because you could contract the deadly disease you were off fighting. And then you go on national television declaring your relationship status, and you made promises to me on my deathbed that led nowhere, and then finally we make some headway in Hawaii and establish what we have going on, and then I come home to this. So while you say one thing to me, time and time again, your actions say otherwise. It’s clear I’m not a priority.” 

This conversation triggers Ethan’s fight or flight response. He doesn’t know where this conversation is headed, but he’s smart enough to know it’s nowhere good.

“Naomi, what are you saying? Spell it out to me like I’m a preschooler.”

“I think we need a break,” Naomi says in one breath, afraid she’ll break if she prolongs this any further. The six words leave a sour taste in her mouth that she has to choke back.

“No,” Ethan’s tone is gruff, and the seriousness almost startled Naomi. “No, we’re not breaking up.”

“From where I’m standing, we already have,” Naomi retorts. “I’m just confirming it.”

Ethan takes one long stride towards Naomi, but she takes a step back. “Look, I am a daft asshole to put it mildly, and I know I have a lot of work to do, but this is by no means a reason for us to break up.” He takes another step forward, and now Naomi is backed up against the door. He tugs her forward, wrapping his arms around her. “I am sorry. I know the words probably sound hollow, but trust me when I say I mean it. I’ll fix this, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re the only person I want, the only one I’ll ever want, and I’m not losing you. Not now, not ever.”

Through this right embrace, Naomi can feel just how rapidly his heart is beating. He’s scared.

A tear slips from the corner of her eye, and she’s too drained to even wipe it away. “This is reactionary. You’re saying all of this because you’re panicked, but if you meant any of what you just said, it wouldn’t take the threat of a breakup in order to want to change things.”

“It shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize what a fool I’ve been,” Ethan says. He refuses to let go of her, his arms still wrapped so tightly around her petite frame, he almost worries about crushing her.

“I agree.” What does that even mean? She gives him nothing more than that, and Ethan is left to stew in his own doubt and worry. Naomi breaks free of his embrace and presses a palm to his chest, signaling him to give her some space. “But I still think we need some space.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Trust me, I do.”

It becomes hard to breathe. When Ethan woke up this morning, the last thing he expected was Naomi to dump him. “What can I do? Tell me how to fix this. Do you want consistency? Done, I’ll talk to you every single day, multiple times a day. Transparency? Sit down right now, and I’ll explain this entire lawsuit top to bottom. You want proof that I’m never going to up and leave again, you can take my fucking passport. Naomi, I don’t care what I have to do, I will do it, but I will not accept you walking out of that door.”

Naomi inhales deeply, trying to stop a full son from bursting out of her chest. He’s saying all the right things, but at the wrong time. It’s too late now. “I’ve warred with myself all day about this decision. You’re clearly not in the right space to sustain a healthy relationship, and that’s fine. I just need to remove myself from the situation, for my own health and well-being. And I think you need to do the same.”

“So...what? This is it? It’s over?”

“Let’s be honest Ethan, you never gave us the opportunity to begin.” She wants to touch him so badly, reach out a run her hand through his hair or stroke his beard one more time. It takes everything in her to not. “You’re a great doctor, one of the best ones I know, so I really hope you beat this entire lawsuit and I get to see you back at Edenbrook. Take care of yourself, Ethan.

Ethan shakes his head in denial. He refuses to let things end like this, and for her to give him the same cool professionalism she extends to every other coworker.

“Naomi, wait–”

She’s out of his apartment before he can convince her to stay. It doesn’t register until he hears the soft click of her door shutting that she’s actually gone. And another minute passes before the gravity of the situation finally dawns on him.

For the first time in a long time, he’s truly alone.

~v~

Tags: @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest @schnitzelbutterfingers @missmiimiie @stateofgracious @mooons-isabelle @doilooklikeiknow

[hes-writer]

Halo

Summary: y/n feels guilty for missing harry

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, mentions of vomiting and nausea, mentions of implied smut

Word Count: 7648 words

A/N: @devilinbetweenthesheet-s : don’t cheat and don’t do drugs, kids.

inspired by one of my anons. some parts are real and some parts aren’t :)

Tarnish (1)  .  Halo (2) .  Reign (3) . 

Reign Taglist 

___

When the relationship ended, Y/N imagined being bed-ridden. A lack of motivation to do anything casual such as standing. Watching the television seemed to be a task that required all of her energy and full-attention to be able to understand the subtitles on the screen. Her friends would knock continuously on her door to be met with no response because she was asleep or Y/N couldn’t be bothered with pitiful conversation asking her if she was okay. She would be too tempted to ask how Harry was doing when she could easily pull out her phone and search his name in a few quick taps. These used to be easy; as easy as breathing and loving Harry was easier than loving herself.

How was he doing? Y/N hoped that Harry was regretting his actions. She was yearning for the vibration of her phone to restart her heart like an AED stuck to her chest, sending her pulses to remember that they were not what they used to be. Or maybe the snippy ringtone Y/N had set specifically for him and only him would ring through the air as she wallowed in a burrito blanket. Frankly too emotionally worn out to even move an inch as she watched her phone face down on the bedside table of her new apartment.

Life doesn’t wait until Y/N is capable of being back on her feet before thundering down with the foundations of living. Five days into the breakup did she realize that the money she had saved up would be spent faster than she can replace it if she stayed any longer at the hotel near the heart of downtown. It was a spur of the moment decision to ‘treat herself’; she thought she deserved it after being called names and thrown aside like a used toy. And on the fifth day, she was on the lookout for places to live in as she adjusted to her new life without Harry.

It wasn’t like Y/N was completely dependent on him. She had a well-paying job; just not as good as his. And she could afford a nice apartment, just not as nice as his mansion. Nor did it have the same toasty feeling that enveloped her when she walked through the doors. Y/N told herself that she would give it a few months; that maybe it was just the change in setting that misplaced every bone in her body because everything she did felt off. Deep down, Y/N knew that things weren’t the same without him. She could either live a life reminiscing how she--they--used to do things or she could change and adapt to this ball thrown at her.

The decision was in her hands, yet she hesitated with every gambling thought crossing her mind. On one hand, she was used to a routine. It was a routine that never got boring to her, solely because Harry found a way to make things interesting; refreshing. On the other, Y/N would be in a never-ending comparison of how much she missed him or pat her shoulders because she was able to compromise the old parts of her that existed when Harry was around and to integrate it with a new version that was wary of anybody getting close to her.

The challenge was not easy when the media got hold of the news. It seemed as if everywhere Y/N went---mixed reactions and judgement attacked her with doe eyes offering the best of luck or disgusted snickers telling that she deserved it and that they--Camille and Harry--were perfect for each other. But when Y/N quite literally was carrying a piece of him and her inside her stomach did she step up to what she had to become to raise her baby.

It seemed like yesterday when Y/N stared at her reflection in the en-suite bathroom of Harry’s home, pinching at a subtle layer of fat that she was sure wasn’t there a few days ago. Bloated cheeks that added a fullness to her face were substituted as the result of a bright smile plastered on her face because she Harry had pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before she left for work that day. The sudden aversion to fragrant foods she absolutely adored flew right over her head and excused as a bad batch.

And the most painful memory was the day Harry and Y/N’s relationship ended. The beginning of something new, something beautiful was right under their noses. Y/N wondered what could have happened if she didn’t find the letter. When the symptoms of pregnancy became more obvious each day; would Harry notice the change in her physique? The crinkle of her nose when met with a sandwich containing pickles that she used to love?

Y/N couldn’t help but envision holding the stick with a tiny ‘+’ pixelated by dark colours. Sitting on the closed toilet seat as she contemplated delivering the news to him in the early hours of the morning after she was awoken by a flush of morning sickness. Y/N daydreamed about watching his sleeping face smooth out of any lines as he dreamed peacefully and wondered if this was still a part of what he wanted with her. Maybe she would jostle him gently, rousing him with a poke as she kneeled on his side of the bed, flailing the pregnancy test between her fingers until he blinked the sleep out of his waterline. Harry would present her a doozy smile before realizing what she held--to which he would sit up faster than he had ever done, gazing at her with a pleading stare. For Y/N to confirm that yes, she was pregnant. Yes, they were going to have a baby and yes, Harry was going to be a father. A little family in the works.

But that daydream was reeled in like a fishing hook in grave waters as reality grounded her. She was apparently two months into her pregnancy when Y/N had mistaken the sickness as an inevitable reaction to finding out his infidelity. Hearing him say the term of endearment as if he had not used it with another person made Y/N want to grab him by the shoulders to hold a steady contact, jostling him until answers spilled out of his mouth. Answers that Y/N deemed justifiable but was there ever a good excuse for cheating? She wanted to strip him out of the apologies filling his mouth and get straight to the question of why he had done it. But even then, Y/N knew that there was no way she was going to be satisfied with his answers. It was just a matter of her accepting that the idea of ‘what could have been’ would live inside her head because she was the only one that knew about the life inside of her.

Harry had not made an effort to speak to her besides arranging the dates to pick up her things. She had to wear large clothes to hide her growing belly because Y/N wasn’t sure if she even had the right to tell him something so personal anymore. It fit well with the narrative that she was a depressed homebody that craved the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the weight of his arms around her. Albeit that he was the father, Harry had obviously moved on way before they ended; a little over a year ago now to be precise.

Y/N was almost one-hundred percent sure that Harry had blocked her number. Scratch that, she was certain if the way her messages failed to send were anything to go by. She could handle seeing the handle of ‘read’ on the bottom of a message because at least she’d know that Harry did read it and that he was aware. But watching the encircled, crimson exclamation point appear was just another reminder that he planned to erase four years from his life to start anew.

____

So what if at four months, Y/N was attending another doctor’s appointment by herself, trying to amount to as little attention as possible? Well, today was the day that she was going to find out the baby’s gender. Her bump was definitely noticeable now and extremely uncomfortable especially sitting on a plastic, grey chair in the waiting room. The device in her hand felt like stone perceiving the icon of blaring red that indicated yet another failed message to the contact previously named ‘My Love’, now to just ‘Harry’.

Y/N: I’m finding out the gender of our baby today

Y/N: I’m hoping for a girl but either way, I just want the baby to be healthy.

“Y/N? Dr. O’Sullivan is ready to see you,” The nurse clad in scrubs walked out with a clipboard gripped in her hands.

Y/N stood up, pausing to retrieve her items. She took a breath before entering the room, catching sight of the doctor in his stereotypical white coat focused on the computer screen that showed her information.

