#and i mentioned i had been thinking about getting one of the twelve packs of drinks she got

[moeblob]

[daycourtofficial]

Ferocious beasts with soft bellies

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 2.5k | warnings: mentions of pregnancy, some violence from dogs

Summary: Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.

Author’s note: hi everyone!!! Thanks for joining me this week, I hope you had a great time!! This one ends on a note I didn’t expect it to, but I do have plans to write follow-ups I kinda wanted to break this up into two. Also this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read as a standalone okay love ya bye 😘

Eris’s hounds were incredibly well-trained. He spent thousands of hours when they were pups instilling in them commands, tracking and hunting skills, and alerting him to intruders on the property.

At least, they used to be well-trained.

These days Clover, the leader of the pack, would not allow you out of her sight. All twelve hounds wandered through your house as they pleased, often keeping you company in Eris’s absence. They would lounge about, finding warm sunny spots throughout the house to take afternoon naps in. You’d usually have one or two lazily trail you around the house, staying in the beds you had placed in several of the rooms.

Lately their attachment and sudden devotion to you was getting out of hand. Clover was practically sewn into your side the way she followed you around - she hardly let you out of her sight, keeping an eye on you at all times, following you as you moved through the house. She was even beginning to ignore Eris’s commands, opting to stay at your feet, following you around the house, or with her head curled on your lap.

When you and Eris publicly began your mateship, you had begged him to allow the dogs into your shared bed. “Just one,” you had pouted, “I don’t like waking alone.”

Despite his grumbling, Eris had obliged your request. Things with your family were still quite rough - it had been almost a year by now since you left the Night Court, being unceremoniously abdicated from the throne. You had been in contact with most of your family by this point except for Rhysand, who was still refusing to speak with you since he forced you out of ‘his court’, as he had called it.

Despite your best efforts, Eris still felt guilty over it, the rift in your family caused by the discovery of your mateship. You usually tried to soothe him, not wanting him to feel guilt over the decisions you made. You would choose him over and over again, and problems with Rhysand or any member of your family were not going to stop that from continuing. Besides, his guilt would be better suited as ire towards Rhysand.

Sometimes you did use his guilt to get what you want.

Which is why it initially did take Clover much coaxing to jump into the bed at all, a notion she thought ridiculous at first, but once her paws melted into the mattress, she was quick to lay directly on your side of the bed, placing her head atop your pillow.

“Traitor,” Eris had muttered as you cuddled up to her, petting her soft head.

After getting her into the bed, Clover spent most nights curled up at your feet or by your side, your nights often spent squished between her long body and Eris’s. Soon enough, you were back to asking Eris for another one to sleep in your bed.

“So Clover doesn’t get lonely.”

He spent ages debating with you that no, she doesn’t need a companion in bed with her. It was ridiculous. The three of you were enough for one bed, and he hated to think of how a second hound would complicate things.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he did quite enjoy it when he’d throw an arm around you in the middle of the night and his fingers would meet Clover’s soft fur from the other side of you.

It also soothed some minor worry in him to have you protected from all sides, despite your being more than capable of defending yourself. The mating bond was a precious gift, but it was also a minor curse with the way it coursed through his veins, needing to protect you, to keep you safe, and to keep you both satiated.

“Er, our bed’s plenty big enough for more hounds.”

“Yes, but they’ll get too spoiled. You’ve already turned Clover rotten.”

“I have done no such thing,” you cross your arms, trying to look utterly appalled at his accusation. He gives you a pointed look, then turns his gaze behind you.

Your gaze turned to the hound seated behind you, her long limbs spread across your bed, her little leg kicks and soft snores bringing a small chuckle to your lips that you quickly turned into a scoff.

“That proves nothing.”

In the several months since allowing Clover and Cinnamon in your bed, they were still obedient. They left the bed without disturbing you in the mornings, they rotated who laid next to you and who slept at the foot of the bed, and they would never go to bed without either you or Eris prompting them to.

That all stopped a few weeks ago.

Eris’s hounds had always been fond of you - Eris had spoken of them for centuries before you were able to see any of them. The way he had spoken of them had helped you see he was capable of caring about something that wasn’t himself.

That was its own revelation.

Meeting the hounds was quite nerve-wracking for you - he told you they were quite cold to new fae, and they had detested Lucien’s overeagerness to befriend them - a grudge they still held many centuries later.

“I believe they smelled the desperation leaking from his pores, tainted their perception of him,” he quipped.

Despite Eris’ warnings, you were not prepared for them to warm up to you as much as they had. He brought out his most trusted hound, Clover, to meet you, and you’re not sure if it was the way Eris’ scent was forever entwined with your own, but she warmed to you immediately. She circled your legs before sitting directly next to you, placing her head beneath your hand.

“What does this mean?” you whisper to Eris, not wanting to scare her or set her off.

“She wants you to pet her.”

Your confused expression makes his eyes dance with amusement.

“Surely you understand that means to stroke her head.” He raises his hand in demonstration, petting the air with a bemused look on his face.

You huff, “she could bite me, I apologize for wanting to wait a moment before touching a creature you’ve told me is dangerous.”

“She is dangerous, but surely she’s capable of being more than one thing.”

Nowadays she was capable of such a feat - she was not only beloved by you, but she was also a constant thorn in your side.

It started with subtle things, conversations with Eris where you tried to express how odd they were behaving one night while you sat in Eris’ study, helping him sort through correspondence from his brothers about the lands they oversee.

“Clover followed me into the bathroom.”

“Perhaps I should put some cushions for her to lay down while you bathe. I’m fond of the sight, perhaps she is too.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Er. She’s behaving strangely.”

Eris set the letter from Moros down, his attention fixed on you. “You spoil her, she is merely being affectionate. You’ll get used to it.”

Eris was wrong, Clover’s behavior only getting worse as the days went on.

“Clover, stay.”

Clover’s brown eyes observed you, your finger pointing toward the floor indicating for her to stay, tone full of finality - a princess’s tone, a high lady’s tone. You were determined to get the hound to listen to you, commanding her to stay in your chambers.

You passed through the door, heading down to speak with one of your advisor’s who insisted he speak with you as soon as possible. You rolled your eyes just thinking about his current issue with one of the trade routes that flows into Spring and how last time he wanted to speak to you, you enjoyed watching the vein on his forehead throb at your reluctance to take his ill advice.

Perhaps during this meeting the vein will pop, at least then the meeting would come with entertainment.

You look down and are startled when you see Clover’s body in step with yours, her fur shimmering in the light as if she were smoke rising from the ground.

Cauldron boil me, Eris is going to kill me if I’ve ruined all of their training.

You stop, pointing in the opposite direction, whispering, “go, shoo Clover.” You don’t even want to consider how she got through the closed door.

Clover just sits in front of you, her gaze piercing, seeing something you can’t. You blow out a breath, hands running through your hair, “okay, you may come with me.”

You’d regret those words.

Clover strode into the room before you, sniffing the air as her nails clacked across the floor. Her focus shifted to the male in the room, Flint’s eyes narrowing at her. She moved her body closer to the floor as she stalked towards him, the hair along her spine raising into the shape of a fin. Her ears were pulled back, a low rumble emitting from her chest.

“Clover!”

Your voice is chastising, but Clover does not let her guard down as she slowly approaches Flint. His eyes are full of fear as she approaches, her feet circling him. He spins in a circle, not letting her eyes leave his.

“Clover!”

You whistle her stop command, but she ignores it. She circled Flint the way she circles mice and rabbits.

She always loved playing with her food.

“What is this? Control your hound.” Flint’s voice is annoyed as Clover raises her head, baring her teeth at him.

“I’m trying.”

You move forward, reaching to grab Clover’s neck, instead missing and falling forward towards Flint. His arms catch your forearms, but Clover was not a fan of his touch and her teeth swiftly sank into the leg of his trousers. Her grip was strong as she tugged at his pants, and he began stammering, shaking his leg trying to rid his pants of her. He backed away toward the door, and once he reached the threshold, Clover let go of her grip, almost causing the male to fall over.

Her growls echoed down the hall as she watched him run down the hall before scampering back towards you, confusion and shock on your face at all that just transpired.

The hound just licked your face gently before laying next to you, her head in your lap.

You sighed, certain that Eris would kill you for ruining Clover.

Later that night, Eris made hisbway to your shared chambers, a bit surprised to find you already asleep. The hour wasn’t too late, however he had caught you dozing while reading over some requests regarding equipment for some farms.

He stripped his clothes, the finery being replaced by some loose trousers before moving towards the bed to find that the hounds had placed themselves on either side of you, Cinnamon occupying his spot on the bed.

“Cinnamon, down.”

The brown hound does not listen to the command, the only response a long sigh of her breath. He stared at the hound - a seventy year old beast who was one of the easiest hounds he’d ever trained, knowing how he expected her to behave from an incredibly young age.

Cinnamon was no Clover, but she was second in their chain of command. Clover was on your other side, soft snores coming from her snout.

There was plenty of room in the bed for the two of you, the two hounds, and, truthfully, several more hounds. Your preference for larger beds from when you had your wings never left after you lost them.

Eris laid in the bed, determined he could outmaneuver his hounds. He moved a hand out to your face, stroking your hair before a soft growl cut him off.

His hand stilled, eyes wide at such a response from Cinnamon. His nostrils begin flaring, heat rising to the surface of his skin in anger. He could feel the roar of the bond in his ears, frustration boiling within him at the defiance and aggression at him touching his own mate.

He tried to swallow it down, refusing to erupt in his own bed while you slept peacefully next to him. His fuse was a short one, his temper always loosely held back by a quick tongue that allowed him to loosen the reins ever so slightly.

He watched them, their bodies curled around your own and thought about your complaints of them following you around, believing it to be a consequence of your softness towards them.

You were spoiling them rotten. You were a few weeks away from giving them table scraps, for Mother’s sake. But then his thoughts veered into Flint’s description of what occurred, Clover guarding you from Flint’s touch like a mother hen-

His heart stalls in his chest, a heavy realization settling over him as he sits up, Sierra growling softly at his abrupt movements.

You were pregnant. You had to be - it was the only logical conclusion other than all twelve of his hounds losing their minds simultaneously. They must be able to scent it on you before fae senses could pick them up.

He wonders briefly if Lucien’s magical eye could see it.

Eris lay frozen on the bed, his thoughts swirling with what to do, how he was going to handle this. He was still quite new to his tenure as high lord - the work wasn’t unexpected by any means, however his position was still quite vulnerable - new power always attracted violence attempting to see how far that power extended.

Things were still difficult in your personal lives - he and Lucien were on tenuous speaking terms, you and Rhysand were not on speaking terms. The two of you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

It was all so damn complicated - you hadn’t had a coronation as high lady yet, wanting to wait until Rhysand would show up to have the ceremony. The logistics of a babe at such a crucial turning point politically could open Eris up to glaring vulnerabilities.

Long fingers tap at his chest, trying to keep himself somewhat grounded in reality. He had no confirmation for this - his reasoning behind such a theory were founded on the strange behavior of his hounds. He was being a ridiculous fool to get so worked up over unconfirmed theories.

Yet the image of a swaddled little thing kept gnawing at his mind - tiny toes, a tiny nose, tiny fingers wrapping around his. He had adored his brothers when they were much younger, when the world under Beron could be disguised as a good place. Perhaps he could do it.

Eris laid awake for several hours, your soft breathing calming him as he sat and thought about all the possible ways he could ruin all of this.

A tiny part of him let himself hope that, in spite of it all, he wouldn’t.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Eris taglist: @secret-third-thing

Thanks for reading 💕

[bright-molina]

the equation of you - prologue

☆ Tyler Owens x reader ☆ Twisters SMAU!! ☆ synopsis: You've known Kate Carter for years and never once has she introduced you to a single friend, always claiming you were the only one she needed. That all changes when one day she declares she wants you to meet the infamous Tornado Wrangler himself, perfectly unaware you know very well who he is already. ☆ Warnings: none for now ☆ A/N: guess who's once again back with yet another social media au... this time in hybrid format because i love them all too much to not dive into this world. please enjoy because i'm having a BLAST with this so far and i have truly SO much planned

The dominoes cascaded in a line...

“And with that I think that’s all we got this time. Tune in next time to find out the answer to that burnin’ question I know you all have - is it or is it not possible to shoot fireworks up into a movin’ tornado? Remember, if you feel it -”

The video playing on the screen of your phone cuts to black after one last wink to the camera and it makes your eyes roll. It is, however, paired with a smile. The little buzz you feel deep inside cuts through the already fading headache as you take another bite of your lunch and a deep sigh leaves you. 

But the conversations going on all around you echoes against the walls of the room you’re sitting in and a pang of loneliness shoots through you instead.

It’d been easier to get things done with Kate sitting in the cubicle next to yours. The feeling is followed by a shot of baseless worry when you send her another message and it remains unread. 

So maybe you had gotten a little more anxious after she came back from her trip home. She’d all but burst into your office with a wild and scared and excited look in her eyes when she told you she was heading back out into the field. You’d helped her pack and made her promise to stay safe and tried to push away the uneasiness you felt knowing she’d be out there in the middle of a storm.

One check in with her quickly turned into several. Every twelve hours on the dot you were sending her a picture of you sitting at home or at work and Kate indulged you by responding with pictures of her wherever she happened to be. Beside a shiny white Storm Par truck. The inside of a dingy motel room. A field surrounded by dark gray skies. Back home in her childhood room. 

And then, eventually, a hospital bed. You’d called her seconds after receiving that one with anxious tears in your eyes and she answered with no hesitation. The stories she told you over the phone of her last few days back in Oklahoma had your blood pressure skyrocketing and your heart constricting inside you. 

You knew what these storms were like. You’d grown up in a place similar to the one Kate grew up in. You’d watched them on screens and seen the devastation and learned about them all you could. But this was different. This one was huge. It was bad. And on top of that, your best friend had thrown herself into the middle of it and made a discovery that could change everything. Because of course she would. 

Kate had come home with bruises and cuts already almost completely healed but it didn’t stop you from clinging to her for a few days. She was kind enough to never mention a word of it. To never point out the fear that she knew still plagued you a little bit. But she always reassured you she was okay and that was enough. 

She was better than okay, you figured, considering she’d immediately started telling you about the nicer parts of her trip. Like seeing her mom again and catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. 

Including these, apparently. Ones you didn’t yet know the names of. Ones who were coming into town. Ones that, by the look of it, she wanted you to meet. And go out with. With her. And it made all the anxiety fade away because she really was okay. She was healing a little more. It made you smile. 

The timer you’d set went off and you knew that the comfort of your apartment was within reach now. As soon as you wrangled your tour groups, treated them to some delightfully dramatized demonstrations, and sat them in their seats for the space show you were home free. 

Except Kate had several hours left until she got off work. And she had something to explain to you. And you were almost positive the curiosity would kill you before then.

“Okay, so,” Kate settles a little deeper into the couch and turns to face you while the credits of the movie you’d been watching while finally eating dinner played on the screen. “I think you’ll really like them.” 

“Oh I absolutely trust your judgment,” You turn to face her too and you can see her excitement ready to bubble over. “Tell me about them.” 

It doesn’t take much prompting other than that and a smile flashes on Kate’s face. “Well, I met them back home. They’re this big group of storm chasers, too, and the five of them are actually the ones who helped me adapt the formula and research I'd been working on and were gonna help test it in the field but you know how that ended.”

“Wait hang on -”

“They’re okay,” Kate knows what question you’re about to ask before you even have a chance to ask it. You’d always been an empathetic person from the moment she’d met you. You’d noticed the little things about her and listened when she finally opened up to you and never for a moment let her feel alone. If there was one constant in her life here it was you. “A little banged up but alright for the most part.”

Your brows furrow and you give her a look that feels much too serious for you when you ask, “What does ‘for the most part’ mean?” 

“Well there might’ve been a minor injury or two but it’s okay!”

“Kate, I swear -”

“Logically speaking, if the injuries were more than minor they wouldn’t be coming to New York City of all places.”

“I guess you have a point.” You sigh, defeated, knowing very well she has a good point and Kate takes it as a win. “So are they here for you or for some fun?” 

“Very funny,” Kate gives you a deadpanned look but another grin breaks across her face soon after. You watch as she reaches for her phone and the blanket around her shoulders slips down a little bit. She starts scrolling as she talks to you. “They’re doing an interview on some talk show, I can’t remember the name of it. That’s what they're here for technically but I convinced them to stay a couple days longer. Figured it’d give me a chance to introduce them to you that way.”

“Wait an interview?” You stare at her again and try to recall every single little detail she’s told you about her trip all at once. A frown appears on your face when you can’t immediately figure it out. “Who exactly are you friends with?”

Kate flips her phone towards you and on the screen is a picture of five people. “They call themselves Tornado Wranglers.”

You don’t say a single word. The only thing you do is stare and you must look shocked or confused or completely dumbfounded because Kate continues quickly. 

“It's a weird name, I know. I still can’t figure out what it means exactly but I promise you’ll think they’re really cool too!” 

Kate is saying words, you know that. You know she’s speaking but you don’t hear her, not while your mind is spinning like one of those storms she loves chasing so much. She tells you their names, that much you process. Dani. Dexter. Boone. Lily. Tyler. 

“They, uh,” You force the words out of your mouth after she’s given you a brief explanation of what they each do. “They definitely sound like Tornado Wranglers”

“They’re supposed to get in tomorrow.” Kate drops her phone and her eyes narrow as she takes in the look on your face. Your eagerness has faded away and has been replaced with something else. Something she can’t quite pinpoint. “It’s okay if you don’t want to meet them! I know you’ve been busy with work lately and it is kinda last minute. We don’t have to -”

“Kate,” You launch yourself forward far enough to take her hand that wasn’t holding her phone. The look is shaken off your face quickly and just like that the excitement is back. She relaxes a little bit at the sight of it. “I’d be happy to meet your friends.”

Kate hears the unspoken words between you. The way you’re reminding her of how much love and care you have for her. Of the way you’re right there, no matter what. It puts her at ease the way it has so many times before. 

“Tell me when and I’m there.”

Kate was definitely gonna kill you for this one.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Twelve Days: Part 4 ^

Part 4 is here! Thank you all for your patience:) I hope you like this part, it goes more into the background of things for Harry.

Warnings: infidelity, verbal fighting/arguing, mentions of alcohol dependence and gambling, fear of abandonment

WC: 7.2K

It had been over a week since you had all returned home and you were still just waiting in the silence. You assumed that the invitation your sister had made you to spend New Year’s eve with her and Harry early on in the trip had been revoked because you’d heard nothing from him but also, nothing from her. So you had spent it alone at home watching a comfort show. You’d ordered in dinner and had poured all your energy into making a strong cocktail before planting yourself on your couch for the night. You had eventually fallen asleep but were awoken by your parents’ call after midnight to wish you a happy new year and with that out of the way you proceeded to get to bed. 

You had to admit that you felt sad again. You were sad in the way that meant that you hadn’t unpacked from your trip and were still living out of the suitcase. Sad in a way that made you feel like taking the garbage to the dumpster a couple hundred feet away was too much to ask of you. And on top of that, the anxiety was back and you were also scared. Scared that your sister would use this thing she witnessed between you and Harry as the perfect opportunity to bring up her divorce to your family without having to take any responsibility for her actions. A part of you knew she was more mature than that. But the part of her that sought out approval and wanted to look good in front of others was capable of leading her to do anything to prevent any sort of public shame, even if it meant throwing someone else under the bus. It hadn’t been the first time she would’ve done so. So knowing that made it a very real threat.

It wasn’t until the 5th when Harry had finally reached out to you to say Happy New Year, but largely to tell you what was going on. And as you expected, she had brought up to him that talking about the divorce warranted a conversation with your parents where she could explain that her feelings had changed and that he could say that he actually was into you. You scoffed at the news but were not surprised that she had thought that up. Harry did press on her that, that wasn’t going to happen. Especially after what she had pulled on the holiday! So she decided that then until he was ready to also share about his situation with you, then they’d have to continue acting like nothing was wrong even if they were still going through the divorce.  

“That’s just ridiculous! Nothing would have ever happened with us if she hadn’t been in love with someone else the whole time!” You said with frustration dripping from your voice. 

“I know… but I mean, she’s still telling herself that you were hearing her out to mess with her and to make yourself available to me.”

“By making her think about how her actions were impacting you?”

“She hates being wrong.” He hummed and you sighed. You knew that all too well. “Hey, I’m not going to allow her to scape goat you, Y/N.” He assured her.

“I know. Thank you.” You responded as you just stared up at the ceiling of your apartment. 

It was significantly smaller than your shared place with Ash, even if it was also a one bedroom. You were glad that you’d had clients from the past who were eager to hire you back on. Your October to December, up until you left for the holidays, had been absolutely jam packed with dinner party bookings because of Halloween and Friendsgiving/Friendsmas things and thankfully, had replenished at least half of the savings you’d used on the sudden move back. And now for the new year, you’d received calls from at least eight different clients about meal prepping for their new lifestyle goals. It was always like that and in the end, most of them would fall off the wagon but you’d then be left with at least four clients who kept you around for the whole year and one or two who wanted you in their home cooking for their family three to four times a week. It wasn’t all that bad and you were certain that if you put in a little extra effort, your meal preps could keep on an extra client or two. 

“Y/N?” Harry inquired after the silence between you.

“M’here, just…thinking.” You said softly and he hummed.

“I’m going to try to see you this weekend. I know that it’s a drive but I don’t care.” He said to you and you smiled slightly as he knew the argument you were going to make and squandered it before you had the chance to present it. 

“Well I do care! And what if I don’t want to see you?” You asked with a small smile on your lips.

“Oh please…” he mumbled. “Besides, I start classes next Monday and it always gets so busy. This might be one of the few opportunities I get, you know?” He reminded.

“Fine…” you sighed nonchalantly and he chuckled. But truly you were overjoyed that he wanted to come see you. Santa Barbara wasn’t really that far from Sherman Oaks. Well, with traffic it was a nightmare, but the fact that he wanted to regardless meant a lot to you.

“Okay, I need to go! But I’ll let you know when I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Bye.” You chirped.

A FEW DAYS LATER…

Your week had been busy but Harry’s visit is what was helping you push through to the weekend It was nice to have those days free of work because the weekends did tend to be a very requested time for events and such, but somehow, spending time with him seemed more important than making a living. And on Friday morning you woke up with an excited feeling flowing through your veins. The ability to see and spend time with Harry made the sadness melt away enough. You were looking forward to it so much and you wanted to do something extra nice to show your appreciation for his effort, so you cooked. You decided on one of his favorite foods, a lamb wellington. It was a bit of a complicated dish but you’d made it before. Once it was actually for him when he got hired at the university and your sister had organized a little congratulatory dinner. You remembered that he seemed happy with it, so you went out and got what you needed for the dish.  

While you were out, you got a text from Harry that he was planning to be in around 5pm, which was perfect because with prep time and cooking, the meal would be ready shortly before his arrival. With tidying up, showering, and getting dressed and a little made up, the time flew by and you had just set the dish in the oven when some knocks on your door startled you a bit. You found it a bit odd because you hadn’t received a text from Harry to buzz him into your building, but regardless, you hurried over to the door and got it open without a second thought.

