#Life has been quite a trip in the past month or so

[typicalopposite]

wip wednesday <3

so I have been tagged by quite a few people (thank you all 🫶 @desert--moonchild @bidisasterevankinard @onthewaytosomewhere @lavenderleahy -- got bamboozled by @sunnywithachanceofbi -- @judymarch15 @marvelousbuckley @tailsbeth-writes @cafe-con-letty & @theotherbuckley ... and that's going back a month) over the span of... a time for different things... lol I have not been keeping up with the games I have been tagged in like I use to... its been a messy life! BUT I'm finally catching up by sharing (quite a bit of) not an already established wip... but a new one! you know, now that we are all collectively in our grieving/fix-it era <3 so consider yourselves -- eyes Chrissy -- tagged back!

take me back - tommy amnesia fic

Tommy cracks his eyes open, fully expecting to be met with that damned water stain on his ceiling he keeps meaning to get looked at — when the spot caves in on him he’s going to regret it — but for the past six months his mind has been on… other things. Regardless, this is not the sight he is met with, and he looks up in confusion at the garage ceiling instead. He blinks a few times before realizing that he’s laying on the cold concrete floor. It takes just a moment longer before he is overcome by a splitting headache and his vision blurs. 

“What the fuck…” he groans, forcing himself to sit up. He reaches for his head, unable to pinpoint where exactly the pain is radiating from; he feels it throughout his entire skull... it’s in his eyes, his temples, all the way down into his neck. He’s not even sure what happened. If he passed out; if he tripped… Why was he even in the garage when he was supposed to be getting ready. The room feels like it’s spinning, and he feels waves of nausea wash over him. He doubts he’ll be able to stand up unassisted, so he crawls over to his workout bench and uses it for support. 

He almost crumples back to the floor from the vertigo he gets from rising to his feet, but he holds tight to the pull bar and takes a few deep breaths until it finally subsides. He opens his eyes again, relieved his vision has cleared, and tries to take a step. His legs are wobbly but he manages to remain stable and upright as he crosses the garage and walks back into his house. 

That’s when he realizes it’s already getting dark. Shit. He was supposed to be getting ready! He goes for his phone but it’s not in his pocket, so he slowly makes his way to his room, except it’s not on the charger either— 

And his bed spread is different… 

His bed spread is—

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as the headache continues to get worse. “Fuuuck…” he drawls out, once again reaching for his head. He needs to get medicine, to find his phone, and to get out the door or he is going to be late. He can’t be late tonight. Tonight is special.

Another deep breath and he takes another step, towards the bathroom this time. He pulls the medicine cabinet door open, eyes going to the middle shelf where he keeps his ibuprofen… and finds a prescription— two prescriptions actually. He stares at the little orange bottles, both made out to him… one is acetaminophen-- and since he doesn’t have time to figure out why they are there-- he ignores the second and just takes the prescribed dose of the pain medicine and recloses the door. 

All he has to do now is to find his damn phone. 

It’s not in the kitchen, or on the coffee table, or out in his truck, or buried in the couch cushions… The last place he goes is back into the garage; lo and behold it’s there. The problem? It’s shattered. How it got shattered he doesn’t know. Possibly from his fall. 

He tries the side button and the screen lights up. It’s five thirty; he needs to go. He tries to carefully input his passcode: 5724. It doesn’t work. He tries it again. Still nothing. One more time and then another… he assumes the problem is the broken screen, but the phone disables for one minute and he doesn't have time to keep trying. Oh well, he can just leave now, and be there a little early. It’s not like it actually matters if he’s early, anyway. 

He goes back into the bathroom, looks at himself in the mirror— reels at the images looking back because, damn. His eyes are bloodshot with dark circles and his face is puffy and drained of all color as if he’s been crying. Has he been crying? He pushes the thought aside and takes out his eye drops, dropping a couple into each eye and wincing from the pain tilting his head back causes. The medicine will kick in soon, the headache will subside. He will be early… but when is extra time with his boyfriend a bad thing?

*

He parks and climbs out of his truck, the remnants of his headache finally starting to fade away. He takes the stairs two at a time once he’s inside the building, getting that giddy little pep in his step he always gets the moment he reaches Evan’s floor. He strides down the hallway, feeling light on his feet— like he’s floating on air. He reaches the door, lifts his hand and raps against the wood… once, twice, and three times. 

There’s a quiet commotion from inside, accompanied by the sounds of voices— plural, so someone else is here. Tommy tries to think about whether Evan said he had any plans prior to their date… he can’t remember. It doesn’t matter. He bounces on the balls of his feet, feeling his heart pick up in speed as footsteps get closer to the door. The lock turns, the knob twists and the door opens. 

Tommy can feel the tug of his smile spreading high up onto his cheeks. “Hey—”

“Uhm… Hi?” A voice that’s not Evan’s replies— Tommy stares at a face that is not Evan’s… A man he doesn’t recognize; dressed in comfortable clothes-- practically sleep clothes-- with tousled hair and a sated look that instantly has Tommy feeling some type of way. He tilts his head to see the number on the door, thinking maybe he came to the wrong apartment. He didn’t, and so he’s left thoroughly confused at who this stranger is and why he looks so… comfortable in his boyfriend’s home. “Tommy, right?” The guy continues. He lets his eyes travel over Tommy, like he’s studying him, keeping a careful and friendly enough smile on his face. 

“Wha- uh, I’m… sorry. Do I know you?” 

“Doubt it. But I have heard plenty about you…” The voice is suave; his tone is flat but not necessarily cold. Who the fuck even is—

“Dylan?” That is Evan’s voice… Tommy peers around this guy— around Dylan to see his boyfriend come bopping off the stairs. “Who is it— oh… T- Tommy?!” Evan’s face blanks, and his arms stall just as he was starting to slip them around this— this— Dylan’s waist. Tommy thinks he might actually be sick. Evan looks just as debauched, in his gray sweatpants and no shirt— sweat glistening over his bare chest leaves very little to be imagined of what the two were up to before he knocked. He finally truly looks at Dylan and the shirt is Evan’s… his oversized faded Nirvana band tee. Tommy has had to quickly slip it on when they have been disturbed time and time before. “What are you doing here?” Evan asks.

A sarcastic laugh bubbles its way out of Tommy and he has to take a step back from the door— from them. “W- What am I doing here?” He asks.  “What am I doing here…” he repeats. His face is starting to flush and there are tears filling his eyes no amount of blinking speed would be able to push away. He dares a look back at Evan. Wants to see if he even looks guilty; does he even look sorry? He just looks shocked, and that pisses Tommy off more. “I can't believe this...” he mutters under his breath and turns on his heels, willing his feet to get him out of this nightmare as fast as possible. 

“Tommy?” 

Ignore him. 

“T- Tommy!”

Ignore him. Forget him.

The steps are easier to get down than up; he is practically jumping the whole way down each flight. He should have known… he should have prepared better… he should have never given him that second chance… Tommy knew this thing with Evan was only going to be temporary— Evan was figuring himself out, and Tommy was more than willing to be the kind, caring, and supportive hand through the journey. But Tommy knew one day he would reach the end, he wouldn’t need the security of Tommy anymore, and Tommy was prepared to bow out gracefully. He just thought they had more time. 

But this…

This hurts so much more than he had anticipated that that would. 

“Tommy…” 

A hand grabs his shoulder and he realizes he has stopped just outside the apartment building. The cool night air is drying out the tears that have already streaked down his face. His chest feels like it’s caving in… and great, his headache is back. He shrugs Evan’s hand off of him, and starts moving towards his truck again. 

“What— Dammit Tommy! Are you seriously going to be this stubborn right now…”

That stops him. He turns and glares at Evan, taking a step towards him with seemingly enough fury Evan stops in his tracks, keeping distance between them. “Stubborn…?” Tommy chokes out. “Are you really calling me stubborn right now?”

“I- I mean… yeah! That’s how you’re acting right now!” Evan crosses his arms, having the audacity to appear angry. “You come to my apartment, had a stare down with my boyfriend, then just stormed off with no explanation!” 

Tommy feels his heart sink— hell it does more than that… it falls all the way to the floor and shatters. “B- Boyfriend…” he repeats. This has to be some kind of a prank. It has to be. “How can you stand there and look so calm about this… You—” You asshole… You lying, manipulative— “Cheater…” 

The look on Evan’s face at that word almost— not fully, but almost— surprises Tommy. So stunned; his eyes bouncing around from Tommy’s, to the ground, to the cars around them, up to the sky… before finally coming back to Tommy’s. “Ch- Cheater? Tommy.. wh- what are you talking about.” Tommy huffs out another sarcastic laugh and turns to angrily storm the rest of the way to his truck, all the while knowing Evan isn’t going to just let him. Maybe there’s even a part of him hoping Evan stops him with a viable explanation, because this… this can't be how it ends— this is going to do more than just crush him… it’s going to annihilate him. “Oh my god…” Evan groans and as Tommy suspected he would, starts after him again. “Tommy! Can you please— just this once— stop running and talk to me?” 

“Talk about what, Evan…” Tommy all but screams and, oddly enough, that seems to stop Evan in his tracks. “What do you want me to say? That I should have seen this coming… That I should have known it was too good to be true. Or maybe admit that I always knew I wouldn't be your forever, no matter how bad I wanted to be… but I sure as hell didn’t see this—” he gestures frantically at Evan then up at the apartment building. “—being how it ended.” The more he let the words spill out, the more confused Evan looked. “Or should I just come out and address the elephant in the room— the man up in your apartment you’re cheating on your boyfriend with.” 

Evan’s brows pull together, hardening his stare into something Tommy has never been on the receiving end of; it hurts to see, instead of angering him like it probably should. “I don’t know if you’re drunk… or if this is some kind of joke… but it’s not funny— it’s not fair! You— You don’t get to barge back into my life unannounced— today of all days. Then— then you accuse me of— That man up in my apartment is my boyfriend, Tommy… he has been for eight months now.” 

Tommy feels like a bomb was shoved down his throat and detonated. His entire body trembles and goes through after shocks of what Evan said. Partially from the unexpected sting of jealousy at the thought of someone being with Evan longer than he has… but mostly because of the absurdity of it all; does Evan really expect him to buy into the nonsense he’s spewing; claiming he has been in this other relationship for this long— and on their anniversary. Except Evan looks serious. 

Tommy tries to find his voice; he tries to string some words together in his head to say something back. “W- What?” is all he manages to come up with; his voice betrays him, coming out small and broken. 

Evan steps closer to him, cracks clearly forming in the cold and serious look he was just giving Tommy, making way for looks of concern, or confusion… or maybe even of sadness. “Tommy,” he says the name for the upteenth time, and Tommy feels himself flinching at his own name like it assaulted him. “Are you— Are you okay? What’s going on? Why— why are you here?” He steps closer, Tommy steps back. 

Just like that the medicine’s effect dissipates and his headache comes rushing back with a vengeance. Tommy’s vision blurs and he gasps at the return of the pain, now with a spot to single the bulk of it to. He brings his hand up to the back of his head, fingers instantly touching something wet. 

“Will you stop— dammit Tommy, stop running away from me,” Evan continues, almost in front of him now, although his voice sounds muffled and far away. Tommy stops backing up and lets his hand fall down from his head, revealing bright red blood coating his fingers. “Oh my god…” Evan gasps just as a wave of dizziness sways Tommy backwards. Two strong arms grab him, steady him… but don’t exactly hold him, and that hurts as bad as this headache. Evan is so close Tommy wouldn’t have to lean in far to capture his lips… but he can’t. Not like this. Not while everything feels so off and confusing. 

He allows Evan to help him over to his truck, but shies away from his touch the moment he is able to lean on its bed for stability. Evan pulls out his phone and dials 9-1-1. “What are you doing?” Tommy asks when his jaw is grabbed, gently but firmly, and Evan is guiding him to turn his head. He is ignored as Evan talks to the dispatcher, giving the location and a short gist of what happened, before he stops talking abruptly.

“T- Tommy… were— were you in an accident?” 

Tommy can’t help the sarcasm heavy laugh at the ridiculous question. “Don’t you think you would know if I had been,” he says coolly. 

Evan sighs. “He has a pretty big wound on the back of his head,” he tells the dispatcher, and Tommy stares at him in shock. “There are staples but it’s been reopened.” Tommy feels his skin prickling. He feels this strong sense of unease, like the floors about to fall out from under him. “Hey… look at me,” Evan says, resting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and looking in his eyes, he turns his phone’s flashlight on and scans it over each eye. “His pupils are receptive. Do— Do you know what day it is?” 

Of course that’s a logical question but given everything it is like a stab into his already ripped open chest. “It’s… November 7.” 

“Okay, good. And the year?”

“2024…”

“Okay— wait. Wh- What did you say?” Once again Evan is staring at him confused. “You said it’s 2024?” Tommy breaks his eyes away; Evan is getting that kicked puppy look and he doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to make Tommy feel bad right now. “Tommy…” Evan pries. “You— You said 2024?” 

“Yes Evan, yes! It’s November 7, 2024! It’s our six month anniversary! But I guess that means nothing to—” His voice cracks. He covers his trembling lip with the back of his hand and tries to calm himself down. 

Sirens break through the deafening silence, and an Ambulance turns into the parking lot. Evan flags it over and it comes to a stop behind Tommy’s truck. Thankfully it’s not the 118, and Tommy doesn’t recognize the paramedics that get out to help him. They check over the apparent wound on the back of his head, and start asking him questions. Questions he mostly ignores because he is focused on Evan talking to the one of them off to the side. “He— he thinks it’s 2024…” he whispers but Tommy catches it anyway. 

“What do you mean ‘I think’,” he asks past the mountain of questions the paramedic accessing him is still piling on. Evan’s mouth clamps shut and he looks over at Tommy. “You said I think it’s 2024… what the hell does that mean Evan.” 

“I- I don’t— uhm…” Evan looks helplessly at the paramedics, avoiding looking at Tommy. 

“Sir, please, just calm down. Take a deep breath. We can get everything figured out at the hospital.”

“To hell with that,” Tommy snaps— which surprises even himself, because he is usually compliant with first responders, being that he is one. “I want everything figured out now. What do you mean?” 

“Tommy…” Evan begins, takes a deep breath and sighs it out. “It’s 2025.” 

“What?”