“You know what to do. Good luck today,” The nurse mused, handing her a folded hospital gown to change into as she pointed towards the direction of the room with a little nook to change privately. After struggling a bit with pulling off her top, Y/N tied the strings of the hospital gown.

“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He asked, standing up to gather the items he would need. Y/N made herself comfortable on the small bed, the white paper crinkling as her weight shifted.

She sighed deeply, “I’m alright. Really excited, actually,” A grin appeared on her face with just how close she was to find out the gender of the baby, “How about you?”

“Good as always,”

Connor O’Sullivan was the name of the doctor. They met when Y/N was in search of the top-tier family doctor’s around the city and instantly had a connection. He had a trustworthy aura that Y/N deemed acceptable to guide her to a healthy pregnancy. A friendship had definitely blossomed around the doctor-patient boundary but they stayed within their limits. Inside jokes existed but it had never crossed the line. And sure, touches to the shoulder happened once in a while but nothing had escalated further.

Y/N’s baby bump was exposed to the cool room. She shivered when a gloved hand applied the gel on her taut skin. Stretch marks were littering the sides of her tummy. It was itchy and uncomfortable. However, it was tolerable especially after applying a combination of creams and oil to soothe the ache. It was also another reminder that she really was about to become a mother.

“Cold?” Connor teased with an easy smile. Y/N rolled her eyes upwards in response, “You’re the doctor here,”

He chuckled, directing her attention to the small screen beside them. The static fizz of black and white slowly morphing to a more discernible image as he attached the device to her skin, finding the perfect angle to produce a clear picture. The first time Y/N saw her little baby; it was the size of a lemon. The next couple of visits showed progression in their growth; tiny baby feet, stubby legs, and sprouting fingers could be seen on the ultrasound.

They looked more and more like a proper baby now--like the ones one would see in the clinics and Y/N really couldn’t believe that she was about to find out their gender. Y/N couldn’t tell just by inspecting the picture because of her lack of expertise.

“You’re having a. . .” Connor began, edging his voice at the last word. He wiggled his brows as Y/N’s eyes widened.

She balled her fists, “Oh, hell. Just spit it out, C,”

“A girl. You’re having a little girl,” He peered up at the patient, watching tears fill the brim of her waterline as she gasped, palming her slightly open mouth.

“A-a girl?” Y/N craned her head to look at the square image, blurrier because of the tears but beautiful nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m having a girl,”

The doctor wiped the gel off of her tummy with a cloth, switching off the machine as he waited for another reaction out of her. Y/N tossed her legs to the side, putting on her slip-on vans to fully-comprehend the news. “I’m having a baby girl,”

Connor nodded, releasing an ‘oomph’ at a sudden pressure around his middle. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tube of his stethoscope dangling against her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, happy tears streaming out. He returned the gesture with soft rubs on her lower back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional,” Y/N pulled away with a huff, using her fingertips to rub the wetness towards her temple. “I’m so happy but I just wished that he was--,” She cut herself off, pursing her lips as an image of Harry carrying their baby appeared in her head.

“I understand, Y/N.” Connor mirrored her distraught expression as he really did feel sorry for Y/N. However, he couldn’t explain the extra twinge in his heart at seeing her frown over a lost love. “You’re doing great on your own,”

She sighed for possibly the tenth time that day, “We both wanted to name her Halo if it’s a girl or Arlo if it’s a boy. It reminds me of what an angel she will be,”

“Wait until she gets older,” Connor joked to lighten the mood, receiving a glimmer from Y/N. “What d’ya say you get changed and I’ll print out this ultrasound, sounds good? A few more months then we can meet baby Halo,”

Halo.

___

Harry’s relationship with Camille was a dream. It was everything he imagined, maybe even better. The first time they dabbled on getting together was four years ago, before Y/N was even around in his life. There could be so many things right about a relationship and it could still be wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right place, the right time, or they simply had too many disagreements and flaws that both parties were unwilling to work it to make them--work.

Usually, the third time would be a charm but Harry felt that he and Camille didn’t need a third time. As he said, the past couple of months felt like a dream. He could close his eyes and still feel the soft skin of the woman he loves grazing his fingertips. He couldn’t help but transpire into a new chapter of their love; one where it wasn’t just them tumbling in the sheets. When the squeals in the kitchen while making breakfast were paired with pleads for whipped cream on their pancakes; a child.

Harry was old enough to know what he wanted--at least, he thought he was--and a family was in his books. He finally found a partner who had the same mindset in their future; Camille. At first, he was absolutely sure that Y/N could not be erased from; but her name wasn't set in stone and once he found someone better--no way in hell was he going to let that be a missed opportunity.

__

Camile sighed softly, laying on Harry's bare chest as he pulled the sheets over their clammy bodies. Their orgasms settled in their veins, the rush and panting breaths calming down with each blink of an eye.

With her finger swirling patterns on his skin, Harry stared at the ceiling in hesitant contemplation, “Babe, have you ever thought of getting off the pill?” She paused.

“Uh, sure, but then we would have to use a condom?” Her voice raised at the end in curiosity.

Harry released an awkward chuckle, gently swivelling her body off of him so he could sit up. Reaching over, his fingers found the flip of the light switch that turned the bedside lamp on. He smiled at her appearance, mirroring his stance as she sat on the bed, a sheet clung around her body.

He shook his head, “No, no. No condoms, no pills and, y’know. . .”

The confusion was evident on Camille’s features, “I don’t exactly understand what you’re trying to say, H--,’

“‘M asking if y’wanna try for a baby, love.’

Silence overtook the room. Harry held his breath in his throat, seemingly trying to swallow down the lump that had formed because of her lack of response. She cleared her throat.

���A baby?” Harry nodded with excitement despite the flat tone whipping past her lips. “I--don’t know how to say this, Harry. I’ve never wanted kids.”

His face fell, the words lingering around his head like a flock of birds. The dizzying epiphany rattled his head clear of any other thoughts besides the fact that there was a hole in his book; burnt and toasted with sparks inkling his skin.

“W-why not?” His palms fell flat on the silky sheets, fisting the fabric to keep him settled. “A mini you and a mini-me running around the house. Won’t that be fun, baby? Don’t you want that?”

It almost hurt Camille to see the grin plastered on his face, hopeful eyes practically begging her to change her mind. But she couldn’t.

“Harry, that part will be fun. What won’t be fun is getting huge, morning sickness, weird cravings, hormonal imbalance, the aftermath of labour, the sleepless nights, the puke, the changing diapers, the back pain, the headaches, the fights when they’re older and so much more” Her accent rippled with each explanation rejecting the idea.

Harry huffed, crossing his arms subconsciously to shield himself, “But it’ll be worth it,”

“It won’t be,” Camille scooted closer to him, situating herself on her knees so that she could look into his eyes clearly. “Look, I made up my mind ages ago and I thought you felt the same since you haven’t settled down yet”

“I was jus’ lookin’ for the right person,” His head dipped down, dropping his gaze their intertwined hands. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Cam. We can make it work. We’ll have our own family. We’ll be okay,”

She shook her head in refusal, “It will be okay for you, H.” Harry could feel her hands itching to slip past his. He held her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. “You can get back to work immediately. I’m a model and it takes time to lose weight. Even when I do--I won’t look the same. It’ll take me months, if not years to even resemble my present body.

“I don’t care how your body looks. You’re still gonna’ look amazing. You think I won’t love you after birthing our little baby?” With brows pressed together, he pouted his lip in curiosity as she rolled her eyes.

Camille sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t want children, Harry. The sooner you understand that the better. It’s MY body. I’ll be carrying the kid around for 9 months. No thank you.” She stood up, stumbling slightly as the sheets tangled around her feet.

He followed suit. His height towered over her as she crouched down to collect the pieces of clothing strewn around haphazardly in a rush to have each other. “But it’ll be MY baby, Cam. OUR baby, don’t you want that?”

Fingernails dug into the skin of her palm, holding her clothes as she spoke, “I don’t, Harry. Why can’t you just accept that?”

In the heat of the moment, Harry couldn’t help but quell the ache in his chest with a memory he thought he had thrown away, “Because Y/N and I planned to have a family. A-and I thought you and I could have one too,”

Camille huffed, keeping her distance. She walked to the bathroom, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fucking cheated on her then,”

___

His fight with Camille left the both of them on edge, barely able to handle the thick tension surrounding the house. Even though she took refuge in the bedroom and Harry wandered to the kitchen to cool off; it was impossible for them to stay in one place without having another argument.

Harry didn’t mean to let the memory slip past his lip. He hated it when he found himself comparing his past relationships to his current one. He felt that there was no need to do so, especially when the point of all of it was to start anew. Harry guessed that his desire to have a family was too powerful to keep his thoughts in check. The ache bubbling in his chest rose to a boil with each rejection that Camille answered with.

It wasn’t like he didn’t respect her decision. He really did. But Harry didn’t know if he was going to be happy being with her without progressing into something more through the years. What he was asking from her is just as difficult as what she was asking from him. Camille didn’t want to have children and Harry didn’t want to not have kids. There was no room for compromise if they both, mutually, wanted to respect each other's' decisions’ to the absolute fullest. However, the chances of him living a content life were zero to none.

And that was how Harry ended up at a bar, alone, at nine o’clock in the evening. They were invited by his friend, Kora, to a birthday celebration. Harry was reaching the limit of his threshold having to fake a smile and a chuckle while saying, “Camille’s feelin’ a bit sick tonight. ‘S just me,”

The thing with this celebration was that Kora was initially Y/N’s friend. He and Kora had become close friends while he was with Y/N and he guessed that that was the reason why he was invited. Although, it made him wonder why one of Y/N’s best friends invited him when she was aware of what happened between them. Surely, there was no way that Kora would invite Y/N, Harry, and Camille to the same crowded space, would she?

The sudden nervousness swirling at the pit of his stomach came with a quick neck as Harry scanned each premise of the bar. It was difficult considering the dim lighting and endless amounts of heads moving against each other. He hoped to see Y/N; just to see how she was doing! But he also felt like puking the alcohol he consumed because--as much as he wanted to admit it or not--he missed her.

After a half-hour of being vigilant, Harry willed himself to relax by the counter. Leaning one elbow on the wood as he spoke to another person regarding his upcoming album.

‘Yeah, yeah. It’s goin’. ‘M really excited for it cause’ I’ve got a lot of inspiration for some reason,” Harry answered with unyielding precision.

