#but i promise i will once i’m back home

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Twenty

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse reader, feelings of fear and panic, PTSD, references to domestic violence. Trauma, blood. Flashbacks. Dubious ethics and morality, dark content.

“Are ye comin’ inside?”

“I need a minute.” He needs more than a minute. He needs days, weeks. Needs to wind back the clock and slam it into the ground, over and over again, until the springs and hands and tiny numbers splinter into pieces.

Failure. He failed. They failed.

They failed you.

“Wait, go back.” The video pauses and rolls backward, all the way until Simon tells Kate to stop it when you step out of the elevator. “What’s in her hand?” 

“Dinnae,” Johnny’s nose is practically touching the screen. 

“The recording is pretty low quality; I’ve tried enhancing it with no luck.” Kate’s voice crackles through the speakers from the other side of the laptop, the other side of the world. This is the first time they’ve managed to get a hold of her in weeks, and even now, the connection is half static. 

“Looks like a piece of paper, or a picture?” Johnny murmurs, leaning back. 

“This is just before she bolts,” the playback continues, and they watch as you walk down the hall, bright smile fading when you reach the corner. “She’s here for a minute and then runs…” Simon is glued to the screen, forward on his haunches, and Johnny rubs his back, kneading his knuckles into that ever-present knot in his shoulder. He watches your head turn, your back stiffen, and Johnny sucks in a breath. 

Kate nods the confirmation. She’s already put the puzzle together. 

Graves.

You’re reacting to Graves, seeing Graves. Entire demeanor shifting, changing from their sweet, smart girl with newfound confidence, to a deer, shocked and startled, running from a scope. 

Graves.

It’s simple math. Plain as day. You take one look at where he’s come around the corner, running his mouth, chewing that fucking gum, and split. 

It’s Graves. 

And it all makes sense. 

“-you don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t understand. He’s chased me across the world, he always finds me, no matter what, no matter what I do”

“He’s in the military. Some sort of security work, department of defense, or something. He never really talked about it.”

“He always finds me.” 

“He has resources. Has followed me across the globe more than once. My only saving grace is that when he has to work, he has to work, and it’s usually for long chunks of time.”

“I’m originally from Texas.” 

Texas. Texas. Texas. 

There was a conversation, months ago, that slipped through Simon’s fingers. A wisp of a suspicion, one pushed away by doubt, by disbelief.  

Not possible. A coincidence. 

He was wrong, about being wrong. He was right, all along.

Johnny nearly flips the table before Simon urges him back down. “Where… where does she go after this?” 

“She gets the car,” Simon answers, timeline clicking into place, “she borrows that gits car, comes home, packs a bag, and runs.” Johnny’s hands are shaking, fingers white against his knees. 

They’ll kill him. He’ll paint the walls with Phillip’s blood. They’ll do what should have done in the first place. 

He should have protected you, should have seen it all clearly. Should have applied more pressure and made you crack, if only for your own safety. 

He failed. 

They failed. 

“That piece o’ shite, I’ll-“ 

“Kill him.” Simon finishes simply, and they exchange a look. A promise without words. Simon will shatter his skull between his palms if he has to. 

Johnny nods. The gears are already turning. Are they so different from a man who has stopped at nothing to drag you back to him? 

No. 

They'd burn the world for you, to protect you, to bring you home to them. 

Kate clears her throat. “There’s more.” More? “I was checking some records, looking at her last clock out, when the last paycheck was paid out and I pulled her personal information, her medical chart.” Kate’s tone is wary, hesitant, and Johnny straightens. 

“What is it?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, unsure trepidation that’s so unlike Kate the hair on the back of Simon’s neck stands up. 

“Kate��” 

“She’s pregnant.” You could hear a pin drop. Johnny’s rage turns to panic, and an ocean of blood rushes in Simon’s ears. 

“She’s- she’s what?” 

“She’s pregnant. By now, she’s probably twenty weeks, maybe? I’m not sure. I don’t know much about those things, but her chart notes say both of them are… were in good health. Low risk.” 

“Twenty weeks,” Johnny echoes, faraway look in his eyes. 

A baby. You’re pregnant. 

Pregnant. Pregnant and alone, and scared. Running away.  

From them. 

Simon’s trying to wrap his head around it, but he can’t. The information doesn’t fit. It doesn’t make sense. 

“If she’s twenty weeks, then she’s been pregnant since before she left.” Johnny’s talking to himself at this point, because Simon can’t force his mouth to make words. “Why keep it a secret?” Kate is telling them something about index hits and cameras, but it all amounts to nothing after you board the train, and Simon still fails to make a sound. 

And then, she piles it on. 

“Graves is in the wind.” Simon’s heart stops like he’s been struck by lightning, electricity jolting him alive. 

“How?” 

“He went offline. No traceable activity in the last week or so. Last known location was Texas. After that, I’m not sure. Yet.”

‘He can’t be in the wind,” Johnny whisper shouts, all too aware of Penny upstairs, napping. “We need to know where he is. Now.” 

“I’m doing all I can. He has resources too, you know. A lot of them.” The screen goes black for a second, before she reappears, lips pressed into a grim line. “I have to go. I’ll keep you updated. Sorry guys.”

They can only nod. 

It’s clear as day, what happened now. How you saw them in the hallway, how you drew the conclusion, one that seemed so painfully obvious, connected the dots that appeared in your mind, stringing together bits and pieces until it all made sense.

He knows what will have to happen now. They both do. 

Simon presses his forehead to Johnny’s. “We’ll find her.” 

“An’ bring her home.” 

“No matter what.” 

The rest is left unsaid. 

You’re having a dream.

It’s a lovely one, more of a memory than anything else, but a dream, nonetheless.

“This still feels like a bad idea.” 

“Isnae, ye’ll do great bun. Jus’ the ‘hawk now.” You’ve already finished the sides of his head, which were easy enough, but using actual scissors to cut hair is well outside your wheelhouse. 

“What if I mess it up?” 

“It’s jus’ hair, pretty girl. It grows.” 

“How’s it going out here?” Simon leans out the sliding door, Penny in his arms, and you try to plead with him with wide, nervous eyes. He chuckles. “Looks good so far.” 

“See?” Johnny smiles, one of the big ones that stretches his whole face and makes your knees weak. Penny loves them too, and she claps her hands together, giggling. 

“But… I don’t… I’m going to mess it up.” Johnny stands, warm hands on your arms. 

“Ye could shave me bald and wouldnae mess it up, bun.” You nod, but the acid, noxious taste of worry is still there on your tongue. 

“I just… I…” you’re starting to shake a little, fingers squeezing together. He tugs you into his chest, kisses your temple. 

“Ye’re alright.” 

“I know.” You do know. You’re safe. They’d never hurt you, never betray your trust or even yell at you, but muscle memory doesn’t forget. “I know, I’m sorry.” 

“Ye dinnae have to be sorry.” 

“It’s okay, bunny.” Simon murmurs, but it’s not. 

Is this how you’ll spend your whole life? Afraid? Shaking? 

No. 

Not anymore. 

“If I ruin his hair… it’s not my fault.” Simon chuckles. 

“We’ll blame him.” You turn back to Johnny and put your hands on his shoulders, taking a deep breath, surveying the mop of unruly brown strands, and he covers one of yours with his own. 

“It’s okay. If ye-“ 

“No, I can. I can do it.” You don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s just a hair cut, for crying out loud, but for some reason it feels like plunging into the deep end of a pool. “Okay,” you breathe, making the first snip. He nods encouragingly and you roll your shoulders. 

“See? Not so bad?” 

“Not so bad.” You cut again and again, trying to manage it all into a proper length, shaping as best you can. 

Each snip, something grows. Your hands tremble a little less, your jaw unclenches, lips flexing upward into your cheeks. You breathe deeper. 

When Johnny turns around, he doesn’t care about his hair, or the slightly uneven chunks, or the fresh clippings on his shirt. 

He cups your face, kissing you before pulling away to rub his thumb across your cheek. 

“There she is.” 

Spring rain. There’s nothing like it.

It washes away the gloom of winter. It’s the turning of a page, the spine of a brand-new book snapped open with a splintering crack. Cabin fever becomes walks in the park, lunches and coffees outside, hanging out on balconies and patios.

Dead things turned to soil now sprouting new life.

Like you, you guess.

You’ve been dead before. If someone looked really closely, they could see it in your eyes. The grey of decay, the separation of iris and pupil. Dead and brought back not quite right, every time. Sally, stitched together incorrectly, the wrong pieces of patchwork, poorly aligned.

Every time he ripped another piece of you away, you found a different one, one less like you, to put in its place.

Every time, until you weren’t you at all. Until you were a girl in a mirror. Until you were a ghost.

It makes sense that you don’t know yourself now, haven’t known for years. On the run, there’s not a lot of time to stop and consider things like that, those pieces. Coffee or tea? Chocolate cake or vanilla? Do you like snow? Do you like the beach? 

Do you like yourself? 

You could have had these answers, you think. Could have learned these things, if it hadn’t turned out the way it did. If Simon and Johnny hadn’t turned out to be a hydra, mouths open, waiting to devour you.

Sunbeam kicks. They nail you in the bladder, and you wince, rubbing over the crest of your belly. “You’re killing me, you know that?” You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, every day. The aches and pains are never ending, your back and hips screaming by the end of a shift. You can’t sleep, the heartburn makes it hard to eat, you’re never comfortable.

The whole time, you curse them, Simon and Johnny.

Their fault, it’s their fault.

And yours too. 

But no matter how tired, how sore, how cranky you are, you can’t bring yourself to regret it, and in your dreams, it’s like all the bad, all the awful betrayal didn’t even happen. You dream of a family with them, Penny holding her little sibling, the five you together. It’s all been buried in your mind, too deep and nearly impossible to dig out. The visions of them, the longing, the good memories. You’re infested with them.

You didn’t want this. You wanted them, you wanted it all, and that might be the hardest thing about it. You weren’t given a choice, this decision was made for you, taken from you, just like almost everything else.

Except little sunbeam. You wanted them, chose them, will choose them, over and over, forever, keep them safe, make sure they know they’re loved.

No matter what. 

It’s the train, always the train.

Not the long rail train, the commuter train. The one that takes you to and from work, the one that’s sometimes-standing room only, though most people offer you their seat, which is surprisingly kind, compared to where you’re from.

Regardless, you feel the gaze on the train, and no matter how hard you scan, dissect, watch the people around you, there’s nothing. All three faces, three sets of eyes, three profiles, are never anywhere to be seen.

It’s overwhelming, unsettling. The stress of this prickling unease combined with the stress and physical strain of your job is taking its toll on both you and Sunbeam, as the midwife likes to remind you.

Take it easy, take some time off, try to relax. Stay hydrated, eat well.

Yeah… okay.

You rub your belly anxiously, tugging your hood farther over your head, trying to look around without being so obvious.

“Excuse me?” You jolt, startled by a man standing at your elbow, pointing to a vacant spot on a bench. “Would you like my seat?” His smile is subtle, matching an encouraging but not overly intrusive demeanor.

“Sure, thank you so much.” He nods, stepping to the side, into the space between the seat and the divider, close to the door. You try to swing your backpack in front of you, but it gets caught, and he snags it before it falls. “Sorry, thanks.”

“Of course, no problem.” You give him another glance. Really handsome, rich brown eyes you could get lost in. He’s got a baseball cap on, but it’s not pulled down over his face like your hood, he’s not trying to hide. “I’ll move when your stop comes up.”

“Okay, it’s not for a while so, no worries.” He might be kind, but he’s still a stranger, and you’re not going to divulge anything specific. Stranger danger. 

Not everyone is a threat but… 

“How far along are you?” You blink.

“Uh, about twenty-five weeks, give or take a few days.” He nods.

“My wife is due next week; it’s been a rollercoaster.”

“Yeah, it’s not the easiest.” You laugh, a little apprehensive, but also, a little glad, secretly, to have a casual conversation with someone. He sticks his hand out.

“I’m Kyle.” Your tongue rolls with the practiced name you’ve memorized, the one you’ve drilled into yourself over and over again. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” The next stop is announced, and he moves gracefully, reaching for his bag and tugging it over his shoulder, barely giving you a second glance.

“This is me, have a good day.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t look over his shoulder at you when he’s getting off, doesn’t watch you through the window from the platform. He’s completely uninterested, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

The box is delivered on a Tuesday.

The Scottish government gives you almost everything you need. Clothes, thermometers, baby books, a changing mat, a mattress, a sheet, a blanket, the list goes on. The box even doubles as a bassinet.

You cry over it. Rifling through everything, tears drip down your cheeks and you bury your face in your hands. You didn’t get to share an ultrasound with anyone, or have a shower, or hold someone’s hand to your belly as sunbeam kicked, but there’s this. A box full of baby stuff, a box that says no matter how hard it is, you and sunbeam will have a good start. Even Sunbeam’s room is halfway sorted at this point, crib set up, dresser half stocked with clothes, collection of diapers and burp cloths and bottles starting to pile up in various places in their room. You’ve made it comfortable, slowly, mix matched furniture and all.

Every day feels like a year, but as each one passes, you slowly adjust to a new normal, a new life. Something you made, again, from scratch, for yourself, your survival.

And now, for Sunbeam.

One day, maybe it will feel like home.

You really need to stop buying so much crap at the store.

You practically have to drag your grocery loot into the elevator, bags overflowing with fruit, vegetables, cans of formula. Random cleaning products, stuff for baby proofing, a new candle.