“You’re a little early!” You chuckled, but the joy was immediately wiped off from your face when you saw Ash standing at your door with a slightly confused look on his face. You were frozen in place, your heart started to pound erratically as all of these emotions started to drown out any logic that lived in you. There was sadness, confusion, relief, frustration, and so much rage. Your vision started to blur as the tears collected in your waterline “What the hell are you doing here?” You barely got out and Ash frowned.

“You blocked me.”

“Yeah, because I don’t want to fucking speak to you! I want nothing to do with you!” You reminded. “How’d you even find me?” You sniffled as the tears started running.

“Bea told me.” He informed, you sighed. Bea was your friend from the east coast. She was the nanny for one of the family’s you worked for and she had come to visit in the summer. “Don’t be upset at her. It took a lot of convincing.” 

“I want nothing to do with you, Ash.” You chuckled through your tears.

“I know! And I know I deserve that! But I also need you to know that when I said I made a mistake, I mean it! I’m not just saying this because of the crippling loneliness I’ve endured since you came back here. I need you to know that I was just scared. I freaked out because…I’ve never wanted this with another person and the second I just started to question whether this would be forever or if we would just become another statistic I just…chose to protect myself. I was an asshole! I was selfish!”

“I know that! And I don’t care! I don’t want you here.” You replied.

“You were expecting someone else.” He said and you nodded.

“I was.” You confirmed.

“You’ve already moved on?” Ash asked sadly.

“No! Or maybe, I don’t know…” you groaned, “But you have completely overstepped!” You cried.

“I know that, but I love you. I am still in love with you, Y/N.” He confessed. You could see the tears welling up in his own eyes and could hear the desperation in his tone. “I made a mistake. A fucking huge mistake! But I am here because I believe in us. I believe in what we had and I would be a bigger idiot than I am already if I just let you go.” 

“What the fuck…” you scoffed in disbelief as you started to cry harder.

“Sweetheart-”

“You need to leave.” You stated firmly, “I can’t believe you just show up here and thought this’ll fix everything you put me through.” You sobbed.

“I had to try. And I will keep trying because you’re worth fighting for. When you’re ready to talk, let me know. I’ll be waiting.” He assured you before walking off. You groaned and slammed your door closed and slid down it as you started to sob. 

The audacity Ash had made you so angry. And then again, the immense effort that Ash was making confused you. Of course you had lingering feelings for Ash, you’d been together for years! But you had already accepted the fact that if someone loves you, they don’t make decisions for you. And the decision of calling off your engagement had never even been a discussion. You had no idea how long you’d been sitting on the ground and crying for but the next thing you knew, the smoke detector was going off and you glanced over to see some smoke starting to creep out of your oven.

“Shit!” You gasped and hurried over and turned it off before throwing the door open allowing the smelly, dark cloud to billow out. You were in a state of panic when you saw a burning piece of parchment paper at the bottom of the oven and quickly grabbed a pair of tongs to grab it and drop it in the damp sink. In your state of stress, you turned back and reached for the tray of your food worth hours of your hard work with your bare hand to try and salvage it from absorbing the smokey scent. “Fuck!” You exclaimed in pain as the piping hot tray burned your hand and you let it go instinctively. 

You watched in horror as the wellington fell off and broke apart as it hit the oven door and then the ground. This brought on a fresh wave of tears and you started to cry even harder as the frustration got the best of you. The dish was actually looking perfect and you were mentally beating yourself up over not checking the tray properly before putting it in the oven. The parchment paper had probably been stuck to the bottom of the tray and you hadn’t noticed before putting it inside. You let out a frustrated scream and grabbed the nearest object before hurling it on the ground. Thankfully, it was just a plastic bowl you’d left out for salad, but that completely destroyed the wellington on your kitchen floor. Not like it was salvageable anyway…Then, you heard some knocks on your door again and felt your rage start to boil up inside of you again, you stood quickly and practically stamped over to the door with your chest heaving from the anger you were feeling, it was going to explode.

“Ash, I said to leave me the fuck alone!” You seethed and everything bad that you felt getting ready to explode inside of you just melted away when you saw that it was Harry standing there with a bag of food from one of your favorite restaurants and a bouquet of flowers in the other. His expression fell in concern when he saw the state you were in. Mascara all run, face swollen from crying. He just set everything down quickly and pulled you into his arms.

“Ash was here?” He asked as he rubbed your back gently and you nodded as you sniffled.

“Just missed each other by like 15-20 minutes.” you informed.

“Let’s get inside.” Harry said as he started to pull back.

“Sorry if it smells like smoke.” You apologized as his thumbs wiped under your eyes to clean up the smeared mascara. “Had a meltdown after Ash left,” You started to explain, “And I forgot about the lamb wellington I’d made for you and thought it was burning but it was actually a piece of parchment paper and then I tried to pull it out but it was hot and I burned my hand so bad! And I dropped it and everything I wanted to do for you is all ruined now and-”

“Hey.” He stopped you as he cradled your face in his hands, “Breathe.” Harry said gently and you nodded and took a shaky inhale. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.” He smiled. “And we need to take a look at your hand.” He said.

“Of course. And well, I know that dish is your favorite, so I wanted to do something a little special for you.” You explained as you led him inside.

“I also brought your favorite though. Wanted to do something special for you too.” He explained as he retrieved the bag of food and the flowers and then set them on the kitchen counter. 

Once he’d done that, he saw the Wellington on the floor and felt sad for you. He knew it wasn’t an easy dish to make, it was quite tedious and required lengthy preparation. He didn’t even know if he had the heart to tell you that he couldn’t give a single fuck about wellingtons but he knew you’d find it humorous.

“Can I tell you something that’ll piss you off but also make you laugh?” He asked and you nodded.

“Go on then.” You invited him to continue.

“Lamb wellington is not my favorite food.” He disclosed and your brows furrowed, “Your sister just doesn’t know any other British food apart from a shepherd’s pie and just assumed it was that because my mum had shared with her that my nan would always make that for my birthday growing up. I actually fucking hate it.” He explained and you sputtered on a laugh and he started to laugh as well. “Well, usually. The one she asked you to make for me a few years ago? That was the best one I’d ever had in my life, so I still would’ve eaten it, happily.” He assured you, “But don’t feel bad for us not being able to eat it.”

“Got it.” You assured with a smile, “I actually just feel bad for the amount of money I spent on the lamb. That was like a tank of gas.” You mumbled playfully.

“Send me the invoice.” He shrugged and you giggled. “Seriously.” He insisted.

“Okay, professor money-bags…” you hummed as you slid your hands down to his and then winced when you touched. “Forgot about the burn…guess, that’s how happy I am to see you.” You said and he smiled before glancing down to inspect your hand.

“Oh, love…” he tutted as he saw the angry, red line in the shape of the edge of the tray burned into the palm of of your hand and the tips of your fingers were also burned. 

“Being a chef and all, I have the perfectly stocked up first aid kit.” You assured him.

“Be a good girl for me and go get it.” He said smoothly and you suddenly felt turned on.   A timid little grin painted itself on your lips as you felt your face warming as you blushed.

“Yes, sir.”  You giggled and started to turn away when he grabbed your waist and you turned back.

“Mmm-mm…try again.” He hummed with a devilish smirk and lust burning in his gaze. Your smile widened as realization set in.

“You have a daddy kink?” You inquired through a disbelieving giggle.

“Yeah. But only with some people.”

“Is that your way of saying that it’s not a thing with my sister?” You asked for clarity and he sighed.

“You had to say it aloud, didn’t you?” He asked through a slightly embarrassed smile and you giggled.

“I gotta keep you on your toes.” You excused and he smiled.

“Good to know. Now, go on.” He reminded you of your task and you nodded and hurried off. 

It wasn’t long before Harry had gotten some burn ointment on your hand, gotten a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a kitchen cloth on your palm, and had you take an ibuprofen for the pain. And minutes later you were set up at the dinner table and eating your favorite cannelloni. You hadn’t gone there simply because it was currently out of your price range, but how you missed this place. And of course, he had brought along some of their famous citrus tiramisu for dessert and a small box of cannoli for you to have over the next couple days. The time passed you by quickly after you guys decided to watch the Twilight saga after dinner. You were curled up beside Harry on your small couch as he glanced down at you as New Moon ended. 

“Just making sure you’re still awake.” He smiled.

“I am.”

“Okay, let’s start the next one.” He said as he reached for the remote.

“Only if you want! It’s nearly 11 and you have quite a drive back.” You said to him. “Though, I mean, if you want to stay over you totally can. I’d love to have you and I’m sure I have something that you can change into.” You said to him.

“I actually did bring an overnight bag just in case but I left it in my car. I just didn’t want to assume.” He explained and you smiled.

“Well, you’re always welcomed. And ummm, we should probably check you don’t have a ticket. The street parking here requires a permit. I can give you the visitor one to stick on your windshield.” You suggested and he nodded and smiled. After a few minutes you were both back up in your apartment, you were getting changed into your pajamas while Harry started his nightly routine.

“Do you want to do a face mask with me?” You asked as you peeked into the bathroom as he was lathering in his face wash.

“I’d love to!” He said happily and you gave him a thumbs up before sliding in and reaching for your makeup removing balm. Once you’d also washed your face you were both lathering on some of your Clarin’s mask. It was one of your splurge skincare items and you masked once a month so it lasted you a decent while. You guys cleaned up your kitchen and turned down the bed in just the time you needed before washing them off, and once you finished the rest of your skin care you were both in your bed, cuddled close and propped up against the pillows as you continued with Eclipse, the predicament Bella was in kind of reminded you of your sister.

“Hey, random but how did you pull off being able to spend the night?” You asked.

“Your sister left for San Diego last night. Obviously, she didn’t say explicitly that she was going with company but I saw a lingerie set in her luggage while she was packing so…”

“Sorry.” You sighed.

“I’m not. I get to be here with you.” He flirted and you smiled. “Do you want to talk about what happened with Ash?”

“No…just the same as before though, wanted me back.” You explained briefly and he hummed. “I’ve decided to never speak to the girl who told him where I live again.” You said.

“That’s perfectly acceptable. What if he’d come to kill you, like Riley to Bella?”

“Exactly!” You exclaimed. “Anyway, told him to fuck right off…I’m still too angry to have a conversation with him. I kinda feel bad because he came all this way but I’m not ready.”

“That’s alright. You don’t owe him anything.” Harry assured you as his hand gently smoothed up and down your hip.

“Thanks.” You hummed. “So what is it?” You seemingly asked out of nowhere.

“What’s what?” Harry asked.

“Your favorite food.” You responded and he smiled.

“You might laugh again.” He warned.

“Try me…” you hummed.

“A cheese toastie, or grilled cheese sandwich. Whichever, really.” He said, “I know that’s like super simple and-” you quickly sat up with a disbelieving smile.

“No. That’s also my actual favorite food.” You said and he grinned.

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’s literally the perfect comfort food.” You explained and he hummed.

“Definitely.” He agreed, “We weren’t really well off growing up, my mum worked a lot to keep us afloat. But one day she was home after school and she was super excited because she’d gotten a promotion that would allow her to take a day off every week and that was our little tradition on her day off. She would pick up my brother and I from school and make us that for dinner.”

“You didn’t get sick of it?”

“Well, it didn’t last long…maybe just a month or two at most. It was really lovely while it lasted though.” He explained with a smile, “That was around the time she started dating my stepdad and well, we know where that led…”

“Ummm, I actually don’t know. But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to get into that.” You assured him.

“It’s nothing crazy…he just got her a little too into drinking and gambling.”

“Oh, I see…I’m sorry, Harry.” You said softly.

“It’s alright. It doesn’t bug me like it used to. They’re adults, they know the consequences of their actions.” He explained. “There are just a lot of ups and downs. And well, my older brother has always been pretty flighty. So when our stepdad came into our lives it was really easy for him to follow in his footsteps and subscribe to his patterns. So there’ve been a lot of ups and downs.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” You responded as your hand smoothed down his chest. “Is that why you moved?” You asked and he pulled you just a bit closer.

“Largely, yeah. That guy just ruined the people in my family. Anyone that tried to get my mum to see that he was a loser was estranged, so by the time I was a teenager it was just the four of us and I had to be the responsible one. And eventually I just got sick of it and that’s how I ended up moving here for grad school.”

“Wow…I’m really proud of you, Harry.” You said softly and he smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

“Thank you.” He responded. “That’s why I really like your family. I’ve heard a lot about how your parents worked so hard ad sacrificed so much for themselves and for you two. It’s something that I saw a lot with my friends and such, but I never thought I’d have that for myself again.” He confessed and that made you so sad for him. “So when…I found out about your sister I wasn’t just sad that my marriage was over. I was sad that I would be losing all of you.”

“Well, you’re not going to lose me.” You reassured him.

“I know.” He hummed.

“Good.” You smiled.

“Sorry…” he chuckled, “I didn’t really intend to rehash my childhood traumas in your bed.” You giggled and pressed yourself up a bit and pecked his lips quickly.

“Well what did you intend to be doing in my bed, then?” You questioned teasingly with a smug grin on your face as you looked down at him.

“It was definitely going to be more X-rated.” He hummed.

“Well, I don’t mind you sharing those things with me at all. It’s part of getting to know you better and that’s equally as important.” You said, reframing his worry of putting a damper between the two of you. “I want to know everything about you.” You added and Harry smiled and slid his hand behind your neck and pulled you down again to kiss your lips gently.

“I want to know everything about you too.” He muttered before kissing you again. 

It was so easy to get lost in each other. It was just minutes later that your were both topless, his body hovering over yours as you kissed with desperation. His big hands were so warm as they glided over your bare skin and breasts. You could feel his erection pressed against you and if he just touched between your legs he’d also feel how evident your arousal was. Just as things were getting even more heated there was some pounding at your front door followed by shouts of your name from none other than, Ash. Harry drew back from you as you both heard the commotion outside.

“What the fuck?” You expressed in annoyance as Harry moved off of you and started to get off of the bed. You sat up and reached for him, “Just leave it.”

“Absolutely not. Do not let him ruin this fresh start for you.” He said and you sighed.

“I’m just worried that he’ll try to fight you. Clearly there’s some substance involved and-”

“I can hold my own. And if he takes a swing, we call the cops.” Harry said and you looked at him nervously.

“Deal?”

“Deal.” He assured. 

You followed behind Harry and as he approached the front door you could already hear some of your neighbors out in the hall cursing at Ash, telling him to shut up. You decided to just linger behind Harry but far enough that you were out of sight. You could feel your stomach turning as Harry unlocked the door to your apartment.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ash slurred.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Harry responded.

“I’m here for my fiancé, so get the fuck out of my way.” Ash grumbled as he tried to push past Harry, but he stood firm.

“Y/N told you to go earlier, so I suggest you leave, Ash.”

“Or what, tough guy?” Ash sneered. You saw how Harry’s jaw tighten from his profile and  it put you on edge thinking that he might lose his cool and you’d have to intervene.

“I’ll call the police.” 

“For what?” He scoffed.

“You’re being a nuisance, Ash. You’re disturbing everyone on this floor over nothing. She wants absolutely nothing to do with you. So get your ass back on a plane and fly back to whatever shit-hole state you came from.” Harry advised.

“I can’t just let her go.” He slurred, you could hear the pain in his voice and it made you want to step out and see him, but the fact of the matter was that he did let you go.

“That’s exactly what you did to her. You let her go for no good fucking reason and now she wants nothing more from you. So please, have some sense and call a cab or an uber and go home, Ash. It’s over.” Harry stated firmly. He wasn’t being a dick to him though, he sounded genuinely sad for Ash.

“But-”

“But nothing. Please go and never come back or there will be consequences. Do you hear me?” Harry asked calmly.

“Fuck you, Styles. Fuck you.” Ash growled before giving him a hard shove, but Harry hardly moved an inch. Before Ash could even realize it, Harry had him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him high enough that he was struggling to plant his feet firmly on the ground. 

“Get the fuck out of here before I snap you like a fucking twig.” Harry seethed and Ash’s courage suddenly faded, “If I ever hear that you showed up here again I will fuck. You. Up. That’s promise.” Harry punctuated before letting Ash go and moments later you heard Ash’s unsteady steps fading away down the hall. When Harry turned back to you after locking up you gave him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He said as he reached for your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah. I think so.” 

“Think so?” He inquired.

“Yeah…it’s just that…I actually don’t know how to feel. Like I’m glad he’s gone but it’s sad because it feels like the last time I’m ever going to see him.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Harry asked you.

“Yeah, but not love. Just…some care, concern…a little loathing.” You admitted and his lips quirked up in a small smile.

“A little?” He asked as he cupped your face in his hands and you smiled.

“Yeah. Hate’s not good for you.” You hummed and he went silent for a few seconds as he looked over your face.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. Your sister’s really upset with me over the almost-kiss she saw.” He explained.

“I figured.” You responded with a slight shrug.

“I’m not going to leave you hanging like that again.” He insisted to you.

“It’s alright though if you do. I get it…” you responded. You saw the way his morale deflated just a bit upon hearing your response.

“I don’t like that you don’t believe me.” He countered with a slight frown and you sighed and moved out of his hold and made your way back towards your bedroom. You just needed a second to really gather your thoughts over what you were trying to say to him without making him feel like shit. He followed close after you, awaiting a reaction or a response. You sat on the bed and he crouched down before you, looking at you expectantly.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you when you say that, Harry.” You started, “I just…understand that the likelihood of that happening is…easier said than done.” You explained and he hated that response even more. 

“I will try.” He insisted and you smiled sadly.

“Okay.” You nodded, though you had so many more thoughts about this in your head. You just made a mental note to not get your hopes up with this. The situation with him and your sister was messy and had the potential to get very complicated. Especially knowing your sister and how she wanted to maintain her own image as clean as possible. She would do whatever she could to not come out looking like the one who fucked everything up. A part of you wanted to believe that she wouldn’t throw you and Harry under the bus, but realistically, you weren’t too sure of how far she’d be willing to go to protect herself. 

“Y/N…” Harry beckoned, his voice was soft and his hand landed on your knee and gave you a gentle squeeze. “I care about you. A lot. And I don’t want to cause more hurt or turmoil or-”

“I know, Harry.” You assured him as your eyes finally met his own. “But I’m also not going to get my hopes up about it.” You said to him, “I can’t let myself be in a position where I lose again. I don’t know if I can deal with it.” You said sincerely and his frown deepened. “I care about you too and like you told me before, it’ll hurt way more coming from you.”

“I get that.” He ceded and you nodded. 

“Should we just…get to bed?” You asked him and he nodded wordlessly.

It felt awkward for a little bit, the silence was absolutely deafening. The only reason you knew he was in bed beside you was his body heat radiating onto your arm from the minuscule distance between the two of you. You hated the awkwardness so much but at some point you would have to accept the reality of the situation you were both in. There was nothing more that could be done but to wait.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I’m upset at you. I’m not.” You said as you broke the silence. “I’m just…trying to protect myself.” You explained and he turned towards you.

“I know, love. I’m just disappointed that I could be a source of more hurt for you. I don’t want that for you.” He explained as he reached for you once more. You let him drape his hand over your hip and you decided to turn onto your side to face him as well. This minimized the gap between you even further and you just nuzzled up against his chest. 

“I trust you but it’s more the nature of the situation that can make things a bit messy and scary for me.” You explained.

“You’re right about that…” he agreed. “I’m scared too.” He admitted after a moment of silence as he just stared at the wall while you got comfortable against his chest.

A FEW DAYS LATER

Harry’s POV:

The weekend with you had been extremely wholesome and necessary for Harry. He’d gotten a bit worried after Ash showed up and your conversation got a bit depressing but thankfully, things were able to turn around and you enjoyed the next two days together. Despite the very positive note his visit had ended with, he was still nervously awaiting Jules’ return. It was Monday afternoon and he was getting home from his lecture when he saw her car in the open garage as he came up the street. When she didn’t show up the night before he wondered if she’d ever even come back to stay with him. 

A part of him felt relieved as he had those thoughts the night before because it meant that she had intent of standing firm in her choice for Joe and she would stop dragging him along and asking him to pretend. But right now as he imagined her hanging out as if nothing had happened, blissfully unaware of when was the last time he’d see her like that and he’d return to an empty house, her side of everything bare…it made him feel so sad and scared. 

This was the home they’d made for themselves, the place they picked because when they had kids they’d have a big yard to play in and be close to the beach. There were so many hopes and dreams tied to this place but the uncertainty of her feelings and their marriage right now made it hard to feel happy in it and he hated that. While his feelings for Jules had mostly gone away, he knew that if she just abandoned him one day without a warning it had the potential to really do a number on him. He sat in his car with these thoughts for a few minutes before deciding to just get inside and deal with whatever the evening had in store for them.

When Harry opened the door to get inside he saw her suitcase near the door and he felt that pit in his stomach sinking deeper and deeper.

“Jules?!” He called out as he sped by the kitchen and set down his tote and keys on the counter, “Juliana?!” He called out one more time and there was no response. He blazed up the staircase and into their bedroom only to find it empty as well, but as he took a moment to think he heard the shower running from the adjoined bathroom. It was an ensuite, so he walked over and pressed his ear to the door to hear if she was alone. He couldn’t tell through the soft music he barely heard playing over the pelts of the water hitting the tiles loudly. He let his panic ride out as he just sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her. Thankfully, it was just another few minutes before she was stepping out of the bathroom and he stood from the bed.

“Fuck, Harry!” She gasped, clutching her towel tightly in her fist as her body slightly jolted from the surprise of his presence. “What are you doing here? I thought you had class late!” She slightly scolded him, more from the shock of finding him there than actually being angry at him.

“Sorry. That was last semester. I don’t teach late on Mondays this time around.” He explained and she nodded and there was a tense silence between them for a few seconds. “I was worried when you didn’t come home last night.” He said and she scoffed.

“Sure…after you spent the weekend in bed with my sister?” She muttered as she walked past him and to her set of drawers to grab some clothes. He was relieved to find them fully stocked. 

“I’m not having sex with her.” He said and she slightly paused upon hearing that. “We could have but we didn’t. We’re still married, you know?” Harry said and she swallowed thickly before continuing to search for the shirt she had in mind. 

“So what? You just hang out and talk?” She asked cooly and he hummed.

“Basically. W-we have kissed and a few other things but not sex.” he shared and she finally made eye contact and she could see that Harry was being sincere. “You left the garage open and I uhhh, I saw your bag by the garage door and thought that maybe you were…packing up t-to leave for good.” He shared and her gaze softened a bit before reaching in for what she wanted.

“Sorry, I must’ve forgotten to close it.” Harry nodded. 

“When you are ready to leave for good, please tell me.” He said softly and she nodded.

“I will.”

“Promise?” He asked as he came closer and she nodded.

“Promise.” She reassured and he gave one final nod before turning to leave her to get dressed. 

He was just about to start on making some dinner when she finally came down into the kitchen. 

“I put an AirTag in your car.” Julie confessed and Harry immediately stopped what he was doing.

“Why would you do that?” He chuckled dryly.

“To confirm that you were going to see Y/N.”

“You could’ve asked…” he said simply.