“We both know where that came fro--Oh hi! Sorry, H. Gotta check in on, Johnny,”

He rolled his eyes under closed lids, sipping on his drink, eyeing Kora when he heard a quip of Y/N’s name. Harry inconspicuously moved closer to her, making sure that he didn’t catch her attention.

“You’re not here,” Kora yelled with a whine to her tone. Her drunk self was still coherent enough to embark on the bartender to make another drink for her. However, Harry guessed that her senses were obscured with the way she yelled through the phone despite it being held to her ear and the function tapped to ‘speaker’.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you, Kora,” Y/N’s gentle chuckle rumbled through the speaker, making Harry smile. It was the first time he heard it in a while. He sometimes wondered if he had the right to feel relieved when Harry was the one that blocked her number in the first place.

“It’s my birthday! Why aren’t you here drinking with us?” Kora quietly thanked the bartender.

Harry’s curiosity spiked; why wasn’t Y/N here tonight?

“It’s because I’m pregnant, silly. Can’t really do that when I’ve got a bubba in my tummy,” Both women giggled, Kora, making a sound of acknowledgement, “Ohhh right!”

He really wished that he would have stuck by long enough to hear more of their conversation but Kora’s boyfriend was approaching her and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything if he was honest.

She moved on fast, Harry thought. He was definitely sounding like an entitled jerk. Hear him out though; Harry was happy with Camille. Yes, he had been cheating on Y/N for a whole year and yes, she had to find out through a letter but Y/N was pregnant.

Did she really move on that quickly?

___

Despite the guilt gnawing at her for missing her best friend Kora’s birthday, Y/N was also looking forward to getting some sleep. It was a couple of hours after their phone call together when the nauseating tightening of Y/N’s chest woke again and had been for the past three days.

It was a horrible feeling that spread from the confines of her stomach. The bile rising up from her throat that left a burning feeling from the acids that escaped her mouth as she quickly threw the covers away from her legs, running towards the direction of her bathroom where she emptied the remnants of her stomach from last night’s craving of pickles and hot Cheetos. Her chest heaved with exertion as she draped her arms over the white porcelain of the disinfected toilet, hunching over as her stomach seemingly pumped away toxins.

Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, visibly shuddering as she pointed a finger to flush the toilet. She had a feeling that she won’t be getting any more sleep despite the time being three o’clock in the morning. Halo was insistent on staying up past normal bedtime hours. Y/N sighed, walking lethargically towards the dresser to retrieve her phone before heading to the living room nearby.

Y/N: You up, doc?

The blue loading bar swooped to the right as Y/N sent a message to Connor. She was at the peak of her pregnancy and her due date was occurring within a few weeks. A lot had changed since the day she found out the gender of her baby. Between the emotional trauma of having been broken up with--the hard-hitting fact was that Y/N was pushed into a direction of pregnancy that wasn’t exactly her ideal path. She pretty much preferred the dream-like sequence of having Harry accompanying her to her ultrasounds.

Just as Y/N was about to delve into another imaginary scenario of Harry sending her cute baby onesies that he would absolutely need to purchase for their little one, the humming of her phone pulled her from drowning in pathetic wishes and desires.

Connor: What’s up, Y/N?

She jutted her lips as she typed out a response. Contemplating whether or not to send the message as Y/N’s thumb hovered over the arrow, she paused to wonder why she was feeling so guilty in texting another man months and antecedent her break up with Harry. He was happy with someone else, yet Y/N felt as if her feet were planted in a puddle of sticky glue; unable to move on from the life she built in her head. Although it hurt to admit that Harry only existed in her memories now, reminiscing the spoken words they have discussed was another stab to her already bruised heart.

Y/N: Halo’s keeping me up again..

Connor: Want me to come over?

To keep you company

The reply was instantaneous and she could not deny the flutter of her heart beating subtly despite the extremities it had endured. And Y/N couldn’t help but notice the jitter of her baby bump morphing a plump bulge where Halo had kicked it as if it was a stamp of approval of the man coming over.

It wasn’t the first time that Connor drove to her place at the brink of dawn to keep her company in case the sickness became too much for Y/N to handle. The first time was simply a desperate action because she was rattled by the sudden spike in dizziness and incoherence of her sickness that Y/N wasn’t confident in herself to handle it alone. Times after that were more for his comfort when Connor said that he would ‘rather be safe than sorry’ while he rubbed his palm up and down her back.

Minutes later, a knock on her door sounded, forcing Y/N to haul her plump body to the comfort of the sofa, pausing the rerun of a television show. She waddled towards the entrance, the fit of her pyjama waistband snuggly wrapping around her mid-belly. A stretch of skin exposed between her bottoms and her tank top.

“Hi, thank you for coming,” Y/N greeted shyly, widening the door to let Connor in as he chuckled, toeing off his shoes by the closet door.

He waved her off, “It’s no problem, really,” Connor assisted her back to her couch, aiding her by letting his hands stabilize in the air in case anything happened.

The moment their bottoms hit the cushions did Y/N realize the gravity of the guilt spiralling in her chest. Connor laughed softly, his back resting on the couch with his right arm resting on the top, fingertips barely brushing over her shoulder. He reached over the coffee table to obtain the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, picking one to munch on but not before looking over at Y/N.

“Want some?”

She snapped out of her daze, cheeks heating profusely at being caught blatantly staring at how Connor fit naturally into her home both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t have appeared at a better time when Y/N not only needed medical assistance and a support group by her side. However, she asked herself if he could be anything more than a friend. She shook her head ‘no’.

“No thanks. I’m quite full,” Y/N pressed a palm to her belly when a kick halted her breath. ‘Okay maybe a little,” She rolled her eyes, scolding Halo. “She’s a hungry one,”

��I’m gonna pop some more popcorn, kay? Be right back,”

Y/N heaved a sigh, watching Connor’s retrieving figure. Her admiration was cut off by the ringing of her phone.

___

Harry wasn’t so sober when he opened the door to his car. He wasn’t in his right mind either when he unblocked Y/N’s number and tapped on her name, switching the screen as it rang. He threw his head back against the headrest, biting his lip when the dial tone rang and rang.

“Hello?”

Harry’s breath hitched, losing his voice momentarily before his slowed brain caught up to move his tongue.

“Y/N? It’s Harry,” He spoke quietly, “Don’t hang up. Hear me out,” His ears stretched to pick up the click of a dropped call but he didn’t hear any.

“Heard from Kora that y’were pregnant, yeah? And I was wondering, whose is it?” The venom in his voice dripped. His drunken stupor rendered him unable to grasp reality.

“I’m not answering that,” Y/N’s tone was firm and direct. Harry could imagine her pursing her lips inwards.

“Why not? Scared that y’gonna have to admit that everything you put on was an act? How can y’move on so fast and give me shit about it?” The parking lot was filled with cars yet Harry could see that he was the only one currently occupying one. If there was a better metaphor of feeling alone in a crowded place; then he would love to hear it.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? You cheated on me! You slept with another woman while we were together. You loved another woman while we were together. For an entire year, you lied to me and deceived me,”

“Jus’. . .answer the question,” He pinched his nose bridge, a headache pounding from the bottom of his skull.

“How dare you speak to me this way? You have no right calling me up out of nowhere,” Y/N lowered the volume of her voice, “and asking all these ridiculous questions,”

“S’not ridiculous,”

She gave a smile to Connor who entered the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. Y/N clutched the phone to her chest. Connor situated his body beside her with a glimmering smile, his mouth twitching as he eyed her bump, “Can I talk to her?” A gentle question breezed past his lips, moving closer when Y/N gave him approval.

The man kneeled down on the floor, leaning his head downwards to speak to Halo, “Hey little one, y’gotta be nice to momma, okay?” His fingers waved when her feet kicked out. Connor looked up to Y/N with a proud smile, “Did you see that? She responded!”

___

Harry felt his heart clench as a new voice filled the speakers. His neurons were fried with each thought firing endlessly, “Who’s that?

“Don’t call me again,”

The dial tone rung in his ears, echoing in the quiet space of his Range Rover.

___

Pressing the power button for a few seconds, the device turned black and was left on the arm of the couch. The excitement in Connor’s voice brought a dreamy smile to Y/N’s face, chewing on some popcorn. The beating of her heart seemed to double at the sight of him being so thrilled with her baby.

“We can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re gorgeous,” Connor dropped his volume to a whisper to prevent Y/N from hearing, ‘’Like your mom,”

Y/N’s relaxed and comfortable state of mind mindlessly worked her hands to thread the hair on top of Connor’s head. Just like she used to do to Harry. Her expression dimmed at the thought, painting a faint simper when Connor looked at her in surprise before shrugging it off, continuing to talk to her bump. She shivered when a warm pair of lips attached to the skin of her stomach. Gentle pressure planting a kiss as Connor said his goodbyes to baby Halo.

“She’s a smart one, that much I can tell,” He confirmed, moulding his body to the lingering shape he had left behind in his previous position. And Y/N was flustered to say that she might have scooched a little closer to his body, snuggling her head at the junction of his shoulder.

“Can I?” She asked, doe eyes raising a question that would allow them to cross the boundary they had limited themselves to. He nodded reflexively as if he was awaiting this moment. Connor took the initiative to pull Y/N closer to him, subconsciously kissing the top of her head. The scent of the woman’s shampoo wafting through his nose and invading his senses in a sweet smell that he would gladly immerse himself to.

It was the most pleasant feeling for Y/N to completely let go of her former worries about starting anew when Connor was as cozy as a heater. He made Y/N feel safe and secure with his body shielding her and his actions hinting at a subdued attraction he hadn’t fully shown to her.

And Connor was proud of himself for not quite literally freaking out when Y/N smothered her face to his chest as time passed and the sun rays filtered through the blinds as she fell asleep. Her words mumbled in a jumbled mess about how she wished that morning sickness wasn’t called morning sickness.

It wasn’t totally accurate, she complained. She thought that it was a misleading name; catfishing perhaps. He had chuckled in response, tracing his fingers up and down her arm and feeling goosebumps rise on her skin.

The orange hue of the bright star painting the sky lighter and lighter until the pitch-black sight morphed into a mixture of shades that could only be described as beautifully grandiose--just like Y/N’s sleeping face when the sun casts a shadow to highlight her nose, scrunching with the slight graze of the back of Connor’s finger rubbing the tip. Or the way the luminescence caressed the apples of her cheeks where her lashes rested, mouth puffing breaths of air as she allowed herself to be vulnerable for the first time in months.

___

A heavy feeling had settled into Harry's chest after Y/N hung up the phone. The new voice he had heard had unmistakably been a man's. Who was he? Was Y/N having that man's baby?