Apparently, some call this nesting. You just call it annoying.

You lean against the wall and close your eyes for a moment, shifting your weight to alleviate the pressure on your spine.

Thirty weeks.

Ten weeks left.

Ten weeks left. It’s wild to even think about, to even say to yourself, or out loud. You’re going to be a mom in ten weeks. Going to have a whole human depending on you for every single thing, in ten weeks.

You’ll be alone, with a newborn, in ten weeks.

Alone.

It still aches. Stings. Salt in the wound-

Lit end of a cigarette against your skin.

You instinctively cup your belly, thumb rubbing over where one of your burn scars has been stretched by Sunbeam, and shiver.

You’re fine. You’re safe. Get it together.

“We’re home!” You announce to no one, no one except Gus the goldfish who’s swimming circles around his bowl. You got him two weeks ago on an impulse, following a pathetic, sad desire all the way to the pet store.

It’d be nice to have something to come home to. 

You tap a few flakes into the water and watch him gobble them up, oddly soothed by his presence in the flat.

This is how far you’ve fallen. Taking comfort in a damn goldfish.

You blow out a breath and fall onto the couch, swinging your legs up onto the cushions, dragging the pillows under your ankles, or what used to be your ankles. They’re more like overstuffed sausages now, tops of your sneakers cutting into your skin. Every chance you get, you’re finding places to sit at work, caught yourself leaning most of your weight on your patient’s beds, more than once. Thankfully, your coworkers are overwhelmingly understanding.

And when you come home, you do this. Collapse on the couch. Talk to a goldfish, or Sunbeam, or both.

The oddest trio: Mom, baby, goldfish.

You manage to limit yourself to three bites of ice cream before putting the carton away in the freezer. You’re supposed to be watching your sugar intake, apparently, not because you’re at risk for gestational diabetes, but because Sunbeam is already projected to be on the bigger side.

You look mournfully at container, spoon still in hand.

One more. What’s it going to hurt? One more bite isn’t going to turn Sunbeam into a giant, it’s-

Knuckles rap against your door.

Your blood goes cold, colder than ice, and you instinctively find the floor, crouching by the fridge, using it to shield yourself, keeping away from the door’s direct line of sight.

The knocking gets louder.

Someone’s saying something on the other side of the door, but you can’t hear it over the buzzing, beeping sound in your ears.

How. 

How? How did it happen so fast? Where did you fuck up? 

The fear you once felt for yourself pales in comparison to the true fear you feel now. You’re supposed to protect Sunbeam, supposed to keep them safe.

You’re supposed to be a mom. 

A sob claws its way out, and you clap your palm over your mouth, agony squeezing your heart, panic clutching your throat in a vise, choking off your air, throttling you until you’re gasping.

You should run, should sprint into the bedroom and grab the gun from under your mattress, should start crawling out the window to the fire escape.

You should do these things, but instead, you’re trapped, immobile, watching with horror as the deadbolt turns horizontal, sliding the lock free with a bloodcurdling click.

Your baby. You were supposed to keep your baby safe. 

You failed. 

You stand, so unsteady you have to support your weight by leaning against the counter. The only thing in here are kitchen knives, and you rip two from the block, one hiding behind your back, the other brandished in front of your body like a sword.

You’re going to die. 

But not without a fight. 

Tears wet your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you choke, sliding a hand over little Sunbeam, “I’m so- so sorry.”

The creak of the door handle is unmistakable, a metal whine scraping against the frame. You close your eyes.

“Bunny.”

Your heart stops.

The men you thought love you are standing just inside your kitchen, the sight of them turning your stomach, their eyes flicking between you and the shiny, sharp knife in your hand.

Johnny inches forward, his voice a low, gentle murmur, one that cracks your heart. “It’s okay pretty girl, we’re here to take ye home.”

“Get away from me.” The knife is practically rattling in your hand.

"It's alright. We’d never hurt ye, either of ye. We know what ye saw and-“

“N-no,” you sob, voice cracking, shoulders shaking, “don’t come near me.”

“Put that down, sweet girl, it’s alright.” Simon edges around the counter, caution and wary weighing his steps. They’re supposed to be muffled you think, soft, but they ring so loud.

“Stop!”

“Just let us explain, give us a minute-“

“I saw you! I saw you w-with him.” Your vision is blurred by tears, and you look down at your belly, desperate. “Just let us go, please. Don’t- don’t let him-“

“Listen to me, sweetheart. We have nothing to do with Phillip.” His name makes your flinch, and you inch backwards.

“You know him.”

“We do. He tried to kill us, betrayed us, on a mission. Nearly succeeded with Johnny.” The words conflict, mash together into a scramble you don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.

More lies. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know, I know you don’t. I wouldn’t if I was in your position either, but we’re telling the truth.” You shake your head.

“No. You’re just… you’re just trying to trick me.”

“We’re not,” Johnny murmurs, “We’ve always told ye the truth, bun. And we’d never hurt ye.” He steps forward. It’s too close, way too close, and you pivot, both knives still clutched in your hands.

“Put them down.” Simon instructs, a little bit of steel in his voice now. He can obviously see the one behind your back, and your heart starts to sink.

There’s no way out. You should have run when you had the chance. 

Stupid.

The girl in the mirror stays silent. She says nothing.

For all you know, she’s dead already. Killing blow dealt by your own hand.

You think about Sunbeam, all warm and safe, protected from the world, and despair swells in your chest, an entire ocean beneath your feet, waiting to swallow you up, drag you down and drown you.

“Now, sweetheart. We don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You laugh. It’s a sickly, nervous thing, too tinny and high pitched.

You’re falling apart. You’re not a fighter, you’re a runner, shot lame in a race rigged against you from the beginning. They’re closing in, wolves stalking the bleeding lamb between them, predators about to fall on prey.

 “Don’t,” whisper, fingers tightening around the knife in front of your body, unable to hold it steady through the trembling.

“Bunny, listen to us, please.” Johnny is reaching and you get trapped in his gaze, spiraling into the swirl of misery and fear, mirroring your own. “I love ye, we love ye. Ye belong with us, at home, where we can keep ye safe.” You slam your eyes shut, trying to block him out. “I’ve loved ye since the day I opened m’eyes and saw ye leaning over the bed. We’d never hurt ye, we jus’ want to take ye home.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Simon moves. One powerful, huge step, and he’s on you, grabbing your arm, applying pressure to your knuckles to release the knife.

You scream. It’s instinct. Everything shuts down, narrowing down to one objective.

Run.

“Johnny,” he half shouts over your keening, holding gentle pressure against your arm as you try to rip yourself free. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You thrash, trying to twist out of his grip, shoulder shrieking in pain, and he goes with your momentum, providing slack so there’s no tension in your arm. “Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself sweetheart, you’re okay.”

You’re not. 

You’re not okay. You’ll never be okay. 

The walls close in, and it all becomes so clear. Your future, what will happen if they take you, if you leave here with them.

They’ll take Sunbeam. They’ll turn you over to Phillip, throw you out like trash, and you’ll die.

Are you going to let it happen, just like you let everything else? Are you going to roll over? Let it all be stolen, again and again? 

No. 

Simon reaches for the other knife and you swing it wide, slicing through the air until the blade meets flesh.

He hisses. Blood spills, drips down the handle, coats your fingers, and you stand there, frozen, gobsmacked.

Did you- 

Did you just- 

“Johnny,” he barks, but it barely registers, you’re too transfixed by the blood, hypnotized by it, too entranced to even register Johnny at your side, too stunned to see what’s in his hand.

A needle. 

He whispers your name, cradles your face-

And then everything goes black.

[marauders1971-1978]

This is the post I channel for James' characterisation for years 1-3

The dormitory grew brighter around him at a snail’s pace, the weak Autumn light struggling through the flat, white cloud cover. Remus was exhausted and frustrated, but still, infuriatingly awake. He gave up trying to get any rest and clambered over to the bottom of his bed to pull out a book from his trunk to read until it was a reasonable time to be up. 

His eyelids were just drooping over his copy of The Wishing Chair, Again that he’d brought from home to lend to Lily when something heavy and unexpected dropped onto his legs. 

“Morning!” James whispered over Remus’ grunt of pain. He was beaming, and looked like he’d slept outside in a hurricane. 

“Yeah, morning.” Remus pulled his legs from under James, lest he break them, and put his book to one side. “You’re up early.”

“I suppose. Hey, sorry to spring this on you, but I forgot to ask yesterday with all the excitement. Are you a werewolf?”

Remus lunged forward and clapped his hand over James’ mouth, looking over to his left in a panic. Peter was still snoring. 

“Jesus Christ, James, shut up.” 

James pried Remus’ hand away from his mouth and grimaced apologetically. 

“Sorry mate,” James apologised, keeping his voice hushed. “Anyway, you are, aren’t you? I double-checked the lunar charts over summer-”

“James, are you mental?” Remus groaned. He couldn’t take much more anxiety in one night. “What do you mean, you were ‘checking lunar charts’? It’s like, five in the morning - why are you asking me this right now?”

James looked horrified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I was so sure I was right - I suppose that was a bit presumptuous. Please, ignore what I said, I’m so sorry-”

“No, you’re right, it’s just that-”

“Wait, I’m right ?”

Remus wanted to obliterate himself on the spot. What an idiot. 

Well, he supposed at least he could stop worrying about it now. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

He stole a tentative glance at James, expecting disgust, or horror, or fear. Instead, he looked… smug?

“ Knew it!” he hissed. “I’m such a great detective. Sirius isn’t going to believe that I figured it out before him-”

Remus couldn’t believe his ears. Was it simply that James hadn’t thought of the reality of what he’d discovered? Perhaps it was still all a game of Cluedo to him. Perhaps, once he’d had a few minutes for the horror of what he’d said to sink in, he’d go straight to Professor McGonagall, or Professor Dumbledore, and ask that Remus be housed elsewhere, or expelled, for their own safety. 

And he’d be right to. 

Remus flinched as a hand waved before his eyes, far too close to his face. 

“Hey, Lupin. You okay there?”

Remus blinked at him, waving his hand away. He didn’t want to touch him. 

“Am I okay?”

James huffed. “You keep just repeating me.” James seemed to stop, pull the breaks on his own train of thought, and really look at Remus for the first time since he’d sat on the bed. Remus could feel his eyes searching him. “Sorry. I think I’ve made a mistake.” 

There it was.

“I’ve really freaked you out, haven’t I?”

Freaked him out?

“I bet it’s been really hard for you, you tried to keep it a secret. And here I am blabbing away about it. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I can keep a secret, I promise. Especially for a friend.”

Remus refused to cry for the third time that day, so he leaned forward and hugged James roughly, before he could think twice about it. James squeezed him back.

BONUS - Peter

“I guess this is about the werewolf thing?”

Remus snapped his head up, bashing his forehead on James’ chin as he did. Peter stood beside the bed, sleepy eyed. Remus rubbed his head and looked bewildered at Peter. 

“How do you know?” He asked, incredulous. 

“You were sick at the full moon and your scars don’t heal,” Peter shrugged. “I supposed you were trying to keep it a secret, so I didn’t say anything. Seems like that’s over and done with now though.” He smiled up at him and Remus felt his chest ache like someone had reached inside him and squeezed his heart. 

How did he deserve this?

James unlatched himself from Remus and huffed at Peter. “Wait, when did you figure this out? I thought it’d gotten it first?”

“No way, I figured it out end of last year - I’m sure you only put it together in the holidays-”

“That’s not true, I was just double checking! I knew last year-”

“You did not, you’re a liar-”

Remus: Oh no. You don’t want to befriend me. I’m a handful.

James: [excitedly] I have two hands!!!

[joemama-2]

it’s late at night. he’s already situated on the bed, seeing you come into the room with unkempt hair, you shirt has splotches of dried milk and your movements are slow. tired.

why wouldn’t you be?

an energetic three year old who’s just like his father is hard to maintain. though you wouldn’t trade it for the world. “come here, baby.” he pats his lap, grinning softly.

you look over from where you’re taking off your jewelry for the day, in attempt to get ready for your nightly shower. “hm? for what?”

his eyes follow your every movement, patting his lap once more. “you know exactly why. cmon, daddy needs some stress relief.”

the laugh you let out causes his face to soften, admiring you in a way that’s reserved solely for his wife, for the mother of his son. “i thought we agreed you couldn’t call yourself that anymore.”

he adjusts himself when he sees you come over, crawling on the bed to situate yourself in a straddling position over his hips. his hands fall into place on the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on the small patch of skin that shows when your shirt lifts up. “you did. i didn’t.”

“it’s cringey.”

“so?”

you huff, eyes rolling. he dips his head forward into the crook of your neck, planting a trail of warm kisses. “satoru, are you sure?”

“are you sure?” he asks, voice muffled by your skin. “i just want to pamper my wife after a long day, can’t i do that?”

“i feel hideous right now.”

he tips his head back, bright eyes staring back at you with an intensity you’ve come to associate with. the kind of intensity that lets you know whatever he says—he means it. “hideous? what did i say before, huh? i said don’t even think about saying stupid stuff like that again. and look at you now.”

your lips downturn. “don’t say that just to make me feel better.”