“I guess I figured you’d lie about it.” 

“Why would I do that?” He asked and she shrugged.

“Because of me.”

“Because of you? What about you?” He pressed and she sighed.

“You know what I’m trying to say!” She groaned and his brows raised in feigned realization.

“Oh! Because of your affair?” He questioned and now she was upset. Her features turned down and she groaned.

“Harry, please-”

“Why can’t you just say it?” He questioned, “Just admit it for once that you’ve done a bad thing!” He raised his voice, “The more you live in denial the more you drag me along. It’s not fair and you know it.” He stated firmly and the tears started running down her face.

“Harry-”

“No more excuses, Jules! I will tell you straight up that I do like Y/N! I want to get to know her better and I don’t give a fuck if you approve or not because you have no right to be angry with me over that. Not when you don’t love me anymore and have a whole other relationship behind my back!” He reminded her.

“Jesus, if this even goes anywhere! Y/N is a flake! How are you even going to break that to my parents? Huh?!” She questioned despite her tears.

“Ideally, you would’ve come clean about your affair and our divorce by then.” He said and she huffed out a dry laugh.

“Yeah, right…”

“Julie, you have to tell them! If you don’t, I will.”

“Like hell you will!”

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” He shouted as he slammed the knife down onto the cutting board and everything fell silent. “I don’t deserve this! Why do you hate me so fucking much?! What did I do?” He asked as his own tears started to fall.

“I don’t hate you! You haven’t done anything wro-”

“You’re hurting me, Juliana! Why don’t you care that every time you delay being honest, that you dodge the attorney’s call, that you leave with that fuck face, all for your benefit, I will add… you are hurting me! You’re so fucking selfish to believe that I should continue to prop up your image of being the perfect daughter! Fucking newsflash, no one is perfect! Especially not you. So stop playing these games with me! And stop pretending that you have beef with me seeing Y/N! You clearly don’t give a fuck about me or this marriage. So just stop it with all of this!” Harry finally blew up and instead of saying anything she just hurried back up the stairs. “Fucking unbelievable…” he grumbled in irritation.

Harry ended up eating alone, which he did expect after blowing up on Jules. He wanted to go apologize but he kept telling himself not to. He had nothing to apologize for, after all, she hadn’t apologized to him for any of her behavior at all. All she had ever apologized for was telling that fuck face, Joe, to come down to Palm Springs so that they could see each other for the holidays. Other than that it was just excuses and excuses. And he gave himself a time line. It was going to be a full year of her relationship with Joe in February and if she didn’t tell everyone the truth, he would.

NEXT PART...

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[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Twelve

I managed to get through another chapter of this fic hehe. This is just a cute lil chapter because we all need the fluff in our lives, especially myself. <3

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Y/n has her realization about what's happening now, and has a talk with Jongho about his actions. wc: 2.8k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  warnings: playflighting, yelling, referencing last chapter's events without much detail, jokes about being hurt, mentions of discrimation and hate against omegas, self-doubt, crying, I think that's it? masterlist

Wooyoung’s laugh broke the silence that followed y/n’s realization. He couldn’t believe that it took y/n this long to realize what they had said back in the conference room. His laughter provoked the others into joining, to which they got yelled at by the subject of their laughter.

“HEY! Don’t laugh at me, there’s been a lot going on, okay? You try being in my shoes today and having this all happen to you and see how you react, huh?” She argued, only to make them laugh even further.

You- You really didn’t realize until now?” Wooyoung questioned her, his words being interrupted by his laughter.

“Obviously not, idiot.” She fired back at the idol, who jokingly reached over to try and grab her.

Seonghwa gripped the back of Wooyoung’s top, stopping the younger idol from reaching her. “No fighting. We just left a fight, we’re not starting another one.”

The restrained idol pouted and whined at Seonghwa. “It’s not like it’s a real fight, I was just gonna play around a bit.”

“And I think we’ve had enough excitement for the day, Youngie.” Seonghwa reasoned, and the other man continued to pout, and instead turned to tackle the pack omega, starting a little omega fight while they others watched.

Eventually the other younger members joined in, while Yunho and Hongjoong had moved a bit farther away to discuss something, leaving Jongho and y/n the only two left to their own devices. Y/n decided that this was a great time to get to know the fellow ‘00 liner better. They really hadn’t talked much since she arrived here, as she had been pulled this way and that by the other members. She scooted a bit closer to the maknae, leaving a bit of distance still, so that he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

Jongho turned to look at her, “Hi,” he greeted her, “I hope this day hasn’t been too much on you.”

“It could have been worse, y’know. I could have gotten hurt, but I didn’t,” y/n tried to joke, but it fell flat when Jongho didn’t find her words funny.

“You found out that the one person you trusted in that group, was out to hurt you. I think that counts as getting hurt.” Jongho stated, looking decidedly unamused at her attempts to joke. “You know it’s okay to feel hurt about it, and to mourn the loss of a friendship, right?”

“I know. I’m still processing it now, and I’ll come to terms with it.” The omega explained, looking down at her lap.

“Good. Otherwise, it was a bit of a waste to tackle him.” Jongho commented.

That made her think for a minute. Why exactly did Jongho decide to tackle Aaron? All he would have had to do was get the attention of the others, not tackle the man. She fell silent for a moment, and the silence worried the singer next to her.

“Why did you tackle him?” She asked him, breaking the silence.

“What?” Jongho said, not expecting the question.

“Why did you tackle Aaron? How did you even hear what he said over the yelling? We’ve barely interacted, why would you potentially get yourself hurt, over someone like him?” She queried, curious as to how he would answer.

Jongho didn’t think, answering right away. “He was being an absolute asshole, and I had to protect you from that, from him. I’ve seen how other subgenders’ treat omegas, and I’ve seen firsthand the effects of it. Seonghwa and Wooyoung-hyung have dealt with more than their fair share of discrimination and hate, simply for being omegas. I may not know you that well yet, but it seems that the rest of my pack is set on you, and so I think it’s time we get to know each other better. It may be an interesting way to start off a friendship, but I wouldn’t change my actions. His words and actions were despicable. And they’re not acceptable in today’s society, let alone in Ateez.”

Y/n’s eyes started to water as she listened to the maknae’s words, not expecting this answer. She didn’t realize that while getting lost in the idol’s words that her scent was getting stronger, the scent of fresh flowers fading into something much more subtle. One that could almost be described as wilting flowers, if they had a scent.

“What do you all see in me? I’m just me. I’m someone that none of you wanted in your group, and I’ve barely interacted with most of you besides Wooyoung and maybe Seonghwa and Hongjoong.” She asked him, unknowingly garnering the attention of the others, having heard their names.

“I see someone who doesn’t give up when they struggle. Someone who enjoys dancing and performing, just like we do.” Yunho chimed in, making y/n realize she had caught the attention of the others.

“Yunho’s right. You’re talented y/n. I may not have heard you sing yet, but on performance alone, you strive to get better and perform to the best of your ability. Sure, you need to work on stamina and a few other things, but Yunho and I have seen how determined you are. Y’know, Yunho commented that he sees me in you, in how you look after finishing a run through.” San further cemented his fellow dancer’s words.

She looked up at the two of them, who both smiled kindly back down at her, which made her tear up further. To hear those words from idols she’s admired and watched for so long, it made her efforts feel worth it. She felt like she could die happy in that moment, and she was so grateful to be here and have these experiences with the men surrounding her.

“You have such a kind heart, y/n. Your personality is what I see in you. Sure, talent and the ability to be an idol is important, but it’s also important to be sure of who you are, and to be kind. Fans can sense when we’re not being truthful, and I know that you have been nothing but honest around us and the others. So I think you’d fit in well as a member of Ateez.” Seonghwa stated, smiling softly down at her, before he moved to sit in front of her.

“Everyone is right, you know,” Hongjoong said, moving to sit behind Seonghwa, as he looked at her, “You’re an amazing person, and you’re a great singer. I trust our dancers to know where you’re at dancing skill wise, and based on what I just heard, that’s basically glowing praise from those two. You have been nothing but graceful and kind, and I find myself drawn to you, and I know Seonghwa and Wooyoung would be very unhappy if I let you go. So, will you trust our judgement and become the ninth member of Ateez?”

Y/n looked up at him, so many emotions clearly showing on her face. A tear trailed down her face as she processed all of their answers, and she could see her vision blur as tears welled up in her eyes. San came to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around the omega’s shoulders but loose enough if she wanted to pull away if it was too much for her. The comfort was welcomed as the younger omega leaned into the beta’s side, looking around at the seven members who had moved to sit in front and to the side of her, gentle smiles from each of them directed at her.

“You all really want me to be a member of Ateez?” She asked, her voice soft with an undertone of disbelief.

“Of course.” Seonghwa reassured her.

Y/n looked at Hongjoong, and nodded, “Then yes, I’ll trust your judgement and become your ninth member.” She said simply.

The room burst into a cacophony of noise at her words, and San pulls her closer in a side hug before Wooyoung swoops in on her other side, pushing Jongho away so he could sit right next to her. “Baby omega~,” Wooyoung crooned, “You’re really gonna be one of us!” He shouted, almost directly into her ear as she cringed away from him and into San, who scolded his fellow ‘99 liner for how loud he was being.

Someone reached out and grabbed her hands, and when she looked to see who it was, she found two people instead. Mingi and Yunho had both grabbed one of her hands, and she found herself smiling at them, and lightly squeezing their hands in silent thanks for everything they had done. Yunho had been a great help while perfecting their choreography, and while in the moment she had protested it, she was very thankful for Mingi’s help the previous day.

“Thank you both, so much.” She said, her voice so soft that the two had to strain their ears to hear her.

“You never need to thank us. We’ll always be by your side, and if you get better, then Ateez gets better, hmm?” Mingi told her, chuckling at the end, as Yunho nodded in agreement to his best friend and packmate’s words.

Y/n pulled out of Woosan’s hold to launch herself at the taller men, who caught her and hugged her as she struggled to hug them both at the same time. As the three hugged, she realized that holy fuck she would be spending however long Ateez existed with these men, and how that didn’t feel real, but she knew it had to be because she could feel the two bodies surrounding her. She felt so happy and the others smiled as her scent changed to reflect her feelings as Yeosang moved in to ruffle her hair as she let out a whine at the alpha messing up her hair. 

“Don’t do that!” She whined as she pulled a hand away from hugging the duo in front of her to rearrange her hair back to how it was before.

She heard her name called and she looked to find that it was Jongho who had called out to her. When he saw that she was looking at him, he nodded his head and smiled, before pointing to something to the other side of her. She smiled back at him before looking to find Seonghwa and Hongjoong watching all of them with big smiles on their faces and looks of fondness for the six men surrounding her. She moved out of Yunho and Mingi’s hold and got up, heading over to the two eldest and leaders of the Ateez pack.

“Why are you two over here by yourselves?” She asked them.

“Does there have to be a reason?” Seonghwa asked her in return.

“Of course there does.” She fired back.

“Can’t we just observe our members having fun and enjoying themselves?” Hongjoong interrupted.

“No, because you two need to join in too.” She said, getting a bit fired up at the two not joining in on the happy moment.

“Someone is a bit insistent, aren’t you?” Seonghwa said, chuckling.

Y/n gave up on trying to convince them to join the other six, grabbing the pair’s hands and tugging the two behind her as they let themselves be pulled along, not minding in the least. She made the two sit down before she would sit down, eventually being pulled down herself to sit in between the two. 

“So now we can have trios!” Wooyoung broke the silence, making the others laugh.

“Yes Wooyoung-ah, we can have trios. Not that we wouldn’t have had them already, in the upcoming album.” Hongjoong pointed out to the younger man, who pouted at being reminded of that fact.

“Trios?” The newest member questioned, looking at the captain.

“Wooyoung, San and Yeosang are doing a trio for their unit song in the upcoming album, which we need to get you on, but that’s a discussion for tomorrow. Today we’ll just celebrate you becoming our newest member.” Hongjoong explained.

“Yes! We’re celebrating you today! Our newest member and my baby omega!” Wooyoung shouted, getting slapped on both shoulders by San and Jongho, who had gotten the lion’s share of his shouting. This made the omega pout, and then was promptly tackled by San. The others laughed at their shenanigans, and it made y/n feel right at home here with them as she laughed along with them.

“Are you ready to deal with this craziness every day?” She heard, looking to find that Hongjoong was the source of the question. Before she could answer, Seonghwa moved away from the duo to police the roughhousing that had started.

“Probably not, but I don’t think I have a choice now, do I?” She replied, to which he shook his head.

“No, you don’t,” He said, pausing for a moment before speaking again, “Thank you for giving me a second chance after what I did that first day.”

“Of course, Hongjoong-oppa. You meant your apology, so I had no reason not to give you another chance. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now. And I should be thanking you for giving me a chance, for taking me in as part of your group.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. Your actions last night helped cement that you fit in with us, in a way that makes me think that you were meant for Ateez.” Hongjoong said, looking down at her with more emotions in his eyes than y/n could discern. She could see that adoration that he usually reserved for his members, and it was hard for her to reconcile the idea that he’d look at her this way too, because she was one of his members now. But she knew she’d come to terms with all of this, though it might take a while.

Hongjoong saw the wonder in her eyes and disbelief, which he understood, and he wouldn’t fault her for feeling that way, when he’s felt the same way before. He reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulders, like San had done not long before, as he felt her do the same, albeit her arm was around his waist instead. Checking to see that no one was looking, he leaned his head on hers, and out of instinct with his two omegas, kissed the top of her head without thinking about it, leaving y/n to be surprised and feel her cheeks heating up at his actions.

“You two are getting cozy together again,” Seonghwa commented, his voice soft, as he sat back down next to the two.

Hongjoong pulled away from her, glaring halfheartedly at his pack omega. The omega only chuckled in response, not deeming there to be a need to respond verbally. The arm that was around her shoulders reached over to lightly shove the omega sitting next to her, making her giggle.

“So, sweetheart, what do you want to do today? It’s your decision.” Seonghwa asked, turning himself to look at her.

She hummed, not exactly sure what she wanted to do, plus the fact that she hadn’t exactly gotten a chance to go out and explore Seoul, so she didn’t know what there was to do, besides the obvious things.

“I don’t know?” She replied to the older man, “I haven’t gotten a chance to explore Seoul, as I think you might be aware of? So I don’t really know what there is to do around here?” She answered, her voice uncertain.

“We can always pick a few of our favorite things to show you? Would that be something you’d be interested in doing?” Yunho butted into the conversation, making the three look over to find that he had abandoned the other’s play fighting.

“That would be good. It makes it a little easier on me, than trying to figure out what there is to do, and I can get to know each of you a bit better that way too.” She said, nodding and smiling at the third-eldest.

“Then we’ll do that.” Hongjoong decided as he pulled away from y/n, who let out an almost inaudible whine in response to the alpha leaving her side, before being embarrassed at her reaction.

While Hongjoong went to corral the others, Seonghwa and Yunho discussed their favorite places and activities with y/n, providing her some options on what to do today. It was a little overwhelming, but she knew that they wouldn’t push her into doing too many things.

Once everyone was corralled over to where y/n and the others were sitting, they immediately launched into a discussion. Some were more enthusiastic than others, but in the end, they had created a list that featured almost one place or activity from every member. They had decided to start with whatever was farthest from KQ and work their way back to the company. This was also all done without the permission of their managers or the company, but they could care less about that.

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[redrose10]

Hey, i’m fairly new to this so idk if I‘m doing this correctly but can I make a request for a story? Yoongi is quite shy with affection so how about an angst/fluff oneshot where the reader is very clingy and affectionate but he doesn’t play into it, because he’s shy and shows his love for them in a different way (acts of service, etc.) They’re together and reader feels hurt/grows distant, thinking they’re making him uncomfortable, but it has a fluffy ending. You can do what you want from this, but I just had that in mind for quite some time:)

Thanks for the request. I hope you like it!

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi’s cheeks have magical healing powers, but you feel too guilty to use them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks

*******************************************************

“Yeah I know they’re driving me crazy any more. They’re always touching me and grabbing me and pulling me in different directions. I think they squeezed my cheeks like twelve times in a span of ten minutes. I know….yeah I know…this was a mistake. I just wish they would back off a little you know. Sometimes I regret ever getting involved with them.”

That conversation you had accidentally overheard your boyfriend having with his brother on the phone haunted you for the last month. Overthinking every little movement became the new normal for you.

Yoongi would come home from work. Normally you would run and jump into his arms peppering kisses all over his cheeks. But as you replayed those moments in your head you realized he rarely ever kissed you back, you would hardly even call it a hug. It was more of a way to hold you there just so you didn’t end up dropping to the floor. So now when he came home you would simply greet him with a smile, maybe a light shoulder squeeze if he seemed in a particularly good mood.

While cooking dinner you always had your arms wrapped around his waist. Sometimes you would talk about your day. Most times you would just sway along to a melody he hummed. Now you were suddenly aware of how he’d flinch every time you snaked your arms around him. He’d stand tense until finally giving in and relaxing under your touch. Now he was standing at the stove tending to a steak so you focused on keeping up with the dishes and setting the table instead of holding him close.

Gone were the days of holding hands. There were no more goodbye kisses. No good morning kisses followed by jokes about your horrible morning breath. No massages, no cuddles, no running your fingers through his hair.

But every morning your coffee was made and your lunch was packed. At night when you got out of the shower your towel had been in the dryer and was neatly folded on the counter and still warm while your pajamas were laid out on the bed. Every Sunday there was a fresh bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table. One day you forgot your umbrella at home and of course it started pouring. The office secretary placed it on your desk saying Yoongi dropped it off in a rush so he couldn’t stay to talk, but he still got it there. When you texted Yoongi asking if there were any painkillers in the cabinet for your headache so you knew if you needed to stop on your way home he said there was a bottle. When you got home there was a cup of tea, the painkillers, and your favorite dinner waiting on the kitchen counter, a receipt for the medicine just purchased today was in the trash. But there was still something that didn’t feel quite right between the two of you.

The worst of it was always at night. For the last three years you had been together you had grown accustomed to falling asleep safe and warm and comfy in his arms. It all started a year into your relationship when one night you had a particularly bad panic attack. The first one he had witnessed. Softly he pulled you close against him whispering comforting words while stroking the top of your head. It was the fastest you had ever been able to recover from an attack. Over time the panic attacks slowly subsided. So that became your favorite way to fall asleep. You never really asked him. You just always managed to squeeze your way into his arms. Of course he never fought it. He wasn’t that type of person. Three weeks ago he mentioned getting the best sleep he had in a long time. That was the first night you had forced yourself not to crawl into his arms. You felt guilty for causing him so many restless nights of sleep before that.

Then tonight as you laid in bed facing the opposite way from him you couldn’t help but start to feel terrible about everything. You had been selfish. You knew from the start that Yoongi was not super affectionate in a physical sense. He didn’t mind a kiss here or there or some hand holding to help you get through a crowd, but you were definitely more into physical affection than he was. The more you thought about it you started to feel awful because you had been forcing it on him all these years. Thinking that since you were in a long term relationship that it was okay even if it wasn’t like him.

But it wasn’t okay and judging by the phone call with his brother he was getting tired of it..tired of you.

So you need to apologize…

But what if it’s too late…

What if he’s completely done with you…

He’s going to break up with you…

It’s all your fault…

He hates you…

You ruined this relationship…

The room felt like it was spinning and your heart was beating too fast. You couldn’t catch your breath and you could feel tears begin to fall. You tried to shake the thoughts, but they kept coming and getting more intense. This was normally the time you would snuggle in closer to Yoongi and he would reluctantly squeeze you tight and remind you of your breathing exercises. But he was fast asleep unaware of the turmoil you were going through. Not wanting to wake him you gently scooted out of the bed and headed for the kitchen. But once there it all became too much. You started crying and shaking, hyperventilating. The simple task of warming up some milk all of a sudden seemed like moving mountains. So instead you sat at the kitchen table trying to control your breathing. You focused on the cars driving by on the street below, counting them as they went as a way of distraction.

You were on only on your seventh car when Yoongi walked into the kitchen. His hair ruffled and tshirt loosely hanging off his shoulder. He flipped the switch on the wall and squinted at the bright lights. Silently he got to work warming up a cup of milk. Once it was the perfect temperature he poured it into your favorite mug. It had a picture of a cat playing the piano. It reminded you of Yoongi. You started to cry harder again.

He sat in the chair next to you without saying anything. He took your hands and placed them on his cheeks encouraging you to squish them like your own personal stress balls. One of the very few and very rare things he did to initiate physical touch between you two. He saved it for moments like this when he knew you were really struggling. You told him once that his cheeks had magical powers or something because they always brightened your day.

But for the first time you didn’t follow through on the action. You couldn’t. You cringed thinking about all the times you had made him uncomfortable by doing things like that.

“Y/N, talk to me. Please.”, he whispered setting your hands down, but not letting go.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m so sorry for being selfish.”, you sniffled.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna need more of an explanation than that.”

Finally you looked up at him and you could see the tenderness in his eyes, but it was also mixed with fear.

“I’m sorry I’m so annoying. I’m sorry I’m always hanging on you and touching you and squishing your cheeks. I can change. Please give me a chance. Please don’t leave me.”, you cried.

“Y/N”, he sighed, “Is this…Is this why you’ve been so distant lately?”

You nodded feeling another round of tears forming.

Yoongi grabbed your hands pulling you onto his lap, something he’d never done before.

“Y/N, I’m not the most affectionate person. I never have be and even though I try I probably never will be. I prefer to show you how much I love you through words or by my actions. But I know that you are very much a touchy kind of person and that is okay. I love that about you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have spent the last three years madly in love with you. I look forward to coming home and you running into my arms. Sometimes I’m not sure who is more excited to see me, you or Holly.”, he chuckled, “I love when we cook together and my favorite time is at night when you’re wrapped in my arms and I know that that you’re warm and comfy and safe. I don’t want any of that to change. I don’t want you to change Y/N. I love you just how you are and the last month has been killing me, but I knew you’d either work it out on your own or come to me when you were ready. I didn’t want to rush you.

It was too much to hold off any more and you wrapped your arms around his neck instantly melting into him.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi. I overheard you telling your brother how you were tired of me and you regretted getting together with me and I panicked, but I should’ve talked to you first instead of getting in my head.”

“What? Conversation with my brother? I never said anything about ooohhhhh.”, he said before his eyes widen at the realization. He helped you up and started dragging you to the bedroom, “Don’t worry about that. It will all make sense soon.”

Two weeks later it was your anniversary. You had just walked into the living room expecting to find Yoongi in the kitchen or maybe his studio after not hearing from him for the last few hours, but instead he was in the middle of the room surrounded by roses while down on one knee and with a slightly shaky hand he was holding open a small black velvet box. “Y/N, I love you more than I ever thought possible. I didn’t know love like this could even really exist. I want this forever and ever and ever. I want all the kisses and hugs and affection from you. Will you marry me?”, he asked. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”, you exclaimed bouncing up and down before pulling him up off of the floor and into a kiss. He slipped the ring on your finger watching you admire the sparkle.

“Do you like it?”, he asked and you nodded, “Of course! It’s gorgeous.”