“It— It’s 2025,” Evan reiterates.

~~~~~~~~

Sooooo 😀 trying to actually get this fix rolling because I am not going to post the whole first chapter until it’s done! Fingers crossed I don’t lose inspiration before then 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼

Throwing out a couple more tags just incase you wanna share something fixing this mess thrown on our poor sad boys or just to heal yourself, or something entirely new! 🫶

@nine-one-wanton @herrmannhalsteadproduction @30somethingautisticteacher @bangpop91 @racerchix21 @rdng1230

@somethingaboutfirefly @kinardsevan @bucksxkinard @unhingedangstaddict and anyone else who wants to share their stuff or just follow along 🫶

[dxfiedfxte]

Small Update

Look whos back from the dead It's me again for the millionth time >_> I hate update posts, but I'd rather not leave people hanging, don't want people thinking my blog and other blogs are totally dead. I'm gonna make this short since I don't like posting too much ooc In my free time, I've been trying out second part-time jobs, I've had three others so far along with my current one, just been trying to make more money so I can start saving up again so I can finally move out of my parent's house, though that will take a lot of saving with Canada's tedious housing system. Anyway, that's pretty much what I've been up to I've come to the conclusion that I cannot do two part-time jobs. I can, but it's far too exhausting and at the end of the work day, I never have the energy to do much, even socializing has been tough lately, and I don't like it when I can't socialize because I like to talk with people, but the social battery has been quite low with all this going on. The bright side though, is now I know my limits of what is too much, and what is doable. Anyway, that's it for this post. I'm still gonna rp on here, burnout happens, but I still love rp. Just gonna have to make a more organized time to be here. I hope everyone else has been doing well, and that your days and nights have been lovely.

As always, thank you all so much for your patience. It feels great coming back here after a bit, especially knowing I have people who genuinely enjoy writing with me, all of you are the reason I keep coming back. I still have so many threads I love, and so many others planned. Nothing has been dropped, and I still plan on continuing ongoing threads(Especially long ones) Gonna try a few replies later tonight since there is no work tomorrow

I appreciate every single one of you who has continued to stick around regardless of my disappearing which tends to happen often. Much love~

[pettydisco]

I'm not ready for it to be september again. I haven't done enough.

[laligraves]

a wedding in june

cult leader!joel miller x virgin fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~3.2k summary: You run from Joel on your wedding day. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), some proofreading, post-outbreak, commune/cult vibes, arranged marriage, mentions of infected/gore/violence, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, some face slapping, loss of virginity (and some pain associated to that but only a few sentences), outdoors sex, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i promise i have other ideas rattling in my brain besides dubious consent 😭 i have a whole wip chart with tons of ideas that i hope i can write

You run faster at the sound of shouts behind you. Sweat drips down your temples and fear makes your heart beat erratically, but you don’t dare stop. 

The outer gates are only a few more hundred feet away. All you need to do is get past the trees and you’ll be able to escape. You don’t have time to think about how this will be your first time venturing outside of the commune. 

Everything you were taught about the outside, about the orphaned souls and monsters that lurk, none of that matters. Not when you’re more terrified at what your future will bring.

Joel Miller. The man who in just a few months, cleared away the hundreds of infected in the nearby valley. Joel, who in the commune’s monthly hunting trips, manages to find everything from venison to medication. 

The times you’ve been close enough to Joel, to feel the heat emanating off his body, you can almost taste the violence that simmers beneath his skin. Instead of it scaring you, like it would any sane person, it excites you. 

The longing in his gaze whenever he looks at you makes you dizzy. There’s a pulse of heat between your thighs each and every time, one that will only go away after you ride your pillow until exhaustion. Whenever you face him again, after you’ve dreamed of him taking you, you wonder if he knows what you do in the privacy of your room. 

There’s no denying that he’s saved this commune from the brink of starvation. Of course everyone, including you, is grateful for the kindness of a stranger. But in the months he’s been here, their gratitude has turned into pure devotion. 

Your parents practically pushed you into his arms the moment Joel asked about you. Normally quite level headed, your parents have begun to treat Joel like a God. You thought Joel would find their insistence of marriage off putting, that he would be an honorable man and let you choose your own path in this place.  

You were wrong. 

Your parents saw it as an honor that out of all the women in the commune, Joel chose you. The books and pretty dresses he finds on his trips are only a sign of how devoted a husband he will be, at least that’s what your mother tried to tell you.  

And the times you tried to speak to Joel and get him to rethink this marriage? Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, was all he would say before he’d send you off. 

You can imagine him in your bed and fantasize about him in your dreams, but to be his wife? Especially now that he’s been chosen to lead the commune—you want nothing to do with that. 

A denser path to your right has you changing directions, wishing to throw them off your trail. You can still make it if you run through here. 

Except it’s too late. Strong arms grab and push you into the lush grass. 

“No,” you scream, “let me go!” 

“What’s wrong with you,” Joel snaps, “don’t you know what’s out there?” 

“I don’t care,” you scream out childishly, “I’d rather be out there than be with you!” 

He climbs on top of you, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pressing them above your head into the grass. He leans on your thighs to keep you still and grabs your chin with the other hand. 

“Listen to me,” he insists, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’. You know nothin’ of what life is like outside these walls.” 

He digs his fingers into your cheeks and shakes your head slightly since you refuse to look at him. 

“Joel, did you find her?” your father calls out from a distance. 

“Yeah, I got ‘er.” 

“Great, let’s go back and finish the celebration–” 

“No,” Joel calls out. 

“Joel–” 

“Leave,” Joel interrupts. 

He continues sitting on you, putting most of his weight on your trembling body. The white dress you're wearing, a satin piece that he found on their last hunting trip into the town, rides up dangerously close to your panties. 

“I need to teach you a lesson in respect, wife,” Joel growls. 

He stands and just when you think you can escape again, he yanks you up with him. Joel holds your arm tight with one hand while taking off his belt with the other. He spins you around and brings your wrists behind your back, using the belt to bind them together. 

“You wanna see what’s out there? Since you think you’re so tough?” Joel asks, not waiting for an answer and instead dragging you to the gate. “I do everything to make this place safe for you, darlin’. But this is how you repay me? Runnin’ off at the first chance you get?” 

You’re surprised at his words and the sincerity of his voice. He sounds almost… sad. 

“Practically beggin’ to be out there with those fuckers instead of me?” he continues, “The only man who can truly protect you?” 

You reach the gate and your heartbeat picks up again. You’ve never been out this far. In fact, you’re acres away from the actual commune. While the gates are secure and regularly enforced, you can’t help but feel truly terrified that something will grab you just outside these barriers.  

“I’m sorry, Joel–” 

He stops, spinning you around and landing a hard slap, slap, slap on your ass. 

“You address me as sir.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you cry out, “I learned my lesson. Let’s–let’s go back.” 

Joel ignores you, choosing instead to march you right to the gate. He keeps one hand on your arm and uses the other to maneuver the many locks and wires on the barrier door until it finally opens. 

“No, please! I said I was sorry! I wasn’t thinking!” 

He drags you out and for the first time in your life, you’ve left the commune. Despite only a metal gate separating both sides, this area seems devoid of life. 

He walks and walks until you wonder if you’ll pass out from the panic. You fall to your knees and Joel crouches right in front of you. 

“Your daddy ever tell you about the infected?” Joel whispers, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “How they’ll bite and rip into any part of your flesh.” 

“No, please,” you whimper. 

He drags a finger down your neck and over your exposed collarbones, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your nipples tighten as he glides his finger over one breast and then the other. 

“Once they’re done with you, if there’s anything left, then you become just as mindless and violent as them. Forever lost–” 

“Sir–” 

His hand tightens around your neck, cutting off your words. 

“It’s not just one, babydoll. They like to travel in hordes. Makes it easier to find their victims.” 

Your air supply thins and blood rushes to your ears. You squeeze your thighs unconsciously as the pulsing between them only grows. Joel ghosts his lips over yours and your eyes flutter closed without thinking. 

“But it’s not just them,” he whispers over your lips, “there’s non-infected out there. People who won’t think twice about hurtin’ a pretty girl like you. Killin’ ya�� just for fun.” 

You’re not sure who kisses who first. It’s not the chaste kiss the two of you shared at the altar. It’s rough and has you pressing your body close to his so you can take every swipe of his tongue or bite from his teeth. He continues holding your neck, lightly squeezing so you have no other choice than to gasp for air. 

You fall back at the push of his hand on your chest. He flips you on your side to untie his belt from your wrists. You attack the moment your hands are free, sliding your hands through his salt and pepper hair and tugging him down.

Joel hisses but returns each of your kisses and bites with his own. You hear the squawk of a crow from above and you're immediately reminded of where you are. 

“Wait, sir,” you gasp, “not here. Take me back to your–our house–” 

He drags his teeth down your neck, rubbing his beard into your soft skin and biting down. 

“Thought you’d rather be out here than with me?” he says, repeating your words from earlier.  

“No,” you whimper, trying to push him off, “not here. I–” 

He reaches your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth right over your dress. Your words are cut off and you're arching your back, trying to push more into his mouth. 

Joel makes room between your thighs and grinds down as you twist his wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His hard bulge rubs over your pussy and your whimper at the roughness.

He pinches your other nipple between two fingers then leans back to tug down the straps of your dress. Warm, summer wind glides over your now naked breasts and you shiver. 

“Look at these pretty tits,” he groans, “all mine.” 

Joel yanks the skirt of the dress over your tummy and runs a finger up and down your panty-covered pussy. You shamelessly grind down on his hand and cry out the moment he lands a harsh slap. 

“Please,” you beg with what's left of your sanity, “take me home.” 

With the same technique as before, Joel holds both wrists in one hand and uses the other to rip your panties off. You try to close your thighs from the sting of the elastic, but he’s quick to stop you. 

“Christ,” he whispers, “now ain’t that a beauty.” 

With two fingers, Joel swipes through your slick folds and brings them up to his mouth.   

“Mmm, sweet girl. Needa taste of this pussy.” 

“What do you mean—“

You try to remind Joel of just where the two of you are, but he fits his broad shoulders between your thighs and fuses his mouth to your pussy. 

You’re surprised, stunned silent by the heat of his mouth on your most intimate parts. You’re by no means ignorant of what a husband does to his wife—you’ve read enough of the romance books your mother keeps hidden in her bedside table and heard enough stories from your friends to have an idea of what happens on a wedding night. 

But never did you imagine it would feel like this. His beard and mustache only heighten the sensitivity between your thighs. The setting sun and the dense forest that surrounds the two of you should add to your terror, but Joel manages to put your attention elsewhere. 

His tongue lashes repeatedly over your clit and down to tease your entrance. You throw your head back onto the grass and stare through blurred vision at the purple sky, uncaring of where you are and of what creeps in the dark. 

He’s greedy, eating away at you like you're the last meal he’ll ever have. You’re slick and sticky, painting his face with your juices, making it easy for him to push a thick finger into your entrance. 

The stretch burns, but he calms you with a swipe of his tongue on your clit and the vibrations of his moans on your skin. 

“Your parents were right, you are a virgin,” he groans, pushing on the little piece of thin flesh that separates the rest of you. “Gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

You have no time to think about when your parents had that conversation with him. Instead, you're dumbfounded at the size of his fingers. You whine, unsure of what exactly you're asking, but nonetheless chanting more, more, more into the air. 

Joel manages to slide a second finger, curving them and pressing on something bumpy that makes you twitch and see black dots in your vision.

He stretches and scissors his fingers in your tightness, opening you up more and sucking your swollen button between his lips. Just when the heat is about to consume every inch of your body, he stops. 

“No,” you whine, trying to yank his head back to your thighs. 

Joel dodges your hands and laughs at the desperation written all over your face. He leans down, pressing his wet face to yours in a sloppy kiss, forcing you to suck on his tongue. Riding your pillow doesn’t compare to this.  

Just as before, Joel rips away and catches your wrist right when you reach for him. 

“If you woulda been a good girl, I woulda eaten this virgin pussy till mornin’,” he says while unbuttoning his jeans. “Made you ride my face and cum as many times as you wanted.” 

You barely understand how someone could ride a face, and yet you clench and gush around nothing, wanting his mouth or fingers back. You see the dark, curly hair at his base before he pulls out his length. 

“But for bein’ a brat, I’m gonna make you come on my cock instead.”

The tip is swollen and leaking a white-ish liquid that makes your mouth water at the sight. He lets go of your wrist and gently slaps your face. 

“Are you listenin’ to me, girl? I won’t fuck you if you ain’t payin’ attention.” 

“Y-yes, sir. I’m listening.” 

Joel laughs once again, noticing the dazed look in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit.” 

There’s a craving inside of you, one that has you suddenly feeling so empty, that if he doesn’t fill you with his cock you think you’ll die. You repeat the word over and over in your head. 

You’ve read it more than enough times and heard it through hushed giggles from your friends, yet the way Joel says the word, the way he squeezes and twists his hand over his cock, you finally understand what the word truly means. 

Your fingers and the handle of your hairbrush were never able to give you what you so desperately seeked. You always stopped before you went in too deep, never able to take that final push inside.

He spreads open your thighs and you lean up on your elbows to try to catch a glance at what he’s doing. You see your sticky fluids stuck on your inner thighs and over the tip of his cock. He pushes in just an inch, and you gasp at the thickness. 

“Fuck, tight little thing,” Joel moans. “Need you to beg f’me, baby.” 

“Please, please, sir,” you answer quickly, “please, I–I want it!” 

He sinks in another inch, his face pinching in barely controlled restraint. 

“Say–fuck, say ‘I need your cock, sir’.”

The words are caught in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. Joel doesn’t like that you take too long to answer and slaps your cheek. 

“Answer me.” 

“I need your–your cock, sir,” you whine. 

“Again, fu–again,” he demands. 

You try your best to repeat his words, except he’s too far gone now. There’s a pinch, a rip of thin flesh and suddenly he’s sliding all the way in. You claw at his arms and at the grass to get away but he’s gripping your thighs, pressing deeper and whispering take it, pretty girl and you ain’t getting away from me.  

You feel full, so incredibly full. You’re split open, ripped apart just for him. 

“I know, baby. I know,” Joel coos, “it’ll hurt only for a minute.” 

His thumb rubs tiny circles on your clit and he leans over to press kisses on your eyelids and cheeks, licking away the tears that fall. 

The stretch burns, but his groans of pleasure and his gentle kisses have a warm glow spreading through your body. Joel notices the change in you and glances down to watch your hips move in small circles. 

“There we go, baby,” he moans, “knew you’d like it.”

He pulls out slowly, keeping eye contact with you and watching each pinch of your brow and flutter of your eyelids. 

“Saved this pretty cunt just f’me, yeah?” 

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, pushing away the sweaty curls from Joel’s forehead. 

He picks up the pace, curling his hand behind your knee and pushing it into your chest, arranging you like a doll. The pain now completely gone, you lay there, running hands over his arms and watching the sweat drip down his temples. 

Every slide of his cock kisses the very end of you. Your hips move and twist on their own accord and you have no choice but to cry out into the night sky. 

“Takin’ this–this big cock like a good girl, yeah?” Joel groans, watching his cock plunge in and out of your little hole. “Need you–fuck, need you to say you’re mine, baby.” 

“I–I’m yours, sir,” you whine, feeling a twinge in your core, “yours, yours, yours.” 

You dig your fingers in his neck and drag him down for a kiss. He grunts as you bite deep enough to draw blood. 

The thoughts from earlier, about running away from him, leave your mind. Even if it hurts a little, even if you aren’t prepared to be a wife, this is exactly what you need. And you won’t let anyone else have him.

“You gonna cum, girl? Gonna cum on your husband’s big cock?” 

This time he doesn’t stop you. His hand squeezes your neck and he traps you into the ground, pistoning his hips into your slick cunt. Your oxygen lessens and your cumming, numbness and white heat spreading throughout your body. 

“Just like that, baby,” Joel growls, “soak my cock.” 

You're gushing on him, painting the hair at his base with sticky juices. You tremble in his arms and claw at the hand that squeezes your neck. Joel doesn’t let up, fucking into your limp body, loving the way you mewl underneath him.  

He moves in short thrusts, stiffening and letting out an animalistic grunt into the night sky. He presses his head into your neck, sucking and biting into your soft skin while he spills his seed inside of you.

"Take my cum, baby. Take it, take it," Joel moans.

You clench around him, massage his cock with your inner muscles. Every drop of his cum belongs deep inside of you. 

With the little strength left in your body, you run your fingers through his hair. Joel's hands move to grip your thighs and he grinds down, spilling the last of his cum into your cunt.

"You belong to me," Joel whispers. "Don’t ever run again."

You lay there in the grass, breasts bare and pussy full of your husband's cock.

"I won’t," you promise. 

Joel leans back and slowly slips out. There’s a twinge of red mixed with his cum that he wipes up with your ripped panties. He lays down next to you and brings you in close so that your head is placed on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat and the sounds of crickets around you.

You think about the long way back to Joel's–well now your house too–and then you remember exactly where the two of you are.

"Sir, we're outside of the gates what if something or someone comes–we don't have any weapons–"

“There’s another gate a few miles out," he interrupts, "I installed it for extra protection around this place.” 

You drop your head on his chest from relief and exhaustion. Joel rubs a hand down your back and squeezes your arm. 

“I’d never put you in harm's way, pretty girl.”

-

general taglist: iloved1lfs0

ps: i know that there has been other cult leader!joel fics but in no way shape or form have i copied those works for this. if there is something major in my work that sounds similar to someone else's, it's purely by coincidence. i respect each person who takes time out of their day to write FREE content and the last thing i'd do is steal their storylines 🤍🤍🤍

[astralis-ortus]

sunday, sunday, sunday

✱ husband!bc × fem!reader

— now, and every sundays to ever come. i want to spend them all with you.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, fluff, fluff. just tooth rotting fluff. warnings → very minor cussing (just once)(atp cussing is a given lol), kissing, time jump (twice), chan referred to as chris a.n → blame the man for putting the idea in my head like what can i do??? his insta post??? hello??? not to mention his song recommendation while i was writing this??? laufey's like the movies??? what??? he wants me dead atp<////3 ⋆ see masterlist

it’s sunday.

to be fair, it has been sunday since the moment chris’ eyes flew open a few hours ago. it’s sunday when he got ready, it’s sunday when he got his light makeup and hair settled, it is sunday when he finally wore the crisp tailored suit that has been turning his heart into the loudest marching band ensemble he’d ever known.

but to be fair,

it’s not just any sunday.

“bring those shoulders down, hyung. you’re gonna get cramps at this point.”

“oh shut up,” chris groaned, feeling more embarrassed about the fact that he got caught more than the fact that his nerves are firing non-stop at an untraceable rate. “just take the pictures, felix.”

albeit rolling his eyes at chris’ rather feisty comment, it was proven impossible to wipe the cheeky grin off the younger’s clearly ecstatic face. after all, it’s a monumental day in chris’ life—and he’s very honored the older trusted his (and technically hyunjin’s) skills to capture the day’s earlier moments.

“see? that’s already all better,” felix cheerily quipped, snapping several pictures as soon as he caught a glimpse of chris fixing his posture. besides, a little movement here and there does make the picture come out a lot more natural, which was the one thing you repeatedly told him (and hyunjin) as something you wanted to see most in the final cuts.

you.

the mere thought of you was enough to melt the remaining stillness present in chris’ face.

it has been a wild few months; meetings after meetings, fittings after fittings, testing, changes in plans, some other minor revisions, checklist, checklist, checklist. chris was justifiably spent, and so were you. there were arguments (you refused to call them fights, knock on wood), there were a couple of shed tears (out of frustration, of course), there were a few hours of leaving each other on read (justifiably so, considering both of you are quite the stubborn pair), but there were also a lot of make-up dates, plenty of exchanged giggles of excitement, and bountiful of prayers for the days to come.

those days have been wild, and this sunday will begin to prove that every second of it was worthwhile.

“chris hyung!”

woken up from his trance, the glint on chris’ eyes finally returned as he found hyunjin’s head peeking from inside the room—the one he’d been waiting on for the past 10 minutes while his head was busy creating bits and pieces for his life montage.

“ready to see your bride?” asked the younger, grin replicating the ones felix is sporting behind his lenses.

am i ready?

palms running over the fabric of his carefully crafted suit, ones you finally chose after debating over a dozen others you deem was ‘not grand enough for someone about to spend the rest of my life with’, chris took one final breath.

“ready.”

it’s sunday.

it’s been exactly a week since your wedding day, and you finally got your hand on the stack of developed pictures courtesy to your now-husband’s talented teammates. originally, you wanted to take part in picking the films, but the duo was pretty convincing when they said waiting for their pick would make a good little surprise to enjoy on your honeymoon trip.

“come on,” chris beckoned, curls framing his beautiful face while his hand motioned to the empty spot next to him on the bed; one you just left after a call from the front desk informing you about the tiny package under your husband’s name. “let’s see how hyunjin did at taking your pictures.”

“and felix at yours,” you added with a grin, swiftly claiming your throne while your fingers were busy ripping open the brown envelope. “i want to see my husband as much as you wanted to see your wife, you know. not to mention, that suit was absolutely perfect on you.”

“not again,” his defeated giggles has been chris’ way to answer to your every compliment on his look since the day of your wedding. “you need to stop that before my head blows up to the size of a hot air balloon, my love.”

“well,” you shrugged, finally getting your hand on the stack of pictures before then snuggling right into the warmth of chris’ arms, “have you ever thought about trying not to be so hot all the da-“

and of course, stealing kisses has also been his alternative should you continue to run your mouth and try to turn him into a blushing mess.

as if that’s not exactly the reason why you kept up with the praises.

“can we start looking at the pictures,” he muttered over your lips, evidently smiling as his lips brushed against yours, “or do i still need to shut you up?”

you hummed, letting the warmth of his skin hover over your face before your lips captured his in a quick peck, “pictures. need to see my cool husband.”

the way his laugh reverberates against his chest never fails to warm you up.

“okay, picture it is then.”

it’s sunday.

you didn’t expect moving to be this hard—sure, you’ve been living together with chris even before you two got married, but had you really been accumulating that many stuffs?

“fuck—i think it’s not the right screw,” your husband’s mutters forces your line of sight to gravitate towards his hunched figure, still hovering over the half-built shelf on the floor of your living room.

“you reckon it should still stick out this much?” he questioned, beckoning you to look at the silver piece, sticking out like a sore thumb. “no, right?”

“think not,” you huffed, crouching next to chris to look at the scattered pieces around him, “was this all? did they send the wrong one?”

chris groaned in defeat, deciding to lean onto your warmth instead of voicing his answer. maybe building your own furniture was not exactly a good idea to spend your first weekend home after your honeymoon trip.

treading your fingers through his soft curls, you then came up with a suggestion, “i’ll get you a pineapple juice then we’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

and it sure perked him right up.

looking at you with sparkles lighting up in his eyes, it felt right—it felt like even through the worst sundays, chris would still be the there to welcome you home.

“thank you,” he grinned—the boyish kind. the one that made you feel like a swarm of butterflies, one that gets you blushing like a schoolgirl in front of her first ever crush. his lips then found its home on the bare of your thigh, printing a quick kiss on the surface, “you’re the best.”

“mm, i know,” you answered with a giggle, feeling the warmth breaking through your skin before returning the kiss on his plump lips while feigning ignorance to the way your heartbeat grew louder by the second.

“you’re still the bestest of the best, though. can’t beat you.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[writing-wh0re]

AAAAH, I just saw you posting your prompts and your requests are open. I don’t know if you write them together or individually, but if you can (or if you can’t but you can write for one of them), could you do Fred and George with a Smutty prompt #3?

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley

Word Count: 6,167 - I had so much fun writing this

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Slight Choking Kink, Slight Slapping Kink (if you squint), Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spanking Kink. Slight cum kink. Use of pet names.

Basically its a very kinky smut and there's actually plot - look at me go.

A/n: Sorry I have been inactive, life am I right? But I'm getting a desk setup completed so I will be more fequent! I hope. I apologise for this being long, but I truly had so much fun writing this request. My love for the twins is reigniting. I will be fixing up my taglist as well / making a library blog for posts. I have written this smut differently to how I have in the past, let me know if you'd like a part 2!

Merry Christmas x

| | | |

Hogwarts was quiet the closer it got to Christmas, snow was gently falling and the gusts of wind were freezing. Most students went home for Christmas but this year was different for you. Your parents had decided to take a trip to get away from the wizarding world for a few months with no real timeline of coming back, it was something that shocked you but also didn’t surprise you. 

Fred and George had decided to not rush home right away, debating on whether or not to ask you to join them at the Weasley house for Christmas, not really sure of what your relationship was, if it was anything other than lust and desire. 

“You can’t sit alone in the common room for weeks, it’s Christmas.” George grumbled slouching down on the couch beside you.

“I’ll be fine, honestly, I have so many books I can read.” You gestured to the pile of books on the table that you had acquired from the library. “You two should head home, I’m almost certain your mum has made your favourite foods.” 

Fred smiles at the mention of his mum and her tradition of making something for everyone to enjoy. 

“You can come with us, we have a spare room and I’m sure mum would be overjoyed to finally meet our best friend.” 

Best friend

Although not untrue the word still seemed to pang your heart with disappointment. An on and off hook up to them doesn’t mean the same thing it does to you and that was something you were coming to terms with. 

Fred and George sensed the hesitation on you after Fred had dropped the best friend title, it was something they were yet to discuss with you, were you just best friends who fooled around? Or were you also wanting something more that you could all figure out together over time. 

“I don’t want to impose, you’ll have such a full house, isn’t Bill in the guest room this year?” 

George smirks, you do listen to every word they say. 

“What Freddie is saying is there will be a spare bed somewhere, we have two in our room and the couch downstairs, I’m sure something can be sorted.” 

“Mum already thinks you’re coming so hurry up and pack your things.” 

Your mouth falls open at Fred’s revelation, your eyes flick to George who smirks. 

“Go on, we leave in fifteen minutes.”

“I feel like there wasn’t much of a choice in this matter.” 

The twins chuckle as you pack your things up and run up to your dorm, searching your room for a bag to pack things into you. 

You quickly rush out of your dorm, running into the twins as you look up at them. Their eyes wander your face, a blush creeping up your neck. 

You look down at the floor, before George places his hand under your chin.

“Everything okay baby?”

Baby. 

You weren't quite sure how a simple nickname could make your stomach flip and your body tingle, but it did, especially coming for George and Fred. 

“Uh, um.” Your mind is foggy, unsure what you were originally rushing for. The twins smirk, sharing a quick look before your face lights up, having remembered what you wanted to ask. 

“How long are we gone for?”

“We will be coming back the week before term starts.”

“But we can come back earlier if you’d like.” 

“So three weeks?”

The twins nod as you spin and walk back into your dorm, them following behind you. You walk back and forth from your closet to your bed, where the twins have decided to lounge while you pack. Finding outfits is easy, finding lingerie works out to be a little harder under the gaze of the men on your bed. 

You quickly open your dresser draw, looking over the various colours of lace and matching sets. Quickly you grab a hand full and shove it into your bag, closing your dresser and zipping the bag closed. 

“Darling, you dropped something.” George whispers, moving past you and bending down to pick up your dark red G-string, blush creeps up your face, your stomach filling with butterflies as George passes the material to Fred who simply places it in your bag and rezips it. 

Your mind continues to rush, a million thoughts racing through your brain as the twins share a smirk before grabbing your bag from the bed. 

“C’mon love.” Fred holds your bag as he walks out of your dorm, George follows closely behind his eyes looking you up and down, sending a swift wink your way before holding his hand out, an invitation to take his. Which you do, almost embarrassingly fast. 

George squeezes your hand and pulls you along with him to follow Fred. 

| | | | 

After a few days at the Weasley home, you started to feel settled and a part of the family. Harry had joined the household on the same day as you, making you feel not so alone in the imposing feeling. No one was surprised to see you, they were excited to have another friend along for the celebration. Molly had made you feel so at home, hugging you when you first arrived, a feeling of warmth and comfort washing over you within her embrace. 

Over the past few days, Molly had shown you how to bake a few of her signature recipes, she had even gone as far as asking what your favourite food was, setting herself a goal of creating it for you come Christmas Eve. 

Being one day out from Christmas, Molly didn’t want to be disturbed in the kitchen, she needed her space and stated that everyone should go outside to play a friendly game of Quidditch, she emphasised the word ‘friendly’ mainly at the twins. 

So you sat on your broom beside Harry, waiting for everyone who was playing to fly into the air. 

“Have you played before?” Harry asks curiously, not knowing much about you, himself being two years younger. 

“Yeah, but I'm definitely not a pro.” You laugh as Harry smiles, looking out at the Weasley family. 

“I think they’re going to kick our ass.” 

“Oh without a doubt.” 

You and Harry share a smile, your eyes wandering to the golden ball, clearly not the shiny golden snitch but definitely close. The quaffle and bludgers fly through the air with a woosh sound, everyone going into game mode. You and Harry nod at each other, both taking the role of seekers before rushing into the air in search of the ‘snitch’. 

Within a matter of seconds the twins are behind you, chasing after you. You fly past the duo, diving down behind Harry who seems to have his eye on the golden ball. You quickly look over your shoulder, the twins hot on your ass. You notice the golden ball dancing between the twins. A smirk dances across your lips as you fly up higher just outside of the quidditch pitch, pulling up on your broom as the twins fly past you. They stop and look back at you as you flash them your bare tits. Both of them go wide eyed as you hold the golden ball between your hands, pulling your sweater back down. 

“Later losers” 

You turn your broom around, wiggling your ass as you dive down to the grass. 

“We won!” You scream, Ginny, Bill and Ron rush down to you, pulling you into a hug and cheering for your team as the rest of the players come to the ground. 

You make brief eye contact with the twins, a darkness in their eyes but clapping for your victory nonetheless. 

“Lunch is ready! C’mon darlings before the storm comes.” Molly gestures for everyone to come inside as you opt to help clean the game up, the twins staying behind with you. 

You bend down to pick up the spare brooms, your ass brushing against George’s crotch, your eyes locking onto Fred and sending him a wink. 

Fred stands in front of you, shielding you from the view of the house, George holding your hips, pulling you against his chest. Fred caresses your cheek, his head shaking. 

“Do that one more time and we’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 

Your breathing hitches, your eyes never leaving Fred as he hooks one finger into the collar of your sweater, looking down at your bare tits. George slips one hand up into your sweater, groping your boob as you whimper, a shiver runs over your body at his cold finger tips. The fear of getting caught creeps up, a slight wetness running to your core. Fred tilts your head to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly. 

The twins smirk pulling away from you like nothing happened and begin grabbing the game equipment. 

They walk towards the home, not once turning back to look at you. Thunder rumbles through the sky as you quickly rush inside, not wanting to be left out in the oncoming storm. 

“There you are sweet girl, would you prefer peach or lemon tea?” Molly asks sweetly, smiling at you before worry washes over her. Molly places her hands on your cheeks and a slight frown on her face. 

“Y/n, honey you look flushed, are you okay?”

You heart hammers in your chest, those fucking twins. 

“I’m okay Molly, the wind just gets to me sometimes.” You smile, reassuring her as she pulls you into a warm embrace. You make eye contact with the twins, smug smirks on their face. 

“You tell me if you need anything, now, lemon or peach?” 

You nod at Molly, deciding on lemon tea before squeezing in between Fred and George at the table, conveniently the only spot left. You spin the pasta around the fork, thankful for a warm meal. Your body tenses slightly, feeling both Fred and George place a hand on your thighs. Both of them grab and squeeze the flesh, involuntarily rocking your hips at their touch. You quickly catch yourself, continuing to eat while the twins trace shapes and grip your skin. 

| | | | 

Not much continued to happen yesterday and today had mainly been taken up by Ginny and Molly asking for help with wrapping gifts, a cheeky idea coming into your mind as you pocketed a bit of red ribbon. 

Tonight was the big Christmas Eve feast, Mr Weasley had finished work early and everyone was told, multiple times, that dinner would be served at 7pm, not a minute over. Molly hadn’t made lunch today, wanting everyone to wait with anticipation for her multitude of amazing dishes, a favourite created for everyone in the home, including yourself and Harry. You had simply asked for baked honey carrots, which judging by the smell of honey filling the home, Molly had delivered. 

“Thank you girls, go get comfy while I finish up dinner.” Molly smiled, kissing Ginny’s head before ushering us away from the table so she could set it accordingly. 

“I’m going for a quick shower.” Ginny states rushing up the stairs in front of you. You duck into the twins room, looking over George’s messy bed and Fred’s mattress on the floor, thankful that you could share a room with them but lucky enough to score Fred’s bed. 

“Mum loves you.” I jump slightly at George's words not noticing him behind me. I smile, falling backwards on Fred’s bed. 

“I love her, she feels like home when she hugs you.” I whisper as George hums in agreement. 

Fred walks into the room, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist. I sit up slightly, resting on my elbows, my eyes shamelessly dragging over his toned body. 

“My eyes are here baby.” 

That fucking nickname.