Before he could help it, Harry was seething. He saw red, and if he were in a children's movie there would be steam coming out of his ears right about now. How dare she move on so fast? How could she have a baby with another man so soon? But when he thought about it; Harry couldn't even recall how long it had been since they'd broken up. It made him feel somewhat guilty. He hadn't meant to forget her. It had just happened.

His guilt soon manifested into frustration-- her being pregnant was a constant reminder that she had moved on with another man. Insecurity clawed at his insides- did he really mean that little to her? 'You cheated on her', his conscience pricked, but he brushed away the thought. He hated being reminded of his infidelity to his fiancée.

His defence mechanism kicked in like clockwork, using aggression to shield his insecurities. He opened his messages app and clicked her contact, typing drunkenly.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*'

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet youu did'

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck u'

He smiled smugly at his phone screen, satisfied with what he had sent her. He shut his phone off, and started his car, ready to drive back home. He knew he was being irresponsible, but between his current girlfriend not wanting a child and his ex being pregnant with one; he couldn't bring himself to care. He drove himself home, only to find a terribly worried Camille waiting for him to arrive.

He glanced at the huge clock on the wall behind her. 1:32 am. He shrugged his shoulders and brushed past her to their bedroom. In his drunken gait, he knocked over a metal tray. The loud 'clang' made him hiss and clutch his temples, a headache pounding in his skull.

Camille sighed and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and muttering a "come here, H" Despite his sour mood, he found himself craving affection. What he wouldn't admit was that he didn't crave Camille's affection in particular. He just wanted to be held and feel safe in someone's arms. Anyone's arms. But despite himself, he mumbled, "m'sorry I left like tha'. Should'nt 've spoken to ya that way,"

She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's okay, Harry, you're back home now. C'mon, let's get you changed and then let's sleep."

He bobbed his head up and down, willingly letting her drag him up the stairs to their shared bedroom, "Love ya,” Camille helped him out of his trousers.

She smiled softly, "Love you too, mon Cheri,” He giggled drunkenly at the showcase of her accent.

___

Harry woke up with a pounding headache, whining as his alarm rang at eight am in the morning. He opened his eyes to see that Camille wasn't in bed with him. His lips fell into a pout because of waking up alone.

There was a note on the bedside table.

'got called in for an emergency meeting for the show next week. be home by 5pm. love you!'

He sighed and reached for the glass of water she had left him. His brows furrowed when he didn't see Ibuprofen next to the water. Y/N left him ibuprofen beside the glass of water. Always. Harry snapped himself out of his daze, reprimanding himself for even thinking about her. Why is he thinking about her?

__

After a hot shower, Harry made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast. 'Eggs and toast', he thought. Placing 2 eggs in water and setting it on the stove before loading the toaster. He looked mindlessly through the drinks in the fridge, settling on 'Organic Orange Juice'. Y/N had introduced him to this particular brand after he had complained that all the others had too much sugar to be 'healthy'.

___

"This has no added sugar, H," she mentioned, "They sweeten it with honey."

___

Harry groaned, snapping himself out of the daydream, ashamed for thinking about his ex. Again.

He placed his breakfast on a plate and poured himself a glass of juice, sitting at the dining table alone. He chewed slowly with a mouthful as he unlocked his phone, beginning to go through his notifications.

Camille sent him a text. It was a selfie of her at her meeting, smiling and holding up a peace sign. He mirrored the expression, sending a text back

Harry: "stop being so cute"

He clicked the ‘back’ icon.

The second he does, his heart positively skips a beat. Not in a good way, either. Y/N's contact was just below Camille's, suddenly remembering the nasty things he had texted her the previous night.

"Fuck," He whispered under his breath, opening her contact. 'Read' was plastered under the messages he had sent. Y/N had seen them.

__

Connor had left a few hours later because he had morning rounds at the clinic the next day. Y/N had bid him goodbye with a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth,

“Thanks for coming, C,"

He smiled and pulled her into an embrace "Anytime, angel," into her hair. A warmth spread through her chest--one that she hadn’t felt in a long while.

After Connor drove off (with a final wave from his car window, of course), Y/N walked back in to settle on her couch again. Halo kicked a few times as she sat down, making Y/N squirm and giggle.

"Hi, you little goose! What's got you all excited, hm?" She rubbed over the area where Y/N felt the kick. As if, in response to her mother's voice, baby Halo kicked out again, right where Y/N's palm was. "Are you trying to high-five me, precious girl?"

Y/N cooed at her swelling tummy, a huge smile plastered across her face. "Or are ya just excited about Connor coming over to spend time with us? Got a good feeling about him, have you?"

She feels a gentle kick, it was almost as if the baby in her tummy wanted to say 'yes'. Y/N hummed softly, caressing her tummy, "Me too, angel. I've got a good feeling about him, too."

__

A few minutes later, Y/N reboots her phone her previously switched off phone so that she could see if Connor had texted her. He had.

C: Thanks for letting me spend time with you and Halo tonight. I loved it. I have a  bit of time off on Sunday, do you want to get Pizza?'

Her eyes gleamed, but she hesitated for just a second. Connor had texted her. But so had Harry. He had sent her five messages, and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to see what he had to say.

She wanted to make sure before texting Connor back. Y/N was not sure what she was expecting or hoping for, but what she saw was certainly not it.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*',

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet you did

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck you'

She felt tears stinging her eyes, cursing at the pregnancy hormones that have gotten her feeling this emotional about drunk texts from her ex. Her body ignited with fury quicker than she realized she could. Y/N doesn't hesitate to click the 'block' button to his contact.

She didn't need a man like him around her or her baby. Or her potential boyfriend.

Y/N: 'Hiya!,'

'it was great having you over, and I'd love to hang out! Down for pizza anytime. Halo loves it too :P'

The reply was instantaneous

C: 'Great!'

'See you Sunday, then! What are your favourite toppings?"

Y/N smiled brightly, finding his curiosity incredibly endearing. She typed back a response, gleaming with joy at the fact that she finally had someone she could rely on.

___

"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck," Harry repeated, clicking the call button to Y/N's contact. He needed to apologize. Desperately. He needed her to know that he didn't mean any of those things; he was just drunk. Not that that was an excuse.

'The number you are trying to reach is not in service', an automated voice said.

Harry groaned in frustration, opening her message contact, typing out;

Harry: "I'm so sorry, I don't know what had gotten into me. I was drunk. I'm very sorry, Y/N xx H."

He took a bite out of his toast before looking back at his screen to see if she had read the message yet. He almost wished he hadn't. Harry’s heart plummeted. His chest constricted as tears stung at the back of his eyes. Throwing up the meal he just scarfed sounded like an option right now.

A flaming red exclamation mark met his startled glance, and his chest heaved as he read,

'Not delivered,'

___

As usual, let us know what you thought!

Reign aka pt3 is already up on Patreon (link in bio!)

Reign will be uploaded on Tumblr on Monday, August 31. ___

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[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 14: Husband

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“Yeah, you should stay here. We have a wedding to plan tomorrow after all.”

“What?” You say in shock, following after Kita who already is in the house.

The house is exactly the same way when you left. The furniture are still where it used to be. Only difference is that, you aren’t around anymore. Your things aren’t there anymore. Everything in the house is only Kita’s things. The house has developed a widower’s feel while you were gone.

Passing by your room, the feeling of familiarity hits you. You stop yourself from crying, not wanting to cause any more trouble to Kita who you woke up at ungodly hour. As you reach the kitchen, the smell of alcohol reaches your nose. ‘Has he been drinking?’

“I can sleep in my old room...” You tell Kita, stopping in your tracks. Rice is already on the couch, sleeping comfortably on his old spot.

“There’s no more bed there now, you know. Did you forget that you made Osamu take all your things?” Kita reminds you as he eyes you while he continues to walk to his room. Not able to form an answer, you follow him.

Kita takes out a shirt and boxer shorts out of his cabinet and gives it you before he flops back down in his bed. You go to his bathroom and change into his clothes. It’s your first time wearing his clothing and the experience makes you forget everything you’ve been through for the past year. You’re going through that ‘i-am-a-grown-woman-but-i-feel-like-teenage-girl’ phase all over again and because of the same person.

After washing your face, you go back to his room. "Is he drunk?” You wonder as you stare at his sleeping figure. The urge to touch him is taking over you so you let it. Your fingers run through his grey hair, then to his shoulder. They stop on his chest to feel his heart beat. “I miss you...”

Shutting your eyes, you feel your heart ache and ease at the same time. You don’t know if Kita was bluffing or if he was serious about what he said, but you were. You meant every word that you said even if it was just a ramble. You were willing to marry him anytime of the day.

Morning comes and Kita wakes up first, his chest feeling heavy. He looks down and sees your head on his chest, your arm draped over his hips. His eyes squint in confusion. “That wasn’t a dream?” Kita puts the back of his hand on your forehead, making sure you are real and not a hallucination. “You’re really back...” A tear escapes his eye as he caresses your hair.

Kita moves to lay down on his side, letting your head settle on his arm. His eyes travel all over your body, taking all your features in. He silently starts crying, thanking all the stars he wished on, and every god he prayed to. He can’t believe you actually came back.

For a year, Kita tried to get a hold of you but you blocked his number. He even went to Tokyo to explain to you but he didn’t know where to find you. He never gave up on you, thus him being single again for another year. He never felt any interest towards anyone. He lived in chastity to prove to you that he really wanted you back and he was sorry.

The exact opposite of what you were doing. But he won’t be affected if he finds out, right?

Not wanting you to see him cry, he tries to leave the bed, but you hold onto him tightly. “I have to make breakfast,” he reasons, but you just press your face close to his chest.

“You can eat me for breakfast,” you joke, eyes still closed. You feel Kita stiffen from your words before he slowly pinches your arm. You jokingly wince before letting out a chuckle. “Five more minutes of cuddling then I’ll let you cook breakfast.”

“Okay...” Kita kisses your forehead, wrapping his arms around your torso. The two of you stay like that in silence, the quiet you’ve been wanting for a long time. It’s safe to say that Kita is your rest, your charging station, and your battery has been drained. You haven’t seen him for one painful year after all.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” You ask Kita, but he doesn’t answer you so you assume that he was really drunk last night. “Never mind...”

“If you’re asking about the wedding, I’m still thinking of how to propose to you,” Kita confesses, causing you to grin. You sit up, your face hovering over his.