“Good because uh this was what I was talking to my brother about that day.” You looked up at him confused. He continued, “A few months ago I asked my mom for help picking out a ring. She got really excited and wanted to make sure you got the perfect one you deserved so she took me to every single jewelry store she could find and was constantly grabbing me and pulling me to look at different rings. Then she got my Aunt involved and then they got your mom to come along and then your Aunt was there and then they asked your best friend. Next thing I knew I had a whole group of people grabbing me and dragging me all over the stores. One saying look at this one. Then another one saying no get this one. My mom kept squishing my cheeks asking if I was planning to look like a boiled dumpling on my wedding day. It was a lot.”, he sighed, “So that day on the phone I was complaining to my brother about it. He gave me the number to his jeweler and I just bought the ring that way. I couldn’t go to one more store with them. I know they meant well, but I was going to loose it if my cheeks got squished one more time in the middle of a mall somewhere.”

The relief you felt was immense.

“Yeah, but your dumpling cheeks are just so cute though.”, you giggled already happily squishing them together. He feigned annoyance, but when you tried to pull away he quickly grabbed your hands placing them back on his cheeks so you could continue.

“This is the life you’ve chosen.”, you laughed pointing at the ring on your finger.

His smile grew, “Yep, these cheeks are yours forever and ever babe.”

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter seventeen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | canon typical death, violence, mentions of self harm, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow is now a peacekeeper.

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i wrote this at four am, please forgive me if it's not good, give me your feedback!! And uhm.. i am gonna pull an all nighter, coz if i sleep now i won't be able to wake up in time tmr, wish me luck!!

Beta read by 🩶 @nowitsmissing 🩶

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Coriolanus was on the train. He had nothing but mere minutes to pack his belongings and say goodbye to his life in the Capitol. Tigris was in tears. And he knew the hug he gave grandma’am would be the last he ever received from her. Peacekeepers have to serve for twenty years after all.

He was on his way to district twelve. Not once had you come to visit him. He would lie to himself if he said he thought you would be at the train station. He expected an explanation. He was ready to accept lies. But no one was waiting for him. He was all alone.

Snow has lost his previous blonde curls as all officers had to have a buzzcut. He also had been sprayed with extremely cold water before he was given the blue uniform of peacekeepers. Coriolanus had gone over a small handbook and he realized hierarchy is everything. There are ways to raise rank but what's the point of it all?

What's the point?

He will never be president.

The Snow name will fall.

He will never have you.

He should just end it all.

That's when the door to his train cabin opens. The person who enters is completely unsuspected. Sejanus Plinth. His… friend.

Sejanus sits before him. Coriolanus doesn't even greet him. He's shocked. He blurts out, “Before you came, I was thinking about the merits of suicide.”

Sejanus replied with a chuckle, “Don't give them the satisfaction, Coryo.”

Coriolanus nods. He won't. He will make it out somehow.

“Why are you here?”

“I volunteered,” Sejanus said proudly, “as a medic. I will make a real difference like you said I can.”

Coriolanus wants to roll his eyes but doesn't. He likes the company he has right now, it's better than nothing. He smiles, all nice and fake. “Of course, Sejanus. You'll also meet your songbird.”

Sejanus Plinth blushed, “That too.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Week.

Ma Plinth sends letters regularly to Sejanus. She also sends him various goods including pastries that Sejanus shares with him. He hates it. Coriolanus still finishes his share of the sweet as it's so rare to find in the districts.

They don't have a day off yet. Sejanus hasn't found Lucy Gray. He's worried. Coriolanus speaks false words to put the poor boy at ease. It works more often than not.

The training is hard but Coryo excels. He's noticed by several of the recruits. They're friendly. He doesn't reveal that he's from the Capitol, nor does Sejanus Plinth. The gifts from his Ma are kept a secret.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Month.

Coriolanus Snow trains more and more. He trains harder than everyone. Snow eats well. He has more muscles than he had in the academy. Coryo could beat several people in combat now. He had gained the respect of his peers.

He was angry.

That’s the only reason he trained so much. Because if he thinks too much, he won't be able to live. He checks his mail every day. He gets them weekly from Tigris. It doesn't say much except the fact they're doing well.

Coryo rarely writes her back.

He yelled at Sejanus today.

It's the first time he ever yelled at the boy. Sejanus looks like he is about to cry and Coriolanus doesn't know what to do.

Coriolanus Snow is mad at you. And you aren't here to take the burn.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month.

Coriolanus caves in. He writes. He writes and writes dozens of letters addressed to you. It's about the smallest thing. How heavy the gun was for him to carry in the beginning and how it is now. How the air is fresh in some parts of the district and horrible near the factories. How bright the sun is. How pretty the flowers are. He speaks about the culture he thought district people could never have. He speaks about the people who are… kind. Different than he thought so.

Coriolanus doesn't send them to you.

However, Sejanus Plinth does.

Sej is sure you'll reply.

You don't.

He stops writing the letters.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Second Week

He begs onto the paper. So much ink is wasted.

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please.

SAY SOMETHING BACK

He scrawls the words roughly onto the letter over and over again. Tears falling from his eyes and ruining the ink. It makes some of the words ineligible. He doesn't care. You'll get it.

You get him.

Out of all the people, why did you abandon him like this?

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Fourth Week

Snow doesn't get a reply. It doesn't matter.

Whatever healing his soulmate scar had gone through had reversed. It was the same ugly scar now. It didn't matter. Nothing does.

Sejanus says he's colder now. Angrier. He has a temper. Coriolanus doesn't care.

Sejanus Plinth forces Coryo to enjoy his day off. He drags him to The Hob, the bar in District Twelve. He sees Lucy Gray dancing and singing around. He meets with the Covey. He laughs for the first time in a while.

The same night he kisses someone. He doesn't remember who. He hates it. It felt like spiders crawling on his skin. He vomits outside of the bar. Sejanus is concerned. Coriolanus Snow quietly cries himself to sleep that night.

He doesn't touch his soulmate's scar for comfort anymore. He wishes he could cut all the skin off from his wrist where the mark was.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; First Week

When he comes back to the Capitol, he will. He will kill you. He will ruin you like you ruined him. The next time you meet Coriolanus Snow you aren't coming out alive.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; Fourth Week

Coryo can imagine his life here. With Sejanus and the Covey. Lucy Gray quickly becomes his friend (somewhat). Maude Ivory, her younger cousin, is sweet and considers Coryo like a brother figure.

It means a lot to him.

The music they play. The cabin in the woods. The cool lake is hidden in the forest. It's nice. A life worth having (he's lying to himself).

He hates the heat.

He misses the Capitol.

He misses you. Though he will never admit it.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; First Week.

Coryo finds out what the hanging tree is named after. It's a tree used for hanging the rebels. And some rebels were caught recently. Their names were called out by the captain. And they were sentenced to death.

Coriolanus had to stand up straight and keep a poker face as they were punished. A girl calls out the unfairness of it all. Pleads that they were doing nothing wrong. Snow wants to scoff. The rebels tried to escape, flee to the north, away from the safety that Panem offered. That's betrayal in Coriolanus' book.

The girl is taken away as a rebel as well.

As it should be.

Dumb district girl.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; Third Week.

A few officials have come from the Capitol to district twelve on a mission nobody knows anything about. Coryo hears rumors about it being about district thirteen and he's reminded of you. He doesn't pay much attention to it as they were just baseless rumors. District thirteen ceased to exist and his family had to face the consequences because of it.

Commander Hoff gathers every peacekeeper in the Nauen radio station. Hoff begins with a speech, “Today I call you here to let you know about the prestigious guests staying in District twelve for the time being. It is suffice to say that they expect the best from you as one of you will be assigned to be each of their bodyguard for their safety. They're from the Capitol, remember their lives matter more than yours. Do not let me down.”

Commander Hoff calls out names one by one and the peacekeeper is assigned to the person. He calls out your name. Coriolanus freezes, perhaps he heard wrong. He looks around onto the stage where the officials are and sees you for the first time in months.

Fuck. You're so beautiful.

He fists his hands. He bites the inside of his cheeks. It takes him everything not to descend into madness.

“...is assigned to Coriolanus Snow.”

You're under him now.

Good luck.

Next Part

[calmcoldevening]

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

[milliesfishes]

୨ৎ⋆˚౨ৎRibbons (Act One)౨ৎ˚⋆୨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: depression, control, mention of a past suicide attempt, angst pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader author’s note: this work contains topics that may be upsetting pertaining mental health, controlling relationships, depression, and suicide. I did my best to portray them correctly. I hope you all enjoy the series, it's very angsty :) 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓑𝓸𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓯𝔂 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

THE ELUSIVE FIRST LADY We've all seen the pictures. Coriolanus Snow was wed to the most beautiful bride Panem has ever seen in a lustrous ceremony two years ago. After the honeymoon, the young politician engaged in a slew of campaigning, and nearly exactly twelve months later, he was elected president. The First Lady has neither been seen or heard from since. In the past, it has been customary for the wives of the President to host galas and attend charity events. Mrs. Snow has done none of the above. President Snow was very open with his wife before the election, and she was alongside him at every speech and dinner. Presently, he attends what few events he does alone, his wife nowhere in sight. Due to the now-First Lady's popularity before her husband's candidacy, it is a curious occurrence indeed. So we, and all of Panem, have to ask the question- where is she?

Suffocation is very slow.

Even butterflies in bell jars flutter around for a bit before they take their last breaths. They are there to admire for what their captors know is a limited time. That was the difference between theirs and yours.

For your own peace of mind, you reasoned that Coriolanus Snow had not known what he was doing.

Breathing in the salty air of the seaside, you felt the scent and sound of everything wash over you and slip your mind into a state of relaxation. It had been months since you'd felt this free.

Hands on the smooth, grainy railing of the porch, you stood on your tiptoes, the edge pressing against your belly. The sea breeze tickled your hair around your neck, the skirts of your white dress brushing your ankles.

It had been four weeks of bliss; of waking up with cotton sheets tangled around your legs, of feeling the sun freckle your skin that was no longer pale as death. A whimsical month of sand in every crease, of collecting seashells the length of your little fingernail and spreading them over the kitchen counter to admire.

You were supposed to escape this way. To get better. But the little details of this place painted a picture of home; the very spot you were not supposed to think of. Truly, the great, roaring mass of water was more alike to what you had left behind than the thing itself.

The ocean was the same blue of his eyes, contained secrets of the same magnitude. The tide ebbed and flowed the same way he did. There was one marked difference, though. When you thought of him, resentment and sorrow bubbled in your chest to create a confusing swirl of unexplainable feeling. You did not feel this toward the sea.

Fisting the skirt of your dress, you ran a hand up the column of the house. The porch was strewn with sand, the pastel walls of the Victorian exterior worn with time but adding to the charm. This place had become your sanctuary. And you had your doubts about whether you would be allowed to return.

Padding inside, the knotted rug cleared the majority of the sand from your feet, but you knew some would manage to stick and track onto the hardwood floor. Your two round suitcases were packed, the few belongings from your month away tucked away and reminding you how little space things actually take up. Mass does not account for the memories.

Looking around at this little space that had become your home, you felt a familiar pang of dread tap your chest. You had been avoiding it- the idea that you must leave. The idea of returning to what had gotten you sent here in the first place.

A dam of memories began to crack, but you resisted, holding the splits in the structure with your fingers. I am better now. The whole point of you coming here was to recover. That single dreadful flicker of a recollection sparked, but you held it down.

Tires crunching on gravel. An involuntary shudder racked your body. It was time. Funnily enough, this felt more like a punishment than coming here had. You bent and picked up your suitcases, slipping your feet into the black flats that would deem your ensemble appropriate enough for return.

Your companions for the month had already departed, quiet goodbyes and well wishes in their wake. They knew what was waiting for you, and doubly they knew how you dreaded it.

Shutting the door behind you felt like forcing two magnets away from each other. You slowly pulled your hand away from the doorknob, thumb pressing into the embossed symbol in the center. When you looked down at your hand, you could see the imprint of it in the skin. A rose.

Using that hand to bunch your skirts again, you descended the creaky stairs and down the willowy, crunchy path of seashells and rocks to where the black-suited driver was holding the door of the car for you. He eyed you when you bent to pick a handful of beach aster before continuing your walk of doom.

Shutting the door behind you, he offered a polite tip of the hat, which you acknowledged with a smile. It wasn't his fault you were headed back into the lion's den.

The entire drive, you stared out the window, eyes chasing the sights as they whizzed by, back into the past already; those golden hours you missed already. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as the reality of it hit you.

Good-bye sandy sunsets and shining waters.

It was your final farewell as you were forced to greet empty halls and lonely luxury.

Back into the bell jar.

If you had wings, they would be wilted. The second you saw the mansion, looming over the car like a monster, you recoiled, shrinking back into your seat and wishing you could sink into the spot. Maybe if you willed it hard enough you would disappear and leave nothing but a white dress with a pocket full of seashells behind.

You shivered, folding your hands around your arms as goosebumps sprouted. Longing for the crackling fire in the hearth of your beach house, you tried to sit up straight. It wouldn't do well to have a shaky appearance.

Being in the car made you more anxious than the idea of returning. Clenching your fingers around your arms, you breathed in and out, tried to count to one hundred. The car ride to the beach house had elicited a similar reaction, your nerves getting the better of you.

The golden gates parted for the car, and that was when you saw him waiting, hands folded behind his back, standing on the pale marble steps leading up to the house. His hair was so light it was nearly the same color, the red of his coat a stark contrast. In your absence you had forgotten the season, and suddenly you regretted your choice in dress. The thin straps would do little to protect you from the cold.

As you stepped out of the car, using the hand of the driver as leverage, Coriolanus moved forward toward you. His icy blue eyes roved over your appearance; sun-warmed skin, simple dress, some beach aster stuck behind your ear and more peeking out of your pocket. The tiny shells in the same opening slightly jingled as you met him halfway.

"Darling," he greeted, his voice low. The only other people out here were the Peacekeepers used for the mansion's security and the driver of the car, who was taking your two circular suitcases from the back.

You lifted your chin, taking his offered hand and letting him help you up the steps. Repressing a shiver because the house was only a minute away, you eyed the barren trees lining the walls. There were only a few dried, stiffened leaves clinging to the spindly branches. Even the roses were trimmed now, at the stems.

Disappointment twinged at your insides. One of the only things you'd been looking forward to was escaping through the garden. Coriolanus noticed your face fall at the sight, and he squeezed your hand. "Some of them were cut and moved inside. We can have more brought in if you would like."

Nodding slightly, you gave him a soft smile, doing your best to hide from him the dread eating you from the inside out. Stepping through the lacquered white doors, the chill of the mansion made you shiver in a way unrelated to the temperature. Coriolanus secured his arm around you, rubbing your elbow. "You must be freezing in that dress. Come, let's get you something more...appropriate."

The disdain in his tone was hard to miss. But you knew he wasn't talking about your outfit. He wanted to transform you back into the woman he knew. In appearance only.

It felt like an attack. Coriolanus wanted to scrub from you any remnants of your escape, of the time you hadn't been under his shadow. Truthfully, you couldn't be too upset for it. He didn't know of the haven in your beloved ocean. All he knew was that you'd been away from him.

"Of course," you whispered, lifting your eyes to meet his. Your husband caressed your cheek briefly, an unrecognizable look flickering in his irises.

It quickly diminished though, and you were then escorted up the stairs, walking hand in hand down the hallway with him. His shiny shoes clicked on the tile, your flats barely making a sound.

Stopping at your door, Coriolanus turned to you, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort. "Will you come down for dinner?" he questioned quietly, voice barely echoing in the expanse of the hallway.

Nodding slightly, you managed a little upturn of your lips, feeling like you were performing. "Of course."

A sort of relieved expression fell over him, and he lifted your joined hands, kissing your fingers. "Wonderful. I'll let you freshen up."

Once you were behind the door of your bedroom, you leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. It was over. The first part was over. Maybe this will have been the hardest.

You stared at the ceiling for a moment before getting to your feet, watching the sunset cast shadows on the floor and expose the dust of the air. At least the same moon would appear when the night fell.

Wandering into the bathroom, you studied your reflection for a moment. You didn't look at all like the woman who'd left these walls four weeks ago. But you didn't look like who you'd been before being her either. Now you were some foreign, unfamiliar thing whose nature you had not yet uncovered.

It was like stumbling upon the Gardens of Babylon; something inside you that there had been whispers of, but nobody had known existed. And now you weren't sure if you were entirely yourself. Everything you were before was shelled inside like a nesting doll, but you hadn't the courage to uncover it.

Tearing your eyes away from the mirror, you slipped off your shoes, feeling the cool marble beneath your feet. Checkered tiles. You had picked them out so long ago.

Turning your head to the side, you saw it standing there, like a lone specter. The smooth, rounded bathtub, like a cupped hand. Reaching out, you lightly ran a finger down the side of it. It wasn't the same one. Of course it wouldn't be.

You wondered what he'd done with it. Had it destroyed, maybe? He'd blame anything but you for what happened.

Even an inanimate object that had been doing nothing but what it was created to.

Dressed in a light pink sweater tucked into a matching skirt, a belt cinching your waist, you sat primly diagonal from him, picking at the food on your plate. Long gone were the beach asters, any grains of sand that may have clung to you. A shower had erased it.

Now you were back, settled into the space you'd inhabited before. Even though your heart wasn't the same shape anymore, you fit it perfectly.

He was looking up every few seconds, as if you'd disintegrate if he didn't always have one eye on you. You didn't question it.

Determinedly casual, Coriolanus commented, "The doctors reported well of your conditions." He speared a potato with his fork, bringing it to his mouth.

Hands folded in your lap, you let your chin move up and down as a response. It had been a topic in question for you; how he was going to broach the situation. If it was up to you, it would never be spoken of again.

Your husband set his utensil down with a gentle clatter, resting his elbow on the table, palm facing the chandelier above. Recognizing what he wanted, you lifted one of your hands, setting it limply atop his. His fingers closed around yours, squeezing.

Somehow you mustered the courage to meet his eyes, that deep blue that so reminded you of your missed getaway. Coriolanus rested his other hand on yours, thumb rubbing your knuckles. He made sure you were looking right at him when he said, "I apologize, darling. For everything I did to-" he cut himself off with a swallow. "I'm sorry."

Casting your eyes to the side for a moment, you noticed for the first time the vase of roses sitting modestly close to your setting. These weren't ordered, no, they were from the garden. Perhaps cut today even, spared until the last minute before you arrived unlike their stemless companions.

Turning back to him, you took in a light breath, lifting your free hand to touch the sliver of a belt over your stomach. Tracing the little buckle for a moment, your eyes found his as a question you'd been wanting to ask for a long time slipped past your lips. "Why did you do it?"

Coriolanus' face hardened slightly, but then his thumb traveling your hand found your wedding ring and his shoulders relaxed. "It was to keep you safe."

"I wasn't allowed to leave," you retorted quietly, some newfound bravery inside you urging the words from your mind. "Months trapped in this house, allowed to see no one-"

"To keep you safe," he reiterated. If it were not for the sincerity in his eyes you would have thought him cruel for feeding you the same statement he had before your trip to the seaside. "Darling...all of this was to keep you protected."

"And look where that's gotten us." Your soft response was punctuated by you pulling your hand back, clasping it with the other on your thigh. Freshly painted a pale rose color, your nails poked at your skin when you balled your hands up, an attempt to keep control. Quietly, you added, "The media got ahold of an account of my spending. Apparently, an inside source gave it to them."

Your husband sat upright, a frown creasing his brow. "I thought you weren't supposed to look at those things while-"

"I didn't." You looked down. "Not on purpose. One of the caretakers left a magazine out and I... saw my name. I couldn't help it."

"Did it say what you were spending on?" Coriolanus leaned back again, and you could almost see the wheels in his head turning.

"No," you shook your head, fingers coming up to touch the space between your eyebrows. A headache was coming, you could feel it. "But they had an exact amount."

"Anyone working with our finances wouldn't know what happened," Coriolanus reasoned, fingers thrumming the arm of his chair. His hair looked a little mussed, you observed. Like he'd been running his hand through it. You could see the gel wearing off, his natural curls beginning to take form again. How you'd loved petting his hair before. And how he'd loved letting you. "I'll have the staff cleared out and replace them."

Clenching your jaw so you wouldn't cry, you nodded. One tear escaped, trickling down your cheek as a wave of shame crashed over you. Unable to help yourself, you put your hands over your face, whispering, "It was awful, Coryo. The number was so high. And now everyone thinks I'm spending the country's money on parties and dresses."

"Darling. Darling." There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, and then you heard him step to you, two hands pulling you to stand and fall into him. Despite your qualms, you let your arms wrap around him, face pressing into the spot over his heart, where the steady thump nudged your cheek. He buried his nose in your hair, a gentle kiss finding a home there. "We know the truth, sweetheart. That's the most important thing."

"But you're the president," you sniffled, all previous fear forgotten as you remembered how good it felt to be in his arms. Living in his shadow also meant being protected by it. "I'm making you look awful. It won't be good for the reelection."

"I don't give a damn about the reelection if you're not well," Coriolanus murmured into your hair. "This isn't your fault, it's the staff's for letting this information get out. I won't stop spending my money on doctors as long as you're unwell." He rubbed your back. "I don't care if the tabloids think it's something else."

A dry sob erupted from your lips at his words, and he tightened his arms around you. You hated yourself for finding comfort in him after what he'd done.

"Let's get you upstairs," he said quietly, and you nodded into him. He made a move to take a step but hesitated. In a careful gesture, Coriolanus leaned down, securing his arm under your knees and lifting you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder and closing your eyes. The headache that had begun to make an appearance was now pounding, and you fisted your husband's shirt as it did.

Aware of your discomfort, Coriolanus swept you upstairs, and before you knew it you were being laid on your soft bed, atop the covers as he went to the closet to find something for you to sleep in. Sitting up, you began to undo your belt, sliding it through the buckle and winding it up neatly. You removed your skirt, unzipping the side, and then your sweater by the time he returned, one of your old favorite nightdresses in hand.

He bunched it in his hands, holding the neck open. "Lift your arms."

You did, and he slid the fabric over your head, straightening it out over your body. Wrestling your arms through the openings, you murmured. "The bathtub's new."

He paused, seeming surprised that you had brought it up. The sight of you was sure to be a sorry one, with messy hair and teary eyes, sitting in a little white nightdress, the skirt of which was messily pinched and spread over your thighs. Kneeling at your feet, he looked at your legs, one hand coming to smooth the fabric over them. When it reached your knees, the hem brushing the bone, he muttered, "In no world was I going to keep the old one."

Plunging your head underwater, you felt the thoughts numb. Every second you stayed under; the noise stopped. One moment you had hope of the end, and then the next a pair of hands were breaking the surface and yanking you from your peace.

Staring up at him, you felt the fog begin to settle over you again. Blinking tiredly, you said, "You could have."

Coriolanus inhaled, resting his head on your knees. Then his arms moved, encircling your waist and now his head was buried in your stomach. You lifted your hand, hesitantly touching his hair. It was mostly soft, a little stiff in some places from the dried out, hours-old gel.