“Oh I’m well aware.” I whisper, looking over at George quickly. “Remind me, do you look like that?” 

George smirks, pulling his shirt over his head, his body just as toned as Fred’s. 

I bite my lip, looking between the two shirtless twins. 

“Noted.” 

Fred locks the door behind him, resting against it. George stands from his bed, nodding at his brother before pulling me closer to the edge by my ankles.

“We’re sick of this game love.” 

“We know you want us.”

“Fuck, we want you.”

“That shit you pulled during the game.”

“Dangerous.”

“Slutty.”

“Showing off what’s ours to the whole family.” 

My breath hitches at their words, looking up at both of them towering over me on the bed. 

“I’m yours?”

The twins smirk, George leans down, his thumb brushing against my lip. 

“Should we remind you?”

“It’s been a long time, baby.”

“We forget what you feel like.”

“Sound like.” 

They emphasise their words by groping at your body. Your body tingles, wetness pooling between your thighs. 

Fred feels your pocket, pulling out the red ribbon with a smile. George smirks, tilting his head at me. 

“Are you our Christmas gift?” 

You open and close your mouth, simply nodding as they chuckle. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.”

“Yes.” You whisper, watching their every move. 

George smiles, leaning down and pulling you up from the bed, your chest against his, your back against Fred’s. 

“How lucky are we Freddie.” 

“Extremely.” Fred whispers, his hands gripping your ass. 

George leans down to your lips, his lips hovering over mine, your breath mixing as my eyes flick from his to his lips. 

“Please.” You whimper. 

George closes the distance between you, your lips moulding against each other. Fred kisses along your neck and shoulder, sucking on your weak spot as you moan into George’s mouth, allowing for his tongue to twirl with yours. 

“Be quiet baby.” George whispers as Fred captures your lips, his kiss just as soft as George, savouring every swipe of your tongue against each other. George’s hands slip under your sweater, a groan falling from his lips at your lack of bra, twisting your nipples. 

“Fuck daddy.” You whisper, both of the twins stopping briefly, as George grabs your hair pulling your face to him. 

“Say that again.”

“Daddy.” You whimper, your lips pouting, Fred moans, his hands spanking your ass.

“We’re going to ruin you.” 

Before anything more can happen you hear Molly shout up the stairs, letting you know dinner is served. 

“Fuck.” The three of you say in unison, the boys pull away from your body. Fred rushes around the room for clothing as George puts his sweater back on. 

George smirks at you, tapping your ass and nodding towards your hair. 

“Might want to fix that baby.”

“Don’t want everyone to know you’re our little slut.” Fred winks, both of them slipping out of the room, their footsteps bouncing down the stairs. 

Your fingers brush against your lips, a slight tingle against the flesh from their kisses. A smirk forming on your face, thankful for the last few minutes, a step in the direction you crave. 

After you fix your hair,you quickly bounce down the stairs, thankful you're not the last one as Harry and Ron rush in behind you.  

“Sit, sit dear.” Molly gestures to the space across from the twins, next to Ginny and Harry. You quickly sit as Molly places the last dish on the table. The house smells amazing, a mix of spices and hints of firewood from the stove. 

“Merry Christmas, I love all of you.” Molly smiles, kissing Arthur. “Including you two.” Molly gestures to Harry and yourself as you knock his shoulder, smiling at him. “Please, eat.” 

No one waits for Molly to say it twice, everyone serving themselves. George serves you a pile of honey carrots and Fred places a few roasted potatoes on your plate before continuing to serve themselves. A soft smile falls on your lips, the simple domestic gesture filling your heart, maybe this could work. 

Everyone is quiet while enjoying Molly’s food, the sound of knives and forks clicking together. You catch Molly’s eye as she enjoys watching her family sharing dinner together, only having this occur a few times within the year. Molly catches your eye and winks at you, scrunching her nose and smiling at you before taking a sip out of her wine glass. You smile back at Molly, a warmth washing over you at the small interaction. Your eyes flick to the twins in front of you, both of them almost finished with their meal. A cheeky thought pops into your mind as you shuffle on your seat slightly, dragging your foot up George’s leg. His eyes lock onto yours, he nudges Fred inconspicuously to get his attention before sitting back in his chair, his legs spreading wider as his older brother looks down at the chair quickly. You press your foot into George’s crotch softly noticing his body tense as Fred shakes his head, grabbing his cup and tipping the liquid into his mouth. You drop your foot from George and move it to Fred, not wanting him to feel left out. Fred grabs his napkin, wiping his mouth as he looks over at George and nods. A wordless conversation shared between the two as George smirks. 

“So Y/n and Harry, what subjects are you looking forward to most next year?” Molly asks, butterflies flip in your stomach, feeling like Molly caught you. You quickly drop your foot from Fred causing him to chuckle slightly, George takes a sip from his glass hiding his smirk at your reaction. 

“Defence against the dark arts, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.” Harry states, causing a small chuckle to fill the air. 

“And Y/n?” Molly smiles. 

“Potions, I’m excited to create a few remedies for different conditions but also to help these two-” You quickly gesture to Fred and George who go wide eyed, you know Molly and Arthur don’t know about their ‘jokes’ yet but why not keep them on their toes. “With passing the subject. You know they don’t stir their cauldrons, they just expect it to work when you throw things into it.” 

Molly and Arthur chuckle, a smug smirk on your face at the panic you just gave the twins. 

“Oh that explains why their grades for positions are so high, we have you to thank.” Arthur chuckles as you nod, smiling at him. Little does he know, you have them to thank for your grades. 

You pick up your glass, taking a sip of the cinnamon eggnog, freshly made as Molly questions her kids about what they’re most looking forward to. You only half listen, your mind occupied by the pair of redheads in front of you, your mind filled with ideas on what you want to do to them and them to you. Thankfully for such a great break. 

| | | | 

The night flew by, Molly handed out one gift to her kids, including yourself and Harry. Molly stated it was something to wear for Christmas day breakfast and to not fuss over opening one present early. She asked everyone to open them at the sametime, to which you did and found yourself with a handmade sweater with your first initial on the front, everyone had one. You held the fabric close to yourself, knowing you would hold onto this for the rest of your life. 

Fred and George hadn’t spoken to you since dinner, opting to hangout with their brothers and Harry while you and Ginny gossiped on the couch. Ginny was confiding in you about her crush on Harry and how Dean had been sending her letters since he left for break. You hadn’t noticed when the room dwindled down to just yourself, Ginny and Harry. Upon noticing and remembering what Ginny had said, you excused yourself, leaving the two of them alone which caused Ginny’s cheeks to heat with a rosy blush. 

You quickly went up the staircase, noticing how much quieter the house was the further you climbed. You slip into the twins room, hearing soft snores, noticing Fred’s asleep on the spare mattress on the floor. You look to George’s bed and see it's empty. You can hear the faint running of water, a small idea popping into your head. You walk over to the bathroom, your hand resting on the handle, hoping to god it’s George. You contemplate this gamble for a few seconds, bouncing on your heels slightly before the devil on your shoulder simply says ‘fuck it’ and you turn the handle to the bathroom. 

“Hey, knock-” George pulls the shower curtain across, cutting himself off when he sees you leaning against the now closed bathroom door. A smirk forms on his face as pulls the shower curtain open a little for you, simply waiting. The steam flows outside of the curtain, the mirror foggy and walls wet. You quickly slip out of your clothes, untying your hair and letting it fall. A shiver runs over your body in the damp air and you hurry into the shower, wanting the warm water to cascade over your body. 

George has his head tipped under the shower, leaving his body open to your eyes. You drink in his figure, his toned chest and arms, his semi hard cock and strong legs. The water streams down his skin, small sprinkles covering your body. Wetness slips past your folds, your heart beat picking up, this almost feels wrong without his counterpart. But you know they will talk and you know Fred will be jealous. 

George faces you, dragging his hand down his face to wipe away the water, his eyes linger on your body, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 

“What’s Freddie going to say?” 

The mention of his name has butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“Why don’t you tell him and find out.” 

George smirks at your response, stepping closer to you and pushing you against the side shower wall, the cold tiles resting against your skin as a hiss leaves your lips.

“You’re a cock hungry whore, aren’t you baby?”

Your lips part at his words, simply nodding and leaning up to capture his lips. George pulls away from you tutting as he holds your chin between his fingers. 

“You answer daddy when he asks a question.” 

“Only for you daddy.” 

George chuckles, tilting your face up to his. Small droplets of water fall from his hair and onto your skin. 

“Liar.” He whispers, licking along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth and pulling the flesh. “You’re a slut for Freddie, and fuck it makes me hard, but tonight you’re mine.” 

You nod your head, a whispered ‘Yes Daddy’ slipping from your lips, your eyes staring into his. His lips lock with yours, his wet hand moving from your chin and tangling in your hair, pulling on the strands. A moan falls into your kiss, your tongues swirling against each other, his free hand holding your hip, pulling your dry body against his. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet baby.” George whispers, his lips kissing down your neck, tongue tracing a line to your boobs. You softly whimper as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the hardened bud. He pulls from your breast with a pop, alternating to the other side, your fingers tracing through his hair, pulling when he bites your nipple. The warm shower water sprinkling your body, the steam filling your lungs as your gasp.

“You’re so beautiful and these tits.” George whispers, grabbing your boobs in his large hands and jiggling the flesh. He sucks on the skin of your cleavage, leaving a red and purple hickey on each one, definitely something to rile up Fred. 

George presses against you, your boobs slip against his wet chest. His lips brush against your ear as you feel his hard cock against you skin. 

“This is all for you.” 

Your moan in response, causing George to place a hand over your mouth. Tutting at you as he shakes his head. He drags his fingertips up and down your thighs, softly tapping against your folds before slipping one finger past. He sucks in a breath at your wetness, pressing his fingers against your clit and looking into your eyes. 

“You’re so good for me, so wet and warm.” 

You nod against his hand that’s still pressed against your lips. His finger starts to swirl around your clit in small circles. Your eyes roll back, a moan vibrating against his hand. 

“I’ve missed this pussy baby.” 

He picks up the pace of his finger on your clit, your legs tense at the feeling of pleasure flowing through you at his actions. George pulls his finger from your clit, placing the digit against his tongue and rubbing it side to side, before his lips encase it. 

“So sweet.” 

If he wasn’t covering your mouth, it would be open in shock. 

“Please.” You beg, whispering against his hand, it is barely audible, he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t feel your lips move against his skin. 

“Are you begging for me to fuck you against the wall baby?”

His words cause more wetness to flow between your legs. He moves his hand from your lips allowing for you to answer. 

“Please daddy, I’ve missed your cock.” 

George smirks, placing his hand under your right knee and lifting your leg up, his other hand resting under your left arm. 

“I bet you’d say the same fucking thing to Freddie.” 

It’s your time to smirk at his words, nodding softly before you reach down and wrap your hand around his hard cock, tip red and beading with precum. 

“I would, because I’m a whore for you and a slut for him.” You whisper, slowly pumping your hand up and down his dick. George bites his lip, looking down at your hand. You place his cock against your folds, the tip brushes your wet clit causing him to hiss at the contact. You guide him lower to your entrance, angling your hips to allow for him to slide into your velvet walls. 

Both of you sigh in unison at the contact. George keeps his hips still, his lips capturing yours, savouring in the feeling of your walls around his cock. You rock your hips up slightly, a silent beg for movement as he smiles against your lips, pulling his cock from your pussy before plunging deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he finds his rhythm, his cock slips in and out of you, your wetness growing the deeper he thrusts inside of you. His lips are resting against your ear, his low whispered moans and groans echoing in your head. 

“So tight and wet for me.”

“Such a good girl for daddy.” 

Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy has your pussy tightening around him, his praise sending tingles through your body. 

The water of the shower continues to run, it ever so slightly sprinkling you both with droplets. The steam continues to fill the room, the water pressure dropping from being on for so long. 

“Touch your clit for me baby, I’m close and want you to cum first.” 

You slip your hand between your bodies, a moan falling from your lips as you circle your clit, the wetness causing it to slip against your finger. You add another, two now circling your clit and fast to help you reach your high. 

“Look at you, such a whore.” 

You whimper at his words, your pussy tightening causing George to hiss, tilting his head back, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he continues to rock in and out of you. 

“D-don’t stop.” 

Your legs tense, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and George’s lips fall to your neck, kissing the skin and whispering for you to cum. 

“Cover my cock baby.”

Your heart beat picks up, your breath hitching and your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your legs tingle and untense; George’s cock continues to slide in and out of you, his pace picking up as he moans in your ear. His mouth falls to your shoulder and bits skin to muffle his moan as his cum spurts, warmth pooling inside of you. 

George pulls away from you, watching his cock pull in and out, covered in a mix of cum. He gently places your leg down, slipping out of your pussy with a hiss. 

“C’mere.” George whispers, pulling you to his chest and kissing your hair. He spins you around, softly placing the warm running water against your cold back, his fingers tracing in your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead, his hands now holding your hips. 

“Let’s get you ready for bed.” 

| | | | 

You wake up in the morning, a dull ache in your legs from last night. The memory of last night floods your mind, you lift your shirt looking at your boobs beautifully covered in hickeys. 

“I hear you had fun last night.” 

You look over at Fred leaning against the doorway. Your face fills with blush, your eyes quickly flicking to George’s bed as you hear Fred chuckle. 

“George is out with everyone else, mum insisted they hand deliver Christmas cards to the neighbours.” Fred states, closing the door and moving closer to the bed. “And I insisted on letting you rest because you were up late last night and had to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.” 

“Freddie.”

“Nuh-uh, what’s my name baby girl.” 

Your stomach fills with butterflies, watching the eldest twin sit on the bed beside you, his fingers caressing your face. 

“Daddy.”

Fred nods, his hand tilting your chin up, before settling around your throat. Bending down to your lips and whispering against them. 

“That’s better, I bet you called George daddy and I bet you fucking loved it.” 

“I did.” 

You want Fred to be rough, you want him to compete against his brother, you want to be filled with his cum. 

“I hear you’re a slut for me, is that correct?” 

His hand tightens around your throat before releasing softly, dragging his hand down your body and resting it on your boob. 

“Yes daddy, whatever you want me to be.” 

Fred smirks, chuckling at your response. 

“So submissive for me, you wanted to make me jealous didn't you baby?”

He grips your breast, pinching your nipple and dragging his hand down your body, cupping your pussy through your thin pyjama pants.

“You want me to fuck you better than George.”

“Please.” You whimper, your hips rocking up against his hand. 

Fred slaps your pussy through your pants as your hips stop. 

“He was right, you’re a slut for me.” 

You simply nod in response. Fred leans down, his lips ghosting yours. 

“Get on your knees and show me what you want.” 

Within a second he’s pulled away for you, leaning back on the bed and resting against his elbows. You scramble off the bed, falling to your knees in front of him, the wooden floor hard and cold. 

You loop your fingers into Fred’s pants, tugging them down his body along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting against his lower stomach. Your mind floods with comparison to George, the thickness and length comparable, a vein running from the base to the tip. You run your tongue along the vein, flattening your tongue against the head of his cock before slipping it past your lips. 

“Fuck.” Fred moans, falling back on the bed, his hands dragging down his face. 

You wrap your hand around the base of his dick, meeting your lips half way, your tongue flicking side to side around his cock. Fred’s fingers lace in your hair, assisting you with bobbing your head up and down, his hips thrusting into your throat. Your eyes water, a few gags filling the air and drool leaking from your mouth. 

“Such a messy baby.” 

Your eyes roll back, moaning around his cock. 

“You didn’t- fuck- suck George’s dick, did you baby.” You shake your head, popping his cock from your lips. 

“Just for you daddy.”

“Mm, just what I wanted to hear.” Fred grabs your face between his hands, kissing your lips sloppily, his tongue rubbing against yours. Your lips are puffy and glistening with spit, his teeth pull at your bottom lip pulling away from you. 

“On the bed baby, ass up for daddy.”

Within an instant you’re standing in front of him, stripping your clothes. Fred stops you before you can lay across the bed, noticing the hickies covering your boobs. 

“Cocky fucker.” Fred groans, spanking your ass in encouragement to get on the bed. 

You lay with your ass in the air, feeling Fred kiss down your back. He reaches your ass, spanking the plump skin, soothing it with a soft kiss to your cheek. His teeth graze the skin, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your ass. You squeak as he spanks you, his cock dragging up and down your slit, bumping against your clit, your moans filling the air. 

“No one’s home baby, be loud for me.” 

Fred slides deep inside of you, the angle allows for him to brush against your g-spot a moan pulling from your throat. 

“Fuck, I should just stay inside of you, that would drive you crazy, wouldn’t it baby?” 

“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” 

“Mm, what would George say?”

“Fuck, please, fuck me.” 

You push your hips back against his cock, a low groan falling from his lips. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock baby.” Fred encourages, your hips rock back and forth on his cock, wiggling them against him. You pull forward just far enough to leave the tip inside of you before pushing back allowing for him to slip deep inside of you. This causes Fred to grip your hips, starting his own rhythm and thrusting in and out of you. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it baby?”

You nod against the comforter, your hands gripping the material. 

Fred spanks your ass, his fingers looping your hair around his palm and pulling you up. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes daddy, wanted you to fuck me.” 

“Wanted me to fuck you better than George.” 

You moan at his words, his pace picking up. Both of your moans and heavy breathing fill the air, his grip still tight on your hair. Fred uses his grip to pull you up against his chest, his arm wrapping across your boobs as he bounces you on his cock. 

His lips fall to your ear, using his free hand to rub your clit. 

“Fuck, Freddie.”

Fred chuckles against your ear, his warm breath fanning your neck.

“Scream my name louder baby, I want George to hear.” He pinches your clit, your body jumping in response before he rubs fast circles around the bundle of nerves. You rest your head against his shoulder, lips parted with moans pouring from them. Your pussy tightens around his cock as his dick twitches. 

“You can cum for me baby, I’ve got you.” 

Fred’s grip on your body tightens, his hips rocking into you faster. 

“Daddy, so good.”

He kisses the side of your head, his pace picking up on your clit. He feels you clamp around his cock and your body tense. Your toes curl and your body shivers, cumming around Fred.

“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Fred whispers, the sound of your wetness filling the air as he continues to pound into you. He pushes your torso back onto the bed, holding your ass in his hands and chasing his high. Fred curses and you feel his load shoot inside of you, a few more thrusts and Fred gingerly pulls out of you. 

“Look at you baby.” He whispers, softly caressing your skin. 

You gently roll over onto your back, attempting to catch your breath as Fred rushes around for clothing before disappearing. You hear the front door to the Weasley’s home open close and a chatter fill the air. You heart rate picks up slightly, your body aching and mind blissed out to cover yourself. 

Fred reappears in the bedroom with a warm towel between his hands. Within a moment later George is sliding through the door. His eyes darkening when they land on you, legs spread and pussy dripping with his brother's cum. The twins share a look as Fred throws the towel to George who stalks over to you. 

“Such a pretty baby, our little cum slut.” George whispers, his eyes fixated on your pussy. A gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of George slipping his fingers inside of you. George pulls his fingers from you, a mix of cum sticking to his flesh. You grab George’s wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth, dragging your tongue up his fingers, sucking the mix of cum, your moan vibrating around his fingers. Your eyes lock with the younger twin, a smile present on both of their faces. 

“We’re so lucky Freddie.”

| | | |

Let me know if you'd like a part 2 with both of them.

[hoshinasblade]

second best |1| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

DISCLAIMER: this fic has a detail that hasn't been mentioned in the anime yet. it isn't a big give-away but if you are sensitive about that kind of thing, please do not proceed. pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 3K trigger warnings: author's note: this fic has two parts - part 2 will be posted a week from today :) likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated but please do not repost or steal my writings. this is quite long, but i gotta make you guys work for it. i have also set up a taglist for the second part and the other fics or drabbles, please sign up if you wanna be tagged! as always, feel free to let me know what you think or give me a prompt by sending me an ask here!

hoshina soshiro can claim with extreme conviction that he rarely regrets the decisions he has made so far in his life.

from the time he has set his sights on taking the aptitude exam necessary to be recruited in the anti-kaiju defense force, to following captain ashiro mina to support her as the vice-captain of the third division, to religiously adhering to his daily routine of working out even during his off days so he can stay in peak condition - everything he's done is driven by soshiro's lone motivation: to rise and come on top.  

unfortunately, as he sees you walking in the hallway of the training building with his brother, soshiro realises that this is one of those rare occurrences where he hopes he gets a do-over.

it was barely 6 in the afternoon so there was still light from outside; the rays of the setting sun penetrating the transparent windowpanes cast an orange glow to the furniture in soshiro's office. it made him remember how he used to always be assigned as the student to clean the classroom back in junior high school: he would sweep first then rearrange the chairs before closing the windows and drawing down the curtains. he would rush up to the rooftop, in time to watch the sun dip below the horizon. he would stay for a few precious minutes, dreaming of a chance to get out of their town. he was fifteen then.

soshiro shook his head a bit. he decided that today - of all days - will not be when he will have a trip down memory lane. yes, despite the number of times he would get reminded of his past today, he refuses to get sidetracked.

the floor is eerily silent, save for the momentary opening and closing of doors; soshiro is aware that almost everyone has left, flocking to the local izakaya not too far from the base to celebrate. he had half the mind to prompt himself to hurry up in order to make it to the get-together on time. the long and gruelling application process took three months before the vetting could begin, but finally, the third division of japan anti-kaiju defense force honoured its new officers that morning. as the nominated head of the selection committee, he oversaw the entire thing, and at the end, he could not help but to feel confident that their force would become stronger from here - this year their roster of applicants boasts high-profile names like that of the very daughter of jakdf's director general and the young master of the prestigious izumo family.

okonogi, sitting in front of him at his office, was sorting the personal forms of the recruits, a big stapler in her right hand. "i can take care of this, vice-captain", she said to him, "they cannot miss you there."

soshiro smupled to his swivel chair, obviously fatigued by the task he and okonogi had been trying to finish for half an hour already. fighting and defeating kaiju is the main part of the job, but handling the paperwork proves to be as challenging. "right, make sure the headquarters get this by the morning along with the report of all their numbers -" the sound of footsteps nearby interrupted soshiro's train of thought.

there were three loud knocks and the door opened, a man with the same eyes as soshiro peeping inside. even okonogi glanced over her shoulder to identify who the intruder is. soshiro stood up.

"just wanted ta drop by before i head back ta himeji", hoshina soichiro's undeniable accent dripped. spotting the huge pile of forms littering the desk, he commented, "seems like ya are a little preoccupied though."

"hoshina fuku taichou, good evening." your voice was firm yet jovial as you greeted him, the kansai inflection rolling off your tongue. you appeared beside soshiro's brother, still wearing the same standard-issue uniform you wore during the event several hours ago when you were sworn in as a new defense force officer. the outfit is snug on you - soshiro had noticed at the ceremony earlier, but up close the top looked almost skintight, the skirt coming up a little above your knees. soshiro can be a high-ranking official within the force, but he is also a man. if only briefly, he stared. "aren't ya going ta the party?"

taken aback that you would drop by his office, it was out of his mouth too fast he couldn't stop it - "how about ya? what are you still doing here with him?" soshiro responded pointedly at you, throwing you the same query but not answering what you asked him. it was too late to take it back; he sounded like he was interrogating you about your presence with the captain of the sixth division. soichiro winced; soshiro pretended not to see. "i- i was just thinking ya went with the officers on the way there", he added, calmer this time.

"oh, i was just catching up with hoshina-kun", you replied without missing a beat. soshiro doesn't know if the accidental force in his question just seconds prior did not intimidate you at all or you simply ignored his tone. "i mean with soichiro-kun. considering ya are hoshina too", you chuckled. soshiro stole a glance at the man at your side while maintaining an empty expression. he found his brother smirking at him; soshiro willed himself not to picture soichiro as an ugly kaiju with a butt for a face.

okonogi who is now attentively eavesdropping on your conversation caught your attention. "pardon for the bother, hoshina-san. we'll be off now."

for an instant, it looked like you were waiting for soshiro to say something in response. to say what, he doesn't know. the eye contact between you and him held up for a moment but broke as quick as it began. tension prickled in the air briefly then ebbed as you turned away from soshiro. "i'll see ya at the party, vice-captain", you gave him a bow before exiting the room. soshiro wanted to stop you; he didn't.

soichiro sighed. "it was nice seeing ya, 'lil bro", he addressed soshiro, his hand patting the latter's shoulder once, twice. "i have paperwork ta worry about too so as much as i'd like to, i won't be able ta attend your division's party. just in case ya want ta know." soshiro didn't look like he had a crumb of interest to know about his brother's occupational responsibilities; he shrugged soichiro's hand off.

soshiro saw you standing outside, leaning on the wall, when he ushered his brother out. "i'll be driving her to the izakaya though", soichiro informed him. "ya should visit our folks when ya have the time. ya should come home sometimes", soichiro continued, a hint of concern evident in his voice. when soshiro did not respond, surprisingly the older hoshina did not look a tiny bit disappointed. instead, soichiro put on a charming smile and waved at okonogi. "okonogi-chan, see ya around!" he tossed a playful wink at her.

soshiro merely watched as you and soichiro walked together, your pace matching his. a few meters away, he saw you listening intently to something soichiro was saying - he is too close - and although he is not within earshot to hear what is being said anymore, he knows it is another one of his brother's bad jokes. it looks like you were trying to suppress it, but a smile was about to dawn on your lips. soshiro felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden.

the party was already in full swing when soshiro arrived - everyone is hungrily feasting on the expensive wagyu beef, drinks flowing endlessly from the bar. everyone is enjoying themselves; even captain ashiro mina can be seen having small talk with the newly sworn-in officers who were eagerly taking notes from her.

you had easily made friends with the other rookies who are now sitting next to you; it was thanks to your group that this event was planned - after enduring long sessions of strenuous physical training every day of every week, you all deserved a night of everyone just gathering to have a good time. soshiro seems to be exempt from the festive atmosphere though.

he picked the seat next to his captain, who greeted him with a curt nod. he proceeded to grab the mug of beer served to him; the first sip registered a sharp bitterness through his mouth but soshiro relished on the flavor as it overtook his senses.

"everything alright?" captain ashiro from his side asked without lifting her gaze from her own drink. "you are being -" she paused, carefully searching to find the right words, “uncharacteristically quiet.”

soshiro picked the glass of beer again, and when he was about to put the lid on his lips, he could sense someone’s intense stare locked on him. years of being the vice-captain gifted him with equal parts instinct and paranoia so he could not help but scan the room, only to find you, sitting across the room, watching him with a curious expression.

a rowdy group of rookies surrounds you; they are high-fiving each other, laughing at their silly pranks, not minding that all of you are squeezed together at a crowded circle. soft music in the background swelled as everyone cheered and clinked glasses.

soshiro's eyes remained fixed on yours, lasting for what he felt like forever. the buzz of chatter dulled to a distant hum, fading into an almost white noise. his heart raced as he felt his breath catch and his mouth go dry. the corner of your lips curved into a smile and maybe it is the alcohol in his system, but he is certain his cheeks are flushed now.

"huh", captain ashiro lowly exclaimed. soshiro quickly snapped a glance at her. "you talked to her yet?" she asked him. ah, she caught his little moment with you.

soshiro was on the verge of playing it cool and putting on an act; he was about to outright lie to his captain by saying "talk to who?" as if he had no idea what she was referring to. he settled with silence. he was grateful his non-response only earned him a sigh from the captain who did not press the topic any further.

 "to you newbies, congratulations!" captain ashiro raised her glass, still half-filled with alcohol. her voice rang out over the place, everyone's conversations immediately falling quiet. "may the third division always be victorious in our battles to come", she recapped her speech.

the party showed no signs of slowing down. hibino kafka, a recruit in his thirties has been the centre of intrigue that has spanned for weeks now. hibino ossan - as what the others nicknamed him - had revealed in a bathroom conversation with other male rookies that he grew up with captain ashiro. ashiro mina likes dried squid; ashiro mina used to raise pets in grade school - everyone consumed any and every tidbit of trivia hibino disclosed about the usually stoic and serious third division commander. soshiro was among those invested in the rumor and you knew why. for a while, you also wondered how he would react once the rest of the troops learned about your own past with their vice-captain. would he deny it? or would he brush off any potential gossip that may arise from the revelation? if everyone discovered your shared history with hoshina soshiro, would it make him want to reconnect with you?

“you lot will start duty monday next week, but tomorrow will just be another workday for vice-captain hoshina and i”, captain ashiro said, having stood up from her seat, preparing to take off. “no, you can stay”, she said to some of the newbies who have started to get up too.

“nah, captain, why don’t we bring them along to help us file all the tedious paperwork?”, soshiro interjected in his familiar upbeat tone. the crew bursted into snickers; captain ashiro gave soshiro a perplexed look, obviously puzzled about the sudden shift in his mood. testing her theory, she looked at your direction.

captain ashiro couldn't make out why, but you were giggling at whatever your seatmate had said, elegant hand covering your mouth, eyes crinkled. she understood soshiro then - she was not foreign to feeling uneasy inside when she sees someone so physically near someone she cares about after all. "let's go, hoshina", she tucked her pity for the vice-captain away.

"do you guys think they are dating?" a particularly tactless rookie sitting at your table had asked immediately after captain ashiro and hoshina were out the sliding doors.

"i bet they're not", you blurted out a little too soon, a little too sure. you did not mind clipping your accent, your kansai-ben thick and heavy. your fellow officers looked at you, expecting an explanation for your outburst. "i mean -" you stuttered, "that would be awkward, i guess."

"you know to think of it, you're from himeji too, right?" a few more recruits have started to listen in on the exchange. these people can smell the truth off me, you thought. you wanted to smack yourself in the face.

"we went ta the same high school together, that's all", you admitted, feeling backed in a corner. tomorrow when you get questioned for this imprudent behavior, you can probably blame it all on the alcohol. "and grade school", you continued, loose-lipped now.

you still liked wearing pink bows in your hair when you met him. an only child of kind parents, you never experienced having to ask for something you like; you were doted on and spoiled so you were reasonably upset when a young hoshina soshiro did not give you the time of his day. your family has just moved to hyogo shortly before that, and you were anxious to make friends; since your early age, you had made it your mission to make soshiro acknowledge you.

"you dun wanna play with me, because ya are stupid", you told soshiro-kun once. "oka-san said all boys are stupid", you had the nerve to elaborate after he pouted at you, his unkempt bangs sticking on his sweaty forehead, his clothes dirty from training all day.

"yer pretty", he responded and you felt the blush crept up on your cheeks. "pretty annoying."

"come on, spill some tea!" someone's palm connected with the table, jolting you out of your trance. "we have another hibino-senpai situation on our hands!" they declared, grabbing you by the arm and shaking you a bit. if it was meant to encourage you to tell more childhood tales between you and the vice-captain, it worked really, really well.

"he's always had that haircut even as a kid", you said, misinterpreting the kind of story your companions wanted you to tell, judging by their disappointed looks. “i- i don’t know what else to tell you guys”, you held up your hand in surrender.

“do you have a crush on him?” you choked on your drink, caught off guard.

vexed at his absent-mindedness, soshiro was walking back to the izakaya place alone when he heard the commotion. he is going straight to bed once he gets back to the base, but he would have to retrieve his uniform jacket first from his seat earlier.

“you totally do, don’t you!” it stopped sounding like a question and more of an accusation you could not deny. “you like hoshina-san!”

“i -i do, yes... but what of it, huh?" he couldn’t see you but he would recognize the soft timbre of your voice anywhere. soshiro felt like a victorian gentleman getting a glimpse of a woman’s ankle for the first time listening in on the uproar of cheers after your confession.

“the three of us attended the same high school, soichiro-kun was a grade ahead”, you said. soshiro froze. you are talking about his brother. “he has always been good at everything, t'was hard not ta like him.”

soshiro closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing. he always had his suspicions - for the ceremony earlier his brother even took a day off his busy schedule as the commander of the sixth division to attend as a guest. he should have known.

last year, soshiro’s squad fought a lizard-type kaiju with a fortitude of above 8. like the reptile, a cut made on any of its limbs was useless due to advanced regeneration. a fractured rib, extremely bruised arms, and a dislocated shoulder were what it costed soshiro to win against the monster. his bitterness threatening to consume him, he cannot believe that you confirming his worst fears would hurt more than that fatal experience.

of course, he said to himself. it’s not like he can fault you for liking soichiro - everyone did. as the firstborn son, their father always had favored him. soichiro has been the more skilled swordsman between them; he was the golden child, charismatic and talented with an effortless charm - like moths to a flame he would attract people, and even in his silence he would overshadow soshiro.

soshiro didn’t stand a chance against his own flesh and blood.