“i’m not,” he places a firm kiss to your lips. “you look beautiful every day, every second of the day. but you look especially gorgeous right now.”

you narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. “why right now?”

satoru’s lips quirk into a sly grin, his thumbs still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. "because right now, I see my whole world in front of me. the woman who gave me everything I could ever want—a family, a home, a reason to come back every single day.”

the weight of his words presses against the exhaustion hanging over you. it’s not just flattery. it’s raw and genuine, just like him, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. “you’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“and you’re so heavenly,” his grin widens, leaning in closer until your noses almost touch. “but you love my cheesiness, don’t you? admit it.”

your lips twitch, a small smile breaking through despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. “maybe I do.”

“there it is,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if he’s handling something fragile. “that smile’s all I need to get through anything.”

the words wrap around your tired soul like a warm blanket. and for a moment, the weight of the day fades, replaced by the solid, steady presence of him—your husband, your partner, the man who never fails to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

you sigh, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong.” his voice is firm, his hands steady as they pull you just a little closer, subtly rubbing you against his clothed cock. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

and in that quiet, intimate moment, with the world outside fading into irrelevance, you believe him.

"now let me pamper you like I promised." he switches positions, hovering above you as you lay on your back. leaning down to raise the hem of your shirt, trailing sweet kisses and licks against your stomach—heading further south. your hips raise slightly as he discards your lounge pants, breath hitching in anticipation. hand running down through the streaks of his white hair, he smiles at the sight of your pussy hidden behind the grandma underwear you adorn.

hot breath tickling your core that leaves you almost jerking upwards for more. he kisses your clit through the loose fabric. “besides, mommy needs her fix too, doesn’t she?”

[boybandbaby]

Alienated (Aaron Hotchner x Pregnant!Non-BAU!Reader)

word count: 1215

warnings: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, jealous!aaron, fluff, angst? not really

note: just a silly 🤪 little idea that popped into my head - also i’ve been in the writing mood so plz send requests (please see pinned masterlist for who I write for)

Aaron had been gone for two weeks. TWO WHOLE WEEKS. 14 days. 336 hours and counting.

You had been gifted a body pillow by JJ in your first trimester. She swore by it. You didn’t need it much as Aaron was home more often now that you were pregnant.

Aaron promised to not go on any long trips when he found out you were pregnant but the last case was urgent and needed all hands on deck.

It’s Aaron’s first night back and as he adjusted his pajamas pants from under his feet, kicking his feet through the ends, he watched you fluff your pillow.

“You’re gonna sleep with that thing? It’s bigger than Jack.”

“Yeah, it’s so comfy.” You slap the sides and slam your head onto it, throwing a leg over it and sighing once comfortable.

Early on in your pregnancy, you could go without the pillow as he was around more often. But this time around you couldn’t sleep without it.

That first night back you hugged the pillow in between you on the bed. The fuzzy fabric tickled Aaron’s elbow too many times tonight. He figured he could suffer through the night with the pillow wedged into his side for a few more days. Days turned into one week. He then had to take a short trip to Minnesota for a case.

When he came back, his grudge against the pillow had grown. He would ask you to sleep without the pillow but each night he would wake to the cushion lodged in his back. He just couldn’t do it anymore.

He’d like to say it was the lack of sleep but deep down it was the lack of cuddles. Aaron would never admit out loud to being a man who loves cuddling. The team, especially Morgan would never let him live it down.

“Honey, you think we could do without the pillow for tonight? It’s far too big for our bed.”

“Handsome, I need it to sleep throughout the night. The baby likes it.”

He knew as soon as yoy said that, he would never be able to deny you the pillow. “Okay. I can’t deny my girls anything.”

“It’s a boy. I keep telling you I can feel it.” You debate. “You’re a profiler not a psychic.”

“I know that.” He deadpans as he slips under the covers and turns his lamp off. You watch as he pulls the covers over his stomach. He just looks so comfy and cute you toss your pillow to the side and snuggle up to him.

Aaron smirks triumphantly as your hand travels up his shirt and rubs his chest softly.

You focus on his deep breaths as he quickly succumbs to his sleep unlike you.

You toss and turn all night, huffing and puffing as Aaron clings to you. His arm is under your head as your belly rests against his ribcage. Aaron runs hot at nights and you need your blanket but right now you feel suffocated. You throw the blanket away from your body.

“Aaron. I can’t do this. I need to sleep with my pillow.” You groan and shift to sit up. Aaron groggily pushes at your lower back to help you up.

“I’m going to burn that pillow.” He mumbles under his breath. He believes he said it too low for you to hear but you do anyway.

“What? Why?” You gasp, pulling the pillow up from the floor.

“I haven’t gotten a proper nights sleep with that thing.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And,” he emphasizes, “you don’t cuddle me at night anymore.”

It’s rude and you know it but you laugh. A genuine, from the belly, laugh. When you thought he couldn’t look more grumpy and stoic, he surprises you. It only makes you giggle louder and longer.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m sleeping with Jack.” He throws the comforter off his lap and moves his legs over the side of the bed.

“No! No, I’m sorry.” You struggle to rise to your knees, crawling towards him and reaching out. You pull at his t-shirt before he can get off the bed. “I don’t mean to laugh but… are you jealous of my pillow?”

“I’m not jealous.” He huffs and lets you pull him back onto the bed. His back hits the mattress and you dangle over him, hands on his shoulders. He’s upside down and even then you can see how annoyed he is.

“I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, handsome.” You cup his face, fingertips tickling under his chin and thumbs rubbing his lower lip and chin. Aaron crosses his arms over his chest. There’s a barely there pout on his lips.

You lean down as best as you can with your belly in the way. You kiss his lips somehow soft even with a slight chap to them. He melts almost immediately. You sit up to look at him, hands now on your belly.

“You know sometimes, when you’re away, I wrap one of your polos or sweaters around the pillow. They smell like you and it helps me sleep.” You brush hair from his forehead. “And if I’m feeling nasty, I even put a button up and tie.”

He snorts out a laugh. “Alright, no need for that.” He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Fine, because that was really sweet and kind of funny, you can keep the pillow but it has to stay at the edge of the bed. Can’t be in between us.”

“No! I like facing you.” You pout. “I’m pregnant, you have to be nice to me.”

“I am very nice to you.” He states, sitting up. “We’re going to have to get a bigger bed.”

“That’s dramatic, Aaron but listen, I’ll compromise and sleep facing the other way as long as you spoon me.”

Aaron thinks for a moment, “deal.”

You stick out you hand for him and he immediately grabs it, shaking it.

You shake your head with a laugh before dropping back down onto the bed. You get comfortable as you snuggle against the pillow. Aaron watches and waits and when you’re settled, he shuts the light off and scoots his front flush to your back. His right hand snakes under his pillow and his left scoops under your belly.

“Just think, only a few more weeks of this and you won’t have to suffer.” You remind him, you’re reaching the end of your pregnancy.

He pulls you closer to him, head buried in the back of your neck. You feel him nod. He’s quiet and you gently twist in his arms to look at him. “You okay?”

“As much as I hate your pillow, I’m going to miss you being pregnant. I love seeing you with a bump.”

“Just think, we’ll finally have our baby. A little brother for Jack.”

“Or sister.” He whispers.

“Or sister.” You roll your eyes playfully. After a few moments of silence, you know he’s still awake, just savoring the moment with you. “Hey, do you think I can tell JJ about you being jealous of the pillow?”

“You tell JJ and she’s fired.” He jokes, “she’s my least favorite employee now.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that when I see her.” You laugh.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

My Lovely

Player 001 x reader [Fluff]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

You had an expensive day, to say the least. You were tired, walking around and carrying all your bags. You chose not to bring a guard along with you, it wasn’t’t like you were a celebrity or high profile. In fact, you could guarantee that no one knew who you were, only the fact that you were a big spender. But, you knew better than to assume that your darling husband would let you off the island without some form of protection around you.

When you first met In Ho and you walked around, you heard him say it once; that you were literally the safest person in the world in that present moment. You knew for a fact that if he said that while you were walking through Seoul with him, then walking alone… security was tighter than ever.

“Babe!” You shouted. You walked into the empty room. You dropped your bags, the others would be brought up within the next 5 minutes. Not a single one of those masked men on the island dare to keep you waiting, disappoint, or frustrate you. They’d rather die than face the monster out wrath of your husband, their boss, the Front Man. You thought it a good idea to soak in the tub, to wash away the smell of being outdoors.

You could admit, you were spoiled, probably treated better than any form of royalty, and you knew it. You heard the door to your room open, not bothering to call out to your husband. You laid for an hour longer before getting out and drying off with a fresh towel. You did your skincare routine earlier than usual, but you didn’t plan on going anywhere. Slipping your robe on and loosely tying it, you walked into the grand bedroom.

In Ho was no where to be found. You ventured further into your enormous room before seeing him settled in front of large screen tv, in his large black chair, pouring a glass of bourbon. Today’s game was playing in front of him,

“Dalgona” you say, from behind him. “Who picked that?’ You snorted.

“I cannot for the life of me remember which one of those game squares sugg- oh, you know what, it was il nam who did” he said not turning towards.

“Honey, haven’t I asked you not to watch that wretched game on the screen while I’m home?” You ask floating to his side, curling into his outreached hand.

“Yes, my lovely, you have” he said, clicking it off. He pulled you into his lap. “How was your day, gorgeous?”

“It was good. I went to all of my favorite little market shops, I picked up some more soaps for us. I was running out so bought us both some. Some magazines, and I ran into the recruiter today. He sends his wishes.” You said. “And the malls, until I got tired then I drove back to the ferry to be brought back.” You smile.

“That smile tells me my bank statement has something that tells you bought something you didn’t consult me over” he smiles at you. You shake your head. “(Y/n)?” In Ho drawled out tauntingly.

“Nothing I promise” you say quickly.

“Then, (y/n), who is this?” He pulls a sleeping kitten from beside him. You were busted.

“Oh baby, just look at him!” You squealed, with excitement. “I couldn’t help myself, and he was the only one!” You tried to defend yourself.

“I’m not upset, and he is quite adorable.” He agrees as he hands your newly adopted kitten to you. “What did you decide to name him?”

“I want you to help me decide”

“Oh, so, I do have say in the matter!” Your husband exclaimed. “How about Wiseuki?”

“I think it’s perfect!” You say holding the kitten.

“What breed is he anyways? He looks like a leopard or a jaguar” In Ho says.

“He’s a Bengal cat… or so the lady said.” You reply. “I’m getting tired, join me?” You ask.

“Why would I pass up the opportunity to sleep with my wife?” In Ho asks, not really looking for an answer. “I fed him already, by the way” he said. You look at him sharply. “I read the instructions, made sure I did everything right. His bed it set up, litter box in that far corner”

“You did everything!” You say happily, setting the kitten on his bed. “The woman says he’s already potty trained” you add.

“Oh good” In Ho says picking you up and twirling you around before laying you on your bed. You giggles slowly dying out.

“So, how was your day ?” You ask him as he undoes his long leather coat.

“Oh god. Il nam, is stressing me out. I mean, that man’s ode to dying is crazy. On his death bed and he chooses to join his own games, granted he has the immunity from death but how are we supposed to cover every game?” He says, he walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth, “I just don’t get it, and his guests arrive in just a few days and there’s just more responsibility placed on me that I don’t really want” In Ho gets into bed next to you.

“I’m so sorry baby” you reply cuddling up to him.

“It’s okay, laying here with you at the end of it all makes it all worth it. Keeping you happy, being able to just live how we do but are reminded I am just a man that loves his wife and just wants to be with her at night.”

“I love you” you say kissing his chest.

“I love you, more” he kisses your forehead. Sighing heavily as he relaxed. Holding you close to him and entangling his legs with yours. “I love you more.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don’t think you’ll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re not entirely enthused for the cooking class. The taint of Andy’s intentions follows you down to the community centre, that echoing reminder that you’re inadequate. There is a part of you that cherishes the distraction, the moment outside the house when you’re not mopping or tittering around to make sure everything is perfect. Even so, it’s only to make sure that you don’t give your husband another reason to rant. 

As you enter, you’re greeted by the rather bouncy instructor. She introduces herself a Barb. She’s plump and her pixie cut is died a shade of purplish red. You give her your name and she checks you off the list. 

You look around as she sends you off to find a work station. You’re drawn to a familiar face. You smile and cross the room. 

“Hey, Porsha,” you approach your neighbour. “I thought you’d be home with the twins.” 

She turns to preen at you. Her perfectly highlighted hair ripples in soft waves and you wouldn’t guess that she’s three months postpartum. She greets you with a tilt of her head. 

“Oh, hi, how are you?” 

“Um, okay. How are you feeling? How are the boys?” You ask. 

“A lot. Timothy’s still on his business trip so the nanny’s with the tots. I needed a break,” she explains with a sigh. You see her live-in nanny often; dark-haired woman often dragging out the garbage or schlupping round the stroller. “Mandy’s on her way. We signed up together.” She looks behind her at the counter, “I’m saving her a spot.” 

You glance over and realise each station is made only for two. You take the hint with grace. Her and Mandy were always close. In fact, all the women in the neighbourhood knew each other better than you knew any of them. You’re still the new one and your family is still incomplete. 

“Right, well, I hope you enjoy the class,” you smile. 

“Oh yes, I pumped before I came so I can enjoy some wine. You get a glass to cook with,” she chimes. 

“Ah, that’s... cool. Well, I’ll go find a place,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb. 

You turn and a squeal erupts across the room. Mandy taps furiously over to Porscha, passing you without notice, and the two bounce and hug. You could use some of that wine but you’re not drinking. You promised Andy. 