For a moment, you didn't think he would let go. But his arms loosened, and he looked up at you. The vulnerability etched in his roaring oceans of eyes nearly drew from you a gasp. He shook his head, and you could almost see the reflection of what he was thinking in the blue.

You, wet hair sticking to your chest, water dripping from your bare body and pooling beneath on the floor.

Coriolanus grasped your waist, watching your chest rise and fall with your breathing. He rubbed your side gently, something melancholy drizzling over the scene. "Did you do it...because I made you stay?"

The question made your motions through his hair stop, and he lifted his head. His eyes pierced your heart, but you were tired of withholding the truth. Your response was soft. "Week after week of being confined to this place. And you still won't even tell me why." The look on your face was answer enough for him.

Rising, Coriolanus leaned in, hand finding the crown of your head and holding you as he pressed a kiss to your hairline. He held his lips there for a long time. Broad and strong, he stood firm and steady in the tumultuous waves of your life, drawing you in like an unbendable force.

Thunder seemed to shake your being, the waters up to your neck. And yet there he was, unaffected by any storm, his arms open and willing. And suddenly you missed him, needed him like you had never needed anything before. Hands shaking, breathily, you asked, "Will you stay?"

Even after everything, after the history that defined you by being written, you were helpless without him. It was that love you'd never rescinded, that had bloomed when he slid his ring on your finger and had hardly even wilted when he imposed such a harrowing restriction upon you.

You wished you hated him.

He began to loosen his tie. It was discarded along with his shoes, shirt, jacket, and pants. Each item shed unsheathed the man beneath the president. And then you saw your Coryo again, the one you'd loved before he consumed the power bestowed on him.

Maybe you weren't the only one with multiple versions inside yourself. He was just better at uncovering them.

Had it been the president who'd given you strict orders to never step past the grounds? Who'd brushed away your pleas to leave even for a few hours, saying he'd send for more catalogs and books to keep you occupied? Who'd pried the shiny, embossed invitations from your hands when you begged to attend events with him?

You had thought it was the president who you'd walked in on in his study after you'd been pulled from the dripping throes of death, in a meeting with the doctor who'd thoroughly examined you. The president who stared at the wood of his desk, brow furrowed, backs of fingers covering his mouth as the doctor told him he would recommend for you to be sent away to recover fully. "Many of my patients have said the seaside, in particular, has improved their condition," he said in hushed tones. The president nodded.

When you whispered, "The seaside?" it was the president who noticed you, who got to his feet and was at your side in an instant.

But it was a different man whose eyes roved over your disheveled appearance; messy hair, wearing nothing but an oversized sweater that fell to your middle thighs and engulfed your hands. He slid an arm around you, bringing you to his chest and smoothing your hair. "Sweetheart, you need to be resting. Let me take you back to your room." Still in a daze from the prescribed sleeping pills, you nodded hazily and let him lead you upstairs with an arm around your shoulders.

It was that man who was getting into bed with you right now, pulling you into his arms and tucking you to his side, whispering that it was okay, that all you had to do now was sleep.

Instead of drifting off, your mind wandered near and far, body feeling heavy with all the answers you lacked. The burden of it all was nearly breaking you. And before you could regulate, the one thing on your mind was escaping your head through your mouth.

"Did you do it because you love somebody else?"

He stiffened, and then his arms tightened around you. You could feel him shake his head immediately, even though you couldn't see it. "No. Never." Coriolanus adjusted the position of his hands, splaying one over your tummy. He kissed your hair, mumbling into it. "I love you. You're my wife." His words were firm, and you felt some comfort return.

"Was it because you were ashamed of me?" You turned around, facing him. The only light was from the candle at your bedside, flickering dependently. He exhaled softly at your questioning, thumbing the side of your face. You asked in a small voice, "Did you want to hide me away?"

His head moved back and forth, declining your theory. "Darling, I have never been ashamed of you. Not once."

"But why else would you force me to stay where nobody can see me?" you asked quietly, on the verge of tears again. Over your weeks away, the medical care staff had discouraged you from wondering about such things, telling you they would only send your head into a spiral. But now, in the last honest moments of waking, you were incapable of holding back.

Coriolanus' face was tender, and he cupped a big hand over your head. You could hear the words before he said them and you dreaded their arrival. Shaking your head, your lower lip trembled as he breathed life into the phrase once again.

"To keep you safe."

Despondently, you watched him, giving no response as he gave you a final peck to your temple and tucked your head under his chin. The irony of the statement was not lost on you. He had protected you from everything except yourself.

Nobody tells you what to do once you survive. Once you are past the point of danger, there is nothing but wide, open space in front of you that only serves to collapse what you have thought you healed.

Even after your self-inflicted brush with death, the person whom you loved most still refused to give you the one answer that would bring you peace.

After blowing out the candle, it did not take Coriolanus long to slip into sleep. You laid awake for hours afterward, thoughts piling up like discarded flowers after a wedding.

You had held him as your lover; fulfilling your marriage vows before they were uttered. He was forever, adoring in every sense of the word. But now you couldn't help but feel as if he was holding you for a different reason.

He was concealing you. And if it be the will of Coriolanus Snow, undiscovered you would remain.

Though he had given himself to you, it radiated off him. The shame of being yours.

𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓐𝓬𝓽

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

daddy az?? daddy cass?? what about daddy eris 🥺🥺

Oh, I've been waiting to write for our fire boy more.

Future daddy

Let's all be honest with ourselves here. Eris is not someone who would go bouncing off the rooftops when you tell him that you're carrying his baby. That is not to say that he isn't happy. He is. But he's so unbelievably scared that it overpowers everything else. Especially if Beron is still alive and in charge of Autumn.

Hence why, I think, he's getting you out of the main quarters. Somewhere deep into the woods. In some cabin that only he knows of. Somewhere close to winter's borders so that in case you could cross it and Kallias would take care of you for the time being. Because Eris is paranoid. He only trusts himself and his childhood healer who has been in his life ever since he was born. And so I think the beauty of the first months of your pregnancy is kind of washed away by all of this. The worrying. The panic. Eris constantly being on the edge.

But then it all slowly starts to change. One morning he noticed, while you're slowly getting dressed, the tiny bumps forming there and he's never the same afterwards. Eris rolls out of bed, sinking to his knees right in front of you, warm palm carefully caressing the little growing baby there. His eyes fill up with tears as he rests his head on your chest, "I've been such bad mate, such a bad father", he crocks out. "What are you on about, Eris?", you ask him feeling concerned. "You deserve so much more. I haven't even told you how happy I am... How much... How much I love you both", he breathes out. "We both know, darling. Believe me. We love you endlessly", you mutter while brushing his tears away.

And it all just changes. From then moving forward. The only way he can sleep at night is if his hands are resting on your tummy, so big spoon Eris is in full force. He never leaves without giving you and your bump a kiss. The same goes for saying hello. He too enjoys talking to the belly. But I would say that he reads to it more than tells stories of the day. Eris's days are too full of his father's brutality and he wants to keep away from the baby. So he reads the books that he had read to Lucien himself, or found in a little market. He's so good at making different voices for the characters and you can't help but look at him with so much love, already picturing him reading the same story to your baby when they are older and can understand or at least react to their father's voice.

Call me out on it but I think Eris is exceptional at making food and he also loves doing it. So on his free days, he is more than happy to cook for you or make sweet apple tarts. He's also working on a crib himself. Carving all the little woodland trees and creatures, squirrels and deer, berries and leaves. It's something that he's extremely passionate about and let's face it you would be sobbing once he shows it to you. Something so special. Made with so much love by their father. And I think he would like to leave space around the borders so he could carve out your baby's name and keep adding names with each new family member.

Takes you on walks through the forest because moving around is important. Hand around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other on your bump. Stopping to pick flowers for you and thread them through your hair. Plus imagine how nice his fire hands would feel again all the pains and aches. And he does it without even being asked. If you two are sat down on the sofa or even in bed, he always massages your feet. Stopping to rub your shoulders and back. Loving to just sway with you while he's holding up your bump once it gets heavier.

Not to mention a pack of wolf-breed dogs that are your army. Like, forget doing anything on your own. You're peeing with at least twelve eyes looking at you. Receiving bumps to your leg or side if you haven't eaten anything in a while and they start to feel your blood sugar dropping. Heck, trust them to bring you snacks from the kitchen. And the best naps in between all the fluff furs. Eris is more than happy that his doggos are so in love and protective of you two. It's that extra comfort for him. He knows they would fight till death to protect you two.

[crazyunsexycool]

Heart's Munition

Chapter 8

Pairing: Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Maid!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: crying, fluff-ish

A/N: I realized that I've had this written for weeks and hadn't shared it. We see some of the aftermath from the previous chapter...

Series Masterlist

Sharon’s heels hit the tarmac at a steady rhythm. As she walked toward her waiting private jet she took her phone out of her purse and called to give a much awaited update. The phone rings three times before someone answers. 

“Hey, darling cousin.” Sharon smiles the closer she gets to the steps of the plane. “Everything seemed to have gone well. From the information we got it seems like dear old Steve has a thing for his maids so I made sure to send a few guys to the place of his newest hire. She was a cute little thing, couldn’t even put up a fight. Your contact also made sure to scare her into spying on Steve for us.” 

“What about the other one?” 

“The other one?” 

“Yes, there are two maids.” There’s some shuffling of papers on the other end while Sharon stops and waits for an answer. “The other one’s name is Y/N. Apparently Steve has been more than attentive with her.” 

Sharon rolls her eyes and sighs. “Peggy when you gave me this job you only mentioned Regina. I don’t have any intel on this Y/N person.” 

There’s absolute silence on the other end of the line. It annoys Sharon to no end to have to run these little errands for her cousin. As if she wasn’t an important member of the Carter family.

“We’ll figure something out for her later then. What else do you have?” 

“The only one I haven’t heard from is Rollins. He was supposed to go into Rogers’ home, find anything he could on where they were keeping Beck and whatever else he could on your ex.” 

“Sharon, you’re the only one who cares about Beck. He got careless, whatever happened he brought it on himself.” Peggy responded rather bored. “The only thing I wanted was information on Steve’s businesses.”

“Hmm. Well I’ll see you in a few hours and we can discuss next steps. Bye cousin.” Sharon responds and hangs up not waiting for a reply. 

She’s greeted at the bottom of the stairs by the pilot and he ushers her up the steps. Just at the entrance the one flight attendant is waiting to take her bag. She smiles at Sharon although it seems strained, Sharon doesn’t seem to care. Handing over her bag Sharon walks in to take a seat only to be surprised to find that she isn’t alone. 

“Who the hell are you?” She asked angrily at the person hiding behind a newspaper. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know you were behind the break in at my place?”

“Steve-“ Sharon whispered out his name. She looked back at the exit only to find that it had been blocked by Bucky. 

“A little convenient that you showed up at my club just as someone was breaking in, wouldn’t you say?” 

“I only came by to offer you a business deal, a good one at that.” Sharon shifts side to side nervously. “One that you turned down. I don’t know why you’re here now though, I still have a few hours before the twelve hours are up.”

“I’ve changed my mind on the twelve hours. Why don’t you stay in New York for a while.” 

“I would but I have business to take care of elsewhere.” 

Steve stands up and closes in on Sharon. She has to tip her head back slightly to look at him. He smirks as he sees the fear in her eyes. 

“You aren’t going anywhere any time soon Sharon. Let’s go.” 

“Steve, you don’t hurt women.” Sharon says. “It’s your one rule. You won’t hurt me.” 

“You’re right, I won’t. But she will.” Steve juts his chin up so that Sharon has to look behind her. When she does she sees Nat standing besides Bucky and her blood runs cold. “You’re going to tell me everything I want to know.” Steve whispers in her ear before pushing her toward Nat. 

You had offered to go to Regina’s apartment to collect her things. Clint was with you since Steve needed Nat. You personally packed her clothes and were looking around to make sure you didn’t miss anything from the list Regina had given you. One thing she had asked for was a picture in a frame on her night stand but it was missing. The other thing you grabbed was a photo album from her closet. 

“You got everything?” Clint asked from the door.

“Yeah,” you said but you kept looking around. “It’s odd.” 

“What is?” 

“Regina mentioned she had a daughter but there is nothing in this apartment that would suggest a kid lived here.” 

“You think she’s lying?” Clint perks up. 

“I don’t know, maybe?” You look back at Clint with concern. 

“I can look into it if you want.” 

“I’ll let you know, maybe I’ll just ask her instead.”

“She could lie. Why don’t you let me do a little digging and I’ll tell you what I find. Then you can ask her, see if everything matches up with what she tells you.” Clint offers and while you head out of the apartment you think it over.

“Yeah, that makes sense. When can you let me know?” 

“I’ll tell you everything I find tomorrow morning.” Clint takes the bag from your hand and leads you out of the old building. 

“Ok that works.”

“Look at you becoming a little boss of the family.” He chuckles at your eye roll. 

“After last night I just want to make sure no one will try to hurt us again.” You defend yourself. “Regina is still new, what if the video and all that are a set up?”

“I thought you liked her?” Clint opens the car door for you. 

“I do but I won’t put my son’s well being above anyone else.” 

“That’s the right call. Boss.”  Clint chuckles.

You checked in on Elijah first. The events of the previous night had worn him down and he was taking a nap. Next you went down to the server’s quarters where Regina decided to take a room instead of a regular room on the second floor. She was wrapped up in a blanket. Tears streaked on her cheeks, her eyes red and puffy from all of the crying. The injuries had been bad and you knew she was in pain. You were sure that she wasn’t involved in the attack, instead she was just a victim.

“Hey.” You called softly. “May I come in?” 

She looked up at you, eyes slightly glazed over but she nodded. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Regina just shrugs. “Fine I guess.” 

“I got everything on your list. Well almost everything. I couldn’t find the picture you asked me for.”

“The one on my nightstand?” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” You say as you sit at the edge of the bed.

“This is bad.” Regina stands and starts pacing. “If it’s not there then it means those guys know what my daughter looks like. What if they try to hurt her?” She asks, panicked. 

“Hey, I’ll talk to Steve ok? In the meantime can we talk to whoever she’s staying with?” 

Regina sits next to you looking completely defeated. You place an arm around her shoulder and give her a side hug. 

“Her dad is a cop. He has a lot of connections so I only get supervised visitations with her. If he finds out this happened to me he’ll make sure I never see her again.” 

“You’re not alone anymore. We’ll figure it out.” 

Regina gave a small nod but it broke your heart to see her so defeated. You’d been where she was when Eli started getting sick. All alone with no one to depend on. You wouldn’t let Regina feel the same way. 

She leans her head against your shoulder and you let her cry until she’s tired herself out.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. Both physically and emotionally and you didn’t think you could push yourself any further. You shuffled your way down the hallways until you reached Steve’s office. On the other side of the door you could hear him barking orders at everyone. You’d never heard him so angry before and you reconsidered interrupting but the door flew open before you could leave. 

Sam and Bucky both stood there with matching angry expressions that seemed to melt when they saw you. They stepped to the side to let the others through first.

“Hopefully you can calm him down a bit.” Bucky says while nodding towards the office. 

“He’s extremely pissed off, if he says something out of line you tell us and we’ll handle him.” 

“Thanks Sam but I think I can handle him all on my own.” 

“Yeah you can.” Bucky smirks and sends a wink your way. 

You roll your eyes and walk past them. Steve is pacing back and forth while shouting at whoever is on the other side of a phone call before hanging up. He turns when he hears the door closing. You lean your back against it and watch him. Steve’s eyes soften when he sees you. Without saying much he walks over to you, places his hands on either side of you and tilts his head to the side.

“What’s going on? Are you ok?” He asks softly. It had barely been twenty four hours since everything had happened. 

You look up at him through your lashes and shrug. Steve gave you a small smile before pulling you in for a hug. You felt the tension in your shoulders felt away. After a minute of Steve holding you he pulls you toward the couch and when he sits he takes you with him. This time you don’t wait for Steve to prompt you, you tuck yourself into his side and rest your head on his chest. 

“It’s been an emotionally draining day.” You say after a minute. 

“What can I do to help you?” 

“This is nice.” You tilt your head back to find Steve already looking at you. 

His fingers are tracing patterns over your arm as he takes you in. 

“What else? You can ask me for anything and I’ll give it to you.” 

“I don’t know. Eli’s fed, bathed and clothed. I don't think there’s much else.” 

“That’s Elijah. As long as I breathe I’ll always make sure he has everything he needs and more. I’m talking about you. What do you want?”

You huff and hide your face in his chest. This felt like too much. You didn’t know what you wanted because for so long you only had what you needed, barely. Now here stood a man that wanted to give you everything you could ever dream of and you were completely blanking. 

“How about we start with something small?” Steve asks. “If you could do one thing right now, what would it be?”

“I’d like to actually have a bubble bath. I didn’t get to enjoy one last night.”

“We can do that.” 

“We?” You narrowed your eyes suspiciously and Steve laughed. 

“You can do that.” 

You pulled away and laughed. Steve only grabbed your hand and pulled you into his side again. This time his hand rested at your waist just to make sure he could keep you there for a little bit longer. He needed to see you, to touch you and hear your voice. He was losing himself in a fit of rage the longer he thought about what you’d gone through. 

“What else?”

You shrugged again.

“Ok, we can start small. Give me ten minutes and meet me in your room.” 

“Steve, I can make my own bath.” 

Steve hums in acknowledgment but gets up anyway, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Ten minutes. Stay here.”

****

When the ten minutes were up you made your way up to your room. Steve had just walked out of your en-suite and nodded his head in its direction. You walked over and were surprised to find candles lighting the area. The scent of lavender filling the air and a glass of wine sitting on the counter. He’d also placed a few of your lotions and skin care items on the counter for you.

“You did all this for me?” Your voice is small as you asked. 

“Of course. Although this is just a little something, you deserve so much more. You do so much for everyone here. I thought I showed you how much we appreciate you.” 

You turn and smile at him. Steve sends a small wink your way and backs out of the bathroom doorway. 

“I’m going to hang out with Eli, join us when you’re done but take however long you’d like.” 

“Thanks Steve.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” 

You weren’t sure how long you spent in the bathroom but it was a needed break. After the water started getting cold you got out and did your skincare routine, then found a comfy pair of pajamas and you started to feel better. Once you were done you went to find Steve and Eli but they weren’t in Eli’s room. After searching their second favorite spot to hang out in, the balcony on the third floor you headed down. 

“Hey Peter.” You said as he stepped out of the hallway his room was in. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” 

“I should be asking you that.” 

“I’m ok, really.” He says after seeing the doubt on your face. “If you’re looking for Eli he’s in the theater room kicking Steve’s ass at Mario Kart.” 

You smiled before giving Peter a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, we’re friends.” 

“I do. Call me if you need anything ok.” 

“Yeah, see you later.” 

You nod before heading down to the first floor. Even from the bottom of the stairs you could hear Elijah hollering from the room at the end of the hallway. 

“I win, again.” Eli celebrates by jumping on the couch.

“You’re cheating.” 

“I’m not. You just suck cuz you’re an old man.” Eli shoots back.

“I’m not old.” Steve defends himself.

“It’s ok mom sucks at this game too.” 

“Hey.” You said from the door and Eli yelped before falling on the couch and trying to hide from you. His fit of giggles didn’t help him stay hidden though.

“Wanna say that to my face you punk.” 

Eli laughed harder once you grabbed his foot and pulled him towards you. You tickled his sides until he begged for you to stop. 

“Ma,” he said between laughs. “It’s true.” He takes a deep breath. “You suck at Mario Kart.” 

“Well I want to play so set me up.” 

You look up to see Steve smiling in your direction. 

“I’m gonna kick your butt too, Rogers.” 

He raised his eyebrow and he smirked. “Are you now? I think I can beat you.” 

“Yeah right.” 

“Fine, let’s bet on it.”  Steve challenges.

“Ok, what do you get if you win?”

“If I win, you go out on a date with me.” 

Elijah looks back and forth between the two of you, a bit excited at the possibility. 

“And if I win-“ you think for a moment and smile. “You have to wear a maid's uniform for a whole day.”

“A maid uniform? Really?” 

You give him a mischievous smile. “I’m talking French style.” 

Steve immediately shook his head in disagreement. “No way.”

“Why? Scared you’re gonna lose?” 

Steve narrowed his eyes at you before grabbing the controller again. He extended his free hand in your direction. “Shake on it.”

“What do I get if I win?” Elijah piped up. 

You and Steve chuckled. 

“How about you get to pick three new video games.” Steve offers and it’s your turn to raise eyebrows.

“That’s too much.” 

“Nonsense. It’s a fair trade but I’m sorry to say kid, I’m winning this round.” 

“Sure.” Elijah says sarcastically. 

The three of you start playing, yelling over each other. At one point you try to knock Steve’s controller out of his hand only for him to try the same thing on you. You were laughing even though your character was dead last and kept getting hit with shells or banana peels. By the end of the race Elijah and Steve were sitting waiting for your character to finally cross the finish line. 

“Will you look at that?” The smug look on Steve’s face annoyed you but you still wanted to smile. 

“Yeah, yeah. Congratulations Rogers, you win.” 

“It seems like it. Don’t worry, I'll make sure you enjoy our date.” 

You roll your eyes at him.

“Can we watch a movie now?” Elijah asked with a sweet smile on his face.

“Of course we can bub.” Steve says.

“Can we have snacks ma?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get some things together. I’ll be right back.” 

Eli smiled and watched as you walked out of the theater room. The moment the door was closed he turned to look at Steve. The smile he had dropped and he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“What’s going on little man?”

“Where do you plan on taking my mom on a date? Is it somewhere nice? Because she deserves something nice. And you have to treat her like a princess because mom never does anything nice for herself.”

Steve smiles. Elijah reminds him so much of himself at that age. Steve was and still is just as protective of his mom as Elijah is protective of you. 

“Yeah, I was thinking of doing something really nice for her.”

“Like a surprise?” 

“Just like a surprise. Maybe you can help me.” Steve nods. 

“Ok, I’ll help you. But remember you have to treat her nice, ok? Or else we,” Eli motions between himself and Steve. “Are going to have a problem.” 

Steve stifles a chuckle because Elijah had a no nonsense look on his face. This was a man to man conversation and Steve could respect that.

“I’m not kidding. Sam and Bucky said they had my back.” 

“I promise I’ll do everything I can to treat her nice and make sure she’s happy and you too.”

“Ok good.” Elijah says just as you walk back in with a tray of snacks and drinks for the three of you.

“So what are we watching?” 

“Luca.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” You murmur as you settle down.

Eli cuddles into your side to watch his favorite movie. You smile while looking down at your baby and then your eyes move up to find Steve looking at you. He had a soft smile on his lips and he winked at you before turning back to the screen. 

He could get used to this and he’s making it his mission to make you and Eli a permanent part of his life.

Ch. 9

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[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Seven

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Seven!! Sorry it's taken a while, I've been busy with life and went away with some friends, but it's finally here! It's a long one too, so hoping it makes up for the wait. Also, I write music but fuckkk is it hard trying to actually rap, so this is just a forewarning to everyone seeing as there's a scene in this part that involves exactly that! Hope you enjoy it anyway:) Thank you for all the love on this series!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

“What’s your favourite chocolate?” I wondered around the Twizzler I’d gone ahead and stolen from the bag he’d gotten at the 7-Eleven. We’d been driving for a little while now, just under a half hour if I had to guess, and between us we had already succumbed to three short-lived encounters with brain freeze, all down to the Slurpee we continued to keep sharing. 