Kita takes in your appearance and notices how you look more mature because of your haircut. Aside from your now shorter locks, he realizes that the way you speak is different from before. You have a much softer and calmer way of talking now.

“But I already proposed to you last night,” you tell him, causing him to cock an eyebrow at you. “So let’s just talk about the wedding or something.”

“Why are you so eager to get married?” Kita asks you seriously so you pout in disappointment. You were so excited from his words last night that you even dreamt about your wedding.

“I just don’t want to lose you again,” you answer, lying back on the bed. Kita moves closer to your body, snuggling his face to your chest.

“We will never lose each other ever again. I promise you that.” Kita kisses you before placing his head back on your bust. Your fingers find their way to his hair, running through his grey locks. “But there are things I want to do before getting married because I might never get to do it...”

“Like what?”

“Take risks and enjoy my youth,” Kita responds. “I don’t regret doing everything by the rules, but sometimes I think about how I should have enjoyed at the same time.”

“Isn’t that regretting?” You chuckle, ruffling his hair.

“Is it?” Kita sits up, smiling at you.

You nod. “You know, even if we’re married, we can still do the things you want to do.”

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You are so wrong. 4 months have passed, and Kita and you haven’t spent much time ever you since you started preparing for your wedding. It’s mostly Kita who processes the papers and such, since you are always busy from work. You constantly had to travel from Tokyo to Osaka because of your job. The two of you decided to postpone the wedding ceremony, but still get married in papers.

“Babe, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but maybe we should try renovating the house?” You suggest as the two of you eat dinner.

“Sure. I don’t mind,” Kita agrees to your request.

Kita always does. He says yes to everything you want to do. Sometimes you ask him about his opinions, but he just agrees with you. He puts your feelings first before his, that there are times you feel bad about it. You’ve talked to him about it and he said that his grandmother had once told him that if he was to marry he should live by these words.

“What’s hers is hers, and what’s yours is hers.”

Kita doesn’t only apply those words in belongings, but also words. He puts you first no matter what. Basically, Kita worships you. It isn’t obsessive as most will think.

What’s stressing you is that, everyone advised you that “marriage is full of ups and downs.” But your marriage with Kita is a straight unbending 180° line. The two of you even haven’t had sex, much to your disappointment. You don’t know if it’s your busy schedule or Kita’s platonic personality that is causing this linear marriage.

“I plan to add more rooms and maybe a second floor? In case we have children,” You say your idea, taking Kita aback from the word children. He chokes on his food, so you tilt your head to the side in worry. “Do you not want children?”

Kita clears his throat before answering you. “I do. But do you?”

“I wouldn’t bring up the topic of children if I don’t,” you reply proudly and he just shakes his head. “What?”

“(Y/N), you cry when I don’t give you attention for 5 minutes. If we have a kid, I will have divided attention. Are you sure?” Kita tells you, so you start thinking about it.

“When have I cried when you didn’t give me attention?” You ask, not believing his words.

Kita deadpans at you. “Last night.”

“But I still want to have children with you!” You whine and Kita shakes his head once again. “Like my Pinterest feed is full of babies. I’m ready to be a mom!”

“I think it’s too early to think and talk about children.”

“It’s not. Please! I want a baby!”

“That’s only a baby fever. We can have one when you’re actually ready to have one.”

“But-”

“I said what I said. Let’s drop the subject,” Kita says sternly so you just pout and obey him. It’s his first time saying no to your words and you feel so hurt. You have gotten used to him babying you that you forgot how scary he could be. Hurt is an understatement of what to feel at the moment. It sounded like he doubted your readiness as a mother. How does he know about your own capabilities?

The dinner continues awkwardly, Rice staring at the two of you from the corner, probably wondering why you two are quiet. Your phone starts ringing so you check who it is and see Kise’s name shining brightly. You gulp, glancing at Kita who is staring at you with eyes asking who’s calling you.

“Kise!” You fake a chuckle, moving to your room. Kita eyes you suspiciously, wondering why you had to go inside the room just to talk to someone. “Why did you call?”

“I had a flight going to Osaka, and then I remembered you’re near Osaka, right? Wanna go out and have some drinks?”  Kise asks. Not having the heart to say no to the pure soul, you say yes. You change into semi casual clothes and then head out of your room.

“Where are you going?” Kita questions, surprised to see you all dressed up.

“A friend from Tokyo invited me to drink. Do you wanna go with us?” You smile at him awkwardly, forgetting that he’s around. You even forgot that you were in the middle of dinner.

“I’ll stay at home,” Kita replies, putting his chopsticks down.

“Can you drive me to our meeting place?” You request and he nods. He takes the car key from the drawer and heads out before you, Rice following behind him.

Kita opens the door for Rice, letting him sit at the backseat. Then, he opens the door for you, hand on the upper doorway so you don’t bump your head. He puts your seatbelt on for you as well, before giving you a soft kiss on top of your head. It’s the little things that make you fall in love with him over and over again.

In the middle of the drive, Kita speaks up. “I’m sorry for being rude to you a while ago. I know you wanted to talk more about it.”

“It’s fine...” you lower your head, not wanting Kita to see the sad look on your face.

“I’m just worried that you won’t get to enjoy like this if you become a mother. You won’t be able to meet your friends often, you wouldn’t be able to travel as much as now. It’ll be hard for you to give all of these just for motherhood. Let’s enjoy ourselves first, then maybe in the future, we can have an addition to our little family,” Kita explains his side to you, his soft voice soothing the pain you felt. He takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of it, his eyes on the road.

“I love you,” is all you can say, because he’s right. You aren’t ready to give up the life you’re living right now.

“I love you more,” Kita replies, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The rest of ride is silent, since Rice is also asleep at the backseat. You arrive in front of the pub which Kise gave you the address of. “Rice and I will go visit Osamu. Just call me when you want to be picked up.”

“Yes, babe. Thank you,” you thank Kita, giving him a peck on his lips. “You’re the best.”

“Have fun.” Kita gives you a proper kiss before he lets you get out of the car. As he sees you safely enter the pub, he drives off to Osamu’s place. Arriving at his house, he notices his former teammate’s cars parked outside. “They’re all really here.”

Kita and Rice get out of the car, then head up to Osamu’s apartment. He presses the door bell and a few seconds later, Atsumu opens the door. “Oh! Kita’s here! Mr. Married is here!” The blonde shouts and the people inside the house cheers. Rice runs inside the house, greeting familiar people with a lick on their faces.

“I thought you couldn’t come, Shinsuke?” Aran asks the former captain. Kita sits beside him on the couch, Rice jumping to sit on his lap.

“(Y/N) went out with a friend so I was able to come here,” Kita explains.

The truth is, the Inarizaki Volleyball Club is holding a reunion. Kita, as the captain, is of course invited. But the day before, he said he couldn’t come because he didn’t want to leave you alone in your house. He also couldn’t bring you along since Atsumu whined about not bringing partners because he doesn’t have one. So he rejected the invitation, but here he is.

“Want a drink?” Omimi asks Kita and the latter shakes his head.

“No. I got to drive,” Kita reasons, petting Rice to sleep.

Two hours later, Kita receives a call from you, so he assumes that you wanted to be picked up. “I have to go. (Y/N)’s calling.”

“Simp,” Atsumu teases him so Kita flicks his forehead before heading out of Osamu’s place and driving to the pub where he dropped you off.

Kita calls you, not seeing you wait for him outside. He has told you a lot of times not to make him wait if you asked to be picked up. “Where are you? I’m already outside.”

“Babe, I called you a while ago because my friend offered to drive me home. He ordered more drinks and food so...” You reply and Kita immediately feels angry from hearing that you’re drinking with a guy, and just the two of you. How the hell is this guy friend of yours supposed to drive you home when you’re both under the influence of alcohol?

“No. Let’s go home. Right now.” Kita says in a demanding voice and he hears you groan from the other line. A couple of minutes later, he sees you walk out of the pub with Kise. Being the friendly and flirty guy he is, Kise does a quick cheek to cheek with you before letting you leave him. It fuels Kita’s irritation even more.

Kita is a jealous man, he admits that and he won’t even hide it.

“Who was that?” Kita asks as soon as you enter the car.

“I told you. A friend from Tokyo,” you answered, annoyance lingering from your tone.

Kita drives back to your house really fast. The ride back home actually scared you a little bit, since Kita wasn’t paying attention to the road signs and stoplights. He is as angry as you are.

As you enter the house, Kita slams the door close, startling you. “I’m gonna ask you again. Who was that?” You roll your eyes and ignore him, annoying Kita even more. “(Y/N), you’re a married woman. You shouldn’t drink like that alone with other guys.”

“And why is that?” You cock an eyebrow at him and he sighs heavily.

“It’s because I feel uncomfortable,” Kita answers you straightforwardly, his response making you scoff.

“You feel uncomfortable because I was with a friend? Is this because of jealousy?” You snap, testing the waters. Kita bites his lower lip, controlling his anger. “You know, just because we’re married, it doesn’t mean that you get to control my life.”

Your words hit Kita like a train traveling at a high speed. While he dedicates his whole life to you, and then there you are, acting as if marriage is just dating. He feels so stupid doing everything for you, and you’re not even giving half the effort.

Ever since you got married, Kita does everything to make life easier for you. He cooks you breakfast, lunch and dinner every single day. He doesn’t put up a fight with you because he knows how much stress you get from work. He cancels plans with friends just so he could spend time with you since you barely had free time. He doesn’t even ask for attention from even if he’s dying to take you out on a date, because he knows you prioritize your work instead of him. You wouldn’t even free your schedule for you wedding ceremony.

Of course you don’t notice Kita’s pent up frustration because you think that’s just who he is. But no, he tries so hard to be the best husband to you but you’re not even trying to be a wife to him.

But today is when his patience runs thin. First, you leave him to eat alone in the middle of dinner. Second, you suddenly say you’re leaving and drinking out with a friend. Third, you allow this friend to be touchy and too friendly with you.

“You know what, (Y/N), I don’t think this is jealousy anymore. As a husband, I feel so disrespected, but I don’t think you know that because you don’t see me as one.”

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Facts:

When asked what marriage means to them, Japanese university students tend to use words like “respect, acceptance” and “caring, help and being there” while American university students tended to use words like “important, essential” and “unconditional."

Ordinary Japanese rarely had their marriages formalized or had any kind of wedding or ceremony. Traditionally, once a man began regularly visiting a woman the were considered married. Later when the man's mother considered herself no longer able to do her household chores by herself she asked her son's "wife" to move in. This occasion was often accompanied by a small party to introduce her to the neighbors.