he was a teenager when he dreamed of running away from the constant but inevitable competition he had with his brother. scouted for the third division, he relished on the freedom. but how do you escape the reality of the one you love loving the one person you could never measure up to?

[starkeyisthelastname]

@rvfecamerons has asked me to write this amazing idea she came up with. I hope this didn’t disappoint. Thank you again babe! 💕💕💕

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

You had never really been much of a troublemaker, always listening to your elders and being respectful to everyone, even those less fortunate than you. After you turned 19, you started to become more independent. Going out to parties, taking trips to the mainland to shop by yourself, and even to her dismay, talking to boys.

Rafe had been the one to suggest getting the AirTag to put in your car. He wanted you to always be safe and to ease her worries, at least that's what he told his wife. The real reason being much darker than that. He had been sickly obsessed with you since the moment he laid eyes on your pretty self. No boy was going to touch you as long as he had control of it, and getting the AirTag installed was just the kind of control he needed.

For the last month, he had been stalking everywhere you went through the handy app on his phone. Even got in his own car and drove by a few places to check and see if the damn thing was working. Your innocent little self didn’t suspect a thing either, which is what made you so naive to the situation.

It had been like any other night. Your mother and you had gone out to dinner while Rafe worked late. She being oblivious to the fact you were texting your guy friend, who had invited you over. She never thought you would actually sneak out, you were too much of a sweetheart to do that. It was much to her surprise though, when your room was empty and car was gone at 1:00 in the morning. She immediately thought of the AirTag, Rafe had installed a moth prior, running back to their shared room.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. To catch you being the little slut he knew you were. The GPS on, he zoomed towards your location until the icy white Mercedes with a bedazzled North Carolina tag came into view. The only car there. He shut the truck off, letting his muscular 6’2 frame stalk towards the door. His usual light blue eyes, turned pitch black as soon as he barged through the door. “Bozo’s” tongue down your throat as you laid on the couch.

Gripping the shirt, the boy wore, Rafe teared him off of you. His fist immediately connecting with the boy’s jaw. You sat still, in complete shock by multiple things. Your head was spinning, how did your step-dad find you? How did someone punch one time to have teeth falling out? You knew that your step-father had a violent past but to quite literally see the boy you liked getting beaten to death, had not only scared but something else. Something that made your princess parts tingle.

“Rafe.” You whispered, the boy you had been making out with now bruised and battered as your step-father towered above him.

One look up and Rafe’s hand was gripping your arm, yanking you off the couch. He took your keys and purse in the other, dragging you towards the still open door. You winced, trying to get out of his grip but ultimately failed as he literally threw you in the passenger seat of his truck.

The tires screeched as he sped off, zooming down the empty roads of Kildare. His jaw was tight, the vein in his forehead protruding as he boiled in anger. “I knew that innocent act you pull all the time was a load of shit.” His voice so low it made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You think I’m stupid, huh? That I don’t know you are a fucking slut. You can hide it from your mom, but not from me. I could tell you were a slut from the moment I met you. Batting those ridiculous lashes at me.”

“Not a slut..” You mumbled, looking down. He was berating you with every sentence he spoke, his words nasty and degrading.

The laugh that came from him was sarcastic almost menacing, he glanced over at you for a moment, truck swerving in the process. “You know I told your mom that girls like you need some discipline. Been too fucking spoiled all your life.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, tearing your gaze away as you tried to stay relaxed in the car ride from hell. You noticed Rafe turning a few streets too early, making your frown. The street leading towards Figure 8 was nothing but trees, making it dark and desolate. You were about to ask what he was doing when the car came to a hault. It came too fast, one second you were being yanked out of your seat and the next you were being pushed against the bed of the truck.

“Rafe.. what are you doing?” You whispered, feeling the cool air hit your exposed bottom from the short skirt you wore.

“Shut up and listen.” His voice boomed, a hard smack to your ass from his hand, making you squeak out. “I’m a proactive type of person. So that means when I say I’m gonna discipline you, you are going to get disciplined.”

You weren’t expecting him to spank you, your ass cheek now stinging from just one hit. You hated yourself and more importantly your cunt for clenching around nothing at the pure wrongness of this. You felt just how damp your panties were getting, wishing you hadn’t worn a skirt or better yet had not even snuck out that night.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down and the clank of a belt, had you turning your head. It was a quick look as your head was roughly pushed down onto the hard plastic of the bed of his truck.

“Rafe..” You whimpered, head burning. “No..”

The taller man behind you, yanked your skirt up, tearing your soaked panties in one go. The dark sounding chuckle behind you was all you needed to hear to know that something bad was about to happen.

“You wanna act like a slut. You get treated like a slut.” His voice rough as he shoved his length inside you with no warning. “Show you what real dick is, since you wanna find out so bad.”

He was huge. Bigger than anything you ever could have imagined. You had only lost your virginity a few months prior and hadn’t had sex since. The burn and stretch to your hole was brutal, tears pooling in your eyes from the pain. The control he had over you though was powerful and you couldn’t bring yourself to fight back.

“What was that earlier? Not a slut.” He growled, yanking your head up by the hair. His hand came to grip your jaw tightly, dark blue eyes boring into your soul. “Why you dripping down your thighs, huh?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know why. Your step father was gorgeous to look at, and a part of you didn’t want to ever disappoint him. That was no reason to be soaking his cock though as he held you down against your will.

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughed, ramming inside you at a cruel pace, making you take his monster of a dick.

“Too.. too much.. please.” You begged, your lower stomach on fire as your first orgasm was already approaching. His hand moved down to your throat, clasping it in a tight grip. You felt your oxygen being cut, the lightheadedness coming to your brain as he squeezed hard.

“Awe don’t please me, pretty girl. You shouldn’t have been such a disrespectful little bitch, if you didn’t want to learn this kind of lesson.” Rafe’s words making you clench around his cock.

You tried to cry out, the pleasure of him taking over your body whether you wanted it to come or not. You quite literally thought that this was it. Being strangled to death, while your step-dad’s dick was buried inside you. But as you came down from your orgasm, the grip from your neck released, making you gasp for breath.

“I sure do hope that you don’t think this is over.” He breathed heavily. “Your daddy’s girl now little bitch. Got that? I catch you fucking around with another clown, I will kill you.”

You knew he had never been more serious.

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 03 | myg

part three: four seconds

Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?

<part two | part four>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: HERE IT ISSSSSSSS!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I will try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present 

When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake. 

You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not. 

Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month. 

You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t,  why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago. 

That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away. 

When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you. 

Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart. 

That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him. 

You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.  

Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring. 

Four years ago. 

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.

You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy. 

But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you. 

“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”

You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet. 

The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget. 

The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.

That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.

Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch. 

And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage. 

Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.

You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it. 

Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again. 

Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly. 

He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.

Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.” 

That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.

“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump. 

Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.  

“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.

You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air. 

“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.” 

Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously. 

“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”

There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.” 

Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse. 

You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.

Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that. 

You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you. 

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.

Present 

You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong. 

You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered. 

Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no. 

You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day. 

Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?

Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.

Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face  “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.

“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.

Four years ago. 

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve. 

If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all. 

After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.

The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it. 

He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).

You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist. 

The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.

“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.

“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you. 

You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”

The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind. 

“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”

The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.” 

“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself. 

He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?” 

“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you. 

“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”

You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon. 

He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said  “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”

You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe… 

“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.” 

He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon? 

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you. 

“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”

“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.” 

Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?

Present

You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different? 

Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.

Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first. 

“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.

“Doing what?” 

You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question. 

You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly. 

“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.

Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.

It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?” 

Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people. 

“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.  

“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.” 

“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.

“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.” 

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.

“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you. 

You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”

“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh. 

“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”

He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?” 

You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You  tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping. 

His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered. 

“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.

“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.

You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat. 

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room. 

Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.

You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster. 

The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat. 

You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door. 

You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was. 

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t. 

“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right. 

The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth. 

You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it. 

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”

She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.

It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes. 

You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”

“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”

“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle. 

“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”

Four years ago 

Seven days before New Year’s Eve. 

There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.

The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade. 

You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products. 

You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…

Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.

This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car.  He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you. 

Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not. 

You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her. 

Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor. 

After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you. 

You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation. 

Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.

Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.

You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.

You gulped. 

That seemed completely normal.

“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”

“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.

“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.

He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words. 

You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”

Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was? 

“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him. 

“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”

You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”

He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.” 

He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).

You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant. 

You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.  

“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat. 

You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute. 

What. Was. He. Doing. 

And what was he playing?

You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?

And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. 

“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.

He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it. 

He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that. 

“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”

The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him. 

“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure. 

Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were. 

Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling. 

When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.

The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other. 

Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation. 

“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you. 

“Well, I can only imagine…”  She said, but you did not miss her undertone. 

You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind. 

“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you. 

A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside. 

“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame. 

You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you. 

You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit. 

“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”

Present

The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment. 

Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came. 

You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him? 

When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away. 

“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home. 

Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you. 

“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts. 

As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city. 

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.

“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.” 

You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises. 

“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”

You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart. 

Nothing like reality, you thought. 

“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.” 

You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations. 

But of course, once again, you were wrong. 

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”

The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary. 

You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…” 

The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker. 

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”

“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.

Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”

“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind. 

“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”

You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were. 

She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”

The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth. 

“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”

That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else. 

Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen. 

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear. 

You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine. 

When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again. 

Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing? 

“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved. 

You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.

“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent. 

You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that. 

Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”

“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.” 

He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him. 

“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”

You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick. 

“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.” 

You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless. 

“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response. 

“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.

“What? I mean-”

“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree. 

He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him. 

“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.” 

Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again. 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 30. breaking news

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. physical aggression. verbal abuse (not to reader). infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.4k

notes: thank you again for your patience with the chapter! life update: i resigned from my company (on good terms, even though the work had sucked my mental and physical health), and i am soon doing a trip to japan and southeast asia as part of my recovery. still, i will be actively writing and responding since this community is so important to me! also, has anyone been keeping up with jujutsu kaisen's manga?! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Life without a sugar daddy was rough.

As Toji Fushiguro's ex-wife and Naoya Zenin's ex-mistress, Mari faced this harsh reality since no one threw their money in her direction anymore. She slept little this past week, overwhelmed by financial stressors. While she still subsisted on the younger executive's credit card (with his fortune, Naoya hardly noticed the charges on his bill), she realized that she actually had to work for an income.

Such was the case as Mari walked home one evening after interviewing for jobs, her body and mind exhausted from fielding mundane questions about her previous professional experiences (which she had little of).

Upon unlocking her apartment door, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her illuminated living room.

That struck her as odd.

She always switched the lights off before she left.

However, when she spotted a familiar face down the hall, she found the answer.

"Tsumiki." Mari dropped her purse by the door. "What are you doing here?”

The woman had not seen her one and only blood-related child in months. While she knew that her daughter—who was, without doubt, a fantastically accomplished and intelligent young lady—just completed her second year at Oxford University, she thought the girl had chosen to remain in England for her summer break. Didn't Toji mention that she did not want to return to Tokyo?

Not that Mari complained. She was just...confused.

Admittedly, Mari should know the answer to her question, but she had been too ‘occupied’ to contact Tsumiki as much as a good mother should. As a result, Mari found herself in the dark about the girl's life in the United Kingdom, her plans for the university holiday, and her recent classes in…what was her field of study again?

Surely, Toji and his twerp son Megumi would know all the answers since Tsumiki had always been closer to her Fushiguro stepfamily. Quite a shame, since Mari would have considered her daughter as the most perfect angel otherwise.

She toed her shoes off.

“When did you arrive in Tokyo?” Mari continued with a plastered smile and approached the girl sitting with crossed arms in the living room.

Genetics ran deep between mother and daughter. Uninformed observers might even mistake the pair as sisters, the physical resemblance uncanny in how Tsumiki presented a more youthful version of the older woman by sharing the same warm chocolate-colored eyes, long dark hair, and flawless porcelain skin.

Yet, physical similarities meant nothing when Mari could not fully decipher her own flesh and blood.

“I came back to Japan earlier this week,” Tsumiki responded a terse edge in her tone.

“But I haven’t seen you until now.”

“Because I’ve been staying with Dad.”

“Oh.” So, she meant with Toji. “You mean your stepdad.”

“No,” she corrected sternly. “He's my dad.”

Theoretically, Mari could go into a whole tangent on how Tsumiki’s actual father was some middle-class nobody whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to since her first divorce (and that was many years ago). Or how the Fushiguros technically were Tsumiki’s ex-stepfamily since Mari had divorced her second husband Toji earlier this year.

But she spared her daughter from the reminders.

“Well, I’m glad to see you back, honey.” With a bottle of unfinished cabernet sauvignon in the fridge, Mari meandered to the kitchen to pour herself a full glass. She returned to living room and joined her daughter on the sofa. “How have you been? I’m guessing England has been treating you well? I have never been, so I wouldn’t know. Heard that the fish and chips are good there."

No response.

Am I being ignored? Mari commented inwardly and swirled the red wine in her chalice.

She took her first sip amid the long and awkward pause before switching the topic to encourage conversation. "Anyway, whenever you would like, you’re always welcome to stay a few nights here. Wouldn't hurt to spend some more time with your mother."

Only for Tsumiki to quip, “We’ve talked about this before. I don’t want to live with you.”

Now, this—Mari believed—was certainly uncalled for. "Watch your tone with me, young lady."

"For what? I am not here because I miss you," her daughter resumed. "If I had a better option, I would not bring myself to show up here and be in front of you."

The older woman placed her glass down and tried to appear calm. Hearing Tsumiki speak with such contempt twisted a deep knife into Mari's heart. Once upon a time, her daughter had been the sweetest girl—warm, full of life, and eager to express her innocent thoughts with anyone she encountered. Now, however, that same person had been tainted into someone cold, guarded, and withdrawn, demonstrated by her disrespect to the very woman who had given her life.

"That is no manner to talk to your mother," Mari cautioned.

"Well, maybe because I have my reasons."

"Which are?"

"Do you want to know why I did not bother to text or call you these past several months?" and Tsumiki did not wait for an answer before she angrily added, "Because I am so upset that you filed a divorce with Dad!"

While Mari had hoped to not bring up the topic before, she had no choice but to do so now.

"That big, burly, bulky man is not your father," she snapped. "He and his emo Harvard-bound son are not your family! In the eyes of the law, there is no longer any relation between you and them. But, I am your mother. I had given you life, and this is what you think of me?"

"Because I love them!" Tsumiki opposed through a hardened glare. "Dad and Megumi treat me more like their blood-related family than you do!”

Mari could not believe the preposterous words her daughter spewed. She always presumed that the Fushiguros had been corrupting her child, and to see her suspicions confirmed had Mari standing up promptly from the couch.

"How dare you say after all I have done for you, Tsumiki?" Mari interrogated angrily. "Did you think that I left your biological father and then divorced your stepfather for what...for fun?! These choices were difficult for me, too! But I made those judgments because I wanted to give you a better life in which we didn't have to worry about where our next meal, our next piece of clothing, or our next rent payment would come from! Your biological father is a no-name nothing. He could’ve never supported the lavish lifestyle you had experienced during your adolescent years. In fact, if I hadn’t married Toji Fushiguro, you probably wouldn't be studying at the University of Oxford right now! I, alone, could never have afforded all your years of expensive tutors or private school tuition. Please, think before you speak. I know I did not raise an ungrateful brat.”

Tsumiki furrowed her brows from the comments.

“You're the ungrateful one, Mom!” she insisted, and the said woman visibly reeled back when the girl continued to seethe with antipathy. “All the money that you had spent while married to Dad, he never asked for a single cent back. Never. In fact, he still pays for my university. In his eyes and mine, I’m as good as any blood-related child to him. He hadn't asked you to chip in because he knows you wouldn't have the money to. Divorcing the man you've been leeching off of isn't a sign of appreciation, Mom."

To hear her child defend another family, Mari wasn’t sure if she was going to laugh or cry at how ridiculous this scene was, the only thing she could process being the pain and betrayal that slammed her with one bitter blow.

"Well, did you want to become a laughingstock?" the woman rationalized. "Given our ties to the Zenin name when Toji left the company, those nasty journalists would've clung onto any scrap to label you a buffoon. You know what those tabloid writers are like! I had the foresight to divorce that man. I did not want the disgrace if we remained attached to the Fushiguros."

After that response, Tsumiki turned quiet with one sharp exhale as her eyes snapped shut, and Mari, whose entire body had undulated from heavy and irate breaths, thought that finally—finally—she had won this godforsaken argument.

Until she heard the younger girl speak again.

"Yet, you have humiliated me more than anyone," and noticing how her mother quirked a brow, Tsumiki went on. "Who are you really trying to protect, Mom? Are you truly making these decisions for my benefit? Or is it...for yourself?"

Despite hiding a gulp, the older woman noticed her heart race. "What do you mean?"

"How can you explain this?"

As though that was her cue, Tsumiki reached for her phone. She tapped onto the front page of the Yomiuri Shimbun, the most highly circulated newspaper in Japan. Before Mari could read the bold title labeled as 'Breaking News,' Tsumiki provided her with a verbal summary:

"The world knows you're a homewrecker, Mom."

Naoya found no surprise when Naobito Zenin burst into his executive suite as an angry bull would charge toward a provoking cape.

Plenty of times, his father barged into his private office completely unannounced, slamming the door open with enough force to rattle the wooden bookshelves behind him. Usually, the dramatic entrance would be followed by a slew of harsh admonitions, and this encounter—Naoya could tell—would be no different.

The astringency cast on his father's countenance gave the executive no other choice than to rise from his seat, his office chair sliding back so he could pose tall and confident as the heir to Japan's largest conglomerate should be.

"Father," he greeted, curt.

Taking hurried steps around his mahogany desk, Naoya aimed to meet the older man halfway until he instead came into contact with one harsh blow that sent his face flogging to the side.

Naoya froze, his gaze lowered.

Instinctively, he reached for his throbbing cheek with one hand as the other wiped briefly over his busted upper lip. To have his father approach him physically like this didn't even register as a surprise. Despite his title as the Zenin CEO, Naoya continued to be scolded, lectured, and outright ignored because, in his father's words, he 'never seemed to get anything right.'

Even now, the older man found no hesitation in cursing out his only child.

"You fucking son of a whore! Want to explain why your affair with Toji's ex-wife is all over Japanese media?!"

Slowly, Naoya lifted his eyes from the floor. He had suspected that this would be the topic of discussion. In the last hour, Naoya saw his name plastered over tabloid pages, news websites, and social media feeds as an anonymous whistleblower tipped publishers in regards to his scandalous affair with Mari—and the millions Naoya spent to hide it. Evidence ranging from supposedly long-gone paparazzi photos to screenshots of money transfers circulated quickly with the internet.

Naturally, Naoya had seen the headlines too...

'Zenin Corporation CEO Exposed for Concealing Affair with Predecessor's Ex-Wife' 'Everything to Know About the Zenin Household's Uncovered Drama in Family, Business, and Love' 'Billionaire Naoya Zenin Entangled in Cheating Scandal, Accused of Bribing Press to Silence Coverage'

...and the comments:

'That’s why you can’t trust rich people. They never have any shame.' 'His wife and company deserve better.' 'Disappointed that this is the scumbag leading our country's largest company.' 'The Board should fire him.’

Now, that last comment struck a very particular chord, especially since the Chairman of that very Board stood before him.

Naoya clenched his hands, yet he stood mute. With every wrong move certain to cost him far too much in return, he was completely powerless in front of the family patriarch and, as a result, his first logical reaction was to defend himself.

"I do not have the evidence yet, but I am certain Toji had planned this, Father. Him, and also Sukuna, Geto, and Choso. All four leaked these details because they didn’t want to see your son succeed. I will resolve this. I am going to call Toji immediately and—“

"You're right," Naobito interrupted coldly. "If Toji had still been CEO today, he would've made sure that none of this bullshit would’ve happened.”

Naoya widened his eyes in bewilderment, not anticipating his father to twist his logic like that. He already received a literal slap across his face, but to realize that Naobito still compared him to his older cousin all these months later drove him insane!

"No, Father. What I meant was—"

"Oh, there is no need to correct me. I know what you meant," Naobito tested in a low voice. "What I gathered from this conversation is that I have given you a million chances in life, and you know what? You blew every single one of them. You're an asshole, you're a cheater, and you're a complete humiliation. I can always count on you to paint me as a failed father."

Outrageous.

With the bitter staring contest between father and son, the latter boiled internally listening to the insults from the man who sired him. For the ruthless Naobito Zenin, Naoya meant no value as an heir without the ability to achieve his high standards. 

"Some twisted brain you have for sleeping with your cousin's ex-spouse,” Naobito then chided, yet amusement remained absent in his tone. “Was that the low-class tramp I saw in the photos with you on the private jet the other day?"

The blonde kept his mouth shut.

But his father wanted an answer. "Well?!"

Suck it in, Naoya. That's all you can do now. "Yes."

What a sight, to see how someone blazing as a furious flame then erupt into a violent volcano. Naobito grabbed his son's collar, pulling him forward and shoving him against the wall. His fists shook as he sought the other's gaze.

"You're fucking married, you realize that?!" he snarled.

"I do! Which is why I have cut Mari from my life! I don't talk to that woman anymore."

Unimpressed, Naobito tugged forcefully at Naoya's shirt again. "I am truly astonished by what an idiot you are. Your answer doesn't change shit." He tightened his grip and did not care that his son wrapped both hands around his wrist to prevent himself from choking. "Let me tell you something, boy. I did everything—everything—to convince our Chief Operating Officer to let his treasured daughter marry you, you despicable bastard. He didn't want to hand the girl over because he knew—oh, that man is wise!—he knew that the union mainly served as a tactic to improve your public image and that there was little obvious benefit for his child. Power and money did not interest him when compared to his daughter, so the one promise I made is that you would love her," and he roared, "so, what the hell have you done?!"

Naoya had heard his father’s warnings countless times, yet he previously brushed each one aside with an ambivalence he now acknowledged as foolish. Unlike before, the threat to his hard-earned position suddenly became very, verypalpable. He grappled with a strange fear, unable to pinpoint what precisely unsettled him the most. The scorn from a world that no longer saw him as an honest businessman? The sneers from relatives with an undeniable reason to mock him? Or perhaps the fury from his draconian father, whose disappointment cut deeper than any public disgrace?

"I—" Naoya's choked voice resembled a croak. He could hardly breathe. "I apologize. This entire situation...this got out of my control."

Alongside his callous disregard for his son’s feelings, the Zenin patriarch even scoffed.

"This isn’t about getting out of your control, boy. This is about your complete lack of judgment. In fact, Daisuke called me when he saw the headlines, and you know what he told me?" and he had to refrain from flinging his son onto the ground before he continued, "That Y/N's been staying in her family residence again because she is going to leave you!"

Naoya held his next breath. Fuck, he knows. Naoya intended to keep his recent arguments with you a secret, hoping to resolve the situation first. However, since your father snitched...lying would be a dangerous move.

"I have not seen Y/N in a week because we've had a few fights." Naoya did not dare admit the details about how you two became arguing spectacles, first in his cousins' presence and later on at the café. "Just...marriage quarrels. We will get over—"

“She would be a moron to stay married to you,” Naobito cut off. "Y/N and your unborn child deserve more than to have a public disgrace like you in the household."

Right. Had he not been reminded, Naoya would've forgotten that he had lied to his father about your pregnancy, too. His hands grew clammy where they still seized his father’s wrist.

“There"—a cough—"there is no child,” Naoya blurted out, determining to rip all bandaids off in one go.

Naturally, his father became perplexed.

“Excuse me?” His hold loosened just enough for Naoya to gasp properly for his next breath.

“Y/N is not pregnant,” Naoya repeated, his voice hollow with resignation. “During our last family dinner, I only said that because I wanted to please you.”

The older Zenin became still, appalled by the younger one's bravery to say those words. For a moment, Naoya braced himself for another physical blow before his father released him, shoving Naoya backward such that he stumbled.

“If you weren’t so disappointing, there would be no need for you to lie to me,” Naobito pointed out coldly. "Not only to me, but also your wife, your colleagues, and your shareholders on matters about your family, your marriage, or your commitment to the company. If Toji had not brought this to the media's attention, how much longer would you have manipulated the truth for your benefit?"

There he went again.

"I don't understand," Naoya protested, unable to contain his frustration any longer. "Toji doesn't belong in this family anymore! Why do you keep talking about him? Father, you forced him to leave earlier this year, citing his threat to our family and company's reputation."

"You're the one to talk!" Naobito shot back. "At least Toji has the brain that you utterly lack." Before the younger man could react, the Chairman had already turned on his heel. "I have made my decision."

His decision?

A confused Naoya watched his father head for the exit.

"Wait, Father...!"