“Like brand?” Marshall questioned me, face wrinkling in confusion as he made another left hand turn, fingers loosening around the steering wheel when it righted itself.

“No,” I shook my head in answer, chewing on the red stick before I held out its end to Em when he tipped his chin in an asking gesture, “I don't know. Like, type?”

He had to think about it for a second, jaw working against the chewy sweet whilst his eyes continued to trail the length of road ahead. “Fuck, I don’ know. Like a Hershey’s maybe?”

I pulled a face at the reply, “Boring. Figured you might say M&M’s or something. Bring a little irony to the table, you know?”

Marshall’s head tilted sideways to level me with a snide look before he stole the next Twizzler right from out of my hand, “Hilarious.” He deadpanned as he took a big bite, “Come on then, Judge Judy. Tell me yours.”

Even whilst wrinkling my nose at his reference to the Tv Judge, I was quick with my retort, “Easy. Can’t go wrong with a Flake or a KitKat.”

“Heard of that first one.” Marshall mentioned, face dropping its previous snark as he pondered on my answer, “Ain’t ever tried it though.”

My eyes widened as I simultaneously turned to face him, ignoring the way my knee knocked against the centre console in my haste. “Oh, you’ve got to! It’s honest to God like Heaven melting in your mouth.”

With an unconvinced brow, Marshall just blew out a breath and shook his head at me. “But a KitKat?” He added after a second passed, “I don’t know. I mean, a chunky I could prolly get behind.”

My upper lip curled, “A chunky, really? What are you, twelve?”

Marshall returned the quip with a stupid look and then stole the rest of the Twizzler pack as a form of retaliation.

I rolled my eyes and it wasn’t long before he waved the topic away, claiming it was stupid anyway because Oreos were supposedly where it was at. An opinion which was strong enough steered us onto a whole new debate: biscuits vs cookies. 

I was still fighting for my life by the time Em eventually pulled the car off to the side, rolling up onto a curb outside a strip of buildings that appeared to get a whole lot of use. “All I’m saying is that a cookie is a kind of biscuit, right? So what the fuck sense does it make to claim that they’re all cookies?”

We’d since come to a slow stop, so confused I pivoted in my seat to look around us with a slight frown, catching sight of a bar on the very corner, a stretch of offices sat on the opposing side, and a huge block building that had long been dubbed ‘Saint Andrew’s’.

“This some sort of convent?” I wondered out loud whilst Marshall simply switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. When I glanced over at him again I found him already wearing an amused smirk, one which seemed to brighten at my words, though he just shook his head at my question. It was then that he chose to jump out. “Marsh?”

I was left with the low sound of his chuckle just as the door clicked shut behind him, leaving me in sudden silence whilst I watched the man round the front of the car. Blinking, I could only move to follow him, undoing my belt and finishing the last of the Slurpee before my door was opening all on its own. I raised a brow at Em’s gentlemanly act when I climbed out to join him on the pavement, but kept quiet about it as he shut the door behind me and locked up.

“Thanks.” I breathed out before peering around us once more, taking in the noisy street and the rowdy crowd that was gathered inside the bar a couple car lengths away. “Will you tell me where we are now though?”

“And spoil all the fun?” Marshall smirked, eyes glistening now as he backed away from the curb to start up the set of stairs leading into the big block building that had caught my eye a minute earlier. 

My face flattened, “You’re the only one having fun here.”

The grin he flashed me was cheeky and only lasted that of a split second before he was gesturing me to follow him up, tucking his hands away in his pockets when we finally reached the top step and came to a stop in front of a pair of heavy wooden doors that gave off such a retro feel. 

Staying quiet, Marshall was quick to push through them, as though he’d done it a thousand times before, slipping inside and holding the bottom plank open with just a foot so that I could join him. I wrapped my arms around myself slightly as the door stilted shut behind us, the sound echoing out. 

As I walked a little further inside, my gaze caught on the building’s lofty interior, a total contrast from both its outer disguise and what I’d first expected. It was a large lobby of sorts; four long tables were stationed in the very centre, a short stretch away from a snazzy looking bar detailed with ebony wood and warm lighting in the back, and adjacent to a set of stairs which led upwards.

I glanced back over at Em, who appeared to be watching me rather than taking in the room. I felt myself flush lightly under his gaze but quick to cover it up as I took another glance around, noting a different set of double doors sat on the other side of the room and a couple of sofas dotted around by the surrounding walls. I swallowed lightly before turning back to him, “Bit early to be drinking, no?”

It was a joke, a silly one seeing as he’d been sober for years, but one which seemed to loosen the atmosphere around us further as his mouth quirked upwards slightly and he moved to walk once more, nodding his head at me to follow. 

Follow I did, eyes catching on all sorts of details the building had to offer as he led me across the room and through the mentioned pair of doors, turning away from what appeared to be the ‘main event’ (a rather large hall decked out with a stage and a plethora of seating rows) so that he could instead jog down a hall full of metal stairs. 

The heavy door at the very bottom opened with a long squeak and although there had been people dotting the building here and there as we’d walked through, I took quick note of the small group which resided down here. There were only about six of them, from what I could first tell, the majority messing about with wires and other equipment by a platform stage whilst another two stood behind what looked to be a bar. 

My attention was ultimately caught though by the two men bickering back and forth by the side of the stage, just in front of a DJ booth.

“Fuck you, man. I’ma do what I like!” The first one spat, nose wrinkled as he swiped a microphone right from out of the other man’s hand. He was a few inches shorter than the latter but didn’t seem to mind, nor care, about that fact as he practically tiptoed to better get in the guy’s face. 

“Awh Jesus man, Soup! Why you always clownin’ around?” The second blew out, tossing the rest of the mic’s lead his way as he swatted at the air, “I mean, come on. You always tryna switch shit up when shit don’ need to be switched up!”

Soup? If that really was his name, didn’t seem to much care about his mate’s lack of excitement for whatever plans he had brewing as he fumbled with the jack lead and jumped back at him to defend himself. “I ain’t clownin’, dawg! Just trust me here on this one, this is gone bring a whole load’a new people in, D! I just know they gone be linin’ up out the door to get their hands on this stuff.”

“We ain’t sellin’ fuckin’ club merch, Soup. How many times I gotta say it?” ‘D’ retorted and shook his head as he turned his back on the other man to grab the rest of the equipment they’d obviously been unboxing.

“Yo, when have I ever been wrong ‘bout shit like this?” Soup followed up, unrelenting as he dragged the mic along with him, creating enough of a trip hazard that I worried when a young guy in a yellow cap swerved on past him. But it appeared that everyone here was far too used to the duo’s antics because the man in the cap skipped over the lead with an ease that looked utterly effortless, making it to the bar in one piece whilst the other two continued on none the wiser.

“How ‘bout every damn time?” D huffed with a look thrown over his shoulder, before he then sighed, “We stick to what we know, man. Stop houndin’ me with all this other crap.”

It was just as Soup opened his mouth to argue his case yet again that Marshall laughed from beside me, making me jump ever so as the noise rang out across the room. Heads spun in our direction then, most eyes widening at the sight of the infamous newcomer but mine were caught on the matching set of grins that Em was immediately met with when kicked off the wall he’d been leaning against, content with having watched the argument play out.

“Mickey, my man!” D hollered, dropping what he held back into the box to meet Marshall halfway. 

“Thought I told you to stop callin’ me that.” But even with the snippy retort, Em was smiling as the two of them clapped hands, sharing a short embrace before Soup wormed his way between them. 

D shook his head as he took a large step back, although the man was still grinning, eyes captured on the two friends, “Shit, man. It’s good to see you.”

Marshall just smiled before he turned to the shorter man and clapped him on the back, “How you doin’, Soup?” He let his hood fall back as he stood before the small group around us, seeming to become more alive in their presence, “Still mouthin’ off, I see.”

My own lips quirked up at that, watching the three of them from the sidelines. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that they had history, all of them sharing an easy comradery that I hadn’t much seen yet with Em since I’d first arrived, and already I was hooked on watching it all play out.

“I ain’t mouthin’ off, man. This idea’s the real deal!” Soup countered and he was smiling so wide that I could see the silver tooth that was embedded where his front left should have been over from where I stood. “Genius even! Could see it settin’ us up ‘til The Jam finally passes.”

I had no idea what the fuck ‘The Jam’ was but I had a calculating thought as to what the underground level of Saint Andrew’s supposedly was now. It was a little surreal once I’d latched onto the idea, in truth, never having figured I’d be standing in The Shelter of all places. The building was notorious on its own, having hosted a plethora of artists up in the main hall, people like Nirvana, R.E.M., The Beastie Boys, Iggy Pop, Blur, and Bob Dylan. And so I kicked myself for not having realised it sooner, the venue truly was one of the best in the city! Then again, I’d only ever really heard it iconically dubbed as The Shelter.

Marshall appeared to look back over at me then as he shook his head at Soup’s justification, grin softening ever so. I smiled back at him, gaze flickering over the expanse of his face, taking in what I could.

“Yo, come on over.” He said, voice travelling over to me without him even having to yell. The two men seemed to recognise my presence then as they turned to get a good glance at just who Em seemed to be speaking to. So, accompanied by only a little trepidation, I walked over to meet them, D eyes calculating whilst Soup’s lips pursed in an act of surprise, his eyes raking over me.

“Woo, Slim. And they claim you gotta type!” Soup all but whistled at my approach, earning a raised brow from me and a hearty backhand from his promoter friend. 

Marshall just rolled his eyes, seemingly used to it, arm stretching out to welcome me into the odd triangle they’d created, an action I allowed even as his hand came to rest on the small of my back. “Ignore Soup, he ain’t never been near a lady.” 

Blowing out an unexpected chuckle, I pressed my lips together before they eventually settled into akin to a smirk, eyes flitting over the two men. “Most would beg to differ with those pretty eyes.” I quipped, ignoring the man’s previous remark but filing it away for later.

Soup blinked at the obvious complement, seemingly dazed for a split second before he bounced back with a kilowatt grin. He looked between Marshall and D smugly, batting his eyelashes. “Y’all see?” He said, before he turned to me, “I been tellin’ ‘em, baby. But do they listen? No.”

D rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, apparently done with him as he shoved Soup hard enough for the man to stumble slightly to the side, ignoring the scowl he got in turn whilst Marshall just snorted, the hand on my back unmoving. “You really gone dropped yourself in it now.” D chuckled to him, peering over at me with a sweet smile that warmed his face whilst Soup tried to right himself, “What, Mickey didn’t warn you?”

“Mickey?” I wondered, eyes flitting between the two. I grinned when Em groaned lowly, tossing his head back a tad.

D laughed at my ask, the sound bright in the shrouded shadows of which lower levels of the building offered, “As a kid he had these giant fuckin’ ears, his momma called him it the first time she picked him up from school and well, it sorta stuck.”

“Actually?” I looked back over at Marshall with an almost adoring face, peering past the brim of his cap to get a better look at his ears, “Oh my god, I can actually see it now!”

I joined D in his snickering after, muffling my amusement slightly when Em’s eyes narrowed a tad in a playful way, his hand dropping from my lower back to pinch my furthest hip. I raised my own in a silent surrender, but his settled there. 

“Yeah, yeah. Eat it up.” The man scoffed whilst he shook his head at us, pointing an accusing finger over at D, who’d since settled a hand on his stomach to keep from bowling over, “You know I’ma have to get you back for that one.”

D merely waved the warning away, just as Soup slid on over to pipe up once more, “Ayo, you gone introduce us to yo girl then, Slim, or you just waitin’ on me to work my magic?” He asked around a smug smile, shucking the collar of his heavy jacket before he flashed me a flirty look, “Homegirl’s got a real pretty voice, too. Where you from, baby?”

Never had I ever had someone be so blatant, I was honestly unsure if he was just messing around in hopes to annoy Em or if he was actually trying his luck with me. A little wide eyed, I looked back at Marshall stumped. The man’s face had flattened a tad at Soup’s remarks but his smirk was still ever present.

“Lay off it, man.” D sighed before Marshall could say anything at all, cheek dimpling as he shook his head once more at the shorter man. 

“I’m just sayin’!” Soup proclaimed before he spun back around to face Em, “A girl that fine is gone get snatched up real quick, man.”

“Keep talkin’ and you might not keep your tongue.” Marshall responded calmly enough, though it shocked me enough to have me keeping quiet as the man stared back at Soup unblinkingly, lifting an eyebrow at him whilst his hand continued to reside at my hip.

“Oo and the claws have come out!” D cut in with a whoop, obviously humoured by it all, but his response was enough to have Marshall rolling his eyes and for another small smirk to toy at the corner of his lips.

Soup grinned as well, hands held up in a placating gesture, “You know I mean no harm, Slim.”

“Yeah, you ain’t never mean it.” Marshall shot back around a low chuckle, clucking his tongue when Soup immediately tried to argue his case, rapidly mentioning a house fire, some sort of robbery that had gone wrong and then an accidental shooting far too quickly for me to really ask anymore about it, because Em chose then to speak over him, ultimately cutting him off. “You done?”

With a huff, Soup let up. “I was just sayin’.”

D snorted, “When the hell are you not just sayin’, my man."

Marshall shook his head at the duo and wet his lower lip before he finally moved to introduce us, although it was also in that moment that his hand finally slipped away. The lack of it had me blinking. 

“Boys, this is Elia. El, this here is Soup and Drew.” Drew shot me a smile alongside a slight tilt of his chin, whilst Soup just wiggled his brow. Marshall continued on with a swift jab to the latter’s abdomen, ignoring the slight squark given, “Known these guys since middle school.”

I tried to add up the age in my head, forever baffled by the difference in education here to that back home. Em must have realised it too, because his next smile was wry and knowing.

“‘Bout ten, if I had to guess.” He mentioned just to settle the matter for me, before he looked back at D and Soup to explain, “Girl’s from London, they do shit different over there.”

I rolled my eyes, though my smile gave away to the fact that he’d amused me with his explanation. Drew nodded in understanding whilst Soup– well, he was Soup, “Oh shit! I thought all them talked real classy.”

My brow rose all on its own, “This your way of saying I’m not classy?”

His eyes grew huge as he realised his mistake, stuttering to correct himself and stumbling ever so to be sure of it, “Nah, no! What? I jus’– I meant it like–” He spluttered before he finally landed on, “I said you had a real pretty voice!”

Snorting, I let myself smile which appeared to ease the man’s evident worry over having offended me and had the remaining two snickering between themselves. He shot the pair of them a scathing look and elbowed Drew, who in return just laughed that little bit harder.

“Shut it.”

I almost felt bad. Peering back over at Soup, I eventually spoke, “You’re all good. I was just teasing.”

“Teasin’.” Soup seemed to linger on the word, twirling it over his tongue and around his mouth as he muttered the word over again, lower lip turning itself out in thought. “Dope.”

Marshall shook his head with a huff before his eyes eventually landed on me once more, I widened my own in jest, but the wordless moment was cut short by D. “Aye, you ain’t the same Elia that sung Sinnerman are you?”

My head jolted back ever so slightly in surprise. Sinnerman had been an early days cover, one from when I’d been busking in pubs way back when and of the few that had been filmed on a shaky camcorder and uploaded to the internet by some random patron. I hadn’t thought of the video in well over a decade, but remembered it had managed to gather a large enough viewing at some point that it had dragged more people into the pub to see me.

Fishmouthing slightly, I nodded just the once. “Yeah. God, yeah. Wow, you saw that?”

Marshall’s brow had since furrowed, watching the conversation play out between us just as Drew’s face brightened considerably. “Hell yeah I saw that! That shit was cold, girl. Remembered hearin’ your voice and thinkin’ 'she’s gone make it someday.” He told me, making me flush a tad at the praise, “‘n I was right.” He continued on, nudging his chin over in my direction with a thoughtful smile, “Knew I recognised you from somewhere. Saw one of your shows when I was last in LA, couple years back now though.”

I actually giggled at that, fingers jumping up to cover my mouth whilst I shook my head slightly, “That’s insane.”

“Hold up,” Soup interrupted, a bemused look marring his face, “So you famous too? You ‘member how I just said you was fine, yeah?”

“Soup, man.” Marshall warned around a put upon sigh.

“I’m jus–”

“Just sayin’. Yeah, we know.” Drew finished for him, smirking as he rolled his brown eyes.

Chuckling, I went a little easy on the former, “I’ll make sure to remember.”

Soup perked up at that, tossing the other two a prideful look, whilst Em’s gaze turned Heavenwards. 

It was then that Drew turned to pick up the equipment he’d since dropped, the three of us following him as he spoke, “So what you doin’ down in these parts anyway? Figured you’d be workin’ or some shit ‘cause last we saw you was way back in December.” He threw a couple of cables Soup’s way, huffing out a soft chuckle when the man fumbled to catch them, earning himself a glare he didn’t respond to. “Made a fuckton of sales then though. Got me thinkin’ maybe you should show your face ‘round here more often. We all know those magazines don’t want it no more.”

Marshall flipped him off but came to a stand beside him, reaching inside the box to help out. “Still as unfunny as ever, D.” He replied, handing me a couple of packs to hold onto whilst he grabbed a few more, “Was showin’ Ms. London over there the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d stop in to see how you two knuckleheads were doin’ without me.”

“Hey we survived this long!” Soup exclaimed to him around a laugh, struggling with a mic stand he’d since dragged up onto the stage.

“Don’t I know it.” Drew murmured in a funny sort of self-suffering way that made me grin, “You take her to Cow’s head?”

The question had Marshall rolling his eyes as the man sorted through the packs he’d gathered, me aiding with the process whilst I listened. “Shithole’s gone be there longer than I ever will be, figured I’d have time.”

D blew out a chuckle, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Red.” I mentioned, handing back the pack Marshall had attempted to give me, fingers brushing over the back of his as he dipped his chin in a show of acknowledgement. “What’s the Cow’s head anyway?”

“Old ice-cream stand on Mack. Used to use it during drivebys or to just deal. You remember Jimmy? He still works that corner.” Drew explained, aiming that last bit over at Em, which ended up making the man chuckle around a small tutting sound. D continued on though, for my supposed benefit, “But mostly it was just a place people got caught hookin’ up behind.”

Feeling bold, I was quick to quip, “And I paint you as that type of girl, do I, D?”

Widening my stare up at the man when his head darted backwards with a shuttered expression, Marshall could only snicker beside me. “Awh, come on, be nice.” He said, though his smile was jeering, “I tell you, Drew’s a real feminist.”

Sharing a smile with him, I was quick to look back at the man in question, who in turn merely tossed another pack at Em, who narrowly avoided it hitting him upside the head. “Asshole.” Drew sniped, “A guy dates one vegan chick and a brother never lets him live it down.”

“It weren’t ‘cause she didn’t like meat, man!” Soup added his two cents in, smile smug as he propped himself up on the mic stand, “It was ‘cause she didn’t - like - meat!”

Marshall’s loud laugh had me looking up, instantly invested in watching the way his eyes closed with the action and how his cheeks then appled. He caught me watching him when he lowered his head and rolled his eyes fondly at his friend, figuring I’d only been staring because I hadn’t caught onto Soup’s joke, “Next person she dated was this vampy chick who worked at Chilly's.”

My mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape before I was tittering away too, much to Drew’s obvious displeasure, the man waved the three of us away with a lazy hand before he carried on hooking up a couple mics.

It continued on that way for a short while, me listening to the trios odd stories and funny tales from their youth whilst Drew and Soup grew comfortable enough to ask me a little more about myself. Though both of them were wholly invested in the story of how Marshall and I met, Soup latching onto it before I could think about where the explanation might lead.

“Come on then, woman.” The man was quick to start, jerking his head at me in a sudden rush of enthusiasm as he jumped past the DJ booth, “Let’s see what you’re made of.”

My forehead pinched in confusion as I pushed myself up from where I’d been crouching down by an amp. It was an older model and the fuse at the back really needed to be resoldered, but it would work for a while longer. I looked over at the man and his newfound excitement, brows furrowing further, “What?”

Soup just waved me over though to where he was now centred midstage. “You heard me, get yo ass up here!”

I could only look to Em then and when he didn’t offer me anything other than an amused shrug, cheek twitching, I turned to Drew.

The tall man simply raised his hands before he shrugged too, smiling ever so sweetly. “Need to mic check anyway,” He mentioned, jutting his chin over to where Soup continued to stand, “I propose a battle.”

“Hell yeah, man!” Soup hollered loudly, already moving to grab a set of mics from the front panel, sending an audible squeak through the room that had most of its occupants wincing. 

“Not happening.” I quickly shot down, shaking my head as I moved away from the amp– and therefore the stage. 

“Why, you scared?” Soup prodded mockingly, earning a low ‘ooh’ from both Marshall and Drew. 

“Terrified.” Came my deadened retort, before I chewed at the inside of my cheek, gaze flitting back and forth between Soup and the duo perched by the side of the deck. “There’s no way I’m doing it.” I added, furthering my previous answer.

“Don’t have to be long. A minute max.” Drew assured me, already moving to work the amp that the mics were connected to. My eyes widened at the move, flicking back to Em in one final plea.

“Don’t look at me.” The older man laughed, his blue eyes shining. “I already done did my time here.”

Way to rub it in, I thought to myself before looking towards the stage with a pinched expression. 

One final glance between the three men and I knew I couldn’t say no, not without a fight at the very least, so I let go of the heavy breath I was holding and took a big step up onto the stage’s panelling, holding out a hand to Soup for the remaining microphone. “Don’t say I never did nothing.” I heard myself say, earning a round of chuckles just as D finished setting up and Soup started to stretch theatrically. “I hate you all.”

“El-i-a.” Marshall started up and immediately my head snapped over to find him stood by the front of the stage, hands circling his mouth. “El-i-a!” He chanted again right as a steady beat came through the overhead speakers. I felt my stomach flip and was quick to shoot the man a scathing glare, not that Em minded it, continuing to grin up at me. Smug as could be.

It was that, I supposed, which had me forcing back the bile that was now building, enough to try and shake the nerves away too. I could do it, I breathed in deeply, it was just a little fun. Nothing unlike what Danny and I used to do as kids, making breakfast whilst mum was dead asleep in the next room or off getting high someplace else.

“You ready, Limey?” Soup snarked, but it only proved to further stoke that fire that had started. 

“You first.” 

Soup dipped his head before he started bouncing it to the rhythm, torso soon following it. I tensed as I waited for his first line, sole focus on the man stood across from me and wondering how the fuck people did this in front of such a huge crowd. All I could do was pray that I didn’t embarrass myself too much.

“See, this here is a little white girl, 

Who’s momma told her she could have the whole wide-world,

But just ‘cause she got Slim wrapped ‘round her fin-ger,

Don’t mean that my boy’s ever gonna ring her,

He’s a wraith, yeah, which means he never ling-ers,

Have her sleepin’ in his bed ‘fore he finds another singer.