The Democratic Party of Japan government elected in August 2009 wanted to introduce legislation that allowed married couples to use separate surnames.

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[ddarker-dreams]

I was missing sr!reader and was wondering what her favorite drinks are, if she drinks. If she's from the US i'm wondering how her drinking habits are and if she's more choosy with her wine since she is in Italy now.

(I SAW THIS AND IT REMINDED ME TO RESPOND TO ANOTHER SR ASK— thank you for popping up anon <33 i’ve been missing sr reader and her shenanigans with the gang too so this was perfect timing) 

At first, SR Reader would be very ?? HUH over the casual drinking culture in Italy. It wasn’t that big of an issue when it was just her, Bruno, and Fugo. However, when Abbacchio showed up, man was breaking out the entire bottle while she was still eating her breakfast. Was very much at a loss over the entire thing. She’d seen Bruno nursing a small glass of wine here and there, but after witnessing Abbacchio, was ready to sign him up for an alcohol anonymous meeting. 

As for the drinks she’d like... it all depends at what point of the timeline it is. Towards the start, SR Reader is dead broke and has no extra funds for fancy drinks 😭 however, when she’s able to afford it (aka once Giorno expunges her debts), she’d probably favor light fruity drinks. Her and Narancia love the little umbrellas you can get with those special drinks. Fugo has to confiscate them because she keeps trying to bring them home. It’d be smth like,

“But it’s so cute!” 

“It serves no practical purpose. Hand it over.”

anon 2 asked: SR Ask: On one of the tags you said that everyone comforts reader in their own way, and it made me curious... how would the gang comfort reader? I could see some of them having trouble with having a heart to heart conversation either due to how closed off their personalities are, or how their carefree attitude might make their words not land that well. Also, you wouldn't mind if I make more SR asks in the future? Thanks in advance!

(please feel free, i always love SR asks!! i’m sorry for how late of a response this is htjegkrmw)

Bruno is an obvious go to candidate for all things. He’s earnest and listens well, just overall a nice and soothing presence. You can tell him anything and never feel judged. If it’s something he can help with, expect full well that he will, no matter how difficult it may be. That’s just Bruno’s nature, he wants to help those he cares about! If it’s something that can’t be “fixed” he’ll let you know in a very serious tone that you’re never alone, that it’s okay to rely on him, stuff like that. You’ll always leave conversations with Bruno feeling better. <33

Fugo is a bit of a hit or miss. He cares, he really does, but being in touch with emotions is not his thing. You’ll need to extend a little grace to him because he’s trying, and you’re basically one of the only people he’d try so hard for (he’s head over heels okay). He doesn’t coddle you — which might not be initially well-received depending on what the problem is — though you can appreciate it once you’re in a better state of mind. Fugo will probably make you laugh on accident with an awkward comment lmao. He also gives somewhat stiff hugs, but for some reason it’s super endearing. Pats your back like twice in this super deliberate way and it makes you giggle.

NARANCIA... you two vibe together okay. You’re his vibe girlfriend. He’s unexpectedly perceptive to any shifts in your mood, though he doesn’t have a lot of tact about it. If it’s a person bothering you, he WILL offer to beat them up, and not even in a joking way. You’d have to physically stop him. He’s really good at validating your feelings though. If you recount an annoying experience, he’ll be there nodding his head going YEAH that sounds so stupid what a pain. Can’t believe you had to deal with that. He’s so sweet UGH

Abbacchio... hm, well. He’s definitely more of the listening type. He might have a hard time reaching out — he’ll 100% notice something is wrong but might not say anything right away — but it’s a different story if you go directly to him. You can tell he’s experienced with a lot of things, so it’s comforting in a way, when he’s sitting there listening intently. Similar to Fugo, he won’t coddle you, but that’s just because he knows you’re mature enough to handle the truth. The respect he holds for you is not to be taken lightly. He won’t overwhelm you with advice unless you ask for some.

Mista is the person to go to if you want to be cheered up. Seriously, he’s fun to hang out with, you treasure every second. His way of cheering you up is taking your mind off of whatever is troubling you and goofing off together. It helps that Pistols have a natural ability to make you laugh with their antics. He’s grateful for once over his gremlin-like Stand if it means he gets to see your super cute smile again <333 if it’s something more serious, you’re still in good hands. He perfectly mixes in a tasteful amount of lighthearted humor and serious advice depending. (As a bonus, Pistols try cheering you up by bringing you snacks... SO CUTE... 😭)

Giorno is another person with a very calm presence. You can be relaying some heavy stuff onto him, and he’s unfazed, still engaging and following along patiently. He’s the type to listen without interruption, aside from a few questions to clarify things, but lets you get it off your chest for the most part first. Giorno will then help you work through why you feel that way, what could be done about it, stuff like that. It might seem almost borderline clinical, but he still cares very much!! It’s because he cares that he wants to get to the root of the problem so it never comes back. You can rest well knowing Giorno will do literally everything within his power to help. 

Trish will almost be... maybe not excited, but definitely very eager to help. You’ve been there for her in the past, now she gets to return the favor! She’d be the type to suggest easygoing activities to take your mind off things. Shopping trips, a spa at home day, watching your favorite movies/shows, etc. Trish is kind of like Narancia where she’ll actively empathize with a lot of your frustrations. You should know that if any person was bothering you, Trish is ready to hold a live improv roasting session. You’ll both be verbally destroying that person’s ego from afar. 

[seaweedbrain404]

Wolfstar Au! : We Can’t Let the Kid Down, Now Can We?

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The flight from London to Athens wasn’t worth it and the flight back was even less worth it. Remus cursed himself for being so silly to think that Teddy’s mother would want anything to do with the boy, and even sillier to believe her when she said she would love for them to visit but couldn’t leave Athens because of work related reasons.

Remus should’ve asked her to elaborate these “reasons” but he didn’t and so, he and Teddy got to Athens for the weekend, she spent about an hour with them before leaving to go to a party. They didn’t see her again until three hours before they had to leave for the airport. He regretted this whole thing. Everything that happened to Remus up until that point, he regretted. Well, that was a lie. It wasn’t fair to Teddy. Remus didn’t regret Teddy. Sure, he hadn’t planned on becoming a father at 20 while in college but shit happens and Teddy was a wonderful kid (most of the time).

Understandably, Remus was annoyed and Teddy was upset. Everything was fine though, Remus had given him the window seat while he took the middle and hoped whichever fucker got landed with the aisle wasn’t an asshole because Teddy was at the age where he peed a lot. Like all the time and drank so much juice, which was probably the cause.

Remus had given Teddy a picture book for the trip. He already started making up his own story about what was happening to each character in each picture with alarmingly detailed backstories and of course, telling Remus every single bit of it when a man took the aisle seat.

“.....but Sammy doesn’t like her because she took the last cookie…..” Teddy went on, not noticing that Remus’ attention was elsewhere.

The man who sat down next to him was downright gorgeous. His dark hair was tied back in a loose bun with a pair of sunglasses resting atop his head. He was sporting a nice tan and wore clothes that looked more expensive than anything Remus could ever hope to own in his entire life. His cheekbones were sharp, almost royal looking. It made Remus feel slightly self conscious about his own sunburnt nose, freckled skin, limbs that didn’t quite fit and t-shirt that was so old and probably dirty because Teddy always had to wipe his hands on him.

That’s when it all went downhill. Teddy didn’t appreciate the takeoff the first time around and he sure as hell didn’t appreciate it now. The 4-year-old started crying as soon as the plane began moving.

Everyone seemed to look for the source of the noise and when their eyes landed on Remus and his son, they sighed or rolled their eyes or looked pitifully at the pair. With sudden horror, as he put his arm around Teddy to try to comfort him until they were safely allowed to undo their seatbelts so he could put him on his lap, Remus realised he was the annoyed guy with the wailing kid on the plane. The enchanting mam next to him, was unlucky enough to be seated next to that guy.

He felt a deep rise of panic and shame in his belly. “Shhh… Teds, it’s okay, we’ll be flying properly soon” he tried to push his own feelings aside in order to comfort Teddy.

It wasn’t working. Teddy kept crying and the handsome stranger had plugged earphones in his ears. Good, Remus thought, at least now it’s one less person to see me fail at being a father.

“Too loud!” Teddy cried, covering his ears with his hands then taking Remus’ hands and covering his ears with those.

He continued crying and this would continue to stress Remus out until they were high enough and stable enough that the seatbelt light flashed off. When they eventually did, and Remus was sure there would be no turbulence, he undid Teddy’s belt and brought him up onto his lap.

It was almost comically funny how Teddy stopped crying immediately. The moment he made contact with Remus, head tucked into his dad’s chest, he was reduced to sniffles.

“Why don’t you go night-night for a mo’ yeah?” Remus asked softly, as he rubbed circles on Teddy’s back.

The 4-year-old sniffled and looked up at Remus with great big watery eyes. “Daddy? Can we go to nana and granda’s when we go home?”

“Of course we can” Remus whispered into his son’s hair.

“That lady- you said was mummy, I don’t think she wants to be my mummy”

Remus had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying too. Teddy was only 4 but ever so perceptive and Remus regretted more than ever trusting Teddy’s mother.

“But it’s ‘kay, I gots you daddy” Teddy carried on, wiping his nose on Remus’ tshirt and giggling to himself. “You have my buggers on you now”

“Go to sleep now Teds, yeah?”

Teddy nodded, pushing his head further into Remus’ chest. His small hands were clinging tightly onto his father, as if he was afraid to let go. Remus was also holding onto Teddy for dear life. He was, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to Remus.

Clearly just as exhausted as Teddy, Remus closed his eyes for about five seconds before he felt someone tapping his shoulder. He jolted awake, feeling the heavy lump on his lap move slightly before he registered his surroundings.

It was the man from earlier. He had been the one to wake up Remus and by the looks of it, Teddy had been awake from quite some time. It took Remus a moment to realised the man had said something, his brain still swirling with sleep.

“Sorry- what?” He managed dumbly.

The man just smiled. “I said, your kid needs the bathroom” he pointed to Teddy, who looked decidedly more cheerful now that he had slept a bit.

“Oh- right, thanks- thank you” Remus’ eyes went from Teddy back to man. He smiled sheepishly as the other got up to leave Remus and Teddy out.

After returning from the bathroom trip, Teddy still didn’t want to be seated alone and remained firmly attached to Remus. Currently, he was sitting on his lap with a colouring book and a six-pack of crayons to keep him entertained.