You find a station in the corner, far from your neighbours. You feel left out even if they don’t mean to exclude you. It’s hard not to when every time you see them, you’re just sort of there and more interested in each other. 

Barb’s full voice fills the room as she welcomes the newcomers. You focus on the counter top, taking in the sink, the cooktop, and the various pieces set out for your work. You’re not so sure about this anymore. You’ll go home and try it on your own then prove to Andy that you will always be mediocre. 

“Pardon,” a thunderous timbre pulls you from your self-pity. You raise your chin as you bat your lashes at the rather large man at the corner of the counter. He smiles. He’s familiar but you don’t think he’s from the neighbourhood, “do you mind if I share? Barb says we should have a partner and my brother declined my invite.” 

“Oh, um,” you look around. The other stations are full. You shrug, “sure, that’s okay.” 

“Wonderful,” he booms in his boisterous voice. You narrow your eyes at him and tilt your head as you try to pluck out where you know him from. 

He’s tall and broad, blonde hair past his shoulders, the front strands pulled back into a runic clip, and he wears a button-up that threatens to split as the buttons strain over his chest. He turns to stand parallel to you and grabs the tongs, clacking them contently. 

You sense the attention of another. You lean to see around the man as Porscha and Mandy whisper behind their hands and stare. You frown and teeter on your toes. 

“Forgive me,” he snaps the tongs again. “I’ve not introduced myself. Thor.” 

“Thor...” you repeat then give your name as his snags in your head. “Thor... you’re not...” you squint at him. 

“Hm, I hoped I’d not draw suspicion,” he tries to make himself smaller in a rather comical way for someone so big. “It is I, yes.” 

“What...” 

“I found this place on a map. I thought perhaps somewhere smaller might afford me some discretion,” he turns his head as he continues to toy with the tongs and he glances around at those peeking at him. “Your planet is rather small and reputations do spread far and wide.” 

“Right, uh, well, yeah, it must be awkward.” 

“Mm, it is not something I’m unused to. I am known across the nine realms and beyond.” He turns back. “But, since I have chosen to reside here for a time, I thought I might learn the customs. The food. I’ve been eating a lot of pizza and well...” he looks down and pats his stomach, the fabric just as taut there. “It’s accumulated.” 

You can’t help but laugh, “mm, pizza. I haven’t had any in ages.” 

“No? In New York, it is everywhere. I find myself inundated.” He declares. “I understand we are to cook... alfr-ee-doo.” 

“Alfredo,” you correct him. “Looks like we’ll be making our own pasta too,” you point at the press. 

“Pasta. Mmm, yes, I do enjoy the dish.” He nods as he scratches his beard with the tongs. He can’t seem to stop his fidgeting. “And what brings the lady to the cookery?” 

“Oh, uh, my husband signed me up,” you say, tucking your hands behind you.  

“He did? And he did not accompany you?” He inquires. “How unfortunate. Were she still speaking to me, I’d have asked my... former acquaintance Jane, but she is far too busy and wise for me. I must admit I was hesitant to attend alone.” 

You nod, “I’m sorry. That’s too bad.” 

“Not very bad. I’ve met you. A lovely young lady,” he proclaims and gestures to you with the tongs. “I can already see you will be a partner preferable to my brother. He is not very skilled at collaboration. I would need to mind the knives.” 

You chuckle again. It feels good to laugh. You only realise then, how long it’s been since you’ve done so genuinely. 

[foreverlittlesoshi]

about damn time

noah sebastian x reader

content warning: pregnancy and fluff

word count: 921

once getting back home from the maldives, you noticed a few red flags but decided to ignore them. probably from still riding on the high of finally marrying noah and how perfectly amazing the honeymoon was, even after making the big decision to finally have a kid. time had slipped away from you that you weren’t even thinking about once getting back home since you both had work to get back to, mainly noah having to prepare to go back on tour in australia. 

at first it was nausea but no puking along with a fever so you thought you caught a stomach bug and decided that it would pass soon so no need to make a big deal of it. next thing was extreme fatigue, like more than usual. it felt like no matter how much you slept even after being up for just a few minutes, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. the next few symptoms just felt like what happens before a period. sore & swollen breasts, moodswings, cramps, bloating and small break out of acne.

the thought of something being wrong didn’t hit you until your sense of smell heightened and no matter how much you scrubbed and scrubbed around the house, you somehow found something else that needed to be cleaned the next day. then you started having an intense craving for sushi, which you didn’t even care for since seafood and when you finally got it, you thought you were gonna die from pure happiness. you didn’t even notice how much you were going to the bathroom until noah had pointed it out.

“babe, are you okay?” he asks as you walk back into the room.

“yeah, why do you ask?” you retorted back confused and he shrugged.

“that’s like the 6th time you’ve peed in the last 30 minutes.” noah then informed you.

“i probably just drank too much water.” you say brushing it off.

it was late one night when you finally realized that your period was late, but you chalked it up to the fact that your period had a mind of its own and would come eventually. the cramps were still happening and your breasts were still swollen & tender so it had to come soon or maybe this was a rare month you would just miss it. so you just went on with your life, living it pretty normal though the cramps were just starting to annoy you to the point you had to drug yourself with melatonin to sleep at night. 

“are you sure you’re okay?” noah asks with worry so clear in his voice.

“babe, i promise i’m okay. no need to stress yourself out and cancel when you guys have so many fans who’ve been waiting so long to see y’all.” you tell him while running your hand through his hair.

“i just wanna make sure you’re okay. you haven’t been acting like yourself lately which i know you think i haven’t noticed but of course i did. i don’t know if i’ve done something or maybe have been focusing a little too much on the tour but i just want you to know that i’m sorry and i love you.” his words make your heart break while tears gathered on your waterline.

“i love you too but no, you haven’t done anything. i think this depressing ass winter weather is just getting to me too much right now.” he couldn’t control his laughter at that answer, “now, enough sad stuff. let’s watch a comedy before you have to leave me tomorrow.”

-

you couldn’t take it anymore.

you tore the box open quickly as well as the plastic wrap around the test, removing the cap and peeing on the test. once getting enough on the test, you capped it and laid it face down to finish your business. washing your hands felt like ages due to the stress and just focusing your eyes on the test. finally deciding it was time to see, you grabbed the test and flipped it over to reveal the results.

positive.

no, no way. maybe the test is broken. you thought to yourself. you wasted no time rushing down the stairs grabbing your car keys and rushing to go get more tests. 

-

next thing you knew, you had five positive pregnancy tests covering the bathroom counter and questioning how you were able to produce that much pee even with being pregnant. grabbing you phone, you immediately called noah and felt like your nerves were about to explode.

“hi baby!” the sound of noah’s voice made you feel like crying.

“so, i have some news.” “what’s up?”

you felt like time had stopped when the next words left your mouth, “i’m pregnant.”

“oh, thank god. i thought it was bad news.” his answer made you happy but also confused you.

“wait, you’re not mad or upset?” you ask and he just laughs.

“of course not. that’s what we spent the majority of our honeymoon trying for and the only thing i’m upset about is the fact i’m not with you right now.” noah tells you.

“that’s understandable. so maybe you should hurry up and come home.” you then say to him in a serious tone. 

“the first chance i get, i will. i promise.” “you better.” and the sound of his laughter was so precious.

“i have to go, baby but i’ll text you later. i love you.” he then says which made you whine.

“okay, i love you too.” 

an - so fun fact, this is actually based on real life because i found out last week that i'm pregnant and these were my actual symptoms. so yeah, my time for writing may be more slim now since i have many things to do before september and i will have to be working way more now

also thank you for all the support! i love you guys! 💖

[magnificentmiraclenacho]

The sister of the winner

Gi hun x sister reader

Summary: When gi hun wants to take down the games he faces a lot of problems. But one problem he also has is his relationship with his sister minji ( reader ). Gi hun dosent want to tell her about the games do to her innocent. But what happends when the salesman lores her into the games, and the siblings finds them self fighting for their lifes.

Part 1 = Not so sweet home

It wasn’t unusual for your brother, Gin Hun, to keep things from you. You had grown up knowing that he preferred to hide his struggles rather than burden anyone else. But ever since he showed up at your door after weeks with clean clothes, a new haircut, and enough money to settle the debts that had been hanging over him like a noose, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Where did you get this money?” you’d asked him that day, holding the thick wad of cash he handed you.

“Does it matter?” he replied, brushing past you to collapse on the couch. “Just take it. Pay off your bills, buy yourself something nice. Start over.”

You stared at him, waiting for a real answer, but none came. He just stared blankly at the ceiling, a haunted look in his eyes.

---

The months that followed weren’t what you expected. You thought Gin Hun’s sudden wealth would change things for the better—that he’d smile more, take you out to eat like he used to when you were younger, or even just be around more.

Instead, he became distant. He stopped answering your calls as often, and when he did, his voice was hollow, like he was somewhere far away. He would be out late at night with so called frieds. You knew that was not true, and that those were not his friends, but you didin't say enything.

“Are you okay?” you asked him once when he finally showed up for dinner after weeks of silence.

“I’m fine,” he said, but his forced smile told you otherwise.

“Where’s the money from, Oppa?” you pressed again. “Did you win the lottery or something?”

He froze, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just know I’ve got your back now, okay?”

That answer didn’t sit right with you, but you let it go. For now.

---

What Gin Hun didn’t know was that you had been struggling too. The money he gave you that first time had been enough to help you for a little while, but it wasn’t a permanent fix. Your job barely covered your living expenses, and the debt collectors were growing more aggressive with every missed payment.

You thought about asking Gin Hun for help again, but something stopped you. He seemed so fragile these days, so weighed down by something he wouldn’t talk about. And even if you did ask, you weren’t sure you’d like the answer.

From author:

Instead, you tried to figure it out on your own. You picked up extra shifts, cut back on meals, and ignored the threatening calls as best you could. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t enough.

Guys this first chapter is quite short and lowkey boring but i promise you  it gets better.😭🙏

Masterlist=

[cha-melodius]

I am so here for these ficlets !! 🥰🥰

27 + firstprince, please ❣️ Merci ❣️❣️

(Also for @firenati0n. I told myself I was going to keep these below 1k. This one is 999 words. 😂 Also inspired by fanart that I will link at the end so as not to spoil the reveal. read all the hug ficlets)

27: The hug that has them clinging onto you for dear life. 

Two years into their friendship, and one year into their time as flatmates (and approximately one year and three hundred sixty-four days after he first fell in love), Henry finally convinces Alex to go sailing with him.

“I promise, you’ll be safe,” Henry tells him, for the thousandth time, as they stand on the dock. The small sailboat bobs next to it, more stout than Henry would usually rent, but perfect for today.

Alex shoots him his one-thousandth sceptical look. “What if I fall in?”

“We’ll be wearing these,” Henry tells him, brandishing a bright red life jacket in front of him.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I’m ready,” Alex says.

Henry can’t help but deflate. “Look, I won’t force you, but I really think you’ll enjoy it. And in a tub like this, we won’t even get wet.”

Chewing on his lower lip, Alex stares down at the boat. “Promise?”

That’s probably a silly promise to make—they’ll be on a small boat, after all, quite close to the water, but Henry makes it anyway. Finally, he gets Alex into the life jacket, shrugs his own on, and steps into the little boat, which rocks under his weight. He holds out a hand to help Alex in, which Alex stares at for an excruciating minute before he finally takes it.

Of course, Alex doesn’t know how to get into a boat, which means the moment he steps past the gunwale, the boat lurches to one side and Henry ends up with Alex clinging to him for dear life, holding onto Henry’s jacket with a white-knuckle grip as he presses his body as close to Henry’s as physically possible.

“It’s ok, love, you’re alright,” Henry laughs, curling one arm around Alex as he uses the other to hold onto the rigging. He’s certainly not complaining; if he thought this would happen, he might have pressed to go out on the boat earlier.

“I’m only staying because I can’t move or I’ll fall out,” Alex huffs, glaring up at him.

“You’re not going to fall out,” Henry insists. “And if you do, I’ll come rescue you.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “My hero.”

In the end—once they get underway and Henry convinces him to stop white knuckling the sides of the boat—Alex slowly relaxes. In fact, for someone who almost religiously avoids the water, he looks surprisingly at home out here with the sea breeze tousling his curls. They’d packed a picnic lunch, so Henry drops the sails and lets them bob aimlessly in the sound while they eat, and it’s really lovely. Henry’s ready to mark this down as a resounding success, at least until he goes to raise the jib and finds it caught on something.

“Stay here, I’ll be back shortly,” he tells Alex, then climbs up to the bow and sets to work untangling the knot that his lines have gotten themselves into.

It takes longer than he expects, and when he turns back, he sees Alex standing at the stern, one hand on a stay, just staring into the ocean. Henry’s so distracted by the sight of him that he doesn’t notice the motorboat’s approach until it goes rocketing past them at far too close a range, sending a massive wave careening toward their boat. Henry calls out to Alex, but it’s too late—he watches, as if in slow motion, as the boat heaves in the wake and sends Alex toppling over the side.

“Alex!” Henry yells again as he scrambles desperately toward the stern, only to find the life jacket bobbing in the water. Empty.

It takes no more than the length of a breath for Henry to shuck his own jacket and dive in. The water is clear for the first few meters, but there’s no sign of Alex near the boat. His lungs scream as he kicks deeper, desperation thrumming in his veins.