And that’s not on me clownin’ girl, I’ve seen it,

He’ll wrap and tap, and then he’ll jus’ go ‘n leave it,

You cute and all but you ain’t nothin’ spec-ial,

We all know white girls ain’t on a brother’s lev-el,

So while you thinkin’ you out here makin’ it big,

Jus’ remember who’s runnin’ this motherfuckin’ gig.”

Pursing my lips to keep from grinning too broadly– an act to keep up the facade that this was a very real battle and that his words had actually stung me– I then booed the performance whilst the rest of the room applauded, a few laughs and cheers echoing out around us. “Alright, I see. That’s how it’s gonna be.”

Soup shrugged cooly, though his smile was wide and teasing. “I went easy on you, girl.”

I hummed disbelievingly, then looked over my shoulder at Drew, who nodded in understanding, moving to continue the beat. I sucked in a small breath and attempted to feel the rhythm, the way it pulsed beneath my feet and how it seemed to jump between my ribs. 

It was a split second decision I made to glance over at Marshall in the next moment which came and although he stood surly, arms crossed over his chest whilst he waited for me to start, his eyes were watching, anticipating. Between us we’d yet to work on any real music and so I figured this could be my shot to show him what I was really made of.

I inhaled.

“Man, you know for a rapper I think you’re missing one restriction,

The same type they tell kids is in the terms ‘n conditions, 

When they try and ride the big boy rides at the theme park, 

Only to find out that they went and fucking missed the mark.

I mean, I guess you’re kinda cute for a– short guy,

But kings are made, baby, so I won’t spin you a lie,

‘Bout how it’s okay to only miss a couple inches,

‘Cause it's one thing height wise, but your dick looks like the Grinches.

And I know I should probably stop before I hurt your ego,

But with a name like Soup that ships since sailed, amigo,

Like I can’t help but wonder who’d your mother hate more?

You, or that motherfucking grocery store.”

A loud chorus of applause went up as soon as the beat dropped, leaving me looking back at Soup’s slack jaw in the stooped light. It was only when Drew whooped right by my ear that I realised he’d jumped past the booth to drag both Soup and I into his hold, shaking our shoulders hard enough to rattle the pair of us. 

I let the mic slip slightly in my hold, arm dropping to my side as I casted a slow glance out at the audience, finding that a few more people had slipped into the room since we’d started the stupid battle. My chest tightened a little at the realisation but it was easy to let go of the anxiety when Drew was all but bouncing beside me.

“Damn, girl! That was cold, honestly thought Soup would have you there.” D grinned, looking down at me whilst Soup managed to release himself from the taller man’s hold. “You did anything like this before?” He asked and I had to shake my head.

“Hang on. You just butchered and served me up on a plate, ‘n now you gone deny not ever battlin’ before?” Soup spluttered, eyes wide as dinner plates, enough though to match his growing grin, “Woman, you don’t expect me to really believe you.”

Laughing, I tried to rally, but it was then that another body joined the masses, sliding in beside me. It was their appearance that had Drew’s arm loosening its hold on me. 

“She ain’t lyin’. I’ve heard her spit a little before, I won’t deny it, but that was some next level shit.” Marshall commented, absorbing all of my attention. “You went in hard.” He laughed incredulously, eyes roaming over me as though he was taking me in again in a whole other way. I felt my cheeks heat but couldn't decide whether or not it was down to the sudden attention we’d garnered or just him. 

“Hard?” Drew cut in, “Girl killed him!”

Soup shoved him as payback but it wasn’t enough to really trip the man. “I said I went easy!”

D hummed sarcastically, dragging it out long enough to earn himself another hearty shove before he then chuckled, “Face it, Soup. You got yo short ass handed to you.”

“Sorry, man.” Marshall stepped in before it could escalate and it was then he draped his arm over my shoulders, drawing me in enough to have me leaning against his side. “D ain’t wrong. Best hope no one breathes a word, otherwise you gone be fighting for your life in the next battle.”

I rolled my eyes at the sudden dramatics, and again when Soup’s expression troubled slightly, I shook my head. “I’m gonna say it again, I hate all of you.”

The words earned me a few laughs and the feel of Em’s chin coming to rest atop my head.

–

The drive back was made up of a dull buzzing tension, most of which emanated from me, seeing as I was still riding out the waves of anxiety I’d experienced throughout the battle and then after. I’d gotten a few nods of approval once I’d stepped off the stage under Em’s arm, Soup still echoing his previous sentiment of having gone easy on the new girl, and then a couple people's praises when Marshall had finally decided to head on out, claiming that we had places to be. 

So he’d said his goodbyes to his longtime friends, with both Soup and Drew managing to worm their way into my followers list on Twitter and having put their numbers in my phone. They’d claimed it was so I always knew that I had a place to come visit if I ever found myself back in Detroit and so I echoed the notion, saying that they could have tickets to any show they liked and a tour of London if they ever made the trip. Something which had seemed to please Marshall, seeing as his smile stuck all the way back up to the car. 

“I still can’t believe I did that.” I breathed once we were a little way away, The Shelter less than a dot behind us in the rearview mirror. 

Marshall blew out a small chuckle, “Why not?”

Shrugging, I found that I didn’t really have an obvious answer to his question. “I don’t know, just not my thing, you know? Like I never pictured myself doing anything like that.”

He made a short hum in retort, “I get that. Still, it was a sight to see.” He snickered after, mouth lifting into what I’d label a sarky smile, “Doubt Soup will live it down for a while.”

I winced before eventually laughing too, thinking back on the entire experience. “They’re good guys, real nice. It’s been a while since I really had fun like that.”

Marshall’s head turned to look over at me, eyes lingering on mine. “Me too.”

The smile that took over my face truly was unavoidable and so I looked towards the passenger window in hopes to shield him from it. “You do that often then?” I asked once a half a dozen shop fronts had passed us by, “Drag people down there in hopes they’ll destroy what’s left of Soup’s reputation.” I added teasingly when all he’d done was gift me a look of vague confusion. 

The skin between his brows slackened in understanding before he then shook his head, “Nah, reckon you’re the first.”

I blinked slowly at that revelation. “But you said–”

Marshall glanced over at me but was quick to hone his focus back on the road. “Know what I said. Also mentioned that it never worked out, remember?”

I did, remember that is. And immediately thought back to the earlier conversation we’d shared on the car ride over to his old home and how the people he’d let in never seemed to get why all this mattered so much. “Was that what Soup was on about then? When he claimed people thought you had a type.”

Em had to think back on that one and was quiet for a second or two before he worked his jaw. I wondered if he was reminded of the fact that once again he’d failed to mention that I wasn't in fact his girl. I didn’t ask about it.

“Nah, I guess that’s down to them havin’ met a couple of the women I’ve dated.” Marshall evaded slightly, confusing me enough to prod.

“What do you mean?”

He was silent for a long moment, but I allowed him it, figuring that whether he answered or not would be down to him. I wasn’t the type to force shit out of a person. 

“After Kim,” He started slowly, already assuming that I knew most of it, which wasn’t incorrect, if you listened to the guy’s music then you probably knew more than needed. “Lot of the girls I was seeing were fling type shit. Superficial, you know? A couple models, other famous people wantin’ to hop on the wagon. Tried to date a few women who weren’t immersed in that lifestyle after rehab and my divorce, but it didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.”

I chewed on my inner cheek, pondering over the string of women who had been welcomed into Marshall’s life. Still stuck on the thought that Soup reckoned I was different to them just from looking at me. ‘Cause see, I knew I was probably overthinking this but I wasn’t horrible looking, had to be at least a little attractive to sell albums with my face on, but I was far from being that of a model. That much I knew. In truth, I didn’t even know why I was so hung up on the thought, me and Em were just friends, that was all.

“Still, I figured that maybe Kim just fucked all that up for me. Hard to trust, to let people in. ‘Sposed it was easier just havin’ people leave before they could fuck me up any further.” Marshall explained, none the wiser to my thoughts as he drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, “Drew and Soup, they’ve been ‘round for a long while, before Dre, ‘fore I ever even thought too hard about rappin’. They saw me through it all. I guess when you came over they kind of figured that shit had to be different, I ain’t never brought no one ‘round here to them, let alone a girl they’d never met.”

I ran my tongue over my lower lip as I listened, it wasn’t a complete answer to my question— why Soup had figured Marshall had a type and me being far from it— but it was him opening up and I wasn’t about to spit in his face and get all prickly over it.

“Should I feel a sense of privilege then?” I found myself poking fun at him instead, an effort to get away from the handful of ideas that had started to plague my mind. “‘Cause I feel like I should.”

Em laughed, the gesture light, easy. It felt like the visit to Saint Andrew’s had done us both some good. “Fuckin’ right. Shelter alone is somethin’ I don’t visit all that often. D and Soup are just an added nuisance, I guess.”

“Shut up.” I chuckled in return, shaking my head at his words, knowing just how much bullshit they held after having witnessed the relationship the three of them shared. “You love ‘em.”

With a grunt, Marshall then shrugged around a quiet smirk. “Come on, today’s been all about me, I’m sick of it. Don’t tell me you ain’t got no mad stories about a couple crappy exes.”

It was an invite as well as a dip into a pool of unasked questions, a topic where Em didn’t seem too keen on overstepping. But he was right, he’d given me a lot today and that meant something.

“I don’t know what to say really.” I answered him with a subtle shrug, “Never really had an ex.”

Marshall almost came to a full stop with the way his foot stuttered over the brake. The action would have earned us a lot of loud beeps, maybe even a small collision if we hadn’t been the only ones driving down this particular side road.

“Shit, Marshall! What the fuck?” I exclaimed in one fluid breath, releasing my hold on the car door I’d gone and grabbed onto in my haste to stop my body from propelling forward into the dash. I fixed him with a wide eyed stare, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Why’d I do that? Why’d you say that?” He countered, as if he was making any sense at all. 

“Say what!” I asked him, voice shrill and still a decibel too high after the sudden scare, but Marshall appeared mostly unphased by it, having started driving again despite everything. 

He scoffed, “That someone as pretty as you don’t have no exes.” 

I paused, noting that the way my heart stuttered was very similar to the way the car had, suddenly and then all at once. But although I was surprised by the compliment, I forced myself to relax a tad, ignoring how my pulse jumped rapidly in my throat– down to the scare or his words I wouldn’t ever know. 

“I don’t.” I told him point blank, hoping that the heat I felt in my face was just that and not me blushing. “I mean, I've had little flings and the odd date, but nothing like— I don’t know, nothing too real or long lasting.” Describing that fact was more than a little embarrassing, I wouldn’t lie, it always made me feel less than in a strange way. 

“There ain’t no way.” Marshall continued on, unknowingly driving that particular wedge in further I supposed. “There’s gotta be somebody.”

I sighed. “No. But if you want a story, the last person I was seeing was this singer, we worked together on my last album, flirted, fucked and then went on a couple dates. He stayed with me in London for a while but ended up sleeping with one of my close friends on my sofa, so, you know.”

I let go of the rest of breath I’d been holding onto then, shoulders slumping a little with it, before I suddenly remembered the next part to that particular tale. 

“Oh! And he also decided to dedicate the whole B side of his next album to it. Can you believe that? The B side, Marshall. I mean fair enough, write about an experience and what fucking not, but the B side? That’s just kicking a person whilst they’re already down, no?” I added, shaking my head in hopes to get rid of the memory, but no such luck. “He was the one who did that film too, um— I can’t for the life of me remember the name of it, but when they won that Academy award last year he mentioned me as the ‘one who got away’ and then thanked me for being the reason he was able to channel so much of his ability into the character.”

I actually had to laugh at the reminder, having been utterly fuming when the whole thing had gone down. But I guessed that enough time had passed since then that I only questioned the very decision I’d made to have let that arsehole and his tiny dick anywhere near me whenever his name was mentioned. 

“Shit’s messed up.” Em blew out, eyes alert and flitting back and forth between me and the road.

Snorting in reply to that, I couldn’t help but shoot him a wry grin. “No shit. But yeah, I don’t know. I’ve never really let anyone get too close, I ‘spose. Just easier to keep people at arm's length than give them the chance to hurt me.”

“Damn,” Marshall said, “talk about daddy issues.”

Surprised by his words, a laugh bubbled up out of me, “Like you’re one to talk.”

Em’s lips pursed in an attempt to dim his amusement to that, turning the wheel with a single motion and letting it drag back over his palm when we turned onto the next street. “Still. It’s hard to believe.”

I gave a soft chuckle in reply, letting my head loll against the headrest so that I could bat my lashes in his direction, “Why, ‘cause I’m so pretty?” I teased him, recalling his earlier statement.

Marshall’s head shake was slight but visible, as was the tiny curve his mouth made.

I reached out to poke his shoulder, smirking now. “Come on, say it again.”

He swatted my hand away before I could continue on with my fun, “Anyone ever tell you you’re also annoyin’ as fuck?”

“Yes.” I replied easily enough, “No one’s ever called me pretty though.”

“Liar.”

I laughed, the bright sound filling up the car. “Yeah, but at least I’m pretty too.” He went to open his mouth after I said that but I beat him to the jump, “Can’t take it back now you’ve already said it!”

Tutting, Marshall had to shake his head again, eyes flitting over to my wide smile, trailing the length of it. “Such a shithead.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“What are you, two?”

“Maybe.” I shot back, pointing over at him. “What’s that make you then, if I’m two and you think I’m pretty?”

Marshall caught my finger with his free hand in retaliation and clung to it as he resettled his arm back in his lap, “Fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Least I’m not a creep.”

“Asshole.” 

“Dickhead.”

“Bitch.” He quipped, eyes gleaming as they darted over to meet mine.

I shook my head in hopes to hide my growing grin, but it was then that I instantly perked up, gaze catching on the large allotment sat up ahead. “Oh, let’s go there!”

“What, to Trader Joe's?” Marshall voiced his confusion at the sudden switch in topic, though his expression was much softer than I had expected in the face of my excitement when I peered back around to look over at him.

“Yeah, can we?” I pushed, an idea now blossoming. “I wanna get some ingredients, bake something nice before Rosie gets home.”

Lifting a single brow, Marshall’s eyes flickered rapidly between my own for a split second. He was quiet before he eventually flipped his indicator to switch lanes, “You gone bake me a cake just ‘cause I called you pretty?”

A full blown grin broke out on my face at that and it was too hard to hide this one from Marshall, seeing as I’d been looking right at him. “No, ‘cause you’re gonna help me.”

[peachmangofuzz]

baby fever - shohei ohtani au

summary: (i don't think this needs a summary, the title says it all lol)

word count: 10,584K

tags: fluff, mentions of sex, impregnation

other notes: midnight word vomit things~ i honestly didn't think i would be able to write something so soon after the one i posted on NYE but i'm blaming that video of shohei playing with some kids on my timeline. my thoughts have secured me a seat in hell.

enjoy and cry in delusion with me.

=====================================

Shohei couldn’t help himself but beam all the way home. He had spent his entire day surrounded by a group of kids no older than twelve years old, the youngest around five, to help facilitate the annual children sports camp at the elementary school he worked at. Being the only teacher who had played baseball during his primary and secondary years in school, he was elected by default to coach a few hours’ session of baseball basics to which he did not object. Aside from that, he also helped facilitate another few hours in assisting the lead teachers during the games like scavenger hunt, capture the flag, and water balloon dodgeball. The last one being his favorite, he was just supposed to be watching and making sure none of the kids get hurt, or if ever they do, he’d play medic when the need arises. Thankfully, his first aid skills were put to the backseat and he was joined in on the fun when one of the twelve-year old campers aimed a water gun at him. He had no choice but to retaliate. With his wide hands and arm support, he grabbed a bunch of water balloons and aimed at anyone within proximity, creating an entirely new chaos between the kids and the other teachers, too.

He had ended the day soaked and sore from all the laughing and running around trying to avoid the kids aiming at him. Thankfully, you had made sure to pack him extra clothes to change into. “Just in case you get a little too fun and get soaked in sweat,” you had said, ignoring Shohei’s initial comments on not needing extra clothes since he was not technically sleeping over for the night. But proven to be always right, he made a mental note to get you something special as a way to thank you for being, well, the best.  

After he had changed into his comfy cotton pants and white shirt, he bid goodbye to everyone at camp, especially the kids he had made friends with. They hugged him and some even gave him DIY goodbye presents (one gave him a bracelet made out of plucked flowers and laced it around his wrist), a tall kid with glasses who must be around seven years old gave him his precious Snickers bar, almost melted, and the youngest girl of the bunch clung onto his leg and tried to stop him from leaving. These short but meaningful interactions touched Shohei that he almost felt bad for leaving. 

“Will you teach us again next summer camp, Teacher?” one kid had asked.

“Hmm. Maybe, we’ll see,” Shohei beamed, eyeing the other teachers in response. If not for the lead teachers and school principal, he would not have been able to cross the schoolgate and reach his car. He waved one last goodbye to the kids who stood behind the gates and then drove away. 

He couldn’t wait to go home to you and tell you about his day. 

You were in the kitchen when you heard Shohei’s Corolla park in the garage. You continued tending to the Tsuyu broth and soba noodles that you were saving up for a warm day like this. 

While Shohei was out for camp duties the entire day, you were able to finish the flower embroidery design you had been challenged with for over a week now. Being new to the craft, you had a slightly difficult time understanding the patterns in the first place, but once you got the hang of it, you were on a roll and without realizing it, you were already done. You regretted buying only one design thinking it would take you longer to complete it, and also considering that you were the type to abandon something when you feel overwhelmed or had just simply lost the fixation, just like the few hundred other abandoned projects you started this year. This time, however, you were so accomplished that you couldn’t wait for Shohei to come home and brag. 

Upon his arrival, Shohei sees you busy in the kitchen, humming to Adele. He put his bag on the countertop and went straight to you, your back facing him. He embraced you from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder and slightly shifted his weight against your body. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” You angled your face upwards to meet him and he planted a kiss straight to your lips. When you went back to what you were doing, he left kisses on the small spots on your neck and shoulder. 

“Hmm, I love soba. I was craving for this.” He murmured against your skin. He still had his arms wrapped around, waiting for you to finish and give him your full attention.

“Really? Didn’t I tell you that I’m a mind-reader?” you joked and turned the stove off and faced Shohei. 

“Yes and you are the best.” He did not waste another second and kissed you tastefully on the mouth. As soon as he got your attention, he made sure your tongue was preoccupied with his. 

You stayed like that for a few seconds. A slow summer day deserves an equally slow and hot makeout session like this. Shohei put both his hands behind your back and you had no choice but to push your body closer to him while you coiled your hands behind the nape of his neck, tugging a few strands of his thick hair.

“What’s gotten you so worked up today, love?” you asked when you separated. 

He pulled back, catching his breath and looked seriously at you. 

“Let’s start doing it, love.”

“Do what?”

“Kids. Babies. I want to put a baby on you right now.” He massaged your lower back and showered your neck with more kisses.

“So sudden?” You looked at Shohei with bewilderment. You weren’t angry or anything, just a little surprised that he had suddenly brought it up. You had always known to use oral and physical contraception ever since you started dating and like an unspoken promise, you made sure that your relationship would not bear anything both of you didn’t feel like committing to yet. But this was definitely something new. 

“I was just thinking… At camp, the kids loved playing with me… some even clung to me–like this–” he hugged you tightly in demonstration. “--and I almost choked up when I was driving away.”

“And…?”

“I played with kids the whole day, I realized that I really, really want to have kids.” He pouted.

In a way, Shohei had always been great with kids. You saw how he used to fawn over your neighbors’ kids and their tiny steps, how he’d wave to babies in strollers whenever you’d pass by them, smiling extra wide. 

“Like, I really, really, really do. We’ve been married for three years now. Don’t you think it’s time for us to get pregnant?”

You were silent the whole time, looking straight into Shohei’s face, and trying to see any hint of him joshing around but he was nothing but serious with his dead set eyes and determination.

“What are you thinking, love?” He asked, getting fidgety after seeing you were quiet for a while. 

“Are we even ready for kids? There are a lot of newer parents that get divorced after babies are born…” you trailed off. Shohei noticed your worry and decided to change the topic.

“I’m sorry, I won’t force it if you’re not comfortable.” he kissed your nose and pulled you into a tight hug. “The noodles look amazing! So much about my day, they can wait… What did you do all day without me?”

Dinner ensued and the pregnancy topic was never brought up again, much to your relief. Shohei was quite understanding and never the pushy type. He always made sure that when you both decide on anything, you were both in it, just like when he moved in with you after a year of dating, when you decided to get married a few months after, and then buying a house.

You felt no pressure whatsoever about creating a family with Shohei because he never pressured you or his family. You don’t know if you wanted kids at all. When you were single, you thought there was not a single good man left on earth but meeting Shohei had changed your mind. Maybe, with the right kind of man, it’d be possible to love and still be loved properly while having kids. So yes, maybe. Maybe one day, you’d want Shohei’s children but were waiting for the right time. You hoped maybe someday, bearing kids will not just be a reluctant maybe, but a definite, sure and unwavering yes. 

Not until Shohei’s sister came to town to visit a few days later and brought their two year old daughter in tow. Shohei was ecstatic. He had fallen in love with his niece the moment he met her. He’d carry her as much as he could when they visited, buying her presents for every occasion, sometimes even when there’s really nothing to celebrate at all.

This time, when Shohei had picked up his niece, Nora, from her trolley and into his arms, kissing her lightly on the cheek, cooing and swinging her back and forth along with their boisterous laughter ringing around the house, you felt something shifted. 

You felt the anxiety on your shoulders lift and leave your body, leaving you with an immense sensation of love and happiness. You sat at the dinner table watching Shohei play peekaboo with Nora while she sits on his lap, and couldn’t help but imagine Shohei carrying a baby–your offspring–while feeding her, or humming it to sleep. It sounds like a beautiful dream, doesn’t it? 

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

After they had left and the house was silent again, you cornered Shohei in the kitchen, who was loading the dishes in the dishwasher. He was humming a Cocomelon nursery rhyme which you assumed was the same song he had played on his ipad with Nora. 

“Shohei.” You tugged his arm and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Yes, love?” 

“Let’s do it.” 

“Do what now?” He said mindlessly, pulling his sleeves down and shrugged off the kitchen apron.

“Fuck a baby into me, I said.” You raised your voice, unsure where to look.

It took him a few seconds to understand but when it finally dawned on him, he wasted no time and carried you into his arms bridal style. 

When he pushed you onto the bed, kissing you hungrily, both of you still half-undressed, he suddenly pulled back and asked, “Wait, is this your new kink now? Seeing me with kids?”

“What, no.” Your hands busied on the buckle of Shohei’s belt and when that ordeal was done, had pulled his boxers down to touch him. Like a knee jerk reaction, his hips jerked forward to your hand. 

Definitely.

“Hmm, this is going to be a long night,” he whispered, biting at the garter of your underwear and pulling it down with his teeth. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Absolutely.

“I’ve never been so sure.” 