“I’m sorry if he gave you any trouble” Remus said suddenly, after coming to the realization that Teddy had probably woken up and started bothering the other man.

He just shook his head, letting out a chuckle. “No, don’t worry about it, I’ve got a niece and a godson so I’m pretty used to kids”

“Still, he can be a bit much, he likes dinosaurs so I hope he didn’t talk your ear off”

“What? No, he really is a brilliant kid” He smiled warmly, then looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “I’m Sirius, by the way”

“Remus”

“I know, kid kinda sold ya out”

Of course. Trust Teddy to sell you out to people who you think look ridiculously handsome and that you definitely wouldn’t mind snogging.

“Oh god” Remus dragged his hand over his face, I’m scared to ask what else he said”

“Nothing bad, I promise but…” Sirius pursed his lips then spoke in a lower voice, “I hope you don’t mind me asking- I mean it’s just cause of what he said but why were you in Greece?”

Remus’ shoulders tensed, readying himself for a fight. He had to remind himself he wasn’t 17 anymore, he wasn’t just a queer schoolboy from a small town in Wales with nothing to lose. He was a dad now.

“We went to visit Teddy’s mum” came his soft reply and he continued despite himself, “it wasn’t a good idea though”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it… it’s complicated”

“Oh” Sirius looked a little crestfallen, he shook his head and his smile reappeared. “Are you Wesh?”

Taken aback the the question, Remus blinked at Sirius and nodded. He almost got whiplash from how fast Sirius changed the topic.

“Mm, figured”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your accent” Sirius said, as if that explained everything but upon seeing the look on Remus’ face, he elaborated. “My parents had a sort of holiday home there, they’re filthy rich- my parents, too bad they disowned me for liking men”

Maybe it was the way Sirius said it, with such lightness that made Remus’ head spin. Or maybe it was that he would’ve never been able to joke around about his own troubles or even so casually say it in conversation. He kind of admired Sirius for it, it must take a lot of bravely to be this open about something like that in front of a random guy you’ve met on the plane.

“Oh- I’m sorry about that, that your parents did that” Remus managed once he recovered from his initial shock. “It’s an awful thing to do”

Sirius just shrugged, flashing another smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes like the previous ones. “Eh, it’s all good, all in the past y’know”

Remus opened his mouth but before he could speak, Teddy piped up. “Daddy, I like Sirius, I think you and him should hold hands and kiss”

Obviously Teddy is going to come out with something as embarrassing as that. Remus felt his entire face flush red as he tried to scramble for some way to apologize when Sirius held up his hand to stop him.

“No, I should probably take your daddy out on a date before we do that Teddy” Sirius said in a tone so serious, one might’ve thought he wasn’t joking. “What do you say bud? Am I allowed?”

Teddy nodded his head vigorously. “Yes! but we have to go to nana and granda’s first, then you can take him on a date”

Sirius aimed yet another smile at Remus, “What do you say? We can’t let the kid down now, can we?”

“Yeah, ‘suppose we can’t” He replied breathlessly.

A lot of things went through Remus’ head at that moment and for the rest of the flight. He mulled over whether he had made the right decision or not but when he saw Teddy chatting away happily to Sirius, he figured it was worth a shot.

[runin-reads]

❛ s o l a r s y s t e m ❜

— hinata harem drabbles and reader insert

SYNOPSIS: my thoughts on various hinata ships, plus my take on what it would be like to marry the sunshine himself.

PAIRINGS: kenhina, kagehina, atsuhina, oihina, hoshihina, tsukkihina, hinata x reader.

A/N: I would add wayyy more ships but I didn’t want this to be too long. I may add a part 2 depending on the feedback I get.

MANGA SPOILERS

☆ﾐ KENHINA

— the only sugar baby and sugar daddy relationship that matters

— shoyou says he likes something off-handedly only for  kenma to buy it in bulk the next day 

— “if you get boring, I’ll stop ;)” that’s it that’s the sunmary. need I say more to describe their dynamic?

— Kenma and him fight a lot to cover the bill, only for Kenma to pay for it secretly on his way to the bathroom 

— honestly just such caring boys to each other. Kenma is so intune with how Shoyou feels and will lay down just about anything to make him feel better. Shoyou brings happiness and energy to Kenya’s life and makes sure that he takes plenty of breaks from the screen, so he can rest. 

— he’s part of the pretty setter squad, what can I say.

☆ﾐ KAGEHINA 

— literal representation of yin-yang. They balance eachother out in the best way and work perfectly together

— volleyball dorks that wanna bring each other to new heights. Constantly noticing improvement (namely Hinata’s) in each other and instantly being filled with joy at the sight of it  

— like seriously. Kageyama was the first to see potential in Hinata, and was willing to put effort into drawing his talent out. Before Kageyama there was no one who would do that shit, and i honestly can’t imagine Hinata without his influence 

—romance aside, their friendship and teamwork is something we all want in life. They’re intune with the others needs and characters, they’re a POWERFOUPLE and everyone acknowledges them as one

☆ﾐ ATSUHINA

— wow, he can jump. That’s it, we wilding now 🤪

— deadass saw him play for one match and decided “ah yes. I want this one” LMAO 

— Atsumu made a promise to toss for him and actually fulfilled that oath 6 years later. King really did THAT. 

— okay but Atsumu casually staking claim over Hinata as HIS wing spiker, really brought out his protective bf side. You can just tell how much pride and trust he has in Hinata as a teammate, enough where he’ll call him HIS wing spiker at any given time.

— I just love the way Hinata encourages Atsumu and his jokes that go over everyone else’s head. 

— “Atsumu-san! I found it funny!” :D

— hinata comes thru when no one else does. We love to see it 

— Atsumu being the stressed mom friend of the jackals and Hinata either adding to the stress, or helping him out.

— hinata being one of the few people that matches Atsumu’s energy for constantly thinking of new moves/techniques for volleyball. Will stay long after practice just to work together and play the sport they love.

☆ﾐ OIHINA 

— DO NOT TELL ME THAT OIKAWA DIDN’T MAKE SEVERAL TRIPS TO RIO TO VISIT HINATA AGAIN. DO N O T.

— oihina spent several days in the honeymoon phase. Going to restaurants, building sandcastles, playing beach volleyball, taking selfies to piss old rivals off. And this is Brazil we’re talking about. They 100% went to bars and danced in the streets, drunk off of the alcohol and the feeling of being close to each other. If this doesn’t scream “forbidden summer romance, I found a piece of home away from home” energy, then idk what does.

— they met as two homesick boys that left the country to pursue their dreams. Both of them were feeling lost and had no idea where to go from there, but then they saw each other and their vigor was restored. I’ll say it again, THEY FOUND A PIECE OF HOME INSIDE EACHOTHER. THEY REMINDED EACHOTHER OF THEIR ULTIMATE GOALS AND THAT VOLLEYBALL IS A SPORT WHERE YOU HAVE FUN.

— oikawa definitely needs reminding that he is enough, that he is skilled and hardworking, and most  importantly to take care of himself. Hinata would definitely be able to provide this support to him. He is a fountain of endless praise and validation, and what makes it better is that it’s all sincere and only based on the truth. 

☆ﾐ TSUKKIHINA

— Tsukki would fucking punch himself before catching feelings for Hinata. Which is what makes this ship even funnier.

— it’s just Tsukki back at it again with his salty inner-monologue to himself and denying his feelings, only for Hinata to waltz right in and change his view of everything 

— the type of couple to be arguing and all up in each others faces, only to be like “holy shit he’s close,” and be reduced to a blushing mess

— when Hinata actually sasses back yall better be behind Tsukki to catch him as he burns. This man will either clap right back or short circuit from the shock alone. 

— he probably develops a hunch from holding hinata's hand all the time and crouching down to give a hug. Mans looking like Quasimodo but it’s okay, he’s in love.

☆ﾐ HOSHIHINA

— not really a fav ship of mine, but I gotta give appreciation where appreciation is due

— they’re so alike yet so different in so many ways 

— I just love how they’ve finally found someone to relate to, someone who knows exactly what it’s like to be underestimated at first, only to completely soar through their expectations in order to reach higher heights 

— they’re a great reference to each other, and they clearly love seeing the other improve and try out different things. They have a deep respect and sense of rivalry, and they most definitely are the dumbest-and-dumbest couple that can’t figure out shit outside of volleyball 

— they compete over the pettiest shit. Will race each other to get into the shower first, or put on their seatbelts. Chaotic energy can be sensed from miles away. Can’t be left alone to do anything without the building collapsing smh.

☆ﾐ HINATA X READER 

— ngl you got the entire volleyball scene jealous 

— like you managed to snag the most versatile and sought after player in the whole of Japan. You really did THAT.

— Shoyou is definitely the type to give you a one-handed hug and a kiss to the forehead every time he has to leave for something 

— will sling an arm around you from behind and ask you about your day. Asks you quick fire questions like, “have you eaten yet?” “Have you drank water?” And is overall a super attentive lover 

— “hey, I’m Shoyou Hinata and this is my spouse!” Cue the blinding grin that’s brighter than the sun 

— Like they do for Hinata, players like Hoshiumi and Ushijima address you by your full name, and you and your husband find it hilarious. 

— “OI HINATA” - kageyama 

— the both of you turn around 

— all chaos ensues

— I feel like Shoyou wouldn’t be the type to flirt with you at first, he’d just be really upfront with it. Will dead ass head straight towards you after practice or something, and say, “hey! Wanna go back to my place after this?” 

— he’d say this with the BRIGHTEST SMILE, and I bet he’d blush a lot too

— he would still blush, even once yall are married and everything 

— everyone cries at your wedding. You don’t know if it’s tears of joy, or they’re all at a loss because they wanted Hinata all to themselves. And honestly? Same.

[bondibee]

Did you know I used to write fanfiction

Here's some 

(sfw laac stuff)

Glados tapped her nails on the arm of her chair. It had been a few months now, two months and seventeen days to be exact, and the sensation of moving her hands still hadn't quite gotten old. There was a novelty to it, having hands. It was interesting to walk around in her little human costume every now and then, even if it didn't serve any functional purpose at all. Well, that wasn't entirely true. It did serve a purpose in regard to her guest. 

It had been almost two weeks since Chell showed some humility and admitted that she needed glados in her life, and came crawling back to the safe haven of the enrichment center. 

13 days since Chell had moved in. 