"Enough!" The infuriated man raised a hand right as he neared the door, a warning for him to not speak further. "Our discussion has concluded. Effective immediately, Toji Fushiguro has been re-instated as the Zenin Heir and CEO."

Instantly, Naoya slumped forward in disbelief.

Even as the older man disappeared, the room appeared to spin dangerously. Toji Fushiguro...re-instated? As the heir and CEO?

Naobito Zenin could never make up his mind, now could he? In Naoya's head, this must be some cruel joke.

Ever since he comprehended his ability to bend fate to his will, he had promised himself to fight tooth and nail to defend the (very rightful!) position that he worked hard to earn. He had disposed of his cousin through slander, he had to put up with shitty corporate politics, and, hell, he had to even marry you!

Some may label Naoya's current negative publicity as irredeemable, but he held hope the situation would normalize once the steam blew over.

With these thoughts in mind, Naoya regained his balance and rushed out as well. "Father!"

However, by the time he reached beyond the doors, Naobito Zenin was no longer there. Even his secretary could not be found as, instead, two imposing figures stood by the desk where his assistant should be. Naoya didn't recognize them. The men were tall and well-built, their muscled arms and thighs visible despite the fabric that covered their tattooed skin.

"Nice to meet you," one started after the long silence. "I am Eso and this is my younger brother Kechizu."

A stumped Naoya frowned.

"May...I help you?"

"No," the other answered nonchalantly, "because we are here to knock you out."

"Wha—"

And Naoya's vision went dark.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Note that Eso and Kechizu are Choso's younger brothers in JJK. (Both are not completely human in canonverse, but we shall suspend beliefs.) Also, I cannot explain the satisfaction as I wrote about Naoya and his mistress finally getting wrecked! Talk about justice being served! There were many ways these scenes could have played out, but I strategically chose Tsumiki and Naobito as the agents in the discussions. Freed from corporate America handcuffs, I plan to post again soon. Love you all!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzuruu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[novamariestark]

Stress Relief...

Summary: Over the last 9 months, your life has changed a lot, it was hard not to feel stressed, but after meeting quite possibly the sexiest guy you'd ever met at Molly's, stress was the last thing on your mind

Warnings: age gap, smut, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), drunk-ish sex

Word count: 3354

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x halstead!reader

[A/N] I've been wanting to write for Hank a long time, but every time i watched Chicago P.D to get ideas and inspiration, I got distracted 🤣, It's very hard not to

You were a creature of habit. Always have been. So it didn’t take long for everyone to learn them. One particular habit was your nightly trip to Molly’s. The firefighter bar. You met Herrmann in the ER one day and you became friends. He was quite possibly the sweetest person you’d ever met. He was also the only one who knew your full past.

You weren’t always here in Chicago nor were you aware of your brothers, Will and Jay. Up until 9 months ago you didn’t know that they existed. You were an orphan, or at least that’s what you were always told and you had no reason to think otherwise. But sure enough, after a trip to Chicago and one freak accident that took you to the ER, you found them. Well one. Your older brother Will. How he found out, you still didn’t know but he did. Shortly after, you met Jay, who apparently is your twin brother.

You spent as much time with them as possible before leaving for your college graduation, promising to visit. Little did you know that they were coming back with you. You didn’t find out until they “dropped you off” at the airport the next day but with bags.

“You think we’d miss our little sister’s graduation?” Will asked smiling warmly.

"Seriously?" you asked, your face lighting up like a child's on Christmas morning.

Will chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Of course. We wouldn't miss it for the world."

As soon as your flight number was called, you all boarded the plane, excitement bubbling under the surface. You couldn't believe it. Just a week ago, you thought you'd be walking across the stage to receive your degree with no one in the crowd cheering for you. But now, you were going to have two people there, and not just anyone—your brothers.

As you settled into your seat, you glanced over at Will and Jay, who were chatting animatedly about the plans for the weekend. The reality of the situation finally hit you, and felt a smile creeping up your face. You'd spent so much of your life moving from place to place, rarely feeling like you truly belonged anywhere. But now, it felt like you finally did belong.

When the plane landed, you turned to your brothers with a smile. "I'll head home and change, and then I'll meet you both at the hotel with my husband," you said, still riding the high of excitement from the journey.

They nodded, and after a quick hug and a promise to catch up soon, you headed off towards your apartment. You didn’t live so far away, so you decided to walk. As you walked up the driveway, you noticed your husband's car was there. A small, happy smile crossed your face.

You unlocked the front door and stepped inside, calling out a cheerful greeting. "I'm home!"

But there was no response. The house was eerily quiet, and an uneasy feeling began to settle in your stomach. You walked through the hallway, your footsteps echoing in the silence. As you approached the bedroom door, you noticed it was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, your eyes widened in shock.

There, on the bed, was your husband—tangled up with another woman. It was almost too surreal to process at first; your mind struggled to comprehend what you were seeing. They both looked up, startled by your sudden entrance. Your husband quickly pulled away from the woman, but he didn't seem particularly shocked or apologetic. Instead, he simply stared at you. In fact, a look of mild annoyance was plastered on his face.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you—betrayal, anger, sadness. You felt like you had been punched in the gut. You'd been so excited to share your news with him, and now this?

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak. "I'll be back for my things," you said, your voice surprisingly steady despite earthquake of emotions rattling inside you. You didn't wait for a response. You turned on your heel and walked out, grabbing your car keys on the way out.

As you got into your car, your hands were trembling. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you wiped them away and started the engine. You drove to the hotel in a daze, trying to shake the image of your husband and the other woman from your mind. How you didn’t have an accident was beyond you.

Needless to say, they were furious when you showed up at their hotel room in tears. You had tried so hard to hold it together, but as soon as the elevator doors closed behind you, the dam broke. The tears came fast and hard, and you struggled to keep your sobs quiet as you rode up to their floor.

When you reached their room and knocked, Will opened the door, his smile fading instantly when he saw your tear-streaked face. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. The warmth of his embrace made you feel better, even if just for a moment.

Jay quickly crossed the space between you, "What happened?" he asked, his voice tense.

You tried to speak, but your voice caught in your throat. The pain was too raw, the words too painful. Instead, you just shook your head, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. Will held you tighter, his hand gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

"He... he was with someone else," you finally managed to choke out between sobs, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay's face turned red with anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "What?" he nearly shouted; his voice filled with fury. He took a step towards the door, clearly ready to confront your husband. "I'm gonna kill him," he muttered under his breath.

Will, still holding you close, turned to block Jay's path. "No, Jay," he said firmly, "This isn't the time. She needs us."

"I don't know what I'm going to do," you said, more tears streaming down your face as the realization hit you—you were now possibly homeless. You felt the weight of everything, slowly crushing you. But you needn’t worry about anything.

Jay offered you a place to stay and went back with you to collect the rest of your belongings. He was also there when you filed for divorce. Despite his assurances that he didn't mind you staying with him, you started looking for a place of your own. When you thought you had found one, Jay insisted it "wasn't safe enough" for you. So, almost nine months later, you’re still living with him. It had been a long time since you had a brother around, and you'd forgotten how much of a nuisance they could be—but you loved it.

You're now a nurse at Gaffney, the same hospital where Will works. While you love being near your brothers, the ER can be incredibly stressful, and when it gets overwhelming, you find yourself at Molly's, sitting on your usual barstool. Herrmann could tell just by the look on your face which usual you needed. You had two orders: one for a good day and one for a bad one. Clearly, today was the latter.

You smiled as the drink appeared in front of you. "Thanks, Hermie," you said, picking up the shot glass and downing it in one go, welcoming the familiar burn.

"No problem, kid," he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Wanna talk about it?" You shook your head, offering a grateful smile. He casually draped the towel over his shoulder and placed another drink in front of you, a glass of coke with double vodka, "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

You nodded once more as he moved to serve other patrons. You let your eyes leave their place on the glass and wander around the bar. Many people were regulars, in fact all of them were except for one.

He caught your eye immediately. He was quite possibly the hottest person you’d ever laid your eyes on. He was definitely older than you, by about 20 years but damn you didn’t care. His short, neatly trimmed hair was greying slightly but it only made him sexier. As you continue to admire him you could feel yourself being pulled from reality as your eyes trace his strong jawline. They then made their way further south to where the luckiest pieces of clothing hugs him. Especially the leather jacket. You love leather jackets. You’re not sure why but when they are wrapped around men like that, do you need a reason?

He must have felt your eyes on him because his flicked over to them. You quickly avert your eyes back to your glass, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks and you hope that it’s dark enough so no one can see.

You want to talk to him, but you feel you need some more liquid courage. You continued to drink your double vodka and coke and when you finished you signalled for a refill but just coke this time. You picked up the drink and made your way over to the man and sat beside him.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before,” you said, trying to make yourself sound like you weren’t completely freaking out on the inside.

“It’s not my usual place,” he replied with the deepest gravelly voice you had ever heard. You had to squeeze your thighs shut because of the effect it had on you.

Nevertheless, you try and ignore the feeling and held your hand out to him, “I’m (y/n)” you said with a small smile.

“Henry” he replied, placing his hand in yours. The rough skin on his fingertips felt good against your soft skin. You couldn’t help but think where else they’d feel good.

You both talked for a while as more people started to filter in. It started to get really loud and you wouldn’t mind going somewhere private with Henry. So you asked, “Hey, wanna go somewhere quieter,” you bite your lip hoping he says yes... And he does.

The drive to his was quiet, I left you to your thoughts. This wasn’t what you intended when you left the apartment tonight but hey apparently sex is a great stress reliever and you have a feeling you are about to be well taken care of.

You shoot Jay a quick text to let him know you are okay and as you press send you stopped. He’s a gentleman and opens the door for you and holds his hand out for you to take.

You take it and you get out of the car, following him into the house, his hand on the small of your back guiding you towards it.

The next few moments are a blur. As soon as the door shut, his mouth was on yours. The kiss started off tender but slowly got more passionate. You certainly weren’t complaining. He slowly guided you towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. You had no idea where in the house you were until the back of your legs hit the cool sheets. His hands moved from your face to the zipper on your dress pulling it down swiftly. He slid the small straps down your arms as you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. The dress dropped from your frame and pooled at your feet, leaving you in just your underwear. When you undid the last button, you slowly removed both the shirt and the leather jacket. You let your hands follow the garments until they landed on his belt. Your mouths were still attached. You could taste the whiskey on his tongue and he could taste the vodka on yours. You continue fumbling with his jeans until thy joined your dress. His hands glide down your body until they reach your ass, you moan as he gives them a firm squeeze before lifting you up.

He turned and sat on the bed, so you were straddling him. You could feel him beneath you and you couldn’t help but grind against him. When he groaned you felt your pussy yip as if it had just been shocked. Was anything this man did not sexy?

Your tongues continue to battle each other as your wet core rides his clothed hardness. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood only to remove your panties. He removed his boxers quickly before you climbed back on top of him, wasting no time sinking down on him.

“fuck* you breathed, the word falling from your lips as your head falls back.

His hands hold your shoulders, slamming you down harder on him. You were already seeing stars and you had barely started.

His lips attached themselves to your neck, licking and nibbling at the soft flesh. They then trailed lower towards your still covered breasts. He kissed the valley between but made no movement to take off the piece of fabric in his way. So you reached behind you and unclasped it, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.

He smirked against your skin taking one in his mouth, sucking hard on the sensitive nub, his hand played with the other, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. Then he switched, giving them equal attention.

Without warning, he stood up and chucked you onto the bed, leaving you feeling cold and empty. Your hand went to your clit to give you something as he climbed towards you. Eyes locked on you as if you were his prey.

His hand slowly runs up your thigh until it reaches your hand. He looks at you and you move your hand and rest it on your stomach. His hand replaces yours. Teasing you. One finger gliding through the lips, dipping it ever so slightly into your wet hole.

“Please” you whimpered as his fingers continue to tease you.

With a smirk, he enters you fully, making you arch off the bed. He starts to move in and out, your body begging for more. You can’t help but let out a low moan that echoes through the room.

“Oh, baby, you like that?” he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You nod your head, unable to form words as pleasure overtakes you.

He slammed into you, hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the darkness. You dig your nails into the bed, trying to hold on as he fucks you into oblivion.

You’re not sure how long it goes on, but you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

And just as you’re about to go over, he pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, pushing your legs apart. You know what’s coming next, and the few second wait is almost too much to handle. He slams into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you, over and over again.

You bite the pillow to muffle your screams as he takes you roughly, your body trembling with every thrust. You can feel yourself about to cum, and you know it’s going to be the best fucking orgasm of your life.

Finally, with one last, hard thrust, you do. Your orgasm rips through you like a tornado in a trailer park, leaving you a trembling mess on the bed. Henry follows shortly after, his own groan of pleasure muffled against your neck.

The two of you collapse onto the bed, both panting and sweaty. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath, before you feel him roll over and wrap an arm around you.

The next morning you open your eyes, and you don’t recognise your surroundings. Your eyes squeeze shut as the bright light burns them and you become aware of the arm draped across your bare waist. Its then you remember the events from last night and it wasn’t just an amazing dream.

As your mind replays the sex a tone begins to sound. You knew it wasn’t your phone. The arm removed itself from your body and the sound stopped shortly after.

You turned to look at him, “hi,” your voice is small and unsure. You hadn’t done anything like this before so you didn’t know the protocol.

“Hey... I uh... Got to get to work,” he said removing the covers and going to get changed, “I’ll take you to get your car,”

“Thank you,” you smiled as you grab your outfit off the floor and quickly threw it on. You got your phone out your bag and checked the time, “shit,”

“What’s wrong?” Henry asked turning around as he continued buttoning up his shirt.

“Nothing, just my brother might have left for work already and he hasn’t given me a spare key,” you groaned inwardly. You couldn’t show up at the hospital looking like this.

As soon as you both were ready, as promised, Henry took you back to Molly’s to get your car. Much to your disappointment, plans were not made to see each other again.

You got in your car and drove as fast as you could without breaking the law but when you got there it was indeed too late. Jay had already gone to work. You got back in your car and headed to his workplace. What a first impression you were going to make. You haven’t met any of Jay’s colleagues and dressed in last night’s outfit and possibly smelling like sex.

You took a deep breath as you walked through the doors and up the steps to find a huge desk in front of you. You watched as the woman gave a sarcastic reply to a couple of patrol officers and you tried to stifle a laugh but failed. Her eyes flashed over to you, “Can I help you?” she asked in a tone that would probably send the uniforms running but you just give her your sweetest smile.

“I’m looking for my brother, Jay Halstead,”

“Oh, so you’re the mini-Halstead,” she said with the same tone, “Lets hope you aren’t like the other two,”

“Well, I’m a female,” you shrugged “Thats a difference,”

She pointed to another set of stairs leading up to a gate, “He’s up there,” she said resting her hand on the button waiting to buzz you in.

As soon as you hear it buzz, you open the gate and head up the rest of the steps. Jay spotted you before you got to the top.

“Look who decided to show up,” he called out. Everyone in the room turned to look at you and you kinda felt a little exposed. They probably thought you were a prostitute or something.

“Jay, I don’t have time for this,” you said walking over to his desk, your palm held out ready to receive the keys, “I’ve got to go to work,”

He fished the keys from his pocket and tossed them up in the air, a smug grin on his face, “Come home at a reasonable time then,”

“Or you could have gotten me a key cut, asshole,” you said rolling your eyes as you put the keys in your bag. When you looked back at your brother, he was looking at you funny, “What?”

“Where did you get that jacket?” he asked pointing to the leather jacket Henry gave you. You had forgotten you were wearing it.

You shrugged, “Just a friend,” you replied nonchalantly. Jay went to say something else when a voice spoke from behind you. A familiar one. You turned and sure enough, there he was, “Henry?”

It didn’t take a detective to connect the dots. You had slept with your brother’s boss. You hadn’t meant to. You had no idea who he was. But the thing is... You want to do it again. You want to fuck him again.

[A/N 2.0] Part 2?

[heeseungiez]

RESOLUTION 1) actually enjoy a party...

pairings! lee heeseung x fem!reader, choi yeonjun x fem!reader briefly

synopsis! lee heeseung has known you your whole life. he has always kept you at an arm’s length due to his childhood pettiness after being forced to spend time with you as kids. but now that you were back in town, going to school again, he finds his resolve to dislike you at all costs crumbling between his fingers. as if it hadn’t always been chipping away throughout the years.

content warnings! smut (mdni! 18+), swearing, mentions of bullying, joking about past trauma to cope, angst, jealousy, kissing, fingering etc.

word count! ~5.4k

taglist! OPEN! @strxwbloody @starsenha

a/n! first two chapters are written so i think it's fair to post this... feel free to let me know what you think! i actually don't usually write smut so um... yeah

masterlist | next

Good morning, Decelis! Guess who’s back?

And no, I’m not talking about myself at the moment, but rather, a princess of a successful empire, and our beloved black sheep of the school. It’s quite ironic, isn’t it? In a place where money is power, she has none despite the billions she’s meant to inherit. Poor girl, wouldn’t you say?

But rumours have it that our princess is back from her prolonged summer break abroad, and she’s different than we remember.

It seems that the good girl image has been thrown to the wolves, and the princess is back with a bite of her own.

I’m most definitely looking forward to what this year brings us.

XO, Miss Decelis

You put down your phone with a grin, having read the Twitter post from your school’s infamous gossip blog. Very clearly inspired by Gossip Girl, it was the talk of Decelis Academy when the first post appeared out of nowhere, featuring a very, very popular boy from the upper year, calling out his blatant cheating on his incredibly attractive, and notoriously vengeful girlfriend.

This was the first time Miss Decelis had something nice to say about you, and you were currently hoping to milk the pity points for what happened last year. You were tired from the constant jabs at your lack of social skills and neverending embarrassment, making it known to all of your peers that you couldn’t do anything right.

Everything was different now. At least for you, things have changed since your trip to the USA, if you could even call it that. Since most of what you saw was the best rated rehabilitation centre in the world, trying to get your legs to work properly again after the incident that happened last year. (Good news: they succeeded.)

Who would’ve thought that pushing you into a pool at a party could cause such damage to your body? Your muscles tore with the abruptness of everything, your ankle catching on the edge of the pool and you found yourself paralysed from the waist down at the bottom of the pool afterwards, nearly drowning because people, for some reason, thought you were being dramatic for the sake of it. 

Your best friend, Lee Jeonghyeon, pulled you out once he found out what happened. And when you told him you couldn’t feel your legs, one of which was horribly bent and bruising, he screamed his lungs out to get someone to call you an ambulance. It was safe to say the party ended quickly afterwards.

You had to get surgery in the country, and then your parents decided it would be best for you to have your rehabilitation elsewhere. Far away from Decelis Academy. Since it happened a month before the term would’ve ended, you still had to do homework and assignments to finish your sophomore year, but at least it wasn’t around the people that ostracised you for whatever reason.

Originally, you were supposed to change schools. But the Decelis principal expelled the group that caused your injury because it was found out that (although you tried to keep it a secret for as long as possible) they had been bullying you for years. So yeah, you were back home and still attending Decelis Academy. 

You completely blocked out anything that was said between your father and the principal as they spoke in the office with you sitting on a chair behind them. It was business that you weren’t interested in, and they were mostly trying to figure out how to protect you from stuff like last year happening again. Yawning, you stretched your arms, wishing you could be in class instead.

“She will be monitored, in case something else were to happen, although I trust your daughter’s rehabilitation went without much as a single snatch.” The principal glanced at you while speaking to your father, his respect showing in his eyes, his straight posture and the voice in which he addressed the man standing before him.

Your father nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. If there are any issues, please let me know. And let everyone at the board as well as the parents know that anyone who will dare lay a finger on my daughter again will be sued for their entire fortune. The acts of her bullies were not harmless, and even if what happened was an accident, it was done with malicious intent.”

Well, that was exactly why you tried to keep the bullying a secret. But what’s done is done. You just wanted to get out of the principal’s office. 

“Good. There are more things we must discuss, but—”

You knew what that phrasing meant, already standing up with a smile. “I’ll go find my next class,” you said, cutting off your father. “Thanks for all the care and stuff, I’ll try to keep myself out of trouble and from, you know, looking weak and bully-able, whatever.”

Pretending not to care has become so easy for you lately that you internally cringed, seeing the pitying looks on the faces of both your father and the principal. You mostly ignored it. 

“Goodbye, Mr Jung. See you later, dad.”

But you didn’t leave the principal’s office until after receiving a kiss on your temple from your father, a sweet gesture to remind you that you were loved — at least by your parents. 

Lee Heeseung had known you his whole life. The two of you had known each other even before you were conceived, he’d say, and that annoyed him about you. That you were in every part of his life. Every memory, good and bad, every single one of his thoughts. Gods, you even lived in the same building as he did. So, you were always there, like a ghost haunting him for a mistake in his past life. So he avoided you whenever he could, unless it was necessary for him to be in your presence. Which was usually during any family functions because if the Lee family organised an event, then yours was the first on the list of invited guests. And if your family did, then his family was expected to show up no matter what.

Before Heeseung met Jay and Jake, it had always only been the two of you. So when you were children, he made sure to especially tease you, like pulling at your hair or eating the last cookie. It was his way of making sure you would stay away from him whenever he was with his other friends (none were people he really cared about, and although he still spoke to some of them, those friendships were distant memories). But he thought you were too much of a girl for him. While you played with dolls, he wanted to play with cars, and he was not going to let you rope him into role playing Barbie and Ken with you just because your face was cute with how round and rosy it was.

Then the two of you entered middle school at Decelis Academy, and Heeseung met Park Jay and Sim Jake. Both boys were from prominent families, and the friendship between the three helped all their companies bloom even more. But, of course, yours was always included as well.

It was only his luck that his cousin, Lee Jeonghyeon, moved in with him and his parents to attend Decelis Academy too. Which meant that you found a new friend, someone who actually wanted to hang out with you, while Heeseung was free to do whatever he wanted with his friends. And still, you never stopped trying to keep the conditions between you all amiable, even when they, especially Heeseung and Jay, were rude and dismissive of you.

Today, you strutted into Sociology class without as much as an apology to the teacher (a complete 180° from what you would’ve done last year) and went to sit down in the first available spot at the back of the class, which happened to be next to Heeseung. He rolled his eyes, debating whether he should push you off the chair because he’d fought really hard to keep the spot free. But when his eyes fell on your figure, he had a hard time peeling them off.

Miss Decelis was right. There was something different about you.

Normally, you would’ve sat at the front of the class. Not just because you were a teacher’s pet, but also because you used to wear glasses and it was better for your vision to be at the front. Your glasses were gone, though.

You didn’t as much as glance at Heeseung as you sat down, not even gracing him with your acknowledgement despite sitting next to him. You used to do everything in your power to get his attention (which he thought was cute but that made him dislike you more) because you thought you two should get along as your families worked so closely together, not to mention you lived in a penthouse at his family’s hotel, the same one he lived in.

He shuffled in his seat to sit straighter, leaning on the desk in an attempt to get you to look at him. But you didn’t. So he stared at you intently, noticing every detail about this new you that was back from America.

Your hair was cut shorter, messier, and framed your face perfectly as opposed to the girlish bangs you used to have. Even your makeup was bolder, wings lining your eyes, accentuating their shape. No longer were you following the country’s beauty trends, and it suited you more.

So he continued staring at you even when you opened your textbook and started taking notes with the teacher speaking in the background. He didn’t care for the class much, especially because he could buy notes off of someone from the upper year and then spend a fortnight cramming before an exam and still pass with top-performing grades.

You ignored Heeseung for as long as you could until it became unbearably uncomfortable to have his eyes permanently stuck to you. The way you interpreted the look, it made you feel like you were a fly he was watching to later swat once the perfect moment appeared. An indignant huff left your lips as you spoke: “Do you want to lose your eyes?” Your brow rose, but you did not look at him. Even as you gripped your pen tighter, truly considering putting it to a use much different than what it’s intended for.

The corner of Heeseung’s mouth rose in a silent victory because you finally decided to acknowledge him. “You could try, but I doubt you’d get away with it,” he replied. 

“I would,” you mumbled. “I’d get out of it unscathed because of my current frail mental state and my pity points with the principal.” Despite the lie, you spoke matter-of-factly. “So don’t test me.”

“So you’re saying you’ve gone crazy?”

“Perhaps.”

“Is it enough to go to a party this weekend?” Heeseung asked sweetly, leaning closer to you, but it was him who ended up disconcerted when you turned your head. Your noses touched, and you pushed him away by poking his chest. 

“You’re really asking me to go to a party after what happened last time?”

“Nobody’s gonna try to hurt you if you’re with me,” Heeseung said with certainty, but you squinted your eyes at the statement. For two reasons in total. One, he was among the most popular guys at Decelis Academy, so going with him meant antagonising at least half of the school; and two, why was he asking you to go to the party with him?

“Of all the people at this school, your pity is the one I need the least,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “We’ve never been friends before, Heeseung, so let’s not pretend we are friends now.”

Heeseung furrowed his brows at you. “This isn’t about pity—”

“What else would it be about? You don’t like me, and I’m tired, okay? I get it, and I’m not gonna bother your stupid I’m-better-than-thou self anymore. You were right, Heeseung. Just because our families are close, we don’t need to be.” You shut him up, turning away from him to bring your attention back to the lecture.

Heeseung gaped at you, blinking a few times to comprehend your rejection properly. But this was never about pity. It was about your attention, and how much he wanted to have it now that you were back.

But he couldn’t exactly tell you that he missed your stupid little face whenever there was a family function during the summer, could he? You were the girl he knew since the day you were born, and the last thing he wanted to face was the simple fact that he didn’t, in fact, dislike you. 

Despite rejecting Heeseung’s offer to go with him, you did turn up to the party. It was easy to find out that Yang Jeongin was throwing one alongside Seo Changbin, since it seemed that Changbin’s family was away on a business trip. So you dressed up and went to the Seo family mansion with Jeonghyeon, your best friend and neighbour, and Park Hanbin at your side. 

The dress you wore today was thin and far more revealing than what you would’ve worn last year, but this was all a part of your plan for this following year. You had a bunch of resolutions for your junior year and onward that you wanted to fulfil as fast as possible, all of which would help you live a life worthy of being spoken about on Miss Decelis, rather than being constantly humiliated by your lack of… living.

Today, Miss Decelis reported on seeing Park Jay and his new fling — an older woman possibly twice his age — leaving a motel together. That was the kind of life you wanted to lead, instead of the perfect princess with a spotless past who didn’t even fight back against her bullies.

So the first resolution you had was to attend a party and actually enjoy being there. In the past, you always attended because your friends would. Since you didn’t drink, you were the person who looked after everyone.

“Look, Ning and Winter are there,” Hanbin pointed toward the two girls, and you grinned, making your way toward them.

“Hi!” you greeted them.

“Hey, girl! You look scrumptious,” Ning remarked, eyeing your outfit with a smirk. “I’m really liking this new you. Are you trying to get on Miss Decelis tonight or what?”

You shrugged, a hint of a smile on your lips. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt. As long as it’s not something commemorating what happened to me at my last party, or… anything before, really.”

“It’s been shit these past few years,” said Winter, earning hums of agreement. “I’d rather never appear on Miss Decelis unless she has something good to say. I mean, we’re not even men, so we can’t just walk around like everything is fine after hooking up with someone the age of our mother…” Winter rolled her eyes, referencing the last post about Jay.

“Lucky you, then. Miss Decelis has never said anything bad about you. At least not something that wasn’t true,” you said matter-of-factly, well versed in the posts of the gossip monger. Although, in your opinion, Winter led an exciting life, it was never out of line enough to be reported on.

Winter giggled. “True.”

“And Jeonghyeon is a beloved hero now,” you added with a nod toward your best friend. It was a bit of a stretch, but he was viewed as someone swoon-worthy after pulling you out of the pool and saving your life. Miss Decelis surely made it sound like it before last school year ended.

He frowned, not liking the reminder of what had happened. It affected him more than you, clearly, the idea of losing you over someone thinking that pushing you into a pool would be a harmless enough prank. You shouldn’t be joking about it, yet it was your coping mechanism. The more jokes you made, the less real it became, and the less it hurt. 

“I’m never leaving your side,” he grumbled, interlocking your arm with his.

“Please do,” you said, trying to shake him off, but he didn’t let go. “Hyeon, I’ll be fine. I’m serious.” You glared at him, yanking your arm from his grip the more he tried to keep you in place.

“Dude, let her go.” It was Hanbin who spoke, sensing your discomfort. “We’re all worried for her, but this isn’t doing her any favours.”

Ning and Winter nodded as well. “We’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” they said, but it was hard to keep a promise when all of you planned to drink the night away.

Two hours in, you were already spent and dizzy. But you were giggling, and couldn’t say that you weren’t enjoying yourself. Especially the attention you got from people who couldn’t stop staring at you and the piece of fabric that mostly covered only your important parts.

A year ago, you were weighed down by the chains of responsibility, drowning you the same way the water had at the bottom of the pool. You couldn’t even allow yourself to enjoy the smallest things back then in fear of being judged. This time, if someone bullies you, you will be sure to hit back. And you’re going to hit back hard.

The sofa dipped with a new weight upon it, and you turned to face a familiar face. Someone you had come across in America a few times and had pleasant interactions with (if you could call it that).

Choi Yeonjun looked magnificent even with his cheeks flushed red, his hair dishevelled and eyes dazed. His pouty lips were captured in between his teeth, and you grinned at him when he cuddled up to you. “Hello,” he mumbled against the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Hey.” You shifted in your seat, simply to make both of you rest comfortably on the sofa. “Haven’t seen your face in a while,” you said, and he hummed, looking into your eyes.

“You took my advice,” he remarked, and you knew what he meant by it. 

The change of your hairstyle, your general clothing preferences and view of life wasn’t just something you came up with on your own. Because when you had seen Yeonjun the last time, before he had to leave, he told you that you should live your life a little. Stop pretending to be perfect, and start being your authentic self — the version of you he had met in the States. The version of you that you wanted to be rather than a version that society wanted you to be. 

“Very wise advice,” you agreed with a grin.

“I always know what’s up,” he grinned back at you, his arms snaking around your waist, seeking the warmth of your body in the most innocent way possible, though it could be easily misinterpreted. But you and Yeonjun were friends (question mark?). 

Friends who may have kissed, but friends regardless. 

“Where’s your friends?” you asked Yeonjun, running your hand through his hair to tame it. It was surprisingly soft, but that was perhaps a perk of expensive hair care. 

“Playing beer-pong,” he answered, purring like a cat as you continued playing with his hair. “Taehyun is playing against Soobin, Beomgyu and Kai, trying to get the three of them drunk, since they actually suck ass at beer pong.” You yelped when Yeonjun moved suddenly to lift your legs and put them over his lap. “I was supposed to be on Taehyun’s team but it was more fair without me.”

“That bad?” You could barely breathe with how close Yeonjun was to you. In your mind, you two were friends, but you didn’t actually know how he viewed you. You were never adept at interacting with guys beyond the realm of platonic relationships.

Yeonjun hummed. “I don’t like feeling left out but… I guess I wouldn’t have known you’re here otherwise.”

“Well, there is a lot of people. And this is a huge house,” you said breathlessly when Yeonjun’s hands slipped underneath your dress through the back, caressing your skin with tenderness you had only read about before.

Had you mentioned your second resolution of the year earlier? The fact that you wanted to lose your virginity?

Choi Yeonjun seemed like the perfect candidate for making it happen. But you also couldn’t deny the fact that you were drunk, and he was probably even worse off.