He sees a flash of iridescent red, like the fins of something large, out of the corner of his eye, which is as good a sign as any that he’s running out of oxygen. There’s no fish that’s red like that up here. He doesn’t want to, but he has little choice—Henry claws his way to the surface and gulps air, screaming Alex’s name even though it’s probably pointless.

But then—

Something brushes his shoulder, and a familiar voice murmurs, “Henry, sweetheart, stop,” and Henry spins around to see Alex bobbing effortlessly in the waves. The fact that he’s not even treading water barely registers, because Henry’s too busy pulling him close, and it’s his turn to hold on for dear life lest Alex slip beneath the surface again.

“Oh my god, Alex, I thought I’d lost you,” he nearly sobs. “Come on, we have to get you out—”

Alex laughs, an odd musical quality to it. “Little late for that,” he says ruefully.

He pulls back, a hesitant look on his face, and a moment later a red, finned tail emerges from the water next to him.

“You’re—” Henry gasps. “You’re a mermaid.”

“Merman, actually,” Alex corrects as Henry swims close to him again. He can’t fight the to urge reach out toward Alex’s tail, mesmerized by the iridescent scales, and he sees Alex frown out of the corner of his eye. “You’re not scared of me?”

“No,” Henry says. “Why would I be? You’re beautiful. I mean, you've always been beautiful, but this…” When Alex doesn’t pull away, he cautiously strokes his fingers along one of Alex’s fins, and when he looks back he finds Alex watching him raptly. “You’re incredible, love.”

Alex’s tail slips beneath the surface, but he reaches out with both hands, grabs Henry’s face, and pulls him into a kiss that makes Henry’s blood sing in his veins. And Henry might not know how any of this works, but he’s completely sure that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep Alex in his life—and in his arms—forever.

(Loosely inspired by this art from @shirmirart, namely the Alex in the tub one—I envision that moment as coming later, back at their apartment, after Henry finds out about Alex)

[razorblade180]

Quality Time

Citlali:*reading* hm!!?

Aether:*casually walks in* Hello!

Citlali:…I’m still not used to this.

Aether:I can give your key back if you want.

Citlali:I didn’t say it was a bad thing to get used to. Anyways, let me guess, Ororon told you to swing by at a specific time?

Aether:You did give me a letter, but it’s a little hard to know your sleepy schedule. I wanted to hand you your birthday gift properly.

Citlali:*red* Oh you didn’t have to get me any-

Aether:*pulls out wine* Boom, Dandelion Wine from the best Mondstadt has to offer.

Citlali:I’m starting to think you see me as an alcoholic.

Aether: Heh, “starting to?”

Citlali:Hey! I drink a normal amount and when I feel like it!

Aether:So you don’t want th-

Citlali:*politely grabs it* It’s bad manners to refuse a gift.

Aether:Hehe. So, birthday girl, have anything you want to do today. My schedule is clear.

Citlali:I’m staying home. No offense but birthdays lose a bit of meaning when you’re my age. There’s nothing for an hold hang like me to do that I haven’t.

Aether:First, I’m older than you and I love my birthday. Don’t think about them all at once, but all the moments you had for the year.

Citlali:Well…I guess when you put it like that, there’s a lot to remember about this year.

Aether:Ending a war is a pretty big deal.

Citlali:Yeah but that’s a moment for everyone. I was referring to meeting someone who’s…rather interesting.

Aether:*red* Aww, thank you.

Citlali:I didn’t say it was- ugh, who am I kidding?

Aether:So, young lady, what are you up for? It’s your special day. I’ll listen to any request.

Citlali:…My social battery is pretty high today, so tolerating your antics wouldn’t be out of the question. I’m sure there’s plenty of light novels we could discuss. Plus…*shakes bottle* No way I’m finishing this alone.

Aether:So you want me to stay here with you all day?

Citlali:*red* Y-You said you were free? It doesn’t have to be until tomorrow or anything crazy. I…look, I want to talk to someone okay! You! I would like to just talk with you and I don’t know, not think about anything else.

Aether:*smiles* I’ll get the glasses. *walks to kitchen*

Citlali:You’re a real piece of work; ya know that? Don’t blame me if you get a bit drunk. If you can’t keep up, then tap out. Not everyone can handle their liquor like me.

xxxxxx

Citlali:*waking up* Uuuuugh, my head. *sits up* Mmmghggh, damn it. Seriously, what the heck is wrong with me!? After all of my bravado too. *looks left* What’s even the t-

Aether:*in the bed*Zzzzzzzz

………

Citlali:Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

Citlali:Wait! *looks down* My clothes are fine. Good! That’s good! Nothing happened! Makes sense. I probably got drunk before he did. He probably just brought me to bed. *pulls down cover*

Aether:*bruised up*

Citlali:WHAT DID I DO TO HIM!?

Several hours earlier

Aether:Please, Citlali, your grip! I’m not your pillow!

Citlali:Don’t leave. Stay the night with me~

Aether:Okay! But free my ribs.

Citlali:Pro-hic-mise first! Don’t leave me. I…wanna see you when I wake. I don’t want just the memories…

Aether:…I promise. I’ll be right here.

Citlali:*holds him close* Gooooood. You have no idea how much I…much I li..zzzzz

Aether:Why does she hug harder than Itto!?

[vampworks]

At Last

Pairing(s): Caleb xreader (platonic) Sylus x reader x Zayne( love triangle)

Caleb chooses the worst way to announce his homecoming or in other words, that one scene in Deadpool and Wolverine. "He has risen, baby girl." "Fuck!".

w/c: 3k

a/n: hours of dying inside and here we are. I want to thank pinterest, my cat, and the monster I drank. This game has me in shambles and I will never recover.

warnings: angst, comfort, trauma, pet names, intimacy, profanity, mentions of death, mentions of medication.

To the family of Josephine and Caleb Yizhou, we regret to inform you that, per verification process conducted by Linkon City Government. Both Josephine and Caleb have been officially recorded as decreased due the accident on the date of xx-xx-xx. We kindly request you to-

You could barely stomach reading the rest of the text. It has been nearly 3 years since you lost it all. Only now had they finished their investigation. How long did they take to realize what you had years ago. That your family was gone. Caleb was gone. With a new gift of nausea, you felt the numbness crawling back up again. The dread you thought you had grown customed to.

On the way to city hall, you cancel tonight’s date with Zayne with a text of your own. You didn’t even think of your promise to let him in more. Something came up, will explain later. Far too short for casual. It didn’t have the usual warmth you had when you spoke to him. You knew he would suspect something.  Hell, not even a heart at end of it. He probably thinks the world was ending for you. Maybe He’d be right. You have the spent the last 3 years trying to cope. Trying to rebuild any semblance of happiness. All of what. All it took was one text. One mention of their names for it to come crashing down. Congrats, you were still the hopeless kid thrown onto you ass from the blast. Staring at the burning remains of everything you’ve known.

Two weeks of haunting the earth with each step you took later. Everyone could see you hurting, it had made you numb to anything but work. Old habits die hard as they say. You took far too many missions only to burn through with berserk-like brutality.  Captain Jenna would have congratulated your latest efforts if it wasn’t for the thousand-yard stare you had with the floor every time you spoke. “Go home, y/ln” You couldn’t even muster an argument, so you packed your bag and trudged back to your empty apartment.

Finally, at your door, the sick feeling you had feeling eased for a single moment. A pair of strong arms had engulfed you leaving no room for escape. The familiar scent of gunmetal and rich cologne filled your senses. “Sy-“ you managed to let out in a huff. “Hello to you too, Kitten.” Normally you’d return his hug but once again the strength never came. With a huff of his own, the giant of a man lowers himself to his knees. Dark red eyes bore into e/c, so he looked for any signs of life, but you stared right back with a cold expressionless glaze. Still lost in the haze of it all. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, sweetie but please tell that you’re all right at leas.” He pleaded, his voice losing the honeyed sound for a much softer tone. “Please, y/n.”

After agonizing over trying to make any noise at all. Something rancid leaves your lips. “I’m fine, just leave alright. I can’t do this right now.”  You bite. The pleading eyes beneath you once again shift with a tired furrow in his brow. “You can’t do what? I came because you’ve been blowing off my calls. Zayne told me you skipped picking up your medication and the date that you planned with him.” You weakly pushed him away, reaching for the lock. His hand takes hold of your wrist. “Y/N”, more than a little stern. It was like talking to child, but it finally caught your attention. “What Sylus. I’m tired and I just want to sleep. I will get the damn pills in the morning and you’re both busy anyway. Just please let me go before I-’ The irritating chime of your phone cuts you off before you ruin the delicate facade of control. Another sigh and a painful glance up at him, you answer the call. “Hello” The hunter in you came out and sound just as cold as before. “Hello, am I speaking with Y/LN. Apologies of the late hour, but I called to deliver a message from Farspace Fleet command center, are you available at the moment?" The man asked, his chirper tone made you even more nauseous, but you agreed without a second thought. It was probably just courtesy since the investigation message you received. The man explained that fleet FSCV-001 would be returning to Sky haven soon and your presences was requested by a colonel by the name of Caleb Yizhou. The second shoe drops. Blood rushed to your head. The air ripped from your lungs.

Sylus caught you as your legs gave out from beneath you and brought you inside the apartment. It took every once of strength in your body to keep listening. “Ma’am, he also recorded a voice memo for you, I’ll play it for you now.  You shook away the tears that threatened to fall but it was too late. “Hey, pipsqueak. You’re not dreaming. Looks like you ‘ve been holding up well since I was gone. That’s precisely why I had to hurry back. Can’t give you a chance to forget about me. Don’t worry, I won’t disappear on you again- “You were now clinging to Sylus. Your nails are crawling against his back. The silky fabric bunching and wrinkling in your grasp but neither of you care. Gasping for breath as you hung on every word your lost friend spoke.

“Oh, one more thing. Don’t be afraid, I’m back now.” End of recording, Thank you for your time, Miss. You heard the bleep after he hung up. You were still fighting back the urge to scream. Sylus held you tighter, still on the floor barely past your doorframe. “Y/n, its ok. Let go.”  He coaxed. Perhaps that’s what you were waiting for because you finally sobbed. You broke down the way you’ve wanted to for years now. Never allowing yourself to truly to feel what you had so tightly tucked away. He held you there till you fell asleep from exhaustion, gently soothing you while running his left hand up and down your back. His right found its way into your hair, pressing your head further into the crook of his neck. “It’ll be alright, my love”. He cooed, carrying you off to bed. He had watched you through Mephisto’s eye the whole time like he always has.

It was torture for him to listen to your voicemail while you threw yourself at wanderer days in and day out. The jokey and joyful tone hurt like knives knowing you probably hadn’t spoken like that to anyone in weeks. “Hey, you’ve reached my phone. Now come and find me. Heh he. But seriously sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I’ll get back to ya.” You seemed so happy before. Of course, he knew of Caleb’s whereabouts. He had been subtly preparing you for the blow with lines like ‘careful who you trust from now on’ and ‘sometimes the closest to us may do the most harm’, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Here you were hurting in a way he couldn’t solve. With a heavy sigh, he called Zayne (his so-called rival) for help and your comfort. Zayne knew Caleb personally, he would soothe both of your worries.

 “Fuck”, Zayne hissed in response to the news over the phone. He was headed home after a long shift but made a very sharp U-turn back towards your apartment. “I’ll be there in a moment don’t alert Xavier." Sylus’s eyes grew wide at the responsive but quickly recovered. After 15 minutes of almost speeding, Zayne arrives in your apartment with an anger never seen before. “Is she alright. How long before that bastard arrives.” Zayne scans over the apartment for you while glancing back at Sylus for his answers. Sylus falls back into the much too small sofa letting out the sound of a sore old man. “She’s not well but she’s sleeping in the back. From what I heard, there’s five days before the fleet lands. He asked her to meet him in Sky haven. He sounded genuine but it’s still suspicious. Why wait til now.” Zayne nodded, busying himself in your kitchen. Tea would do little to calm them, but it was something. Anything to keep him from going over there himself and picking up a fight he knew only would hurt you more. “What was he like, when you knew him. Perhaps he’s had a motive this whole time?”

“Obsessive.” The doctor snorted. “The poor girl was smothered with him, but she saw nothing but her protective best friend. Pushed me away any chance he could.” It was now Sylus’s turn to laugh. “So, playing house never-ending well, I take?” The dark-haired man sighed into his mug. “Y/n had proudly declared me as her husband since she was 9, but Caleb said I should stay in my place as the friendly neighbor or the dog. You might be right. Any evidence pointing to Ever in this.” “Nothing concrete yet, but I’ll have something clear soon. He says checking on Mephisto’s camera feed from Sky Haven.

“I want to see” You croaked, voice still hoarse from crying earlier. Both men are up and near you in an instant. You wobble toward them light-headed and on bare feet, before nearly falling again. Zayne wins the ‘race’ this time, scooping you and bringing you to the loveseat to sit in his lap. Sylus follows the two of you back and pulls the screen again for you to see. The crimson-tinted screen shows gleaming city streets filled with lights. In the distance, silver towers glow like Christmas up above. Misty fog covering it all making it look like a hazy dream. “Lovely, do you think you should wait til you’re feeling better before you see him again?” Zayne asked you, his voice losing the bite it had just a moment before. “No, I won’t feel better til I see…him. I want to know what happened.” You said, eyes with tears welling up again. “Why he left me alone” The last part of that sentence was muffled into Zayne’s turtleneck. “I’m proud of, y/n” Zayne whispers into your hair. “You’ve been so strong through it all but its ok if you need more time, that’s perfectly fine.” “He’s right, Kitten.”