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and met Shohei’s lips, while he slowly entered you, both of you adjusting to the size and feeling. He started thrusting in and out of you hungrily, as if on a mission, determined to fill you to the brim. And you, on the brink of pleasure and chasing your high, you couldn’t help but moan Shohei’s name and said, yes, yes, yes, over and over. Like an assurance statement, like a promise.

This is my yes, unquestionably, a hundred times over.

[atarathegreat]

The Only One to Wound the King. Kyle "Gaz" Gerrick.

Since he was a young boy, Kyle had been handed everything he ever wanted. As a child, his mother demanded that Kyle get nothing but the best toys, the finest paints and the brightest colors. Kyle was a spoiled child, the very image of a kings son. As he grew older, himself and his father attributed all his finer things to being his mother's prerogative. She could only birth Kyle, as her body was far too fragile to even think about carrying another heir. As a result, the queen poured all her love and care into her son, making sure that he had only the best the world could offer him.

When he was but a young man, twelve or thirteen summers old, the king hired the best archers and swordsmen to train Kyle. If the bloodline were to prevail the one child heir, said heir would need to be extremely good at wielding and shooting.

Once a day training, studies, and learning to fend for himself if the need arose became Kyle's new life. Toys were packed away and his childish garb was replaced with fine silken cloth and weaponry from the greatest smiths in the kingdom. And on the Gods' Day, Kyle would stand at the front of the church beside his mother with his head held high. He was the prince of the kingdom, and many of the towns' women and young ladies were eager to greet him in the hopes of being future suitors. Still, his mother wanted only the best for her only child and turned each of the women away.

It wasn't until Kyle's twenty-sixth summer of breath, that he met the sweet little maid. She had been kept in the lower kitchens, meant only to prepare food and wash linens. She was the daughter of the head maid, a strong old woman who kept the other staff in line. The maids' mother was the best at caring for the family, and perhaps that was why his mother didn't mind them walking around freely and doing their tasks as needed. Everything was neat and tidy, taken care of before the sun was at its highest.

Kyle wanted to see more of the little maid, requested her for everything, and even demanded she be his personal help. Even when he was training, the sweet little mistress was to be with him. Kyle did more during his training and studies, trying to show off as much as possible to the maid. He wanted her to think he was amazing, to look at him with the sparkle all the village women did. As if he were sent to her from the Gods' very hands.

"Did you enjoy watching today?" Kyle stood slightly hunched so her gentle hands could pat and wipe away the sweat on his brow, "I feel as if my form is improving, even more so from how it usually is." It didn't escape him that maybe she was talking to him because it was her job, but he didn't care, so long as he got to hear her sweet voice.

Her hair, typically in a tightly woven braid, was loosely waving about her shoulders, like leaves on the wind the season before his birth. "You should hold your elbows a tilt higher, as your teacher instructs you. Otherwise, you did beautifully, your majesty." Kyle would never tire of her praise, or the way her soft eyes were pinpoint trained on whatever her hands were doing. Everything about this maiden was... enthralling. Kyle didn't want her to be away for any reason.

Perhaps that's why he grew so angry when her father stood at the foot of the throne, asking permission to marry her off to a rich family more west of the kingdom. "Absolutely not!" Kyle protested before the king, "She is my help, and she shall stay where she belongs! Beside me!"

Kyle was, after all, a spoiled child from birth. He didn't care what he had to do to get his way, but there would be no mention of the little maid leaving the castle. She was Kyle's, not some rich pricks. What did this stranger have that Kyle couldn't get? He was the kings son, for the grace of the gods, he was the next ruler of the kingdom! She would be much happier with him than some acolyte.

The king, as ashamed as he was, couldn't bring himself to deny his son's outburst. "Apologies, but she is a much valued member of our castle, and would serve a greater purpose in these walls." Each word was like a stone in the father's gut. His daughter was stuck being a maid.

"I did." Kyle stared into her eyes, taking in the smallest flecks of color, the way her pupils seemed to shrink at his admission. Had she expected him to deny it? He wouldn't. Not ever. She was his.

Kyle was upset all day about the acquisition, short and irritable, even with his precious helper. It wasn't until she was helping him prepare for bed that she spoke. "I know it was you who denied my marriage..." her hands remained gentle, but Kyle didn't miss the subtle anger. Like a smooth stone under the river, slimy and waiting for you to take a wrong step and fall.

Kyle would prove it.

Rough, calloused hands wrapped around her small wrists, pulling her closer to him, "I denied it because you belong with me. At my side, at my heels, as mine. No one else will have you so long as I have a say."

Kyle wouldn't let her reply, didn't want to hear whatever possible protest she would give. He pressed her against the stone wall, his lips attacking hers to keep her silent. Kyle wasn't sure his heart could take a protest from the beautiful maiden. The need in his stomach burned like fire, and her words could douse it easily. There was no way he could just let it happen. "Let me show you that you belong next to me." Kyle whispered as his hands tugged on the simple buttons down the back of her dress. His very soul wanted to pepper her soft skin in the appreciation she deserves for being so loyal, so helpful, and so beautiful.

Before the young lady could try to deny the prince, she was bare to his eyes. Every inch of her silky skin gracing Kyle's eyes, the golden blood he knew ran through her precarious veins, and the very moonlight that was reflected in her eyes. It was as if Kyle were a wizard, and he cast a spell to know her very thoughts. "We cannot!" The young woman pushed on his chest, "I can never have a husband if you continue!"

"I will be your husband! You shall be my queen and we will rule this kingdom! Together! You will be mine!" Kyle yelled, his body crowding her against the stones, as if he wanted her to only survive on the air from his lungs. "You will be my queen, your soul and body and mind will be mine, all of you will be mine." Kyle trailed firm and warm kisses down the space of her neck and shoulder, down past her collarbone, "You will bear my children, raise them with a smile. And I will do everything in my power to provide, protect, and be there for you. I will make sure your smile is genuine, I will sacrifice myself for your very health."

Kyle sat on his knees before the short female, hands clinging to her plush thighs, "Tell me yes. Say you will be the kingdoms princess, say you will be my queen and the mother of my children. Say I can have you now and until my last breath." He was begging, pleading for her to agree. Of course, if she said no, Kyle would let her collect her dress and cover herself. He would let her leave. But he desperately needed her to agree, needed the maiden to be his.

She was silent. It was thick, worrying silence that had Kyle begging with his eyes for her to nod or grab his face or anything he could take as a yes.

"I do not want to be some breed mare." Her voice was small and whispered. Kyle knew that his offer was that of a lifetime. It was rare that a woman became queen in such a way. And to go from maid to queen was like the gods granting every wish at once. But Kyle understood her hesitancy, "You will be a woman first, then a mother, then a queen. I will not keep you pregnant your whole life, and you carry more importance than that in my heart."

"And if I say yes?"

"Then I will take you now, we will have our pleasures and by the end of Gods' day we will be wed. There will be a festival in your honor, your family paid for, and given the rest of their years in ease. I will make sure you wear only the finest dresses, jewelry, and hair accessories. No one will ever harm you." Kyle scooted closer, his mouth and nose dangerously close to her core, "Tell me yes, and I'll make sure that you never feel alone or unwanted. You will be my highest priority, my greatest release, my only love. Just tell me yes."

Her hands, like carefully placed threads in the finest embroidery, threaded under his chin, "And you will hold to these promises?" Gods above, how Kyle loved her touch and voice, the way she looked at him made him ache to feel her. "Every last letter. And if I falter, you will remind me, and I will fix my mistake."

"Then I shall agree to be yours."

Each word had hardly left her lips before Kyle pressed chaste kisses to her core. He needed to prove first and foremost that her pleasure was his priority. Each whispered gasp and plea for just a little more caused his trousers to tighten, but Kyle paid it no attention. "You taste heavenly, like the gods nectar." Kyle used his fingers to spread her delicious cunt open, watching as the nerves pulsed gently under his stare, "Like the greatest honey the earth has to offer me. And you're all mine."

There was a form of gentleness to his hungry movements. The tip of his nose pressed to her sensitive clit, rubbing her firmly as he used his tongue to devour everything he could. "I can't... I can't keep standing, your majesty." As if she couldn't sound any more perfect, her whimpered pants made Kyle melt. He picked her up, moving her to his bed of the finest furs and wool pillows, crawling down to sate his craving of her pussy. She was too delectable to leave alone, and from the new angle, Kyle could now taste more. He stuck his tongue into her depths, moaning as the taste washed over his taste buds. Her pitiful cry of pleasure made Kyle grind his hardened cock against the furs, needing some type of sensation.

"May I have you?" Kyle panted as he placed kisses all over her thigh and lower lips, "May I take you completely?"

"You may." Gods above her voice was so needy and pleading, Kyle couldn't take it anymore. He ripped his shirt, throwing the rags to the floor before kicking his trousers from his legs. "I want to make you feel like you have met the Gods." Kyle forced three of his fingers inside her tight cunt, wiggling them enough to make her squirm and whine, beautiful eyes rolled back as she moaned. His fingers were thoroughly coated with her juices when he pulled them free from her clutch. He had to fight the urge to lick his fingers clean, and stroked his cock to make it slick. "It won't be easy, my love, but I'll be gentle." Kyle flicked the tip of his dick against her clit, biting his lip at the way she jolted and gasped.

She was so tight, squeezing his shaft as he worked his way in. Shallow, slow thrusts, each one deeper than the last until he was finally buried with his balls against her ass cheeks. "You feel amazing, love. Like the greatest silk." Her body clenched around Kyle's cock at his words, a gentle and deep breath giving away her own arousal. Kyle started with firm thrusts, grunting as his tip hit the farthest spongy spot in her hole. "Oh, Gods." The little maid lifted her legs to wrap them around Kyle, her always busy hands gripping his shoulders.

Kyle moved harder, closing his eyes to focus on how amazing she felt around him. Squishy and tight, warm, practically begging for his seed to paint her soft walls. "Feels so soft..." Kyle grunted, letting his mind trail to his primal desires, "I want to mold you to me, love. Want to make it so you can only fit me."

The pleading cries of Kyle's new bride only egged him on, making him move harder and faster. He wanted to hear her cry out his name and wanted her to keep clawing up his back and shoulders. "I want to possess you." Kyle clung to her as he slammed his hips against hers, "I need you."

"T- too much!" His precious maiden dug her nails into his skin, drawing blood from the skin as her orgasm made her shake. Kyle was so close behind her, his cock throbbing as he slammed harder into her, "Gonna make you mine!" He yanked her into a hungry kiss, gnashing his teeth against hers as he treated himself to her tongue and teeth. The fire in his gut exploded, traveling down his shaft until he was spraying into her greedy hole, filling her with his cum.

"You will forever be known as the only being on the realm to ever make me bleed, make me beg." Kyle panted, his forehead against hers as he spoke, "You will be the only queen to have her king on his knees for her."

[hheaven-sentt]

willow and wisteria

summary: he's the willow, you're the wisteria | leon kennedy x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: movie title mentions (had to pull out the pop culture stops for this one), yearning, a certain nostalgia for Blockbuster and VHS rentals

notes: has this been sitting on my laptop for two weeks? yes. do I want to talk about that? no. also, i am battling a sinus infection that spread to my lungs? and let me just say: sinus infection's got hands | ao3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shoulder to shoulder on the couch, you wonder how you got to this point. He’s stiff beside you as the credits roll on some old western movie you don’t remember the name of. You can see him in your peripheral, jaw clenched like he’s fighting to keep words in, skin naturally smoother than you could ever get it with products, staring straight ahead like he’s looking for his own name on the screen. He’s wearing a sweatshirt you’ve never seen before; it looks so soft, and you want nothing more than to crawl into it.

His voice pulls you from your thoughts. “How many is that?”

You turn your head a bit and blink at him. “Twelve, I think,”

“I think I’ve seen enough westerns to last me a lifetime,” he teases lightly. “I get to pick next time,”

This is what you do. It’s a moment of reprieve for each of you. In total, you’ve watched sixteen dramas, fourteen comedies, six romances, and twelve westerns. Movies are easy. There’s no expectations, not like there would be if you went out to dinner or to a bar. You’re not supposed to talk during movies, although you and Leon have never really been good about that. You don’t know his middle name or his favorite color, but you know that he hates Die Hard and he had a crush on Molly Ringwald as a kid. So, yes, you talk during the movies, but never about the things that would let you peel back the curtain.

You like it that way. There’s no fear of saying the wrong thing or unloading baggage that’s been packed away for decades. It’s easy this way, and you like easy.

“I’m sure the guy at Blockbuster is eagerly awaiting your decision,” you grin. Leon rolls his eyes.

“Are you going to bring that up every time I pick a movie?” he asks, looking at you finally. You see something in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

You shrug. “Probably. I’ve never seen a man more excited to talk about Alien,”

Leon cringes. “To be fair, it was a good movie,”

“I don’t know if it was ask-for-your-number-good, though,” you laugh. “Besides, I bring it up so that you don’t get any ideas about ditching me as your movie buddy,”

“I can’t imagine that we’d watch a ton of movies,” Leon says. Immediately, his cheeks go pink, and you can’t resist the laughter bubbling in your chest. It’s bright and wide, filling up the entire room. You’re wheezing before you know it.

“Hey, man, do whatever you want,” you say between giggles. “Just as long as you watch movies with me,”

Playfully, he knocks his shoulder into yours. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,”

You like when Leon grins. It’s more than a regular smile. It takes up most of his face, eating away at his cheeks and his sorrow, even if only for a moment. He carries something that he won’t share, and you like when he lets go of it for a while. There is peace in the way he laughs, and you prefer to savor it.

“Help me clean up before you head out?” you ask. Sometimes, you try to make him overstay his welcome. Sometimes, you never want him to leave. Sometimes, you try to con him into three or four movies in one night, hoping that he’ll choose to crash on your couch rather than brave the D.C traffic.

He nods, and begins to grab bowls and cups off your coffee table. There’s never much of a mess, but he always helps when you ask. Wordlessly, you file in and out of the kitchen until there’s no evidence that he was here at all. He gathers his things–his keys and geriatric phone–from the table next to the door and slips on his shoes. There’s a weight in your stomach that you wish would go away.

“Same time next week?” he asks. You smile.

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease. “And don’t stop by the video store without me,”

“I can’t risk going back in there alone,” he says, feigning seriousness.

You can’t help but notice the way he lingers in the entry. You stare at him as you hear a crack of thunder rolling through the sky. You gnaw on your lower lip.

Before you can stop yourself, you say, “If you’d rather not face the storm, my couch is pretty comfy and I make a mean cup of coffee in the morning,”

He looks at you for a moment, like he didn’t fully understand what you said, and then he slips his shoes back off. Silently, he pulls his keys back out of his pocket and returns them to their place on the table.

“Just so you know,” he says. “I drink it black,”

You roll your eyes. “Of course you do,”

You half expect the next few minutes to be awkward, but they aren’t. Leon just settles back into his spot on the couch, leant back against the cushions behind him like he’s supposed to have been there all along. You have to fight the curl threatening to upturn your lips. You return to him, like you always do, settling down beside him with room to spare.

“What’s next on the list?” he asks. His hands are on his chest, just below his sternum, fingers interlaced. You notice that his eyes have slipped closed.

“I was thinking Titanic,” you muse, leaning your head against the cushions. You hadn’t realized how tired you really were. “It’s a classic,”

“Little boring for my taste,” he says. You smile.

“A whole boat sinks during the last, like, hour of the movie,” you tease, leaning over to shove him playfully. “How is that boring?”

He shrugs, smiling and opening one eye to peek at you. You feel a chill snake its way down your spine. “The other two thirds cancel out the boat sinking,”

“Fair,” you note. You can’t find anything else to say, even if you want to. He looks so peaceful there, loose on your couch and in your space. He chose to stay. He chose to be around you. Sometimes, it makes you nervous.

Silence stretches between you, but it doesn’t amplify the nerves. It settles them, honestly. You find yourself so comfortable here, an arm’s length away from him but somehow still wrapped in his warmth. He eases your tensions, dampens the sounds from outside. What a pleasant world it would be if he were here all the time. Your eyelids droop as you watch him. His breathing is so steady, you’d think he’d fallen asleep. But he twitches every now and then to tell you he’s still awake.

“You’re really gonna make me coffee tomorrow?” he asks. His voice is low and smooth. It makes you smile.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “It’s the least I can do for holding you captive,”

He laughs, weak and wonderful as if he’s on the edge of sleep. “You’re not holding me captive. There’s hurricane force winds out there,”

You grin, opening your eyes to look at him. You find him already watching you. Blush creeps over his features. You hold his stare, wondering what he’s thinking.

“You make me nervous,” you whisper. You’re not sure he even hears you. He seems to be calculating his words, or maybe his escape route.

Instead, he furrows his brow. “I hope it’s a good kind of nervous,” he whispers back. Your lips form a line as you nod.

The silence returns, but you keep watching him. He’s pretty like this, haloed by the lightning that flashes in the window every few seconds. You fight the urge to reach out and trace his features. You can imagine the way his skin would feel against yours, the sloped angle of his nose, the creases near his eyes.

You want to jump out of your skin when he turns to consider you more. There’s a half smile hung on his lips. Then, he’s reaching out to grab your hand. It’s tentative, like a young boy might slowly wrap his fingers around a girl’s for the very first time. It’s simple, it’s easy; you like easy. His hands are much warmer than yours, though you’re not sure how, considering you feel like every inch of you has been consumed by flames. You worry that he can see the sweat beginning to bead along your hairline. You swallow thickly, praying to whoever might listen that you don’t screw this up.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask. Your voice is low, barely above a whisper like you’re children trading secrets when you’re meant to be asleep.

He smiles. “Green,” he says. “Like a forest just before dusk,”

Of course it would be green. You feel a flash of embarrassment for not having asked earlier. The amount of green things you could shower him would last a lifetime. You think back to every green item you’ve ever seen, every natural green you’ve had the pleasure of witnessing,  and wonder how you’d never thought of it before. Now, when the tree outside your window raps against the panes, you’ll think of him. You’ll think of him when you use the crockpot your mother gifted you when you moved out. You’ll see him in the murky depths of a lake, or the vibrant hue of your favorite pair of shoes.

“Mine’s purple,” you reply. “Like wisteria,”

His face sours for a moment. “The stuff that hangs off willow trees?”

You grin and nod. “Exactly like that,”

At this, he laces your fingers together with more confidence. You feel your heart stutter. You would be content to die like this. In this moment, you’d make him a hundred cups of coffee, give him a thousand green hued things, and look for willow trees where you can.

[meshla-cyarika]

How many ARCS does it take to crush a natborn?

Pairing: Fives x M!reader, Echo x M!reader

Word count: 1,022

Tags/warnings: none. Its complete fluff.

Summary: you love cuddling your boys, you love waking up in their arms even more. The only problem is, you can't breathe.

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You've gotten used to naturally waking up to Naboo's only sun streaming through the blinds of your bedroom window. What you haven't gotten used to is waking up unable to breathe.

Well, you can breathe, but it's a slight struggle with two former ARC troopers sprawled out ontop of you. Echo is on your left (nearest to the window) with one leg thrown over your waist and an arm and his head resting on your bare chest. You always found it uncomfortable to sleep with a shirt on, especially when under the covers. Meanwhile, Fives practically has his entire body laying on you, limbs sprawled everywhere and his face is squeezed into the crook of your neck.

You turn your head and glare at all the space on their sides of the king sized bed you had brought to avoid situations like this. That being said, you don't hate cuddling. Quite the opposite, actually. After being forcibly seperated all the time during the war, none of you give up an opportunity for physical contact. You sigh and wrap your arms around them both, knowing better than to wake them up. Disturbing your Dominos when they're perfectly content snuggled up to you would be a death sentence.

A smile breaks out on your face when you think about how you had met. It had been a big victory for the 501st and they were granted shore leave for five days. 79s was ram packed with boys in blue so much so that there were hardly any natborns in there, but you'd managed to weasel your way in. You were sat at the bar, nursing a Corellian whiskey, when a certain ARC with a numbered tattoo started chatting you up and a sheepish man with a hand print on his chest plate stood next to him. It feels like yesterday that Fives had said those twelve corny words to you. "Hey, baby, you got a name, or can I call you mine?"  A month later, you were dating the most handsome men the galaxy had ever seen and you've been together ever since.

You're snapped back to reality, when Fives stirs in his sleep. You think he's gonna wake up and finally release you from his chokehold, but he stays sound asleep and somehow manages to put even more weight on your ribs. The Domino twins, along with many other clones, lost a bit of muscle after the end of the war, but, by the Maker, they were still heavy. It's been four years since the end of the Clone Wars. General Kenobi defeated General Grievous on Utapau, General Skywalker brought Count Dooku into custody, Commander Tano brought Maul into custody and Chancellor Palpatine was discovered to be the mastermind behind this war and was killed by the Jedi Council. It took half a year for the discussion of clone equal rights in the Senate, which they were granted at the end of that year. It took two years for the Republic to create a suppressant for the clones' rapid aging, which managed to slow it down to natural human aging.

The loyal soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic are free men.

You silently thank the Maker, when you notice the telltale signs of them starting to wake up - small twitches and grumbles. When Fives wakes slowly, he tends to stretch a bit like a loth cat. He yawns and does this little squeak that you don't dare mention, but it makes you smile anyway. After he stretches, he goes limp and boneless for a moment as his brain catches up to reality. Echo, however, tends to go from asleep to awake very smoothly. He doesn’t jerk awake as often anymore, but it’s a near thing. His body stays lax for the most part, but he blinks awake and takes just a second or two to get his bearings. Some mornings, he’ll lay with you for a little longer than usual, tucking his face up close to yours until you're both ready to get up.

They're absolutely adorable in their own ways.

You remain still when your partners awake. Fives sits up to stretch his whole body, before dumping his weight back ontop of you, making a grunt fall past your lips as he slightly knocks the air from your lungs. Echo blinks awake, tucks himself closer to you and breathes deeply. A luxury you can't perform yourself.

"Morning." Fives always has the deepest morning voice.

"Morning." You reply back. "Can you both breathe?"

A pair of concerned frowns meet your gaze, but you keep your expression innocent.

"Yeah?" Echo eventually answers.

"Well, I can't." You put it bluntly. "Shift."

You haven't seen them move so quick this early in the morning for years, as they scramble to their sides of the bed. You take a few deep breaths and, Maker, oxygen has never felt so good.

"You okay?" Fives looks down at you with furrowed brows. You nod tiredly and place a kiss to his forehead, causing his expression to calm.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You mumble, turning to kiss Echo's forehead aswell. "You have all that space and you still decide to crush me." You give them a pointed stare.

"Old habits die hard, cyar'ika." Fives smirks, wrapping his arms back around you, but making sure to give you more breathing room this time.

"We're sorry, cyare." A light blush coats Echo's face, as he sheepishly places a kiss to your cheek.

"It's not your fault." You reassure him, running a hand through his hair. "It's because of how many nights we all had to sleep in those regulation bunks that could hardly even fit one person in."

"Except this time, Echo isn't falling on his ass every five minutes." Fives sniggers.

You close your eyes with a smile, as you listen to them bicker about old times. Are you going to wake up with your airway being crushed again? Definitely. But you have your boys right where you want them, maybe breathing is acceptable to give up if it means you get to hold them as close as possible.