Still, you couldn’t resist the urge to slip your hands beneath his loose T-shirt, exploring his toned stomach. You were sure he had once boasted to you about having his own gym at home. 

Yeonjun looked up at you with his eyes open wide, and his pupils dilated. 

It was you who asked, “Can I kiss you?” But it was him who closed the distance between the two of you, Yeonjun’s mouth expertly dancing alongside yours. 

This kiss was different to the ones you shared in America. Those were small, fleeting kisses stolen in moments of peace, where the both of you wanted to sear the memories into your brains. But this kiss was hungry, full of heat you’ve never let yourself feel before. Yeonjun grabbed at every part of you in an attempt to bring you closer, while you let him, well aware that everyone could see you, but you didn’t care. Not anymore, anyway.

It was his advice you were following, after all.

“Yeonjun,” you spoke, trying to catch your breath. 

“Yeah?” The boy was merciful enough to let you breathe, choosing to attack your neck instead, leaving sloppy kisses along the sensitive skin. You moaned when he bit an especially tender spot, and he smirked against your skin. 

“I need—” 

Yeonjun silenced you with his lips on yours, not letting you finish the sentence. Instead, his hand moved up your thigh, massaging a spot not close enough to where you really wanted his hand to be. “Not here, darling,” he whispered in your ear before helping you stand up.

Taking your hand, Yeonjun knew exactly where the two of you would need to go to get some well-earned privacy. If it wasn’t for the storm of a person right in front of you with his arms folded across his chest, nearly fuming. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” The question wasn’t aimed at you. As if you didn’t have a mind of your own and you weren’t capable of making your own decisions.

Yeonjun glanced between you and the tall boy who stepped in your way. “That’s the guy who’s been ignoring you your whole life, right?” he said, knowing that the comment hurt Heeseung more than it did you. Because while you came to terms with it, Heeseung was just starting to feel guilty about it. He bristled, not liking that Yeonjun even knew this much about you.

“Get out of the way, Heeseung,” you said evenly, though anger easily washed over you. How dare he, the well-known fuck boy of Decelis Academy, cockblock you?

“No.” Heeseung shook his head, grabbing your hand.

You didn’t even realise it when he pulled you to himself and started dragging you away from Yeonjun. By the time you tried to fight him on it, you were losing Yeonjun in the crowd, and Heeseung’s grip on you was strong enough to bruise, so attempting to get out of his grasp would do more harm than good.

“Are you crazy? What the fuck are you doing? Heeseung!” you shouted over the music as he dragged you through the mansion like a doll until the both of you were out of the house, at the empty front yard. “Heeseung!”

He didn’t respond to you until he opened the door to a car that was not his, but he had access to it. He practically pushed you inside the vehicle without as much as a word, trapping you inside with him.

“What’s your fucking problem?” you spat venomously, facing him in the back of the car. It was dark and you could barely see anything besides the outline of Heeseung’s figure. A very tall and attractive figure with broad shoulders that, because of your moment with Yeonjun, made you think things you should not be having about Lee Heeseung.

“Are you insane? Hooking up with Choi Yeonjun?” He finally spoke up. His voice was deeper, a near growl, and you scoffed at his hypocrisy.

“So what? I like him,” you said, crossing your arms. “I’m not the same person I used to be and I’m not going back. So whatever your deal is, leave me the fuck out.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched as he stared at you, completely oblivious to the unreasonable amounts of jealousy rushing through his system. He, of all people, should care about who you hook up with the least, and yet here he was, having trapped you inside Sunghoon’s car to keep you away from Yeonjun, who clearly wanted to take everything you had to offer. He had watched you from a distance, longer than he should’ve, and he hated the way he wished to be in Yeonjun’s place.

“I was the one who told you about this party.” He glared at you, and your stupidly attractive face, incapable of deciding whether doing this was a good idea or not. Because he didn’t just trap you with him. He trapped himself with you.

“So what? I just wanted to enjoy myself for once, for fuck’s sake. Is that such a crime?” You reciprocated Heeseung’s glare, your cheeks flushed and body hot despite the chilly temperature inside the car. You wanted to jump him. Whether to kill him or to finally have your brains fucked out of you, you weren’t sure.

“Yes, yes it is,” Heeseung replied, licking his lips. “Because it’s not with me.”

The latter.

It was most certainly the latter.

The hate coursing through you charged your oncoming actions, and you cupped Heeseung’s cheeks in your hands, bringing his plush lips to yours, making him the second guy you’ve kissed, ever, and the second guy today. It occurred to you that you really did not even care who you lost your virginity to.

Heeseung was as good as anyone else.

A part of you didn’t expect him to kiss you back, but you were pleasantly surprised when he did, his hands moving to your waist. Bringing you closer to him, he let his hands wander further than Yeonjun’s did, swallowing the gasp that left your lips as he swiped his fingers across your clothed and very wet cunt. It drove him crazy, not knowing whether it was him who had that effect on you, or if it had been Yeonjun, but he’d do better not to dwell on it. 

Heeseung was going to be the one ultimately helping you enjoy yourself. He would make sure of it, claiming the moment for himself. Claiming you for himself because he couldn’t bear the thought of you vying for anyone’s attention but his.

It had always been you and him. You were his as much as he was yours, no matter how much he had fought the fact in the past. 

Pushing the clothing piece aside, he let his thumb slide across your clit, driving a moan out of you. Heat enveloped you with the sudden rush of pleasure, your back arching to give him better access. Your hands raked through Heeseung’s hair as his mouth travelled to your throat, kissing all the same spots Yeonjun had earlier, except unlike Yeonjun, Heeseung sucked on the spots with enough fervour to mark, knowing you would have to spend weeks covering those up.

Heeseung’s thumb circled your clit, enjoying every single sound that left your mouth, including the hazed “Heeseung, yes,” and “Heeseung, please.” Until he pushed his fingers between your folds, trying to find the spot that would drive you over the edge. He had no idea how addictive it would be to hear you whispering his name like a prayer to a God, but here he was, listening to it all.

He curled his fingers when he found it, and you cried out his name, which died on your lips as he kissed you again, fingers still pumping in and out of you. 

“Heeseung, oh my god,” you murmured against his lips as he assuredly drove you to your climax. Heat pooled through your tummy in the most delicious way possible, and you moved your hips in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers while he kept attacking your clit with the circular movements of his thumb.

“Yeah, princess, just let it out,” Heeseung said huskily, using the pet name that was usually reserved for his taunts rather than this. “You make the sweetest sounds,” he whispered in your ear, latching his lips onto your collarbone. A strap of your dress fell, partially revealing your breasts. Something that Heeseung took advantage of, his lips wandering lower.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so—” close, you wanted to say, but an entirely different sound — one that Heeseung wanted to bottle up and listen to forever — left your mouth when you felt Heeseung’s warm mouth around one of your nipples. 

“Fuck, Hee!” you screamed, your body trembling as you finally reached your climax, cumming all over Heeseung’s fingers. He continued his movements even as you rode out your high, and when he wanted to kiss you again, he took a moment to appreciate the relaxed look on your face. Something very rare from a person who used to forbid themselves from having fun.

See, Heeseung didn’t dislike you.

He just liked you more than he wanted to admit.

The sound of the car's unlocking beep pulled the two of you apart, much to both your discontent. But it wasn’t hard to school your expression back into one of hatred as you looked back at Heeseung while his friends filed inside the car. You crossed your arms and legs, turning away from him.

“We’re taking you home, apparently,” said Park Sunghoon with a smile on his face because he’d always been the one guy in the group who genuinely seemed to get along with you. He was the designated driver, but you guessed that had something to do with him being an athlete on a scholarship. 

Park Jay took the passenger seat next to Sunghoon, and when Sim Jake got inside, he made you sit in the middle between him and Heeseung. You were glad you could blame the flush on your cheeks on alcohol. 

“Hey, Y/N, I had no clue you were at the party!” Jake’s bright voice forced you to look at him. His blond hair was styled out of his face, and you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. You still wondered if he had dyed it over the summer because of a dare, or simply because he wanted to.

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s a good thing,” you mumbled, trying to make yourself smaller as you felt Heeseung’s heat against your skin. “Means nobody tried to drown me in the pool or anything.”

“Don’t fucking joke about that, Y/N.” Jay’s sharp voice cut through the air like a knife, making you straighten in your seat, your eyes wide in surprise.

“Why can’t I? You don’t even care.” You rolled your eyes, and Jay turned in his seat to look at you, his eyes scrutinising every part of you. Clearly, he didn’t expect to see what he did, and his gaze went back to the front of the car in an instant. 

“Whatever,” he said.

“Your strap is falling off,” Heeseung whispered in your ear.

“Who did that?” Jake added as well, pointing at the marks on your neck that were starting to colour. 

And you bashfully corrected your dress, looking away from Heeseung. “It was Yeonjun,” you lied easily, feeling Heeseung tense next to you.

“Ah, so that’s why we’re taking you home…” Sunghoon spoke knowingly, when in reality, he didn’t know anything. 

“Yeah. That’s why,” you echoed.

Good morning, Decelis! 

It seems a lot has happened this weekend. I heard that our little princess has truly begun evolving! Like a caterpillar finally turning into a butterfly.

Rumours have it, she got freaky on Seo Changbin’s sofa with none other than Choi Yeonjun. 

Or are those considered rumours if there’s video proof?

XO, Miss Decelis

[ahonice]

just friends

nico hischier x fem reader

word count: 10.9k (the longest fic i’ve ever written i’m so sorry)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy and mentions of unprotected sex, cursing, the word climax, a little angsty, if i forgot anything lmk.

note: i started this on september 1st, this actually took forever. ANYWAYS hope y’all enjoy lmk if you love it, if you hate it, any feedback in general is appreciated!! love y’all babes <3

+++

it was an accident.

you and nico had been in a casual friends with benefits relationship for about a year and a half, having known each other for three years in total, when it happened.

you and nico were being stupid one night. after a few too many drinks, and no condoms to be found anywhere in your apartment, you and nico fucked without protection. 

you were on birth control and nico had pulled out, well he did halfway through his climax.

you didn’t think anything when you didn’t get your period the following month or the two months after that, you hadn’t had a period in four years thanks to your birth control. 

for weeks you thought you were just bloated, maybe you had been eating too much lately. you were much hungrier these past couple of weeks, it made sense.

it wasn’t until you threw up eleven times in one week before ten in the morning that you grew suspicious and worried at the possibility of you being pregnant. 

you stopped by the drug store on your way home from work and panic bought nine different pregnancy tests. 

you drank seven things of water during the day and took no bathroom breaks in preparation for this moment, and you had never been so scared to get test results back.

positive. every single one of them.

you felt faint, like the walls of your tiny studio apartment were caving in on you. 

you couldn’t have a baby, you couldn’t be a mother, it just couldn’t happen.

+++

the first thing you had to do was tell nico.

you and nico weren’t exclusive, and while he probably has his fair share of hookups, you did not. he was the only possible candidate for the father. 

nico was currently three days into an eight day road trip, and as much as you wanted to just get it over with, you knew this is not the type of bombshell to be dropped via snapchat or imessage, considering you two only used imessage to play game pigeon and the nature of your saved snaps was not welcome to an “i’m pregnant and you’re the father” chat.

you decided to just text him that you needed to talk when he got back.

to: nico (hookup)

hey lmk when you’re back in newark, we need to talk.

from: nico (hookup)

oh? 

from: nico (hookup)

everything okay?

to: nico (hookup)

not quite sure yet.

+++

five days later you found yourself at nico’s door, nine positive pregnancy tests in a ziploc bag in your purse. you were shaking, you don’t think you had ever been this nervous in your entire life.

nico opened up the door with a wide smile. you didn’t know what face you were making, but it was enough to make nico’s face fall and worry come through his tone of voice.

“y/n? what’s wrong?”

you didn’t even register his words, you just moved past him into his apartment and sat down on his couch.

“y/n?”

“i’m pregnant.”

the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

nico sat there frozen on the loveseat as you pulled the pregnancy tests out of your purse.

around three minutes later you pulled your phone out and opened up some home makeover game, nico was still frozen.

“-oh and you’re the father but you probably already know that.”

+++

it was around four minutes later when nico finally opened up his mouth to speak.

“what are you going to do?”

his question made me a little angry, yes he wasn’t entirely at fault, but he could’ve at least taken

a little responsibility and said “we” instead of “you”.

“i don’t know yet, i have an appointment with an obgyn on saturday. i’ll learn about my options there.”

“what time?” nico asked, opening up his phone calendar.

“10:30.” you knew that nico had practice at that time because it was a game day. “you have practice, i’ll just let you know what i decide to do.”

“this is my child too, i want to be a part of the decision making.”

“well you’re not going to be the one taking care of them, i am.”

“what makes you think that? i mean obviously i will be on the road at times during the season, but when we’re on homestands and since we’ll be married we’ll have the off season together-”

“woah take a girl out to dinner before you propose nico.” you interrupted. “we aren’t getting married…” “we’ve done a whole lot more than just dinner, and yes we are? how are we supposed to raise this baby together if we aren’t together.”

“have you ever heard of co-parenting? -also who says i’m keeping it, i haven’t made my decision yet.” you get up from your spot on his couch. “look i have to go, i’ll tell you about my appointment tomorrow.”

nico let out a heavy sigh. “don’t make any decisions without me.”

+++

“y/n?” 

you looked up at the nurse who was holding the door open with their body and walked up to greet her, your knees slightly wobbling from the nerves running through you.

“please follow me into room two, i’m just gonna get your vitals.”

you stayed silent as she took your blood pressure and checked your reflexes, you had to take a moment to calm yourself down after you saw your weight, you had freaked out before you remembered that there was currently another being inside of you.

“alright your vitals look good.” the nurse spoke before exiting the room. “follow me into this room, you can go ahead and take a seat on the bed in the center of the room. the doctor should be in shortly.”

you nodded and thanked her before she exited and you took a look around the room, taking a few mirror selfies to send to the family group chat. you had told all of your immediate relatives over facetime on your way back from nico’s yesterday, the news was received better than you had planned so you couldn’t say anything about your mom’s comments on being a grandmother, she made it very clear she was on team “keep the baby and be a badass single mom in the city”.

you sat on the bed/chair thing, ripping the paper instantly as you tried to get comfortable.

you took your eyes off your phone as you heard a series of knocks.

“miss y/n?”

“yes, that’s me.”

“hi, i’m dr.swarn i’ll be assisting you today. is this your first ultrasound?” the middle aged woman asked.

“yes it is.”

“and do you know how far along you are?”

“i’m assuming three to four months…i just found out yesterday…”

“well we will find out today.” the doctor began getting the sonograph ready as you attempted to mentally prepare yourself. “-and i have to ask…the father, is he in the picture?”

“he is, but it’s complicated…we aren’t together.”

the doctor simply nodded before asking you to lift up your shirt and warning you that the gel might be cold.

after a few moments, a grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, dr. swarn pointing things out. “-and this is your baby! it is a couple weeks too early to figure out the gender, so i would estimate that you are about four months pregnant.” 

you didn’t really focus on anything she said though, all your attention was on that tiny blob.

“do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

as dr.swarn began to turn up the volume the door swung open.

a very out of breath and sweaty nico stood in the door frame, bent over catching his breath.

“sorry i’m late!” nico walked up towards where you were lying on the table and smiled up at the doctor. “i’m the father.”

dr.swarn smiled at him before speaking. “well you made it just in time, we were just about to listen to the heartbeat.”

she had the screen turned towards her so nico had yet to see the baby. “this is your baby-” dr.swarn turned the screen back towards you and nico. “and this is their heartbeat.”

it was like everything around you had disappeared and all you knew was the image of your baby and the sound of their heartbeat. nico grabbed your hand and effectively pulled you out of the trance you were in.

“would you like me to discuss your options with you?” dr.swarn asked, turning the heartbeat down.

“no, i’m keeping it.”

+++

you got a recording of the heartbeat and got a couple prints of the ultrasound before exiting the doctors office, nico getting the same things as you.

“so you’re actually gonna keep it?” nico asked once he had walked you to your car.

“yes i am, and i don’t expect you to be involved at all if you don’t want to…i can do this on my own.”

“well you won’t have to.” nico started. “move into my apartment.”

you sighed, but nico spoke again before you could. “look we don’t have to get married right away, just move in…we will see how things go from there.”

“nico- i’m not moving in with you, i am perfectly fine living in my apartment and so is the baby.” you didn’t mean for your tone to come off so harsh, well you did a little bit, but you didn’t want nico thinking that you would be getting together just because of your child together. “look nico, i know that you believe that to raise a child the mother and father need to be together but i don’t and i don’t want to be with someone just because people think we have to. i will not be having a shotgun wedding.”

“what is a shotgun wedding?”

“-it does matter. we are not getting together nico.” you got into the driver's seat of your car. “i don’t really know how this co-parenting shit works, and i’m assuming you don’t either so let’s just make sure to be patient with one another, okay?”

nico nodded before you said your goodbyes and drove off in the direction of your apartment.

+++

around two weeks later as you sat in your little cubicle your phone started ringing.

nico (hookup)

you sighed and saved the progress on your current project before picking up the phone.

“hello?”

“hey, are you home right now?”

“no, it’s two in the afternoon on a thursday. i’m at work.”

“oh i didn’t think you would work while pregnant…” “i need to fund this child’s life somehow.”

there was an awkward silence for a few moments before you spoke up again.

“did you need something nico?”

“well i called to ask if you would like to come over for dinner tonight.”

“what are you making? because i don’t mean to sound rude, but this child doesn’t like anything i cook and you’re much worse than me.”

“hey i’m not that bad!” you both chuckle before nico speaks again. “is there anything you’re craving right now?”

“jiggly cheesecake and that gouda mac n cheese with sausage i got when we went to new york two years ago.”

“okay i can’t make any of that.”

“just make whatever you want, i’ll force it down if the baby doesn’t like it. what time should i come over?”

“5:30?”

“okay, i’ll just come straight from work.”

you said your goodbyes before you go back to your work.

+++ 

once the clock struck 4:45 you called it a day and headed out to your car before driving to nico’s apartment.

you knocked on the door, a tad bit confused because you heard multiple voices on the other side of the door, if it wasn’t for the welcome mat on the outside that you had forced nico to get you would’ve thought you were at the wrong door.

“hey.” nico opened the door, the voices only getting louder.

“hey…are other people joining us…?” you asked, looking around his apartment confused.

“yeah i probably should've mentioned-”

nico had begun to speak, but a voice that you knew as nico’s mother. “is y/n here!?” soon you saw her smiling faces coming towards you with open arms. “oh come here, it’s been too long sweetie!”

god bless your work bag that seemed to span to five feet because it was hiding your baby bump that was very noticeable in your blouse.

“hello mrs.hischier, how are you?” you asked politely, but you were really wanting to strangle nico right now.

“i’m great! luca and nina are here too!”

“oh that’s great! i’ll go see them in a second, i just need to talk to nico really quickly.”

you smiled as she walked away before turning to nico and gave him a swift slap on the backside of his head. “are you crazy!? did you just ambush a pregnancy announcement on me!?”

“look, i know this probably wasn’t the best way to approach this, but my family needs to know.”

“i am fully aware of that, but this is something that you plan out, not something you spring on a pregnant woman!”

“i’m sorry! just- let’s go into the living room, nina really misses you.”

you had met nico’s family multiple times before and were especially close with his sister nina, she was the only one who knew of you and nico’s odd relationship and was the number one supporter of you two getting together.

you walked out, your work bag still covering yourself as you greeted luca and nina, the later giving you a look that only made you nervous.

you made small talk with the family before nico announced that dinner was ready. thankfully nico had brought your plate to you, both you and the fetus were happy with the look and smell of the fettuccine alfredo, with sausage, that nico had made. “thank you.”

as much as you didn’t want to, you had to set your work bag that had been used as a bump shield on the floor to eat, you just hoped everyone was too distracted by the food in front of them to notice.

“so what was the news that you had to share? i assume it has to do with y/n?” mrs.hischier spoke excitedly, it was obvious she was hoping that you and nico had started dating.

“y/n is pregnant and i’m the father and we are keeping it, but we are not together.” nico spoke quickly, his head down as if he was a child being scolded.

“oh…” 

it wasn’t the worst reaction that could’ve happened, but it definitely wasn’t the best one, but how good of a reaction could one get after they tell their mother they got their fuck buddy pregnant.

“we’re figuring this all out as we go, but i am very sorry mrs.hischier i understand this isn’t how one would usually want their son to become a father.” you apologized, your head was also down.

“i’m not angry, just shocked and a little bit disappointed in you nico…but everything happens for a reason so i fully support you two.” you and nico let out identical sighs as his mother revealed that she was not going to disown either of us.

+++

the rest of dinner went great, you even made plans for both yours and nico’s family to get together for a small gender reveal brunch before the hischier’s headed back to switzerland.

nina had called dibs on walking you out so you prepared yourself for the question you knew she was going to ask.

“are you absolutely, one hundred percent, serious when you say that you and nico are not together in any way, whatsoever, romantically?” nina asks, using too many synonyms for the word definitely.

“yes i am absolutely, one hundred percent, serious when i say that me and nico are not together in any way, whatsoever, romantically.” you reply, mocking her words.

she doesn’t seem too pleased by your answer and whines. “why? i want a sister and you are the only person i like, in general.”

“that is very sweet nina, but me and nico don’t like each other in that way. we’ve been…boinking for almost two years now. if either of us had feelings, i guarantee they would have been confessed by now and we probably would not be expecting a child out of wedlock in five months.”

nina let out an exaggerated sigh as you neared your car. 

“me and nico are just friends, okay?” you spoke, getting into the driver’s seat. 

“yeah friends who happen to boink on a weekly basis and are now expecting a child together.”

“i’ll see you at brunch on sunday nina.” 

+++

“i’m team boy and girl!”

“mom i already told you we aren’t having twins.” 

the sunday morning activities were supposed to be fun, and they were, but they were causing you a shit load of stress. 

it seemed like everything nico was doing was aggravating you, and when nico and your little brother were in the same room it was a recipe for disaster. plus your mother wasn’t any help, she teamed up with nico’s mother and kept pressuring you to at least move in with nico, who you believe put them up to it.

“okay let’s just get this over with!” you yelled out, just wanting to figure out the gender so you could go home and have some much needed alone time.

nico came up next to you holding the envelope that contained the gender. “you ready mommy?”

“ew, don’t call me that.”

everyone had their phones out and began counting down as nico opened up the envelope.

“it’s a…GIRL!”

everyone’s cheers only furthered your headache, but you gave nico a smile and side hug before going over to your mother who ecstatically hugged you.

“a baby girl! i’m so happy for you y/n, my first grandbaby!”

you quickly said your goodbyes, not bothering to eat any of the food that was made or open any of the gifts that were brought.

were you being a rude, ungrateful, bitch for no reason? yes. but you were too exhausted to care or feel bad about nico’s constant dejected looks on his face throughout the morning.

+++

the second you got home you passed out on the floor of your apartment , god bless the pregnancy pillow your mother had delivered to you because you had a weird thing for sleeping on hardwood floors. 

you woke up at three in the afternoon to a series of knocks at your door. you took a while to get up and once you did you regretted it because you saw nico looking very angry through the peephole. 

you grabbed a sharpie and a sheet of paper towel and wrote the words “GO AWAY” in a very bold font before slipping it under the door.

the knocking silenced for a moment before it got louder, along with a call of your name.

“y/n. open the fucking door.” nico was seething.

you opened up the door. “what? i was sleeping.” you pointed to the pillow and blanket on the floor of your kitchen.

“on the floor?”

“yes- what do you need nico?”

“you left the party so quickly that you didn’t even get to open up your gifts, or acknowledge them.” nico gestured to the large bag of wrapped gifts that sat at his feet. “you actually left the party so early that the food wasn’t even served before you had said your goodbyes, which by the way thanks for not saying goodbye to me and thanks so much for the fake smile and side hug you gave me after we found out the gender of our child. that’s gonna be a real joy to look back on.”

you felt your headache coming back, you were starting to believe the sole cause was nico.

“seriously what was your problem this morning?” nico asked after a few moments of silence.

“my problem was that i didn’t even want this baby in the first place and i know for a fact i’m not going to be a good mother, and you! nico you are my problem, everything you did this morning seemed to piss me off and it’s probably just the pregnancy hormones making me easily irritable, but you were getting on my fucking nerves by breathing this morning.” 

nico kicked the bag of gifts into your apartment in a fit. “well i’ll stop bothering you then.”

you knew you should’ve been a rational adult and went after him, but you weren’t, so you slammed the door and brought all the gifts to the living room so you could open them.

you smiled as you realized that all of the gifts were for you. your favorite candies and snacks, maternity clothes, and some prenatal care items that you probably should’ve started taking the second you found out you were pregnant, with the exception of one gift. it was from nico, you could tell by the poor wrapping job, you had been the one to wrap all of his christmas gifts ever since you met him except your own of course, those he always wrapped himself and they were a nightmare.

once you got his present unwrapped you found a boat load of mini devils gear. bibs, socks, a onesie, even a pair of noise canceling headphones. at the bottom of the box you found a very tiny devil’s jersey with the number thirteen on the back and a big patched “C” on the front. you teared up once you saw the big patched “DADDY” above the thirteen on the back and a matching bow headband with a small note. i’m writing this before the reveal and i know we don’t know the sex yet, but i’m hoping for a girl and i know you are too. i hope the headband is a little good luck charm that baby girl judith is on the way. - nico.

you teared up at the note, especially at nico remembering the name you’ve always wanted to name your first daughter.

you quickly called nico, tears streaming down your face and nose all stuffy.

“hello?”

“come back up…please.”

“on my way.”

+++

you stood by the door waiting for nico to knock and once he did you immediately opened the door and nearly tackled him from the hug you gave him.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled, still crying.

“i know, it’s okay.”

you walked into your apartment and sat on your couch next to nico. “you remembered my baby names.”

“how could i forget them?” nico stated.

“what would you have done if it was baby boy gannon instead of judith?” you asked, turning your head that was leaned on his shoulder up to look at him.

“turn the headband into a bowtie…?”

you laughed at him before your stomach growled loudly.

“what are you in the mood for?” nico asked immediately.

“canes, but that’s in the city and i don’t wanna make you go to new york.” 

nico stood up after hearing your restaurant of choice. “c’mon, i’ll drive.”

+++

“how is it?”

“this is sex in a chicken tender nico, thank you for taking me here.”

nico laughed at your response before the both of you continued to eat a comfortable silence.

“hey tell your family that i’m sorry for how i was acting this morning, i am super grateful for them helping plan the reveal and to delay their flight to attend.”

“don’t worry, they understand that pregnancy emotions can be a lot, but i will still let them know.” nico said, making a mental note to text the family group chat.

“their gifts were very thoughtful too, how did nina know i like black licorice?”

“oh i let them know all your favorite things, that wasn’t alcohol.” nico shrugged as if it was no big deal.

you took a moment to process his answer, it wasn’t that weird for nico to know all of your favorite snacks and desserts, that’s what friends do…right?

+++

to: nico (hookup)

i have my sixth month checkup tomorrow at 10am, would you like to join?

from: nico (hookup)

yeah, do you wanna meet there or drive together?

to: nico (hookup)

could we drive together? 

from: nico (hookup)

of course, i’ll pick you up at 9:30, we’ll stop by mcdonalds for breakfast. i know you love their sausage muffins.

you hadn’t seen nico since the day of the gender reveal party and when you went into the city together to get canes. of course you stayed in contact, but it was hard with both of your work schedules that often collided. 

the next day nico was knocking on your door right at nine thirty in the morning, and you were still passed out. the pregnancy pillow and weighted blanket combo was not being your friend right now, though it was at 5am when the gremlin in your womb wouldn’t stop kicking. which she did for the first time earlier that day.

after about five minutes of nico knocking on your door with no response he began to fully panic, had you fallen down and couldn’t get up? were you dead in your bed? did you forget he was picking you up? so many things could’ve happened to you.

after a few moments of contemplating, nico decided that his only option was to break the door down. he began backing up a few steps and then running full force into your door, it took about seven tries for the door to fall to the ground.

the sound of the first impact of nico’s body was enough to wake you up. at the second impact you became aware of your surroundings, and at the third you thought someone was trying to break into your apartment.

you grabbed the closet weapon you could find, a meat pounder that you left on your kitchen counter last night, and got in position, ready to attack the person on the other side of the door.

once the door fell to the ground and the body fell on top of it, you got ready to swing.

“y/n!? are you alive!?”

“AHHH- nico!?” you froze your movements, the pounder hanging right above your head. “what are you doing here!?”

nico was still on the ground, also frozen as he tried to catch his breath. “ultrasound.”

you dropped your hands to your side as an ohhh played in your head. “i’m sorry i completely forgot. just give me a few moments and then we can leave.”

you turned around to enter your room before you froze and turned back around.

“i don’t have a front door…”

“i’ll text jack to come over and watch over the place and reattach it while we’re gone, the kid needs something to do this morning anyways.” nico said while pulling out his phone.

“does he know?”

“no, but he will…i’ve been meaning to ask you about telling the team anyways.”

“we can talk about it later , i need to get ready.”

you quickly got dressed, sporting a tight tank top, tight leggings, and a tight zip up. all tight because this baby had you gaining five pounds a minute. you huffed and puffed trying to get the tank top on. eventually you got it over your bump, but it was rising up and you were spilling out of it in too many places. deciding to just embrace the bummy look you threw on uggs, didn’t bother to put your contacts in, and left your hair in the rat's nest bun you’ve been wearing for the past five days since you were told to take a break from work by your boss, of course you had to faint in front of her.

“nico i need to get maternity clothes, i’m pretty sure these tanktop strings will snap if i raise my arm and don’t get me started on these leggings.”

“you’re huge…” 

“thanks nico, you’re really helping out right now.” you joked, but deep down you were upset. you don’t tell a pregnant woman she is huge, especially if it’s your baby. “let’s go, we can’t be late.”

“jack is almost here, babe.” the nickname slipped out before nico could even process what he was saying.

“uhm…”

“yo nico what’s up…where is y/n’s door.” jack said while walking into your apartment.

“you’re standing on it.” you spoke. jack’s eye’s wandered to you and then to your belly, and then they got really wide. “hi jacklyn.”

“oh shit.”

“we can talk about this later, but me and nico really have to go because we’re already running late.”

you and nico quickly walked out, the later telling jack that you had a toolbox under your sink and to “go crazy.” 

“no mcdonalds then huh?” nico asked as you got into his car.

“no, but i’ll be fine.”

+++

you weren’t fine.

you quickly got hangry and so did judith, nico seemed to be your punching for just about everything and even though he said he was fine, you could tell you hit home when you told him he needed to wax his eyebrows.

dr.swarn was completely fine with you guys being ten minutes late because she didn’t have anyone scheduled after you. the appointment went great except judith didn’t want to kick when nico felt your stomach, and of course nico’s hands were all dry and calloused which you hated feeling on your skin, and then after the ultrasound was over you guys rushed to mcdonalds because nico was determined to get you a damn sausage muffin, but of course you were two minutes past the cutoff for lunch and the teenager taking your order wouldn’t budge and you had to pretend like the cheeseburger didn’t come back up the second you got into the restroom. all you wanted to do is go home and be alone…and eat jalapeno poppers…and mozzarella sticks…

nico stopped at target to get what you wanted, and mac n cheese bites because he knew you’d love them.

you were pleasantly surprised when you arrived home to your door back on. luckily it had just separated itself from the hinges when nico tackled it to the ground, so it was an easy fix for jack.

once you stepped inside, nico quickly got to work, placing large portions of everything he bought in your airfryer. nico said it was crazy to buy a twenty size quart size air fryer and that you would never use it, but here he was being proven wrong.

you quickly changed out of the leggings and jacket, leaving the tank top on because you knew it would be just as much of a workout to get it off as it was to get it on and you threw on nico’s heart boxers he swears he wore as a joke, but you knew he picked them out at the store being one hundred percent serious.

“you two kids come sit down.” jack spoke loudly, as if he was your father.

“jack we are both older than you.” nico spoke sitting down in the spot next to you on your couch.

“doesn’t matter. you’re pregnant?”

you both nodded as jack pointed to you.

“-and you’re the father?”

you both nodded as jack pointed to nico.

“and you’re keeping it together as…”

“friends, just friends.”

“friends don’t have babies together.” jack gave you a skeptical look.

“they do now.” you stood up. “goodbye jack.”

+++

“i think it’s best if you two move in together, for both your safety y/n, and the babies.”

dr.swarn spoke before leaving you and nico in the room alone,

you were now seven months pregnant and you were constantly fainting, your boss had stopped allowing you to come into work and told you that you “needed rest” so you met her halfway and you now work from home.

nico was over one night after a game when he walked in on you passed out on the kitchen floor, but this time it wasn’t on purpose. he immediately began staying the night on your couch to make sure you were alright and as soon as you could he got you into dr.swarn’s office.

“i’m taking you home and we’re packing you up. i’ll text jack to come over with luke.” nico said as you exited the obgyn. 

“you know i can help right? judith is fine-”

“-but you’re not fine! you told dr.swarn that you’ve been fainting since even before you got pregnant, and i didn’t know. why didn’t you tell me about all this?” nico interrupted you, obviously upset.

“because it’s not important!” you snapped back. “it doesn’t affect judith in anyway, so i don’t understand you’re so worried.”