“Thank you, both of you. I would love to go back to thinking  he was gone and moving on, but I really need to see him. Maybe punch him a few times for pay back but still.” You attempt to joke but a few good hits would definitely help your feelings if you’re being serious. The rest of the night was spent with Zayne and Sylus doing their best to distract you by any means necessary. A silent truce leads to them teasing each other and doting on your head and foot. Two movies, a pile-it-up competition, and half a Hershey pie later, the three of you were tucked into your far too-small bed. But for two giants and you, you were more than happy to be squished.

One day before Touch Down

“Ok but if they ask me to sing, I’m gonna ugly cry.” You said finally grocery shopping again. Sylus had come along. After last time, He seemed the domesticity of it. “I would love to hear you sing again, sweetie but you aren’t capable of “ugly crying”. He jested, tossing another steak cut into your cart. “I’ll have you know y rendition of ‘At Last’ in college choir could kill a man, I won't even start about ‘Sweet Love’. Tears and all, mister.” “Oh, I’m sure.” Maybe everything will be okay after all. Watching you prepare for a dinner date like nothing occurred at all was nice but the sight of you breaking down like that would always be burned into his brain. He vowed that he’d always be there for you through good times and bad while you scanned the aisle for sweets. He heard you mutter something about deserving a cheat day more than anyone right now. You were right.

Moments Before Touch Down

The cold wind blasts through the fog ridden streets all around you. The taxi had let you in front of the command center as you requested but it was the long dreadful walk to the carrier bay that was miserable. The cruel fabric of your own dress blues did against the freezing air. The hunter dress code at its finest, the dark blue pencil skirt, blouse, and jacket was awful, Tara had always questioned what you had against the usual dress code, seeing your custom uniform outfitted with leather and pants no less. But you was right in end. This sucks ass.

The air was far too thin for your heart’s liking and the eerie glow of tech through the fog lighting on your way did little to comfort your nerves. Soon enough, the clearance stall was in sight with a man waiting with your name on a sign. He wore the same dress as blues Caleb used to when he first enlisted. “Hello miss y/ln, correct?” You gave a curt nod before putting on a smile. You were trying your hardest not to go numb again. You promised yourself and the boys that you would be ok and present. “Great, the colonel did make a last minute request of you.” You sighed, mentally prepared for whatever he could’ve thrown you now. “The colonel spoke about your singing to the higher ups and you’ve been invited to officially welcome the fleet home with a song.” “Shit” you mumbled beneath a cough saving to save face. If the officer had heard he played no mind. You had definitely jinxed it in the store, Sylus’s bad luck had rubbed off on you once again. Plastering a big smile, you spoke, far more chipper it was painful. “It would be a great honor, thank you.” You say through gritted teeth. “Wonderful, follow me.”

You now found on the highest step leading to the stage, highest seat on the bay as the ship finally touched down. Every bone in you body shivers and shakes. The breathes you now halted as they all file out by rank. Each group called out by squad name led by their colonel. A drone of names and codes you couldn’t hear above the sound of your own racing heart. None of the breathing exercises practiced with Zayne could help now. Only pressing on and waiting for the man who haunted you for years would bring any type of solace.

Once they had all stood in formation, a general comes and gives a speech about unity, the future, and whatever else is on his messy que cards. “And now a song from the Hunters associations’ very own, Y/n Y/ln to welcome us all home. You shot up scanning over the crowd. Suddenly your college recital was nothing compared to this. ‘Just another obstacle before I get to see him.’ You thought. The music starts and so do you.

At last, my love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

This was cruel. Sickening. He had to have known.

The skies above are blue

My heart is wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

A man pushes through the crowd towards the stage. His medals glimmering was he moves with fevor.

Oh, and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine

At last

Cheers and clapping filled the air and just as you said. Some of the officials are sobbing. You paid no mind as Bright purple eyes gleamed up at you. He stares at you in awe. As if you had put the clouds into skies that he had flown through for too long. He smiles the same grin he did back then. It was him. The colonel reaches out for you, eager to have you in arms once again. You jump without a second thought. God how you had missed him. How he had missed you. He needs you like air in his lungs. The tight embrace is bone-crushing on his part, but you could’ve asked for tighter. Anything was fine as long as he never let you go again. “Hello again, my little love” You smiled and giggled at the line. Cheeks are growing hot despite the cold chill around you. “Is it really you, Caleb?” You asked, hoping to stay in this blissful dream even if it wasn’t. “Of course, y/n. I’m back. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He laughs. The sound is heaven to your ears. Memories of a childhood together you had buried now come flooding back. “Ugh finally, as if I’d let you go. I might just kidnap you and take you home back with me.” You hiccup. And now it’s his turn to hang on to your words but he snorts and tightens his grasp. “You’ll never hear me complain about it.”  You shove a hand into your pocket to pull the silver chain. It shines between you two as you gently push him back earning a pout from him. The apple-accented dog chain would be united with its owner once again. “Tryna collar me, Princess?” He says already bending down for you. “Yup, then you’ll never run away again.”  You say, hooking the chain around his neck. “Lets get outta here, coffee?” Tears of his own threaten to fall as he speaks.

This was going far better than Caleb ever imagined it would. He’s sure you’ll knock him on his ass later and he sure as hell deserves it but for now, he’ll wrap you in his coat, scoop up and carry you off somewhere warm.

At last, both of you were finally had a home again.

[adoresia]

HOME RUN : LIKE THE WIND CHAPTER FOUR ;

LIKE A GUNSHOT

hey siri, play Never Be Like You by Flume

series masterlist | more JJK

⬅️ back / next ➡️

CW // none? Lolz

WC // 0.8k

The stadium buzzed with the electrifying tension of a game nearing its end. Yuta sat at the edge of his seat, the melted remnants of his soda sat forgotten beside him. The game had been neck-and-neck, and as the final inning approached, all hope to bring this home seemed to be on you.

Down on the field, a player on the opposite team waved toward their section of the bleachers. Her grin was wide, self-assured, and a little too sharp. Yuta instinctively waved back, with a smile of course, he could recognise who it was from a mile away. What kind of friend would he be of he didn’t?

He leaned toward Toge, his brow furrowed. “Oh wait I lowkey forgot the whole reason we’re here, look” he pointed, squinting at the diamond. “She transferred just for the game? Crazy” Toge muffled while shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Yeah she told me, I thought it was insane but,” Yuta shrughed, eyes narrowing as he thought back to their conversation. “I promised I’d talk to her after the game.”

His focus was quickly pulled back to the field as she strutted confidently toward the mound, ready to field your next hit. The air grew tense, Rika on the opposite team shot you a smug look, her confidence radiating in the way she rolled her shoulders. “Don’t think you’re so special, L/n. One good hit doesn’t mean you’re the heart of the game,” she taunted, her voice dripping with arrogance.

You recognised Rika, It would be concerning if you didn’t, her ego followed her everywhere — it was so big you could see it coming before her.

You simply smiled, adjusting your stance. “I’m not like you. Rika.” you replied calmly, your tone carrying an effortless edge. “I don’t care about being better than you, I just need to win this game.”

Rika’s smirk wavered ever so slightly, and the crowd quieted in anticipation. You stepped up to the plate, your grip tightening on the bat as you glanced at the field; calculating. The pitcher wound up, their arm cutting through the air with practiced precision as the ball came hurtling toward you once again.

The moment stretched in slow motion. You tracked the ball with sharp focus, your body moving fluidly as you swung. The crack of the bat meeting the ball was sharp and pure, a perfect connection that sent the ball soaring high and fast.

Yuta’s heart skipped a beat, or maybe two as he followed the arc of the ball, which cut through the air like a bullet. It sailed over the outfielders, who could do nothing but watch as it cleared the fence entirely.

Another home run.

The crowd erupted, an unstoppable wave of cheers and applause rolling through the stadium. You sprinted around the bases, every movement precise yet effortless. The way you carried yourself confident but not arrogant, focused yet still having fun made it impossible to look away. By the time you slid into home plate, your teammates swarmed you, their cheers blending into the roar of the crowd.

Back on the field, Rika stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and frustration, her earlier confidence completely shattered. She scowled, muttering something under her breath as she walked back to her position.

“Hell yeah!” Yuji shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd. “This is the most insane thing I’ve ever seen,” Yuta uttered without thinking, his eyes glued to you as you laughed and high-fived your teammates. “Bro’s whipped,” Toge teased, snickering. Rika’s glare burned into you from across the field, you could feel it — but you didn’t seem to notice, or maybe you just didn’t care. The poise and calm you exuded were undeniable and it only seemed to annoy her more. Yuta noticed her irritation and felt a pang of curiosity. Did she know you?

The final moments of the game were just as electrifying. With the score tied, you stepped up to bat one last time. Rika moved to field once again, her irritation now replaced by a steely determination to stop you. The ball came hurtling toward you, but this time it was faster, sharper, meant to intimidate. You didn’t flinch. Your swing was powerful, almost effortless, the crack of the bat echoing like a gunshot. The ball rocketed into the sky, higher and farther than anyone had expected. It cleared the outfield with ease, sailing over the fence and into the parking lot beyond.

Cheers and applause thundered through the stadium as you rounded the bases once more, your teammates waiting at home plate with wide grins and open arms. The energy in the stadium was electric, the kind of moment that stayed with people long after the game ended. As the game concluded, with your team taking the win, Yuta was sat frozen, both shocked and unsure on what to say or do.

The game ended with a buzz of excitement, the air electric from the win. Yuta’s eyes trailed after you as you jogged off the field, your helmet tucked under your arm, your hair slightly mussed but still managing to frame your radiant smile perfectly. “You know you might aswell say something to her now,” Yuji grinned, leaning forward. “This is like the first time i’ve ever seen her, your acting like this is love at first sight” Yuta grumbled, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “She’s just a really good player, that’s all there is to it.”

“I’ve never seen this much glaze in my life.” Toge smirked, leaning back with his arms crossed. “You’ve been burning holes into her this whole game. There’s no way she didn’t notice you dude.”“Talking about her plays like you’re on commentary duty or something. Get up off your knees.” Yuji chimmed in.

“Well I mean? did you see that double play in the sixth?” Yuta leaned forward with too much excitement, like the scenes kept replaying in his mind over and over again like an Ipod stuck on replay. “She made it look so easy…”

“Do you even know what a sixth is…?” Megumi asked. “My ears are bleeding please stop.” Toge slapped both of his palms over his ears in agony. “You need to Calm down, I don’t want to walk into your room and see pictures of her invading your walls…” Megumi sighed in agreement.

Before Yuta could respond, a familiar voice chirped behind them. “Yuta!” The group collectively froze, heads snapping around to see Rika approaching, her expression bright but her smile just a little too tight. Toge upped the strength on the hands he had covering his ears so hard he almost started bleeding.

“Hey, Rika,” Yuta greeted, his tone polite but distracted. His gaze flickered briefly toward her before returning to the field. “I saw you watching from all the way down there.” she said pointing down to the diamond, stepping uncomfortably closer to him. Her voice a touch louder than necessary. “What’d you think of the game? We didn’t win but I lowkey carried.” “Oh, yeah,” Yuta said absently, nodding. “You did okay.” “O-kay…?” Rika’s smile faltered, but Yuta didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, but number 13 was fucking insane. Her batting, her fielding… it was crazy.”

“Her?” Rika’s voice sharpened slightly, her eyes narrowing, ultimately thinking back to number 13 on the field.. you. “Yeah, you know,” Yuji chimed in, barely hiding his smirk. “The one who pretty much carried the whole game.”

“She was unreal, as much as it’s killing me to hear Yuta going on and on about it.” Toge added, shaking his head as though in disbelief. Rika’s lips pressed into a thin line, her patience clearly wearing thin. She opened her mouth to retort, but Yuta’s attention had already drifted again. His eyes widened slightly as he spotted you a few rows away, running up to Maki and Nobara.

You were laughing, breathless from the game, and Maki grinned as she pulled you into a quick, casual hug. “Your actually insane what the fuck,” she said in absolute disbelief of your play, not for the first time either. “Litterally,” Kugisaki agreed, her eyes glinting with pride. “The way you caught that thingy in the eighth inning? I almost kissed Maki.” She made the gesture dramatically. “Why the hell would you say that. I’m never sitting next to you at a game again.”“Guysss, It was all instinct,” you joked, shrugging. “But thank you, it was all for you guys but whatever.” She smiled “Aww shucks I feel so special.” Kugisaki held onto her chest dramaticaly, wiping away fake tears.

From his seat, Yuta was completely transfixed. The warmth in your laughter, the ease in your movements — it was all so magnetic, even from a distance. Kugisaki’s gaze flickered to the stands, catching sight of Yuta and his friends. She nudged you with her elbow “Omg look, I told you I wasn’t crazy! It’s the guy who was staring before.” “Huh?” You followed her gaze, spotting him almost immediately. His awkward wave made you laugh softly. “Oh my gosh him?! I could literally feel his eyes on me the whole game.”

Maki snickered. “He looks like he’s about to pass out now that you’re looking at him.” “Well, I guess I should be nice then,” you said, flashing a bright smile in Yuta’s direction before lifting your hand in a casual wave. Yuta froze for a second too long before managing to wave back, his movements clumsy but endearing. “Yikes,” Toge muttered under his breath, watching the scene unfold. “We’ve officially lost him guys,” Yuji added, grinning.