Maybe she was more than a guest. She had her own room, after all. Well, more like her own apartment really. The first night she was back glados found herself harshly reminded of just how needy humans were, how they needed food and water and "a place to sleep that isn't the floor". And this one also needed privacy, the spoiled brat. So, to keep her from complaining or more importantly breaking anything else, glados had graciously given her one of the less damaged relaxation chambers to sleep in. Apparently that alone wasn't good enough for Her Royal Highness, she needed a bathroom and a lamp and fewer cameras. It took a lot of bickering and some very unappreciated threats but eventually a compromise was reached, and chell had her little apartment, and glados had an acceptable level of surveillance. 

It still felt strange. Glados flexed her hands and watched the way the black polish on her fingernails reflected the lights. Two of these nails had broken during the first proper test run of this body, during a fall down an elevator shaft. At that time she had next to no idea how to operate it, and it was all she could do to let Chell grab her around the waist and hope that they would survive the landing. 

That they would survive each other. 

She dismissed the thought before it had a chance to form. Chell wasn't anything to be feared. Yes, she was unstable, unpredictable, prone to violent outbursts, and physically much stronger than glados in this body, but that wasn't the end of the story. Glados was no longer trapped in flesh and blood, she could trade these arteries and vessels for the wires of her facility in an instant, and chell couldn't fight that. Not now, not this time. Glados knew her now. She would be prepared, the next time chell decided to try something. She would have the upper hand, and no one would get hurt. 

It did feel a little silly though, watching her sleep. 

In her sleep chell looked harmless. Just a tiny animal, fragile bone and muscle that would be so easy to throw down a pit and forget about forever. It was so much more complicated than that, of course. It always had been. Chell had to go and make everything complicated, when she came back and gave glados all these reasons to keep her alive. To keep her in the forefront of her thoughts.

She'd spared her before, in a similar situation, yet entirely different. Chell gasping for air before fading out of consciousness on the floor, a crumpled mess of bloody knuckles and matted hair that had run for too long on adrenaline and spite alone. Glados remembered watching her sleep then in the silence of peace after ridding the world of that blue menace, thinking how small she was, how defenseless, how close to death already. She could've been done with her forever, but chell had made it impossible. An unkillable pest.

Glados couldn't get a good view of her- there was one camera in chells bedroom and it was fixed toward the door, but she was there in the bottom left corner, just barely. It felt like watching a ticking bomb, waiting for the moment it would go off. Chell must have had a reason to come back, beyond the flimsy excuses she gave. 

"Because I missed you", "Because the surface world is full of headcrabs", bullshit. 

Glados knew that Chell was still bitter. Beneath the soft smiles and the calloused hands that so gently caressed her face, the heart of a killer was still beating. This calm couldn't last forever. It never had before. Glados drummed her fingers on her thigh. She wasn't afraid of Chell. She didn't know what this was. Something about how small her guest looked like this, with that piercing gaze hidden behind closed eyelids and dark hair draped over her shoulders. Something about how defenseless she was, and how she let herself be that way, even here, even now.

Glados had seen Chell sleeping up close before. Just once, and not for very long. She hadn't known what to do after she fell asleep- glados herself didn't do that, it seemed like a waste of time- so she'd slipped away, carefully removing chells arm from around her waist and shutting the door behind herself as quietly as she could. She looked even more vulnerable that time, without her clothes. 

Chell wasn't always a peaceful sleeper, though. Sometimes she woke up screaming- a sound that nearly startled glados into an error state and elicited some deeply buried primal sense of panic. Chell said she didn't remember her nightmares. Other times she stayed awake the entire night, staring at the wall or wandering around bored. Only once since she'd been back had she slept through the entire night. 

Chell wasn't moving now, but she wasn't asleep either. Glados could tell from her breathing. It wasn't any good for her to be sleep deprived all the time- she had joked with chell about the adrenaline vapor but that was actually more of an emergency protocol and they were kind of running low on it. And chell did have a job to do here, it's not like she was staying for free. So she couldn't be wandering around like a zombie all day because she couldn't sleep. Glados leaned closer to the monitor and crossed her arms. If it were any normal human it would be easy enough to force them into unconsciousness, but this was chell, and the thought of trying to make her take a pill or filling her room with sleeping gas made glados extremely nervous. She didn't want to invoke any unnecessary anger. But what else could she do…? 

Glados waited quietly. She watched the way chells breath moved her body in rhythmic waves, slow and steady. But still awake. 

*****

Chell sat up with a gasp- back straight and eyes wide in the dark. 

"It's me," glados said. Chell seemed to relax a little at that, but the tension didn't entirely leave her body. 

"... Everything okay…?" She murmured. 

"Yes, uhm…" glados paused, trying to think of a good way to phrase her request, of a good way to make chell think it was her idea. But, looking at that tired face, nothing came to mind. "...Can I sleep with you?" She asked. 

Chell blinked and furrowed her brow, as if she didn't understand the words. Her eyes flicked over glados's face. "I… uhm, yeah, I mean…" Chell shrugged, and gestured vaguely with her hand. She moved to make room for glados in bed, making some effort to straighten out the covers as she did. 

Glados felt strange, sitting on the edge of Chell's bed and taking off her shoes. She'd never done this before, actually gone to bed. It also felt strange sitting with her back to chell, even if she was currently so tired she had already settled back down on her pillow. She didn't like turning her back on her. But, she didn't do anything, not even as glados took off her blazer and set it aside. It was only when she started to pull back the covers that chell made a sound. 

"'re you gonna sleep in that…?" She half mumbled into her pillow. 

Glados looked down at herself, questioning. Did she mean her clothes? It was the same thing she always wore. "Yes?" 

Chell grumbled and very groggily sat up, reaching to rummage through the mess at the foot of her bed. It was amazing how quickly she'd managed to fill her room with useless garbage. Like the old t-shirt she thrust in Glados's direction. Aperture Science 5k and Fun Run, it read. Chell didn't even bother to look at Glados's disgruntled expression before settling back under the comforter.  

"Really?" Glados groaned. No answer. "Tch, fine…" as casually as she could, she stood up to undress. It's not like it mattered, it was nothing chell hadn't seen before, but… still. Pulling on a ratty old shirt that now smelled like sweat and… her. Glados couldn't place the feeling, but it was there, rumbling around in her chest. 

She ignored it and climbed into bed, and tried to get comfortable. There wasn't a ton of room, and glados pushed on chell's arm to make her move over. She didn't budge- a brick wall of a person in every sense. She pushed her again and this time chell swatted at her like a fly. 

"Stop," she mumbled into her pillow. 

"Move, I don't have any room."

"Tragic."

"Chell!" The big lug groaned and finally shifted her position, moving closer to the wall so glados wasn't almost falling off the bed. 

"Finally," glados grumbled. She pointedly adjusted her pillow and rested her head with a huff. Chell didn't even notice. That was probably fine, she needed her sleep after all. 

Chell slept better when glados was there. Well, there like this, as a warm body chell could touch and bother and suffocate with her stupid hair. It was pretty apparent looking at the records, that night when chell had fallen asleep by Glados's side was the one when she got the most rest. It was then when she'd actually gotten a full night's sleep, for the first time since she got back. So that's why glados had come tonight, to try to coerce her little human brain into some sort of relaxation that came from being near another human. To test a hypothesis. Or something. 

She couldn't deny that there were other reasons. 

Watching chell from afar was all well and good, keeping an eye on her from a safe distance was practical. But somehow it didn't feel the best. At times she felt too distant, too removed. She couldn't deny that she was grateful for the occasions when chell came to laze around in the central chamber, even if she was annoying, and distracting, and got dark hairs all over glados's chair. When she was nearby like that, it was different. More immediate. She was a living, breathing thing that glados could reach out and touch, bigger than her but still perfectly tangible. Comprehensible. Containable. As if glados laying beside her and gently resting her hand on chell's arm would somehow stop her from deciding she was fed up, and running away. 

Deep down, glados knew she could never try to stop her again. Not really. She didn't have it in her. Whatever part of her wanted to be here now was the same part that knew that however much they bickered, however many lunches were thrown, glados would never be able to land a finishing blow. And chell know that. Obviously she did, or she never would have come back. 

She held all the cards. Glados was essentially defenseless in the only way that mattered, and there was nothing keeping chell from taking advantage of that. Nothing at all. 

Glados tightened her grip on chell's arm ever so slightly. What was she doing here, really? Helping chell sleep, sure, but even she didn't believe that. What was it? 

As if on cue, chell stirred, and turned on her side to face glados. 

"Why did you come here…?" She asked. Her voice was different when she was tired, even deeper and more gravelly than usual. 

"Well I'm trying to sleep," glados said in the most dismissive tone she could muster. 

"Don't have your own bed…?" 

"No, I don't." 

Chell squinted at her. In the dark it was hard to make out her face, beyond the vague shadows of her eyes. "Really," she insisted. 

Glados sighed. "It looked like you were having trouble sleeping, I thought it might help if I… if you had some company." 

Chell was quiet for a while, but glados could feel her eyes on her. Eventually she yawned, and mumbled "I guess…" before settling back down.

"Hmpf." Glados would count that as a victory. "I'm doing this for your sake, so don't make me change my mind." She turned over- tugging the covers away from chell as she did- to face the edge of the bed. That was a miscalculation. She didn't like turning her back on chell. She didn't like not being able to see her. She didn't like this feeling of defenselessness, even if they were just going to sleep and Chell didn't seem to have the energy to do anything. It made her uneasy, but not in the simple way of sensing a threat. It was knowing she was in danger, but not feeling like she was.

It was trusting someone she knew she couldn't.

Glados stayed still for some time. She waited for chell to do something, but she didn't. It gave her plenty of time to wonder how the sleeping thing was supposed to work- or if she even could. She'd never done it before. It might be impossible for her. Usually when this body felt tired she would just leave it, and it would rest until she needed it again. This was a strange thing to do. And it was boring. She really hadn't thought this through. 

Eventually, something changed. An arm around her waist. A kiss on the crown of her head. 

"...What are you doing? Go to sleep," she chided.

Chell's voice was warm and quiet, if not a little hard to make out "...Isn't this something couples do?" 

Glados froze. "...Are we a couple?" 

"Are we?" 

She didn’t know what to say to that. There wasn't a clean answer. She ran through the possible outcomes of a few options but none of them were particularly good. What could she say?

Chell waited a minute or two for an answer that didn't come. After a while she conceded, "You don't have to answer that." 

Glados nodded. It wasn't like her to be at a loss for words- that was chell's job. 

She held onto her wrist when she tried to pull her arm away. Chell pulled her closer. Glados didn't know how to feel. But there was nowhere else she wanted to be.