“it’s important because it affects you. i am worried about you, and i’m allowed to be. now there is no more arguments, you will be moving in with me and ending your lease at your current place.”

“nico-”

“no, that is final.”

+++

for the rest of the day you sat and watched tv while the two hughes and nico packed up your apartment until they had to pack your tv, which you insisted they did last.

“the truck is all loaded up, we’re gonna drive it over to nico’s and he is going to drive you in your car.” jack spoke as you approached where the truck was parked on the side of the street.

you nodded as nico helped you into the car. you hated admitting it, but you were much larger than you were expecting to be at this time in your pregnancy. 

+++

once you had made it to nico’s apartment you did the same thing you were doing before while the boys unpacked your stuff into the second bedroom, absolutely nothing.

you got up and waddled over to where the guys were all watching luke struggle to get the fitted sheet on your bed.

“can i please do something? anything?” you begged.

“yeah, go out and use my laptop to create a list of things you want as gifts at the baby shower, a registry because i know you want specific things for judith.” nico answered your begging.

“baby shower? i’m having a baby shower?” you had not been informed of this.

“yeah, all the guys on the team and their partners are gonna come, so are your friends and family, mine is coming too.” nico spoke like it was no big deal. 

nico had told the guys about three weeks ago because they saw the ultrasound in his locker. which in response had you getting multiple text messages from some of the girls all sounding very similar to “i thought y’all were just friends?” 

“when is this?” you asked, knowing you would need to get an outfit ready.

“next saturday, we have no game.” nico replied simply

“that’s in a week!” you shrieked, when you went maternity clothes shopping that did not involve any dresses.

“yeah, so you better get working on that list.”

+++

it only took you ten minutes to make the list because all you had to do was transfer it from a google doc, where it was already made but just titled as your shopping list, to a spreadsheet where people could claim a gift to give you, nico, and the baby.

it was a list with the basics. a stroller, breast pump, car seat (preferably one that went with the stroller), bed sheets, clothes, the essentials to keep a newborn alive, but you also had other things like decor for the nursery toys, and this bedside bassinet that your mother had been raving about since she saw it on facebook. you thanked god that your new room had a walk-in closet because that was going to be judith’s room. you weren’t even sure it was a closet because it was completely empty, no shelves or rods to hang anything on, it was more of a very small room, but it worked out better for you so you couldn’t complain.

you quickly went back to where the boys were, silently screaming as they made your bed completely wrong.

“please, oh please for the love of god, let me make my bed.” you begged nico, genuinely astonished that they had managed to put your pillows in the wrong order and put your comforter on inside out.

“i thought i told you to make your list?” nico said.

“i already finished. it was easy.” you said as you began stripping your bed of everything on it. “i just put down everything i already had on my shopping list…and then some because i know my friends are gonna wanna get me multiple things.”

you made sure to stare jack down as you put your comforter on the correct way before you placed your pillows in the correct order as well as the blankets at the end of your bed.

nico was quick to rush you back into the living room, turning on a movie for you to watch. you quickly got bored, which meant you quickly got hungry.

“nico!” you yelled out, needed your baby daddy to come to your rescue.

“yes honey?” nico approached where you were lying down, the two brothers laughing at their captain.

“i’m hungry.” you gave him a hopeful smile. “for taco bell…” “you’re order still the same as it was last time?” nico didn’t even hesitate to grab his shoes and keys. 

“yes, but if they have nacho fries please get those too.” you answered, nico had basically all of your fast food orders memorized by now.

“nico can i get some food too?” jack asked in a girly voice.

“please honey!” luke added.

“fuck off you two, go finish putting her clothes away.

+++

soon enough you had dragged nico out to go shopping for a dress for your baby shower. luke and jack had left shortly after nico arrived back home with your food and once you finished eating you got nico to drive you to the mall.

“ooh what about this one?” you pulled out a simple floral dress.

“it’s nice, but it’s only march. don’t you think it’ll be too cold for a tank top?” nico spoke, reminding you that it was still freezing cold in new jersey.

a few minutes later you approached where nico was sat in a chair with a dress you thought would be more appropriate. 

“what about this? i love the pink.” it was basically a dupe of the skims long sleeve dress, but you didn’t really care. “we’ll have to find a polo that matches the color while we’re out.”

nico approved of the dress so you were quick to go to the checkout and buy the dress, excited about the event that was going to happen, after you pulled nico into the closest department store and found a polo that was close enough to the shade of pink of your dress. 

“how are you gonna tell the media about…this whole thing?” you asked on the way home.

“what whole thing?” nico questioned, not exactly understanding what you meant.

“the fact that you knocked up some chick, who you are now living with to raise the baby, but you aren’t together with said chick.” you deadpanned, thinking of all the reactions you knew you were going to get from the hockey world. you could already see the “baby trapper” and “gold digger” comments and dms you would get.

“i didn’t knock up some chick, i knocked up my…friend?” 

“yeah go with that, it sounded real believable nico.” you said sarcastically.

“look i don’t really know how to tell the world that i got my hook up/best friend pregnant because, as jack as told me multiple times, my pull out game is weak.” you laughed and agreed with jack that nico did in fact have a weak pull out game, the evidence was currently kicking you. 

after a few moments of silence nico spoke up again. “alright what if we don’t mention our relationship at all. we just make an instagram post together of images of the ultrasounds and pics from the baby shower and tell everyone that we are expecting. we definitely won’t post the gender reveal video because you look like you were planning my death in it, but we just make the post and don’t comment on our relationship.”

you had to admit that it was a good idea, but you already knew that this would make everyone assume that you were dating. most people did already, which you understood. you wore playoff jackets with nico’s name and number, you attend team events and parties together, hell you went to the nhl awards with him and his family, and you are super close with his family, so you were never upset that people assumed your relationship status with nico because you did everything that the other girlfriends and wives did.

“i like that idea.”

+++

“alright this gift is from me and jack.” luke spoke as he handed you a gift.

you were a bit overwhelmed with the amount of people looking at you and just simply being in your home, but you knew that these people were here for you and at the end of the day you were getting a shit ton of gifts. 

so far every single thing you had put on your list was gifted to you and now it was just things people thought you or the baby would like.

“oh you guys…i love it!” it was a wood wall decal of judith’s name and it matched the pink polkadot of her sheets.

“there is more under it.” jack spoke up. 

you lifted up the large sign and saw a baby onesie in maize and blue that said “future wolverine.”

you and your friends started laughing at it. 

“you guys do know that i went to ohio state right?”

you were met with a disgusted stare by the brothers, more specifically the youngest, only causing you to laugh harder, not noticing nico’s pissed off expression, the one he had on his face all day.

+++

you continued to open up gifts and thank everyone, nico was one writing duty so he wrote down each gift and who it was from so you could send them thank you cards later in the week.

once presents were done it was photo time. you took lots with your family and nico’s family, as well as some with your friends, and of course you had to keep the tradition going with the girls from the team and took a picture of everyone pointing at your belly.

you only took a couple with nico, as he had been oddly distant all day.

after everyone left you and nico began moving everything into judith’s nursery and setting things up.

“thank you for setting that up, i had a lot of fun.” you spoke up, interrupting the awkward silence that was looming around you two.

nico nodded as he finished building the crib, you were given the simple task of putting all the wipes and diapers in the changing table’s cabinet.

“so once we’re done do you want to make the instagram post? or were you wanting to wait until after judith was born to post?” it was awkward, nico was just sitting there once the crib was all set up. “...nico?”

you were met with silence, nico was staring at you, yet not speaking.

“okay what the hell is up with you today? you’ve been weird all day, the only time you were even interacting with me was during pictures.” you had snapped, getting aggravated by the swiss’ behavior today.

“it’s nothing i just…” nico started speaking, but trailed off quickly.

“are you having second thoughts about all of this?” you whispered, scared to say it too loudly, scared that it is the truth. “second thoughts about judith?”

nico’s head instantly shook. “no, of course not.”

“then what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing, i’m just not feeling the greatest and i didn’t want to risk you getting sick so i tried to keep my distance from you…” nico lied.

earlier, when the party was first starting, nico had overheard your conversation with your friends about how you couldn’t wait to give birth so you can start going out on dates and having meaningless hookups, saying that you missed being a twenty two year old who could do twenty two year old things. 

nico understood you had urges, hell he had his urges too. over the course of your pregnancy you and nico had the occasional…hang out, but ever since you moved it was happening once, sometimes twice, a day. he thought it meant something, he thought you guys were finally going somewhere, but it seemed like you just wanted to go back to how things were before, which would probably be impossible, you have a fucking kid togther.

nico had realized a year ago that he had feelings for you. the only reason he didn’t go full legal team on your ass when you told him you were pregnant was because of how desperately he had fallen for you.  

“oh, well you could’ve just told me that earlier, i was worried that i had done something.” you said before an awkward silence settled in the room. “well could you put all the sheets and clothes we got today in the washer? i’m gonna start on thank you notes in the living room.”

you shook off the tension as you exited the small room, nico gathering everything that needed to be washed in a small basket before going into the laundry room.

+++

“i don’t like that, why don’t we just wait to post until she is born to post everything, have the caption just be judith? i think that's better than a three hundred word rant that could be summarized by i knocked up my friend.” 

three weeks until you were due to pop and you and nico still hadn’t gone public with the pregnancy. of course the wag blogs found a way to get a hold of a picture of you and nico from earlier on in the pregnancy where people could only speculate whether or not you were with child or just had a large lunch and somehow it got out that you had moved in with nico, only furthering the rumors that had been going on for years that you and nico are more than just friends. 

“okay. let’s wait until she comes to post, but i don’t like that caption, let’s keep thinking.” nico replied, the devil’s PR team email staring back at him. “they want us to publicize it before someone else does it for us.”

“well it’s a good thing i’m chained to this bed until i go into labor.” you joked, you were so big you could barely sit up let alone walk anywhere. “no one is going to find out, don’t worry. it will all be okay.”

+++

two weeks later you had been having contractions all day, but dr.swarn said to not go to the hospital until your water had broke because these contractions could’ve been directly connected to stress. considering that your pregnancy was exposed three days ago, you would say that you were pretty stressed out.

one of the girls, not even thinking, had posted a photo dump on instagram to celebrate the devil’s season ending and included one from your baby shower. nico, you, and unborn judith right in the center of it all. it was quickly taken down, but the damage had already been done and now all of nico’s and your social medias were being flooded by comments. 

nico was currently at locker cleanout, and the meeting he had to have with the PR team to apologize for not listening to them and to set up a game plan to rescue him from whatever deepshit this was going to get him in was scheduled for right after.

you were laid down on the kitchen floor, your mother was somewhere in the living room timing your contractions. you were having a big contraction, holding onto the nearby chair leg for support, when you felt a gush of liquid puddle under you. 

“MOM!?” you yelled out, your water had just broke.

“sweetie!? what’s going on- OH LORD!” your mother scrambled to get you on your feet as you cried out in pain. “let me get the bag!” you had never seen your mom run so fast, you would’ve laughed at her nearly tripping if it wasn’t for the child threatening the slip out at any moment.

you were assisted into the backseat of your mother’s car as she drove to the hospital.

“if you could step on it, that would be great i’m kinda-” your sarcastic comment was cut off by another contraction. “nico…oh my god nico! i need to call him!”

you fished around the packed bag until you got a grip on your phone, dialing up nico as quickly as possible.

“i’m sorry but the number you reached is not available. please leave a message at the sound of the beep.”

you groaned loudly, speaking into the phone. 

“your child is currently in the process of being born, i’m at the hospital closest to the arena. please hurry.”

+++

you laid in the weirdly comfortable hospital bed, not yet fully dilated. it worked out in your favor because nico had yet to show up. you left a couple text messages and then a few more voicemails.

“i don’t know what the fuck your doing right now, but if judith is born before you get here your last name will not be on the birth certificate.” you said into the microphone, leaving the third voicemail of the day.

nico’s entire family was flying in next week and nico had made sure that he had all of next week off from any media or anything related to hockey so he could be there for the birth, but now judith was coming early and no one but your mother was here.

dr.swarn entered your hospital room again, she had arrived shortly after you because you had paged her the second you got into the car. “how are we doing momma?”

“not good, baby daddy is nowhere to be seen and i’m still not dilated enough to get this monster out of me.” you answered, setting your phone down beside you.

after a few moments dr.swarn smiled. “well i’m sorry about nico’s absence, but judith is ready to come out. you’re ready to push.”

+++

you don’t remember much, the epidural had kicked in. 

you remember holding onto your mom’s hand so hard that she yelped in pain at one point.

you remember cursing nico for not only doing this to you, but not being there for you.

you remember crying, a lot, and you remember judith crying a lot too.

you remember holding judith for the first time. both of your tears stopped for just a moment as you had skin on skin contact.

you whimpered as they took her away for cleaning, but soon she was wrapped up and you were able to hold her again. 

you remember the sound of footsteps and a thick swiss accent begging to be let into the room, continuously yelling that he was the father. your mother was quick to go into the hall and defend nico from the nurses saying he couldn’t go into the room, and as soon as nico saw you holding judith he began crying. 

“y/n i am so so sorry, i was-”

“where the hell were you!? i just had to give birth to our daughter without the father there!” you scolded the man.

“i put my phone at the bottom of my bag during locker cleanout and didn’t even think to take it out before my meeting with management. i got here as fast as i could.” nico had to catch his breath while he spoke.

“i was all alone…” you teared up, all of your emotions catching up to you again.

“i know. i know baby and i’m so sorry.” nico said, coming to your side. “can i hold her?”

you were too distracted by nico calling you baby, well more specifically by the feeling in your stomach, to answer with words. you just nodded and handed judith over. “be careful, and make sure to support her head.”

you smiled at the sight of nico holding judith, tears in his eyes, quickly taking a picture.

“were you serious about my name not being on the birth certificate?”

+++

once everything had settled down and you and nico were finally given some alone time in the hospital room you began making calls.

your mom had already messaged your families group chat, informing them of judith’s birth and sending pictures, so now you just had to call nico’s family. first was his mother, you had wanted to call her before you went into labor but it was around midnight for her and you didn’t want to wake her up.

she was so happy to hear from you, and you had never heard such an excited scream in your life when you turned the camera onto where judith was currently sleeping in your arms, nico having moved to lay behind you in the bed, his chest being your pillow.

“oh you have to call nina next, she has been so excited to become an aunt!”

that’s exactly what you two did.

facetime nina was fun, she gave you some much needed comic relief and she didn’t make any comments on yours and nico’s relationship…while he was in the room.

the second nico stepped out of the room nina was quick to ask when the wedding was.

“never gonna happen. i don’t like nico like that, and he doesn’t like me like that.” you said while putting judith back in that plastic jail they call a crib. “we’re here to talk about my gorgeous daughter who looks a little too much like nico for my liking.”

“ouch.” 

your head whipped around to see nico standing at the door. “your back early.” you were hoping he didn’t hear what you had said earlier. lately nico had been acting insanely weird everytime someone brought up your relationship with one another.

“the nurse was just outside, she’s gonna go finish the final paperwork and we’ll probably be out of here in the next hour.” nico said before turning back around. “i’m gonna go help out with the discharge papers.”

once he left you let out a groan. “nina why is your brother acting so weird?”

“what’s up with him?” she asked, curiously.

“ever since the baby shower he has just been…off. i don’t even know how to explain it.” you  started off, beginning to pace around the room. “he is so distant, and really out of it. i would think it might just be with the upsetting ending of the season, but this has been going on since before the playoffs. he keeps saying that he is sick and doesn’t want to expose me to germs, but i live with him and i haven’t even heard him sneeze from allergies.”

“do you think, and i hate to ask this, that he is having regrets about…everything?” 

you felt tears fill your eyes at her question. “yeah, i do. i asked him, and he denied it, but i can’t think of any other reason why he would distance himself from me and from judith.”

the lack of response from your friend on the phone was enough to make you start crying.

“i have my essentials packed up and my mom has a lawyer on speed dial just in case something happens…” you felt horrible having to admit this, especially to his sister. “i don’t want the lawyers, it’s my moms doing.” you felt guilty for what having a lawyer would be implying. 

“-i’m not judging you. just make sure nico doesn’t find out, i have a feeling he won’t be a fan of you even having a bag packed.” nina cut you off. “look i have to go, just keep me updated.”

you assured her you would before saying your goodbyes.

+++

“hey you just have to sign the discharge papers and the birth certificate, then we can leave.” nico said, entering the hospital room you had been in for the past couple of hours.

it had been around twenty minutes since you said goodbye to nina, deciding to finish phone calls tomorrow and instead spend your time crying while holding your crying newborn, best way to bond right?

“okay.” you sniffled. “could you put judith in her carseat? i’m gonna change.”

bond right?

“okay.” you sniffled. “could you put judith in her carseat? i’m gonna change.”

nico nodded and picked judith up from the hospital’s crib, holding her close to his chest and staring at her in awe. he couldn’t believe that this precious little girl was his.

“i’m always going to love and protect you, no matter what. your mother too. someday we’ll be a happy family, the three of us, hopeful gannon will join us sometime soon…” nico trailed off. “daddy loves you and he loves mommy too, you’re the two most important women in my life now, don’t you ever forget that…your mommy does a lot.” 

nico couldn’t finish his peptalk, or whatever one would call the conversation with his daughter, because you had stepped out of the bathroom changed and ready to go. “are you okay?” it was obvious that you were crying, you don’t know why you were even trying to hid it. 

“i’m fine, just emotional…just gave birth ya know.” you tried to laugh it off.

nico didn’t believe it. “we’ll talk when we get home.” 

+++

“why have you been acting so weird-”

“i overheard what you said-”

you and nico spoke at the same time, nico gesturing for you to go first.

“you overheard!?” you were convinced you were breaking a sweat from how panicked you had become in an instant. “look nico, the lawyer was my mother’s idea a-and i haven’t even actually talked to them yet, my mother just has them on retainer.”

“wait, what!?” nico stared at you with a look that scared you. “i was talking about what you said at your baby shower. you have a lawyer!? do you have all your things packed too so you’re ready to leave me and take judith with you!?” your silence only made nico angrier. “oh my god you do have your shit packed.”

“j-just the essentials…” you stuttered out.

“yeah because that makes a difference.” nico had distanced himself from you. “i cannot believe this.”

“i only did that stuff because for the past month it's seemed like the last thing you wanted was to be in mine and judith’s life!” your loud voices woke judith up, her loud wails only making the room more tense. you picked her up and tried to soothe her as you spoke to nico. “i’m only gonna ask you one more time nico, do you regret being with me and deciding to be in judith’s life?” 

“no. i do not regret it y/n.” nico spoke sternly.

“then why the hell are you treating us this way?” 

“because i am in love with you.”

your eyes widened in shock and you nearly lost your grip on judith from the whiplash that seemed to go through your body.

“you…what!?” 

it was essentially a stare down between the two of you, it was so uncomfortable in the room that even judith shut her mouth. 

“i have for a year now, probably longer, a-and i thought that judith would finally be my way into your heart. i thought that me being there for you, and for our daughter, would make you love me too.” nico’s tone of voice was one of a kicked puppy. 

“what are you doing?” you asked, not pleased with what he was throwing onto you. “why are you telling me this?” 

“i just needed you to know.” nico whispered his response, not expecting that reaction.

“so you’ve been in love with me for a year now?” nico nodded at your question. “so how does that add up to you treating me like some gold digging whore who got pregnant on purpose for the past month?” 

“i’m not-” nico let out a heavy sigh. “at your baby shower you said you couldn’t wait for everything to get back to how it was before the pregnancy.”

“yeah, so?”

“so!? you’ve basically been counting down the days until you’re able to fuck someone else, while i’ve been doing everything in my power to prove myself to you that i am worthy of being more than just the guy you fuck when no one else is available.” nico grew angry, if this was a cartoon steam would be coming out of his ears.

“i didn’t ask for you to do that nico! i was happy with how things were before judith, is it so wrong to want that back?” you were equally as angry. who was he to make you feel guilty about not being in love with him?

“yes it is! you are a mother now y/n, you are not allowed to be irresponsible anymore. you have to take care of two lives now-”

“are you not going to be helping me!?” you interrupted nico.

“when i can, yes i will, but i have a job that keeps me away a lot.” 

you rolled your eyes at his words. “you are not allowed to dictate my love life just because you knocked me up.”

you didn’t know if you should be thankful or agitated that judith decided to start crying at that moment, but either way you started your slight bouncing movements back up to try and settle my daughter, as odd as it was to use that term in a real scenario, and tried to find those parental instincts everyone was always talking about.

“she’s probably hungry.”

“i didn’t ask you…but thank you i will try that.”

+++

the first night with judith was rough. as much as nico wanted to, he couldn’t leave you alone and retreat off to the hughes’, both because if his mother found out, and she would, he might as well get his obituary ready in advance and he just could not handle the torture the brothers would put him through.

it was like your daughter had a sixth sense for when you were just about to fall asleep, choosing those exact moments to cry out for something. you never knew what she wanted, always going through the same order of “milk, diaper change, pacifier, cuddles, burping, scenery change, and clothing change” until one of them worked. 

nico slept on the couch, it was close enough to your room where if judith began to cry he would hear it and wake up. he was going to stay in your room with you and judith, but after the blowup of him confessing his feelings and you borderline rejecting him things it got a bit awkward. still now, almost twenty four hours later you and nico hadn’t had a proper conversation let alone spoken about what had happened. 

you were on the phone with nina for a while, then your mother, then nina and your mother, both of them giving you their advice but following it up with “just listen to your heart.”, so it was all canceled out in your mind. 

you turned to your newborn, who was staring at you from her little bed next to yours. “judith what am i supposed to do? your daddy, the one with the funny voice, is so amazing and sweet. he treats me like a princess, so why am i struggling so much to figure out what i want with him?” 

judith stared at you with those large brown eyes, a small look of adoration on her face. 

“i love you.” you whispered to her. “-and i love your father too.” 

you sat up in bed, eyes widening at your revelation. you love nico. 

“oh judith, thank you for listening to your mommy!”

you hopped out of bed, rushing into the living room. “nico! nico! nico! nic-”

“what!? what's wrong!? is judith alright!?” nico basically jumped off of the couch, worried that something had happened.

“she’s fine, everything is fine…well not everything it’s just.” you took a moment to look at nico, the lighting was horrible yet he still looked amazing. “i love you too nico.”

there was a silence that followed, it wasn’t awkward or filled with tension, just a calm silence. 

you blinked and then suddenly nico’s lips were on yours. 

the sound of judith’s cries separated your lips and caused you both to race to your bedroom.

spoiler alert: nothing was wrong with judith, she was just crying to cry. 

nico’s arms were wrapped around you and were holding you into his chest as you both laughed. 

“so what now? are we dating? getting married?” you asked, leaning your head against nico’s shoulder. 

“as much as i would love to get married right now, we’ll start with dating…so will you be my girlfriend?” nico asked, mumbling against your head and giving light kisses every now and then.

“yes, i will be your girlfriend.”

“yes!” 

you laughed at his response, judith held in both of your arms. “let’s go to bed, she’s finally asleep.”

+++

nicohischeir and y/nonfilm

nicohischier me, my girlfriend, and our beautiful babygirl. welcome to the world judith.

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jackhughes god father mode activated😎

y/nonfilm …who said you were the god father?

ninahischier best day ever!! i got a niece and a sister 🩷🩷

njdevils baby hischier alert‼️

comments on this post have been limited

+++

note: i 100% HATE this ending (the whole thing actually) it’s so rushed and just bleh, but i have literally been working on this for 71 days. SEVENTY ONE DAYS. college has been kicking my ass lately so i haven’t been very focused on writing anything. but i hope y’all still like this PLEASE DON’T LET IT FLOP i’ll cry. okay love y’all babes BYEEEE!!!

[phantomrose96]

Savit-e

My host mother is a woman with long twirling hair and more floral-patterned sundresses than I’ve seen in my entire life. She throws open the closet each morning to flick each dress along its hanging rail, sharp squeaks. “What can I even wear?” The dresses sway like summer willows. I sneak in behind her and grab a t-shirt and jeans from my tiny pile at the bottom.

She loves earrings that swing and she loves stain-glass windchimes which clink and muse while she pours me the bitterest cup of tea I’ve ever had in my life. I fill it with sugar and she chides me. I remind her of all the spicy dishes I make that she cannot eat, and she says, “Okay, I’ll let it go this one time.” She sips her tea black. The birds titter at her joke. We’ll have the same conversation tomorrow.

My host mother is Jira and I wonder how closely we might be related every time I catch that glimmer in her eyes like my mothers’. Jira is too tall to be my mother and her hair is not quite dark enough, but I like to believe I see it. I like to believe Jira’s country and mine are related, that maybe her great-great-grandparents and mine were friends before the records were scorched and the lines were redrawn. Or maybe our countries bore no relation to each other. Maybe they were friends anyway. Maybe they were enemies. I’ve heard every opinion.

Jira has a worry-face like my mother, but she uses it for different things, like plum prices at the market and rain clouds blundering through like clumsy creatures. It used to surprise me, since my mother reserved her worry-face for only the dourest things in her mind. I saw more and more of it from my mother before I left. “Baby maybe you should spend the summer home. Maybe you can get your money back.” She said she’d been reading things in the news. I told her not to worry. I would be safe in my travels. I feel stares pressing into my back while Jira leans over the plums. I notice Jira receives the stares too.

She hums a tune and busies herself in the kitchen in a dress I’ve never seen. She’s been in a great mood since her daughter came home this morning. I didn’t get a good look at her daughter at first because Jira swallowed her right up in her arms. But I got to see her better when I helped bring her bags in. Savine is lithe, baby-faced and a head shorter than Jira, and her eyes carry the same arch and slope as Jira’s. She has the same dimples and she moves in the same way, tilted forward, as if to let gravity do the work of carrying her momentum.

Savine is napping from her trip, and Jira seems to have forgotten all the slow and patient syllables she usually saves for me. She speaks in her rapid pace and I jog to keep up. Too many words slip through my grasp. One in particular I hear too many times. Savit-e.  

“Savit-e?” I ask.

Jira puckers her lips as if to think. Her eyes rove. Footsteps tap gently closer behind me, and Jira’s eyes light up as she looks past me.

“Savit-e!” she says, motioning forward as Savine rounds the counter and pulls her mom into another hug. Savine is only 10. She’s been away almost 6 months for school, according to Jira.

A nickname, I note. Savine wears earrings like windchimes as well.

…

Jira has offered to charge me no rent if I babysit Savine for the summer and cook dinner in the evenings. Savine’s summer classes are early and short, as are mine, so I pick Savine up every day at noon. “This is Reb. She’s my mom’s friend this summer,” Savine tells her school friends. I gather that Jira does something similar every year, taking in an au pair while she works the summer.

There is a park Savine likes in particular, with the tall slides and the cold water fountains and all her friends. It takes me a few days to realize her friends are new to even her. Any child at the park becomes her friend by nature of needing two to play the teeter-totter. I meet parents and I practice my clumsy language with them. They don’t stare strangely at me like the man in the plum aisle.

Three times over the summer, I hear a parent at the park ask me. “Who is Savit-e?” I point to Savine every time. I don’t think too much about it, because they always like the answer, nodding along. Savine’s friends do not use the nickname, but I experiment with it here and there. Savine lights up when I do. “Savit-e,” I call to her from the school lawn, and she squeals and bounds forward to wrap me in the kind of hug she gives her mother.

I pick up a copy of the newspaper from the corner store every day on my way to pick up Savine, and I read what I can of it at the park. The newspaper is not a person, and it does not stilt its vocabulary to be simple and clear the way people do when they notice me struggling with the tongue, so oftentimes I gather just the concepts from articles. It is my fourth week of doing this when one article stops me. I see the spelling of what Jira says out loud so often.

Savit-e.

The article is hard, but I recognize the word for murder, and the words for three men. Three men murdered, and Savit-e. I would ask Savine, but I’m afraid the article may be something upsetting.

I ask Jira that night, after Savine has gone to bed.

“A man killed three others,” Jira says, brow slightly scrunched as she skims the paper and distills its contents to simpler words I know. Her eye creases are deep by the evening lamplight. “He is not charged with a crime, because he was protecting his Savit-e.”

This sinks in slowly, and a red flush of embarrassment makes itself known on my cheeks.

“Savit-e… as in ‘daughter’?”

I use my own word for it, since I don’t know Jira’s word for daughter. Or at least, I did not know, until now.

Jira’s brow scrunch tightens, which she does whenever I’ve used one of my words she doesn’t know.

“Like Savine is to you. Savine is your daughter.”

At this, Jira nods slowly, then more quickly as she lets the meaning sink in. “Yes… Savine is my Savit-e… my daughter.”

I thank Jira for the explanation. I lie awake that night thinking too much about the parents at the park who think Savine is my Savit-e.

…

I start to dislike the newspaper. I’m not sure if it’s the summer heat sewing aggravation, or some deeper unrest, or maybe my own growing vocabulary, but more and more I notice articles that leave me unsettled. I read about the arrest of a man who looks like the man in the plum aisle. Maybe there’s no resemblance at all. Maybe any man with those piercing eyes in a mug shot feels like the man in the plum aisle. There are still many words I don’t know, but country and nation come up often. And Savit-e. More articles of someone acting in protection of their Savit-e.

My mother isn’t here to protect me. I walk more cautiously when I’m alone at night, as a woman, as a Savit-e with no parents here to protect me.

I’m in the kitchen with a knife shunking through the angled cuts of scallion. The pot for the noodles is boiling and I’ve halved the spices as I do every night for Jira and Savine. I don’t even hear the front door kick open.

I do hear Savine scream.

My heart is in my throat and my blood is cold, and I move, because in the moment I have forgotten I am a Savit-e far away from home. All that matters is Savine’s scream.

And my sockless feet are light as I snake through the dining room and round the corner to the living room, entering from the same door as the two men who now stand there, backs to me, both eagerly teasing the handles of a gun. One has Savine in a chokehold, and the men stare at Jira, pressed flat against the wall. I realize Jira does have a worry-face she reserves for the truly awful things.

And the men with their backs to me are plum-men, in ways I understand without knowing what fast and clipped words they’re shouting at Jira. The one holding Savine presses the barrel of his gun against her ear, and the windchime titter of her earrings is drowned under her scream of fear. The plum man barks a demand at Jira, and she watches with moon-plate eyes.

He barks it again.

Jira raises a trembling hand. And her digits curl, and her palm pulls inward, and her earrings clink with the slow stuttering shake of her head. She points her index finger firmly against her own heart, and she declares ‘Savit-e’.

Jira runs out through the second living room door.

“Mooooom! Savit-e!!” Savine screams, and her words choke, and she wriggles under the hold of the man. And suddenly sense returns to my body at the sound of Savine’s screams.

I am still holding the scallion knife.

I don’t remember what I do next, but the knife does.

…

There is a drawl of radio static that seems to dominate my ears. The sirens and flashing lights are background noise to me now. They’ve taken Savine away with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. They’ve assured me I’ll be able to see her, but later, once she’s been looked at, once she’s calmed down, once I’ve been spoken to.

“You are not in trouble,” the detective tells me in my own tongue with a slight accent rounding her words. She’s the only one who speaks my language. They called her in when it became clear I didn’t know enough of theirs to give a report. “You were protecting your Savit-e.”

I flinch, a little bit, somehow still capable of embarrassment with a mind that’s gone completely numb. “Savine isn’t my Savit-e.”

The woman detective frowns. I remember we’re in my own tongue.

“I mean, she’s not my daughter. She’s Jira’s daughter. She’s Jira’s Savit-e.”

The woman’s frown lessens some. “Your daughter, no. Your Savit-e, yes.”

I hold my hands near my face. They still smell of garlic and scallions. “The pot’s gonna boil over. I have to go turn off the stove,” I say, urgently, and unhelpfully, as the thought suddenly strikes and I push myself standing.

The woman’s hand is on my shoulder, and she presses me down. “The pot is not boil. The stove is off. It is okay. Who is Savit-e?”

And the question sits weird. I realize she asks it like those parents at the park.

I don’t answer. The detective chews her lip, and I see her eyes searching for a word she can’t find. “Who is your… The Most? Who is your The Above? Who is your The Most of All?”

“My most what?”

“Who is your Protect Over Everything?”

And from her face I can tell she is frustrated with her own words. There is more she is saying that I cannot know in my own language.

Protect Over Everything. I think about the scream that pulled me from the kitchen.

“I think… Savine… is my Protect Over Everything.”

And this satisfies the woman. And she nods the way the parents at the park do. “You are not in trouble. You always protect Savit-e. You must always. There is no trouble for what you did. Good job, that you protect your Savit-e. You will have her back soon.”

I go stiff.

“Jira needs her back, not me. I go home in a few weeks. I only started—” I falter. “Savine is Jira’s Savit-e.”

The detective shakes her head. “Jira is Jira’s Savit-e. Jira does not come back.”