Rika, meanwhile, had reached her limit. She cleared her throat loudly, forcing Yuta’s attention back to her. “Well, anyway,” her tone clipped, “thanks for coming to watch. I’m glad someone noticed me out there.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and walked off.

As the group watched her go, Yuji leaned closer to Toge. “When you think your the main character but its actually me.” Toge turned to him. “Who even are you?” But Yuta barely registered the exchange. His gaze remained locked on you as you laughed with your friends, your happiness lighting up the evening like a firework. In that moment, as the crowd began to disperse and the sun dipped lower on the horizon, he realized just how much better you looked up close.

He sank back into his seat, heart racing, your smile etched into his mind. Somehow, even after everything, you’d left him even more mesmerized than before.

Hmm. Does Rika like Yuta?? Guess we’ll find out in FRIDAY’S. episode of hrltw 🤗🤗

One thing I will say though is that they’ve been friends since they were kids, and you’ll find out why and how that happened xxx

Also Rika used to be on their school’s baseball team but she left because she thought she was too good for it and joined another college/uni (guys idk im aware i mostly have american mutuals on here so atp its up to your interpretation where they’re at)

Rika and you are opps and have always been opps because she’s a bit odd

idk why megumi wants to be so nonchalant about knowing you

Taglist ! : @shokosbunny @fushiguruuzzzz @blu3-l0v3r @lizbix @anonnieghost @juneii3 @madison777x @jvpit3rr @cup1dsh0t @potteraep @anotherwriternamedclara @cinnamxnangel @raven-nevra @s777athv @sunnie21 @cutiestawberries @evilari111 @shitoke-mushrooms-1128 @luluminati

19/50

If your user is in bold I couldn’t tag you because of your settings!!

Sia here ! : hey guys. Lol. Im going to crash the fuck out why the FUCK IS THIS POSTED??? TUMBLR COUNT YOUR DAYS WTF. THIS WAS SCHEDULED FOR THURSDAY. DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THURSDAY TO YOU TUNBLR??? DOES IT LOOKN LIKE THURTSAY. Watch this flop. Pls reblog for me guys ❤️

[unicyclehippo]

Hey, Ollie, you mentioned AGES ago that Show Me the Way Home (Avatrice) had a second chapter, it just wasn't perfect yet-- do you think you'll ever post it? Or is that officially an abandoned fic?

its not abandoned, i actually did some minor editing on it the other day. the problem is that its a very seasonally locked piece in my mind & also im lazy & also a perfectionist & also i want to watch wn again before i keep writing it bc i need to rmbr what the characters are like & basically any one of those obstacles are enough to shut me right down so.

it actually is a four part story & if u want, i can share a little with u now? maybe that'll make me feel better for not posting it yet lmao

thursday 22nd december

// 6:55 //

Beatrice stood by the doorway of her apartment, phone in hand and duffel bag at her feet, and wished she was already at her parent’s holiday home. 

It wasn’t that she thought their reunion would be simple or pleasant; it was more that today had started hot and was getting hotter and her parents kept their home at a crisp twenty-three degrees at all hours of the day and night, environmental impact be damned. As the humidity clung to her, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck, Beatrice’s thoughts drifted to the crystal blue pool and the ocean wind that would blow up from the cove and she checked her phone again for any word from her driver. 

Camila’s voice travelled from the kitchen. ‘Maybe you should take the can opener with you. I mean, what if you need to open a can and you don’t have one? There might be beans. Baked beans, cannellini beans, red kidney beans.’

‘I’m sure my parents have one. They do have a kitchen. And a personal chef.’

Camila heard her. The apartment was too small for her not to have heard but she continued listing off every tinned item she could think of. 

‘Lentils, obviously. Diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes, peeled tomatoes, puréed tomatoes.’ There was a long pause. Beatrice wondered if Camila was reading the labels of what they had in the pantry; if she was, those lentils had been there for a very long time. ‘Tinned peaches.’

‘I think those come with a tab now,’ Beatrice pointed out. She kept her voice mild, not really wanting to draw Camila’s attention to her hiding place by the door. 

At some point over the last few days, the nerves buzzing under Beatrice’s skin had jumped ship and now Camila was the one pacing the confines of their apartment. She’d picked over every inch of the house in search of things Beatrice might need—which ranged from the useful, like the good phone charger she’d “found” (definitely hadn’t stolen out of her room a month ago) to what could be charitably called not useful, like the can opener—and now she stood at the end of the hall bearing the can opener and a dark frown befitting a serial killer. 

Beatrice cleared her throat. Carefully, she said, ‘I really don’t think I need it.’

Camila looked down at her weapon. ‘Oh. Right. No, sure, of course not.’ She tossed it backward into the living room; it missed the couch, landing instead on the floor with a loud thud, the sound of their rental bond being instantly halved. Beatrice winced. Camila seemed not to have noticed, though, and with her hands now empty she returned to chewing nervously at her thumb nail. She scanned the living room, hawkish, before fixing her attention on Beatrice once more. 

‘Can I help you?’

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

‘Camila…’

‘Because you don’t have to. You know that, don’t you? It’s not your only option—you could come home with me again! My parents would love it, we’d all love it, I promise. And you wouldn’t be intruding at all, I swear. The boys ask about you all the time and when you’re coming to visit again.’

‘They’re very sweet.’

‘Sweet! When they want something, sure! They’re still hoping you’ll teach them how to throw people—they bring up your match with Conner every time I call home.’

‘Tell them I’ll think about it.’

‘That can be your Christmas present for them. And Pop, he says you’re the only good one of the bunch.’

‘It’s because I don’t talk.’

‘I know. Poor guy. Christmas in a household of me’s. It’s so loud we have to mime everything for him.’

Beatrice smiled. ‘He turns off his hearing aids.’

‘What? That sneak!’

‘Don’t tell him I was the one that dobbed him in.’

‘It’ll be the very first thing I say—then you won’t be his favourite anymore and the rest of us will have a fair shot.’ Laughter shone in her eyes; it faded a little as she stared at Beatrice, gaze flicking down to the duffel at her feet. ‘I’m serious, Bea. You could call up your parents and tell them you’re not coming anymore. I’d prefer you tell them to go fuck themselves but.’ She sucked in a breath, shook her head. ‘Bea. Don’t waste your time on them. Spend your holiday with people who want you around. Who love you.’

It was a tempting offer. Of course it was.

From the day they met, Camila had been Beatrice’s friend; from the second, her sister. She’d gone out of her way to be all that a sister could be—kind, understanding, supportive, deeply irritating—and offered it all without cost. Her family was just the same. 

Beatrice remembered last Christmas fondly. The singing, the laughter, her chair squashed up to the end of the table next to Camila’s, the friendly chatter, the elbows bumping, the squabbles breaking out, the yet more guests arriving and pulling up a chair, the pass the salt, pass the butter, pass the damn water would you I’m dying over here, where’s the champagne, Arthur we don’t need another bottle of champagne it’s not even midday for Christssake, Beatrice do you want a second serve help yourself sweetheart, when do we open the presents. It had been loud, sometimes overwhelming, and wonderful all the same. 

But. 

Beatrice shook her head. 

Camila sighed. ‘I had to try, obviously.’

‘I know. Thank you.’ She set her hand on Camila’s wrist and squeezed. ‘I appreciate it, very much. Please tell them… Please tell everyone I miss them and that I’ll see them soon.’

‘You mean for your surprise birthday party?’

Beatrice smiled. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Good. Because mum’s going to need a menu from you—’

‘I thought we agreed we’d buy the food, Camila, I’m not making your mum cook for me.’

‘She likes to cook for her kids. Unless you want me to tell her you’d prefer eating a stranger’s food over hers?’ Beatrice scowled at the bold threat. ‘That’s what I thought. Pick what you want and I’ll tell her. Better yet, text her yourself.’

‘If I know your mother, she has something in mind already.’

‘More like eleven somethings.’ 

They shared an identical grin. Camila’s mother had a small habit of going overboard for parties and events. A buzz broke the moment. They both glanced down at Beatrice’s phone. 

Mr. Morris I have arrived

Beatrice Thank you. I will be there momentarily.

Beatrice nodded. This was it. She slid her phone into her pocket. ‘Mister Morris is here. I should go.’ To Camila’s suddenly stricken expression, she soothed, ‘It will be fine, Camila.’ And, because she was not completely oblivious to Camila’s concern, ‘I will be fine.’

‘I know that. Of course I know that. But I want—you don’t have to be just fine. You should be having fun. You’re my best friend, Bea, I want you to be happy.’

Beatrice paused. She struggled for a moment to think of a way to explain the purpose of this holiday to Camila, explain her purpose, in a way that she would understand and accept. 

‘It means so much,’ she began, carefully, ‘to be welcome in your family. But they will always be your family.’

‘Bea…’

‘You and they are all beyond generous.’ She held up a hand to stop Camila interrupting. ‘I know they love me, and I love them. I do love Christmas with your family. It’s always wonderful and comfortable and fun.’ She paused, considering her words. ‘But this is - this is about me,’ she admitted with difficulty, and was rewarded for the effort when Camila softened. ‘I want to go. I need to find out whether I have a place with them or not. And I’ve been so uncertain of how it might turn out that I haven’t tried. But this invitation is an opportunity. One would like to make the most of.’

Camila grabbed both of her hands and pulled her close. Very intensely, she said, ‘Okay.'

'Okay? Just like that?' Beatrice asked, doubtful.

'Yeah. I’m not going to say I understand because I don’t. It honestly makes me furious and a little bit sick to think of you going back to them. But I love you and I trust you and I want you to call me if you need anything. And whatever happens, Beatrice, you always have a place with me. Always.’

Beatrice smiled. Shifted so that she was the one holding Camila’s hands. Her friend wouldn’t let her go willingly and there was a big part of Beatrice that wanted to let herself be held tight and give in to her friend’s protectiveness, to be bundled safely up into Camila’s terrifying little car and trundling off to visit family. 

It was hard to pull free. 

Beatrice stepped back and opened the door.

‘There’s no need to fret, Camila. I’ll have Ava with me, remember?’

‘Yeah. I know. It’ll be great, you’ll see.’ The tightness around her eyes told Beatrice she didn’t quite believe her own words. ‘And you’ll call me.’

‘Every day.’

With one last hug, Beatrice picked up her bags and left. 

// 7:03 //

The town car waited for her outside the apartment. It was sleek and black, washed and polished; the only evidence of the recent storms were faint specks of grey mud deep in the tyre wells.

Beatrice stopped at the bottom of the stairs, observing the car and its driver—Mister Morris, patiently stood at the kerb—and swallowed around a lump in her throat. He looked the same as when she had left. A little more silver in his hair.

He might not have changed much but she had. Now that she was grown (or perhaps, now that she was not in that household), she found herself full of questions—where was it that Mister Morris had driven from? Where did he live? Had the storms been bad on his side of town? How had he passed the time? Had they lost power? (She and Camila had huddled in their living room—it was, Camila had insisted, the perfect weather for a marathon of gory slashers—and the rain had hammered against the windows with frightening strength but had done no damage. She knew others had not been so fortunate.) Most pressing of all, how had he been? Questions that could not be answered by hiding.

Beatrice gripped the strap of her duffel and, setting her shoulders, marched to meet him.

‘Good morning, Mister Morris.’

‘Miss Turner,’ he greeted her, his smile small but true. ‘A pleasure to see you again. How are you?’

‘Quite well, thank you.’ Then, keeping her tone light and brisk, ‘And yourself?’

‘Very well, Miss Turner. Very well.’ It looked as if he wanted to say something more but then he only smiled and cleared his throat. ‘Your luggage, Miss?’

‘I can see to it myself.’

Beatrice stashed her duffel in the boot then folded herself neatly into the backseat. Mr. Morris retook the driver’s seat. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Beatrice fixed her eyes on the headrest in front of her.

‘We have another stop to make, Mr Morris.’

‘Yes, miss. Do you have the address?’

‘I do.’ She ran a finger along the inside of her watchband, rubbing away the sweat that had gathered there. She made it a notch tighter, then loosened once more. ‘They are - That is to say, she is my—’

Mr. Morris met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. His were green and kind. The kindness did not make it easier to say.

‘She is my girlfriend.’ 

‘Yes. I know.’

‘Oh.’

‘Though your mother used slightly different terminology. Companion, I believe she said.’ He kept his eyes locked onto the rearview mirror. When Beatrice glanced into it again, he said warmly, ‘Congratulations, miss. That’s wonderful. I’m very glad to hear it.’

When she had been younger, there had been a stretch of time where running away had seemed very appealing. Each time she attempted it, Beatrice had never made it further than the park four streets from her home. She’d been too pragmatic, even at ten years old, but she’d also been stubborn so Beatrice had say there in the swing until someone noticed; whomever did notice, it was always Mr. Morris who collected her. She was reminded of it as he started the engine. The sound of its growl scared old memories out of hiding—she remembered how the plastic swing creaked, the feel of the metal chain in her little hands, how the gravel of the park entry had crunched beneath the town car tyres. How the headlights had washed over her and away with the tilt of his park and how invisible she’d felt when the lights turned off. Like a ghost haunting the playground.

Beatrice stared thoughtfully at his back, remembering how he would climb out of the car and sit next to her on a too-small swing until she’d been ready to return.

‘Thank you, Mr Morris.’

He nodded. Then, ‘I do still need her address, miss.’

‘Oh. Yes, of course.’