…

I postpone my flight home. I tell my mother it’s because my studies are going long. I’ll tell her more, later, when I’m ready.

I pick up Savine every day from school as always. She doesn’t smile, and she pulls me into a hug that is too tight and lasts too long. She doesn’t want to go to the park. She comes grocery shopping with me, because it’s better than being left home alone. I look over my shoulder whenever I grab the plums.

I cook dinner and I eat with Savine, and we do this at the counter because when I sit us at the kitchen table, Savine looks too long at Jira’s empty place. I tried calling Jira once, after Savine went to bed. Her phone rang from the next room. I watched it ring until it cut to voicemail.

There’s an article about me in the paper. I can’t read most of it. Or maybe I just don’t try to. I see Jira’s name. I see the plum man words. I see Savit-e written 14 times.

I don’t know what happens to Savine if I leave. I’ve tried asking and I get too many words I do not know, and no one who can explain them better to me. But their expressions stay with me. Like the looks of plum-men and worry-faces and now this new look, which is rooted in something deeper about a country which I know too little about. It’s a sad look. It’s something I can maybe understand without the words attached. I tell my mom I might like to extend my study through the fall.

Savine has started calling me “Savit-e.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Dairy Girl-- Part 3

A Homelander x F!Reader fic

A/N: 1more part to go, I've be going on a 4 day trip on wed so I should post the final part next wk, thanks everybody for reading here is part 2 (there's a link for part 1 there)

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

tags: child death mention, depressive, dark, kidnapping, stocklhom syndrome, HL tw.

word count: 4.4K

Part 3-- Fields

Months.

You’ve been here for months.

You aren’t quite certain of the timeframe but you kept track of the full moon, how often things faded and re-emerged, you’re sure half a year of your life has vanished slower than ever before, for weeks you find yourself holding on, now you aren’t sure why? This body of yours grows heavier around his arms as you sat there in that massive corner booth listening, as he squeezed your jacket as if to remind you he had a hold on you… or to make sure you were okay, you hoped.

Several months have passed and you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this Chinese restaurant having dinner with your captor.

Homelander’s visitation continued to be more sporadic, your time seems of less importance these days, you find yourself painfully alone, no matter how pretty the tapestry, how interesting the films have become, how delicious the food is or how the forced expansion of your music taste as they feed you an eclectic collection from japanese city pop to medieval folk rock albums changed the fact that you were alone. It had been endless weeks since you last saw a human being beside Homelander.

You stared at that steel door, its presence tempting you, mocking you, insulting you.

You pressed aimlessly at the panel hoping it would break or force somebody to emerge to tell you off– just the sound of a live human would be enough to fill this emptiness inside you even if it was for a short burst. The library elevator had been locked and no amount of pulling would get it to break, your voice, your sole company, birds would come and sing ‘hello’ but as pretty as they were they flew away at the sight of you.

Everything was perpetually quiet.

At least when the sun still lingered.

At night you couldn’t even sleep this awfulness off, your brain trapped you in a different nightmare.

The only time when this house wasn’t submerged in silence was in your slumber.

Ghost lived here you’ve come to accept.

“Every night I have the same nightmares” you spoke to a squirrel one morning

Cries of a baby you can never find, as you wake up, dazed and exhausted you hear the faintest cry and all your mind has tried to do these past few weeks and months have been to move on but ghostly cries forever remind you of the emptiness left in your arms, ghost hoping to crush everything within you, but when the sun is out you tell yourself that your baby boy is gone, you accept it. 

Every night before bed you recite a fresh mantra ‘you’re okay now, that in the future perhaps you could finally become a mother, that the embers still burn inside you, your love is there but is not wrong to move on’ but your nightmares won’t let you move on from a pain you couldn’t forget.

You pray to whatever god you believed, or used to believe for dreamless slumber, each night the thought of sleep frightens you, making you wish for death for it was kinder.

The only peaceful slumber comes with a blond catch.

In your arms he’s both small and larger than life, light and heavy, his lips pursed on your sensitive skin, his quiet moans and mewls send shivers down your spine yet bring you an animalistic primal comfort that tap in a primitive part of your motherly brain, his scent fades and returns the next time reeking of oatmeal and chamomile, as your nose sinks on his hair and he wraps his naked hand around your waist itching to crawl higher, to hold your breast much like a real baby would you forget he is grown, picking his fingers and letting them hang on your own, in this times were you drift away from boredom– you sleep peacefully. Wondering if there was safety in this? The world’s most powerful man held against your bosom, nothing could hurt you here– not even the nightmares. Afraid of him you supposed.

Homelander looks up with glassed eyes, licking his lips as he pops your nipple out his mouth, blissed out, so happy it colors you with envy– that’s the only smile you know it's 100% genuine, you seen all his earlier movies it certainly been refined but his smile is disturbingly faux… convincingly sold, nevertheless as he nuzzles you and giggles softly into your chest that you learn what his truly looked like.

When was the last time you smiled like that? You wondered.

You hand caressed his face cleaning a loose drop off his chin.

“You want me to stay tonite?”

It’s been almost 2 weeks since he stayed more than a couple hours, you don’t know what to say, he still fills you with fear but as the afternoon glow colors the tapestry and the night creeps closer and closer you want that safety… just one night without nightmares.

“Please stay…”

Homelander smiles and squeezes your sides, forcing you into a hug, he begins talking and is not a conversation you can follow or wished to but is music nowadays– the sound of another person, it's the sweetest music you’d ever listened to, searing banalities into your eardrums, but its sweet… something to make you forget that by morning he’d be gone and you be left alone with nothing but ghosts and thoughts.

“Can we switch positions?” Your arm has grown numb under him.

He grumbles pouting like a child, but he’s happy to oblige, the TV plays quietly in the background you’re unsure how much longer the tape has, but he stares at you as he sits straight waiting for further instruction, while you fix the pillows.

“I just want to be the little spoon…”

Homelander eyes light up–literally. It doesn’t last long and his lips curl dropping on the bed with eager eyes, your grimace is internal but you crawl into padded arms.

“Promise me you won’t leave in the middle of the night…” you say so quietly, he stares at those pretty eyes of yours and those thick dark circles under your eyes allowing himself to caress your cheek– until morning…”

“Ryan is off on a camping trip with one of his buddies… I can stay the whole weekend.”

“Weekend?”

“It’s friday, Y/N.” He says as if that was obvious.

Your eyes open so wide it hurts your face, but you nod furiously, a part of you dies, whatever self-respect you had is fading as the only thought consuming you is that for at least 2 days you’ll have company.

“I’m surprised you let him go”

“I have a few men watching him from a distance, and I can fly and check up on him at any point” he says through gritted teeth.

“It’s nice that you trust him. Must make him feel like a big kid… My parents never let me do such things…”

“Why not?” He asks, watching you with genuine surprise as your body loses resistance, sinking into him.

“They worried too much… always sheltering me… watching over me…” You missed them, you missed a world of people, now those obnoxious actions of the past warm your heart but you don’t let it be seen– He’s lucky to have you.”

You stayed in his arms until the credits finished rolling.

“Kill the feed!” Homelander shouts startlingly you stiff, he waits in silence grinding his teeth, jumping out of the bed almsot throwing you off the mattress, once his cape unfastened he turns back to you– what? you think i'm gonna lay down all night in this?”

You just watched him as he moved around your room entering your closet as you shook off the scare, and procuring an oversized t-shirt grumbling to himself about ordering some loungewear, you watched him undress with your heart creeping up your throat, squeezing the duvet as your worst nightmares tease an entrance to reality, with each thud of his suit and clanking of gold your heart rate doubled in speed, he who had very much avoided touching most of you, could very much do so and you’d be powerless to stop him, he turns around throwing you a look of disbelief making you wonder if ‘mind-reading’ was a unpublicized skill of his.

Without his suit… he seemed more human than he had any right to be, his bright orange undies peeking under the old t-shirt with a pulled neck allowing you to see a handful of chest hairs creeping up, Homelander left you in the room heading out, his eyes examining that all cameras were in fact turn off and so were the microphones, stopping by a tacky painting of kittens in the hallway, tapping on the thick frame carefully.

“I was thinking I should have this place redecorated” He said loudly, his hand stroking the frame– bring it into the 21st century… What do you like– farmhouse chic… art deco? Altho your house was a mix-match of things.”

You jumped off the bed and followed him keeping distance as you tried to suppress your trembling hands.

“You’ve been to my house?”

“I was curious about you… you’ve been here 5 months and the doctors are surprised you haven’t… lost your mind.” He turns to you– altho you’ve been playing the music twice as loud as before”

“Is lonely in here…” You look away trying to figure out the best words you ought to say– you haven’t visited me in weeks”

“I told you. I’m busy– I have a movie… we are doing some re-shoots… the studio feels like they need a new direction and we needed a new post-credit scene so it ties up with The Deep’s next film and–” he bites his tongue– I should call… I’ll have a phone installed… but what can I do to make your stay here less lonesome.``

“Keep me company… at least downstairs I could see the other girls…” You look down– are they okay?”

“That whole thing has been shut down. No need for it to continue if I have you.” 

He didn’t expect to see that beam of light in your eyes, but then those lips of yours straightened for something sinister came into your mind.

“What happened to them?” Faces that were still fresh in your mind spoil– are they okay?”

“Who knows…” he shrugs with genuine indifference– oh don’t make that look! I didn’t make the order, I simply told them to close shop… I can find out if you want.”

Staring into his eyes for what could’ve been an eternity but you never answered, which seemed to please him, he stretched his hand asking for yours and in that darkened hallway he seemed to be its only shadow, you obeyed afraid of displeasing him punished with abandonment for another endless loop, his fingers are always so warm and soft around yours. 

“You don’t sleep very much do you? I used to sleep a lot when they left me alone… which wasn’t often” He squeezes your hand pulling you closer– you can talk to me, Y/N. I want to know…”

“You’ve been to my home… you should know why I don’t sleep much…” 

“I can’t… imagine what you’ve been thru… If I lost Ryan–”

“I accepted it. I think it just wasn’t my time or his time…” You cut him off– I don’t know ‘bout God’s plan or nuthin but I just accepted that maybe one day it be for me but not yet.”

Homelander gave you a half moon, glad to see how strong you’ve been, glad to know you could withstand his abuse… you continued to be a challenge.

That night you both laid in bed, cradling him in your arms watching him mumble loudly in his sleep, his eyes shifting wildly, you watch him fight in his nightmare as you thought of your own… of those women and the bottles, how your signatured had doomed them, you bit your lips and watched him until exhaustion ate you up.

Waking up with a kiss from the sun without ever experiencing a single nightmare, not even their faces haunt your sleep.

It made you ill to be so relieved.

He kept you company, watching movies and eating popcorn, lounging around forcing you to read books to him, you thought that this would all you two would do-- just lounge around and pretend you weren’t growing bored.

“Wanna go out for dinner?” 

Your ears perked up.

“I’ll go and tell them to get us some clothes, and we can go have dinner.”

“You mean outside?”

“Of course silly… you’ve been good, I think you deserve it.” He jumps off the couch, heading towards the metal door dragging his feet– you like chinese. I saw you had lots of take-out menus.”

“I would love to” You ran after him, hugging him– can we get Ice-cream too… afterwards?”

“I could always go for a milkshake.” He kissed your cheek– be a good girl and go get ready would ya?”

He faded into the other side, hearing those metal doors slide open filled you with joy, you had your chance, you were good, you did all that Homelander wanted of you, you listened to his endless ramblings and you gave him what he stole you for without complaint, and now he rewarded you, the gods had finally heard you.

This was your chance.

You would run to the cops, you would hide in the sewers, you would run until your feet were stumps if you had to but you would get out of here, away from him, away from his dollhouse.

You were so focused you didn't even register his sudden kiss until you started to undress in the bathroom, you touched your cheek wondering about why he'd done so.

You did as you were told and as your hair dried he came back bearing clothes from this century entering the bedroom as you stood covered with nothing but a towel, he came in an orange t-shirt and a navy jacket his sight on your face as if he had manners. It took you a few seconds to realize these were your clothes, washed and ironed, he threw them in the bed lingering for a few seconds before returning you some privacy.

“You look good” You smile feeling weird in your own clothes, nothing but a band t-shirt and your best jeans, he handed you a jacket that was definitely not yours but a matching one to his own– they told me there’s this bar you liked quite a bit”

“The Loose End?” you smiled, they knew you there, the bartender knew you by name, the regular waitress Liz knew you too, if he took you there you could find a way out– they’re cheap and the nachos are great… and they have live music every weekend.”

“It’s a date then.” 

For the first time you crossed those steel doors, those wall held a boring room, a set of desk littered here and there alongside filing cabinets, a young man in a lab coat handed Homelander something while you looked around everywhere this whole setup was nothing but a repurposed kitchen, a storage close, and the entry hall, two large windows let the light in allowing you to see the driveway, and more evergreen forest, there were no houses just road and bushes indeed this location was as desolated as initially suspected. Leaving through the front door you spotted a pair of bikes parked on the side, while the garage was closed. A random man dragged a trolley filled with peonies, your feet were trembling as you stepped on that welcome mat, the air was so chilly against your skin, so refreshing on cracking lips.

Grass… trees… clouds… nowhere to run, you looked at the bikes but never did you look for their keys five seconds ago.

“Are we getting an Uber?” You looked at him.

He took you by the waist, not giving you an answer before jumping straight into the heavens, there was a town to the east, a highway near it, before your words could leave your body, he pressed your face against his shoulder, it's a whistling sound singing in your ear as an insanely heavy weighted blanket slammed against you, this song kept playing cut abruptly by honking, your feet hit the ground and you could’ve sworn you’ve died he lets go of your head messin with your hair as you parted from this tight embrace, looking bemused.

“Am I alive?”

“There’s not a safer vehicle in the world than me.” He chuckles– you’re fine.”

Blinking hard you looked around and immediately recognized the street peeking from the end of the alleyway, your old apartment was 20 minutes from this place, you started moving without him.

Your neck snapped back as he took your arm, forcing you still.

“The restaurant is that way.”

He held your arm so tight your fingers tingle from numbness, interlocking elbows as he forced you into the street, to passerbys you were just another nameless couple, nobody gave you guys a second look, the afternoon light was beginning to fade behind tall buildings, you look at strangers pleading for them to notice something was off only to meet discomfort and indifference, people minded their business and in the busy street you two failed to stand out, you knew every street and in your silence you hoped to see familiar faces but nothing but strangers surrounded you both.

Both stopping at the entrance of a chinese restaurant, you’re sure you’d ordered from here before, the place is loud and there’s a TV set on the sports channel, it smells of fried rice and oil and you can hear the cook shouting in cantonese, he never lets you speak and the waitress is too busy talking to her coworker to care just telling you to sit anywhere you like.

He sits you in a booth on the corner away from the window almost hidden but able to see a good chunk of the people, the tv plays in the back but you can’t see it, your face is obscured by a beam, the more you look at the decour it strikes you as cheap and busy, lights dim and there wasn’t many people inside no doubt he picked this place for a reason.

“I feel like egg rolls and sweet and sour pork… you want noodles or rice?”

“Rice… with chicken… and…” You glance at the menu– scallion pancakes…”

Time moves like a dream, you count the exits, the number of waitresses, you hear the phone used for take-out orders but from your spot you can’t see the phone, you see the paper sign saying ‘toilet’ which could lead to an unseen exit, maybe into the kitchen, but as the entree arrived you knew you couldn’t run to your old home, you could run to the nearest metro station take the train anywhere, the direction made no difference you just had to find a cop… anything to save you.

As you force yourself to chew it dawns on you how Homelander has not spoken, turning to see him and he has a dry smile in his lips, his sight focused on the table on the furthest end of the room, the party grew louder you assumed they caught his attention annoyed by their presence or something in that vein.

Dishware clank and people spoke and baseball played but his attention was on them alone, you swore you could’ve run and he wouldn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” You spoke with the meekest tone you could muster– is there something wrong with the food?”

He scoots in his seat moving closer to the edge of table, this boot could’ve sat a party of five with ease so he left you with a lot of space and for a moment you felt as if he was about to just walk out but instead he looked at the empty spot then jerked his head towards the direction of the party.

“Is there a friend of yours there…?” You try to remain bubbly, finding his demeanor uneasy.

Following him you take his former spot but he doesn’t leave the boot, and then you see it.

The big thing he was staring at.

She was so thin that it looked bigger than it should, she was a tiny frail thing and the bump protruded out of her stomach violently. She sat back down, her grin so big and her laugh so chirpy as she rejoined the group.

The group too engrossed in each other to notice… to notice the crying woman on the other side of the dimly lit restaurant.

He seemed the same, his hair was the same, his beard was the same, his shirt was the one you bought him last christmas and he looked… happy… happy as he kissed this woman you’ve never seen, holding her hand, caressing her stomach, she didn’t need a name for you to despise what she meant, there it was your ex-husband who shouted at you about not being ready to be a father, your ex who showed up late to the funeral and didn’t stick around to comfort you, who never made it to the hospital visits more than twice, here he was happy.

Looking at a young thing carrying the baby he did want.

Just like he never looked at you.

“Am so happy you’re having a little girl!” The older woman who sat across from him said– after everything that happened I'm just elated for you Eric.”

You heard your mother’s voice with so much clarity.

“After Y/N I never thought I would find somebody but I think she would’ve been happy for us. I’m just glad you guys are doing okay after everything…”

“It’s hard but you are still family and we can be happy for you and your sweet little girl”

You watched him comfort your mother, the way he talked about you as if he meant it.

When did he ever mean it? Did he find remorse in his heart after you were gone or was it to brush away the accusations.

‘Who would you run to?’ that voice in your head asked, your family was right there, your dad, your mom, a mutual friend of you both, your ex– they were all there but they didn’t see you, the more you focused on their words, the way they mentioned your name as if it made them feel icky.

“I was thinking of naming her after Y/N, I know she meant a lot to Eric and had we not met at that support group–

You ran off the booth, rushing to the bathroom, you’re sure somebody looked at you as the plates rattled, Homelander gave you a glance but didn’t follow you.

Slamming the door behind you, in that ugly cramped bathroom you screamed into your knees, every fiber of your body recoiled, tightening around your chest, you stayed there until your own sobs hurt your throat and your eyes itched from salt.

Staring at your swollen eyes and red nose you washed away what you could, nausea still lingered robbing you off your appetite.

The door opened and there was no red, white and blue suited supe, just a hall with faded pictures and a storage closet, walking not knowing what to find, not wanting to be seen.

He was still in the booth, happily waiting on you with a bag of leftovers propped on the table.

“Let’s go home…” You whispered, your throat hoarse.

“Home? Where is that?” he grins

“Home… take me home… please…”

He stares at the party who are now sharing their final drinks and readying to leave.

You sit on the edge pushing him into the booth, forcing him to pay attention to you and not those behind, maybe it was because he was Homelander that you kissed him, that you had the attention of a more enviable man than Eric ever was that you kissed him in front of him  and your family, maybe it was because it felt good, his thin lips soft and delicate against yours, it was  quick thing, his shock was palpable in the nervousness of his kiss was cute, but it felt good… for once something felt good again.

“Let’s go Homelander… I don’t wanna be here anymore…”

His lips pressed against your cheek before lifting himself, making sure to cover your sight as you both left the building turning away from the window as the party began to gather their things, he stopped for a second after walking for a few minutes.

“I just need to text Ashley something before I forget… work stuff” You didn’t care.

He typed slowly with his index instead of his thumbs which made you cringe a little.

“All good. You sure you don’t wanna go watch a gig, we don’t have to go back home.” He said softly.

“My tits hurt.” His eyes light up at the lie– unless you wanna have a sippy in the toilets before the show stars to help me out here”

“... I… I do…” 

If he blushed any harder he’d be a stop light, you smiled unable to stop chuckling at his stupid face.

“Didn’t peg you for the kind of guy to get freaky in the bathroom of a dingy bar… guess America’s son does have a real kinky side to him.”

“You have no idea darling… do you have a kinky side perhaps?”

“Fuck me.” Her stomach popped into your head, his hand caressing her bulge played on loop, his disgusting smile, all of him played all around you, memories of his touch burnt your skin, everybody had his disgusting mug on their faces– and find out.”

He took your hand and started walking faster, throwing away the bag of takeout into the lap of the first homeless person he’d seen.

The woman looked at Eric as he said goodbye to your parents, her phone buzzed, turning around to hide her screen, a text message from with a receipt for 25,000 dollars deposited on her account, as well as a doctor’s appointment booking.

She signed with relief.

“Understood.” she texted back.

[lipstickmarks]

Steven to the Rescue

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader Category: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff Warnings: none Content: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing, making out in public, reader has a terrible horrible no good very bad week and steven is there for her, Steven’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch, reader getting princess treatment, reader is kinda corporate girlie coded, steven being smooth, steven can cook, steven might be slightly ooc bc he is my silly putty and i am bending him to my will

Steven loved his job. He loved going into work everyday to consume any and all things related to egyptology. It’s what makes him able to withstand the abuse from Donna– which is lessened now that he’s been promoted to tour guide and she technically isn’t his supervisor anymore. But today, he simply does not want to go. 

He’s been watching you pace around his kitchen nervously for the past five minutes, checking your phone, watch, and laptop in quick succession. It had been… a less than stellar week for you.

Firstly, your job has been stressing you out by offloading duties onto you that weren’t in your job description because someone else had quit unexpectedly. Then, there was an error with your bank and your paycheck wasn’t deposited so you had to wait an extra 3 days to pay your bills. On top of it all, your phone service provider was having some sort of nationwide glitch so you barely had any service. 

Not only did you have twice the workload but you weren’t getting any of your work emails on time. Plus, you had to be in constant contact with the bank to sort out their issue. It’s why you’d come over to Steven’s flat before work, to use his internet and hopefully get a better signal. Plus, you two wanted to see each other. 

Steven had made some cranberry muffins and vegan egg bites for the two of you but your plate remained untouched while you paced around, waiting for a bar. 

“Love,” Steven murmured, reaching out to grab your elbow. You looked up from the laptop you were cradling in your arms and Steven nearly sighed out loud at the sight of your eyes. Beautiful, but so so tired. The universe has been running his favorite person ragged and it hurt him to see you so downtrodden by life. “You really should eat something before work.” 

You sighed and sat down your devices, trading them for a muffin. Steven cracked a smile at how your demeanor visibly changed once you took a bite. You always swore Steven put some kind of happy elixir into his food because it never failed to bring your spirits up. You gobbled up one muffin and reached for another. 

“Thank you for breakfast.” 

Steven leaned over and kissed the side of your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, darling. Hate to see you so out of sorts.” 

With you finally eating, Steven finished getting dressed. He had to go into work earlier than you did so he let you stay and finish doing what you needed to do. Before he left, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a soft kiss. 

“I’m off then, darling. You’ll be okay here?” 

You gave him a reassuring nod as you swallowed a bite. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna finish up in a little bit. I have a feeling today is going to be better.” 

Steven beamed at you. He kissed you once, twice, three times and he knew if we went for a fourth, he’d cave and stay home with you. 

“Right, I’d better get going before I lose my job again.” But Steven made no move to leave. He was staring at you with that dreamy look, the one that had been perpetually fixed on his face ever since you two started dating two months ago. Steven was the perfect boyfriend. Gentle, thoughtful, and he adored you so much. 

“Go,” You told him. “I’ll be fine, really.” 

Steven gave you one last squeeze before walking out the door. 

—----------

Steven was finishing up a tour with a school field trip and he was buzzing from how well it went. Usually, preteens were their own unique breed of nasty– making inappropriate noises, laughing obnoxiously, and just generally being awful but a boy and girl had been asking tons of insightful questions, spurring Steven on and letting him flex his breadth of knowledge. And if there was any snark, the teacher shut it down expeditiously so Steven could continue. 

It was probably the best tour he’d given since he started working there. 

Plus, earlier in the morning, the curator had pulled him aside and said they were looking for someone to give virtual tours that they could record and post online. If he got it, it would mean a pay bump and more benefits. 

Things were finally going his way!

The group was just starting to shuffle off for lunch when Steven spotted you, standing off to the side of the museum entrance. His whole face broke out into a grin and his heart skipped a beat, but that elation faded when he saw your eyes. 

You had been crying. 

As soon as everyone was gone, Steven crossed the room to you. You both reached for each other. His hands fell to your hips and you clutched his bicep. 

“Love, what’s happened?” 

You tried to smile but your eyes were bloodshot and puffy. You were holding back tears and you looked like you were on the precipice of a complete breakdown. Like if someone pricked you with a sewing needle, you’d pop. 

When you spoke, it came out small and broken. 

“I tried to call you but my phone—” Your voice died on the word and Steven’s grip tightened around you. 

“Darling?” 

“I came to ask for a favor. My apartment… they called me while I was at work. A pipe burst.” Your lip quivered. “All my stuff is ruined.” 

Steven’s eyes widened. 

“No.”

You nodded, fat tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“They said it’s gonna take three weeks to fix it.” You started wringing your hands nervously and took a steadying breath before you spoke again. “I was hoping I could stay with you.”

Steven’s answer is an immediate yes. 

“Absolutely, love. Anything you need.” 

He couldn’t stand it anymore and he pulled you into a tight hug. Your head fell lamely against his chest and he felt your tears soaking through his shirt but he didn’t mind. Not one bit. You peered up at him, face hot and flushed with tears.

“You’re sure it won’t be a problem? We haven’t been dating that long and I don’t want it to be…” You floundered, searching for the right word but Steven knew exactly what you meant. He caught your hand with his and brought it up to kiss the back of it. 

“It won’t be. It'll be like a slumber party, yeah? We’ll bake cookies and watch films. It’ll be fun.”

You nodded but Steven could tell you weren’t convinced. After the week you’d been having, what reason did you have to believe anything else was going to go right for you? You looked like you were a single moment away from shattering entirely. 

“Do you want to leave now? I can take the rest of the day off. I can find someone to cover my afternoon tours.” 

You shook your head and wiped your eyes.

“No. No, I have to go back to work. We have an important meeting.” You sniffed. Steven’s heart broke seeing you like this. You just looked so defeated. 

Steven thought hard for a moment. How could he make this better for you? How could he lighten your load? 

“How about this? I’ll pick you up after work. We’ll stop by your flat and get anything we need and then we’ll go back to mine, hm?” He brushed the falling hair out of your eyes. “We’ll get a takeaway, watch your favorite show, I’ll even let you braid my hair if you like.” 

You chuckled a bit. 

“Can we get dessert?” 

Steven kissed your forehead. 

“Anything you want, love.”

You nodded and a genuine smile returned to your face. 

“Alright, well I better get back. I’m on my lunch break and it’s gonna take me 15 minutes to get back across town.” 

Steven stopped you before you could leave.

“Darling, have you eaten lunch?” 

You looked sheepish when you shook your head. Steven wouldn’t be having that. Wordlessly, he laced your fingertips with his and lead you down to the employee lockers. He opened up his where the only contents were a book of Egyptology, his spare glasses, a Tawaret funko pop, his lunch box, and a picture of you taped to the inside. 

He pulled out his lunchbox and placed it in your arms.

“Steven, no.” You gasped. “I can’t take your lunch.” 

You took his lunch. 

No matter how much protesting you did, Steven insisted, waving off your concerns with a promise that he would get something from a food truck at lunch. He hailed a taxi for you before you could argue any further. 

“Steven, I don’t have cab fare.” You said with wide eyes as the taxi pulled up. “Remember? My bank–”

He pulled out his own wallet and handed the driver his bank card. 

“Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend going across town on public transport. Someone might steal you away from me.” 

You flushed. Your stomach was doing happy flips from feeling so taken care of. Steven took his card back from the driver and tucked it away. You were full on crying now as you wrapped your arms around him and weeped into his chest. 

“It’s alright, love.” He murmured in your ear. 

You pulled back to kiss him. It was eager and much too sloppy to do in broad daylight on the steps of his place of work but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Thank you for going to all this trouble for me.” You mumbled as you pulled away. 

“It’s no trouble at all, love.” He opened up the cab food for you and didn’t shut it until you were inside. “I’ll pick you up at your office at the end of the day, okay?” 

You nodded and Steven leaned his head through the window to give you one last kiss. 

“Last chance to play hooky with me for the rest of the day?” 

You giggled and shook your head. 

“Tempting, but no. I’ve got to go be a grownup.” 

Steven smiled at you and mouthed a silent “okay.” He stepped back onto the curb and once the road was clear, your cab pulled out into the street. 

Once Steven was out of view, you opened up his lunchbox. He had a habit of overpacking in case he was stuck on the bus for a while and needed a snack, which came in handry because you were starving. You ate his sandwich, chips, soda, half a bag of grapes, and a cookie. 

At a red light, your driver turned back to you. 

“Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She swooned. 

“You don’t know the half of it.” You giggled. “This is his lunch.” 

She gasped.

“Shut up! That is so cute! Oh my gosh, you’re so lucky.” 

You grinned.

“Yeah. I am.” 

—-----------

The rest of the afternoon went painfully slow for you.Thankfully, you got so busy with work that you temporarily forgot you were broke, without a phone, and temporarily homeless. 

When it was finally time to go, you headed toward the front desk, intending to use the landline to call Steven but when you stepped into the hall, he was already there. You had to do a double take at first because you thought you might have been dreaming or seeing things. But no, this was real life. 

Steven Grant, your nerdy, sweet, perfect boyfriend was chatting to your office receptionist with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

“I never realized the museum was free! I always thought it cost money, that’s why I haven’t brought my kids.” The receptionist said, embroiled in a conversation with Steven. 

“Loads of people think that, actually but yeah it’s free entry. It only costs money for tours. Though, if you’re bringing your little ones, I can’t recommend the tours enough. You get loads of extra information that just reading the pamphlets won’t give you. Not to toot my own horn but I give a pretty educational tour if I do say so myself.” Steven said with a relaxed smile. Ever since he’d been promoted to tour guide, he’s been so much more sure of himself. He’s still the goofy, sweet, bumbling nerd he always has been but the constant exposure to his passion has cushioned him in a cozy little bubble of Egyptology, vegan baking, and you. How could he not feel content? 

“I think I’ll take them next weekend.” The receptionist said as you arrived at the desk. “I’d like a tour with you as well.” She looked up from scribbling the museum information on a Post-It note and saw you. “Oh, here you are, darling! Does this sweet man belong to you?” 

Just as she asked, Steven held out the bouquet to you. Red roses, pink tulips, white calla lilies, and some hydrangeas to fill it out. 

“He does.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. You took the bouquet from Steven and smelled the flowers. Steven gently pulled your purse strap off of your shoulder and took his lunch box out of your hands, holding them both and holding his free hand out for you. 

“Are you ready, love? The cab’s waiting.” 

Do not cry. Do not cry in your place of work. Do not cry because your boyfriend is being so sweet and you’ve never felt this cared for in your life. 

To avoid your voice coming out high and squeaky, you nodded and took his outstretched hand. Bidding goodbye to the receptionist, he led you out the doors and into the cab, leading you home. 

*****

It feels strange.

You’re not sure why. You’ve spent the night at Steven’s flat before, had dinner, read books, spent all night in his bed, but this felt different. 

You were standing in Steven’s bathroom, hair damp from your shower. The second you got back to his flat, you’d made a beeline to the shower, eager to scrub all of your misfortune off. And you felt so strange, so out of place. 

It was a little more intimate knowing that you’d be here for three entire weeks, which put a decent amount of pressure on a fairly new relationship. You and Steven would be seeing each other in undesirable states, have to give each other space, and somehow maintain the dynamic of your relationship despite these new circumstances. 

You unloaded the grocery bag of toiletries that you picked up from your flat on the way here. Thankfully your hygiene essentials and skincare weren’t damaged. The same couldn’t be said for your clothes, though. 

At least it was the weekend and you didn’t have to worry about outfits for work. You could just lounge around in the sweater and boxers Steven had given you, or nothing if you preferred. Steven certainly wouldn’t mind. 

“Love?” Steven’s voice came through the bathroom door. “The food just got here. I’ll queue up a movie for us.”

“Alright.” You called out. “Be out in a minute.”

“Take your time, darling.” 

What on Earth did you do to deserve that wonderful, wonderful man? 

After changing, you stepped out into the living room where Steven had arranged the takeout boxes, poured you a glass of wine, and queued up “Tangled” on the TV. 

“Steven…” You plopped down on the couch next to him. “We could’ve cooked, you didn’t have to order out for me. I don’t want you going to any trouble for me.” 

Steven looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes that only love could be the catalyst for. He took your chin between his fingers and angled your face to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

“Darling, why would it be any trouble to care for you?” 

And just like that, as quickly as a match burns out, all of your anxieties and apprehension faded away. You didn’t feel out of place in Steven’s flat or mistreated by the universe. Here, in Steven’s arms, you only felt loved.