[hungermakesmonsters]

✨✨Congrats on 500 followers!!! ✨✨

I know you only just finished red ribbon but my request is that I would love to know if bunny goes back to working for Billy and if she does is he be able to keep his hands to himself or would he cause problems?? 😂

😅😅😅OF COURSE BILLY WOULD CAUSE PROBLEMS AND NOT KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF!! no but seriously, I actually really wanted to put a scene like this in The Red Ribbon because (as far as I've planned for a second series) she does go back to work for Billy. So, I really enjoyed writing this silly little thing, I hope you enjoy reading it!!

Better At You

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Fic Universe : The Red Ribbon

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour.  

He sat hunched over his desk, elbows braced on the wooden surface, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. You’d heard more than enough through the door to know that his meeting with his business partner Frank had not gone well. So, once Frank had made his exit, you had decided to go check on Billy.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you rounded his desk and perched on the edge of it beside him.

“Fine,” he grumbled, not even bothering to look up at you.

For a few seconds you hesitated, carefully considering your next move. You’d both agreed that work needed to be separate, that you needed to remain professional but, after two weeks, you were already starting to struggle.

“No you’re not,” you said, finally reaching a decision. “You barely slept last night, you skipped breakfast, and all you’ve had since getting to the office is a coffee.”

As you spoke, you dared to place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the uncomfortable tension that filled his body.

“You’re supposed to be my PA, not my mother,” he snapped, pulling away from your hand.

It was the first time he’d snapped at you in weeks, the first time since you’d started your relationship. And, for a moment you were frozen, shocked by his little outburst. Then you shook your head and stood - he’d agreed that he wouldn’t snap anymore, that he’d never take his shitty mood out on you at work.

A second later, he realised what he’d done and, before you could walk away, his hand was on your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

“Bunny, I’m - I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “You’re right, I didn’t sleep and I feel like shit, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“You promised me that -”

“I know. I know I did,” he sighed. “I’m trying, it’s just... Frank says we’re gonna have to get the Feds and maybe Homeland involved to find out just how deep this thing with Rawlin’s goes, and -”

“That’s no reason to snap at me.”

“I know. Fuck - I know. I’m sorry, Bunny.”

You knew that he meant it, that he really was sorry, and that was enough. At least, for now. 

Stepping closer, you reached for him, your hand cupping his cheek tenderly. Despite your agreements to keep things professional, you couldn’t help but want to comfort him. He finally relaxed a little at your touch, and that made you feel a little better.

“I don’t suppose I could talk you into cancelling the rest of your meetings, leaving early and going home to get some sleep?” You asked, your voice turning low, worried that someone might overhear you even though you knew there was no one else on the floor.

“Depends, are you offering to come home with me?” He asked just as softly.

“I have all that paperwork to finish filing, remember? Besides, if I go home with you, the last thing you’re gonna do is sleep.”

His hand on your wrist gave a gentle tug, pulling you closer, until you were standing between his legs. Then both of his hands found their way to your hips.

“We agreed we weren’t going to do this at the office,” you said, reminding him of your agreement while simultaneously completely ignoring it by letting your fingers slip into his hair.

Billy’s eyes closed and he let out a sigh, leaning into your touch.

As much as you believed it was a bad idea to let your personal lives and feelings bleed into work, seeing him like that, finally able to relax a little, left you with no doubt in your mind; he needed you.

He pulled you closer and, before you could stop to think about it, you were kissing him. A switch flipped inside you when he let out that first little groan against your lips, and it stopped being about what you shouldn’t do and became more about what he obviously needed

When the kiss broke, you slowly dropped to your knees in front of him, all the while holding his gaze.

“Bunny...” there was a warning in his tone, but something else too. Pleading.

“We’ll be quick,” you told him as you tugged open his belt and started on the fastenings of his pants. “Besides, your next meeting isn’t for twenty minutes.”

Whatever Billy wanted to say died on his lips the moment you reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. You watched as he licked his lips and sank back in his chair, putting himself completely in your hands, both literally and figuratively. 

You started slowly, stroking his cock and watching as it got harder, revelling in the way that Billy’s breath caught. You’d never known a man so needy, a man who craved your every touch as if he’d never been touched before. Honestly, you weren’t sure if it was you or if Billy had always been that way, but you liked to think it was all for you.

His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, the tip quickly starting to leak. And the sounds - god, the sounds spilling from him made you feel like the most powerful person in the world.

“Fuck,” he groaned at the feeling of your lips wrapping around him.

You almost smiled as you sank lower, taking more of him into your mouth, keeping your fist wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking what you couldn’t take.

You started slowly, toying with him, dragging your lips up and down his shaft, tracing patterns on his skin with your tongue until you felt his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Bunny,” he muttered, voice little more than a low growl.

Despite his grip on you, Billy knew better than to apply pressure. As desperate as he might have felt, he knew that you were in complete control, and he knew just how much that control meant to you.

Glancing up, you met his gaze and still for a moment, the tip of his cock in your mouth while your hand continued to stroke him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he groaned. “So fucking beautiful, Bunny,”

More little affirmations started to fall from him as your lips started to move again, this time bobbing your head faster and with more purpose, knowing that you’d finally gotten him to relax. 

And that felt good. No, it felt amazing.

You’d realised pretty quicking that it was what Billy needed in his life, it was what you wanted to give him. He saw you as a person, cared about you and cherished your time together, and you - you wanted to give him the happiness and stability that he craved. Maybe eventually there would be more, maybe in time the feeling in the pit of your stomach would even  become love. But, for now, this was enough.

“Bunny,” he gasped, his fingers tightening in your hair - not a lot, but enough to let you know he was getting close.

You didn’t stop. Instead you doubled down, working your lips faster on his cock, gripping him a little tighter with your hand. 

Again you looked up at him, catching the look of sheer pleasure and desperation on his face.

“Bun -” 

He grunted as he started to come undone in your mouth, and you held him there, still stroking him until he was completely spent.

When you finally pulled back and looked up at him, you couldn’t help but grin; his eyes were closed and tension and worry had left his face. If you didn’t know him better, you might have said it looked like he’d just been through a life-changing experience. 

His fingers slipped from your hair and back to your cheek again as he finally opened his eyes and looked at you.

“So much for not doing that at the office,” he said playfully, tucking himself back into his pants.

“It was an emergency,” you shrugged. “I couldn’t have you turning into a cranky asshole and taking it out on everyone.”

“Oh, so that was a public service blowjob?” Billy asked, grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Exactly. In fact, you could even say I’m a superhero.”

“That’s quite a superpower you’ve got - though, I don’t think they’ll be asking you to join the Avengers anytime soon.”

“Their loss, I’m actually also really good at -”

The sound of someone clearing their throat had Billy glancing towards his office door, his eyes going wide. You couldn’t see who it was until you scrambled off your knees and stood again, quickly brushing your skirt down.

Frank Castle, Billy’s business partner, had come back.

Your cheeks warmed quickly, leaving you feeling like you were about to spontaneously combust.

“I, uh -” you tried to think, tried to come up with something to say, “- I’ll see if I can find something to stop your chair from squeaking, Mr Russo.”

And, with that, you quickly rushed out of the office, trying very hard not to make eye contact with either man on your way out.

[sgtbradfords]

Hi, lovely! Could you write something with Tim being worried about Lucy because of Seth, and saying something to her along the lines of "He's going to get you killed, Lucy."?

Lucy's hand trembles as she pulls her dirty undershirt out of her locker, quickly shoving it into her bag. "You don't think I don't know that?"

“Obviously you don't, otherwise he wouldn't still be pulling stupid stunts like the death wish he had today!”

She thinks about slamming the door of her locker closed and even fleetingly considers storming off. But instead of giving in to what she wants, Lucy takes a deep breath in through her nose and counts to five. She knows that what Seth did today was stupid and since he’s her rookie, she was partially responsible for his actions. But that knowledge doesn’t make things any easier. 

Lucy twists her body to look at Tim for the first time since he stormed into the women's locker room. 

Though his shoulders are taut, and his facial expressions are hardened, it's the tone of the truth that slips past his lips that gives him away. He's scared, but his unadulterated fear was different from her own, which still chilled her to her bones. 

"Could you please not?" There's a burning sensation behind her eyes as her throat constricts with a harsh swallow. She's not going to cry, not here, not now, but she doesn't have it in her to cover the tremble of her voice. "I don't need a lecture from you right now."

She just wants this day to be over. More than that, she just wants to go home. 

Tim's next words were uttered into existence with a voice that was much quieter, softer, than before. 

"Lucy."

“What." The word comes out harsher than she intended it to, but right now, she doesn't give a shit. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" 

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” 

Tim takes a step forward. “Are you okay?”

"Not really." Lucy rasps. She wasn't okay, not in the least. 

The sigh Tim releases is immense as he drops the bag on his shoulder to the ground. "Come here." 

Lucy only thinks about it for a moment before she takes one step forward to find comfort in his open arms. She wraps her arms over his shoulders and around his back, closing her eyes. She can’t help but think that it’s a little pathetic how quickly she melts into his warmth as she takes a deep breath in, inhaling the same scent that the shirt she wears to bed every night once held. 

"I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry." His breath is warm against the nape of her neck as he whispers. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“You’re already doing it.” For the first time in what felt like hours, Lucy finds herself relaxing. "Grey said we would finish handling it in the morning, I just wish Seth's career didn't have to end this way."

"There was no other choice to make. You did everything you could, but the kid was a walking liability. It was only a matter of time before he got you, himself, or a civilian, killed." 

Lucy pulls away at the thought. She doesn't have to tell him just how close her former boot had come to achieving two out of the three today. 

"Look, I know things have been a bit chaotic recently,” She says as Tim takes a step back to retrieve his bag that had been abandoned. “But we still haven't had that conversation you promised me a few weeks ago."

Tim raises his brow with a curious grin. "No, no, we haven't. What did you have in mind?" 

"There’s a new pet-friendly restaurant with outdoor seating a couple of blocks from here. I was thinking that maybe you could go grab Kojo, and we could finally have that talk." 

The door of the locker room swings open, but neither of them pays the person any mind. 

"Are you sure?" 

Without hesitation, Lucy nods. Was she still shaken up over the events that had transpired today? Yes. But she knows she can be traumatized with a glass of wine in her hand, a plate of food on the table in front of her, and her favorite canine sleeping at her feet. 

“Ask me that again, and you’ll be the one buying me a glass of wine.” She teases with a grin. The threat is empty and they both know it. In all actuality, Lucy appreciates the concern. 

Tim rolls his eyes, though his smile ultimately betrays him. "Text me the address."

Lucy hums in acknowledgement as he walks away. The better portion of her day may have been shit, but at least her evening was looking up.

AO3 Link Here!

[sanyu-thewitch05]

What if F! Yuu’s Dad got transported to Twst with her: The Black AF Remix

Getting into a car crash in your city known for terrible drivers was to be expected

Waking up in a common with an uber cute cat was not to be expected.

🦀: Where are we?….

All your father needed to see was the numerous white kids in hoods to let him know to run to safety with you.

🦀: Yuu, run! We’ve been captured by the Klan!

You burst out the coffin holding Grim and run out the ceremony much to the confusion of everyone.

🐦‍⬛: Umm, excuse me. Do you two need some help? We don’t know who these Klan people are that you’re running from, but I can assure you we are very honorable people.

Your father looks at Kalim, Jamil, Jack, and Leona and relaxes a bit.

🦀: Ok, do you know where we are?

🐦‍⬛: You’re in Twisted Wonderland and in the prestigious school of Night Raven Academy-

🦀: And how do we get away from here and back home to X-city?

🐦‍⬛: We can find a way to bring you two home, but it will take time. In the meantime, you can stay at one of our dorms.

🦐: Ooh, Dad, I bet it’s better than a room at the four seasons.

You were wrong. Significantly wrong.

🦀: Stop the cap! Where is that unseasoned bird?!

🦐: He’s gone.

You two are forced to walk into Ramshackle and upon seeing the ghosts, your father immediately walks out and closes the door.

🦀: I’m not dealing with three murderous white ghosts today. Come on, we’re heading down to the town.

Unfortunately, with no way of knowing where town is, you’re forced to fight the ghosts with your father. You win and look at Ramshackle in disgust.

🦐: I guess we’ll stay upstairs…

Your father, Grim, and you go upstairs and find the lousy rooms with just the basic of furniture and a proper bed.

🦀: I hope this place has a washing machine. Come on, let’s strip the bed.

After hand washing the bed sheets, you relax on your bed, and notice a pale boy with horns in the garden. You sneak out and talk to him.

🦀: So, Grimmy, where did you come from?

🐈‍⬛: Yuu’s with some boy outside.

🦀: WHO THE DEVIL IS THAT AND WHY IS HE IS TALKING TO YOU DURING THE WEE HOURS OF THE MORNING?!

Your father leaps out of bed and breaks up the conversation you’re having with Malleus.

🐉: So that cap on your is a bonnet and it protects your head-

🦀: Who the hell are you and why are you talking to my daughter?!

🦐: Dad, this is Tsunotaro.

🦀: That is the most dumbest thing I’ve heard. What’s your actual name?

🐉: I can’t give you that. But luckily, your daughter has decided to name me, Tsunotaro. It’s a lovely name, don’t you think?

🦀: Boy, do I look like Boo Boo the Fool to you?

🐉: I don’t understand the question. Who is this Boo Boo the Fool? Is he a clown or jester of some sorts?

Your father rolls his eyes and leads you back inside. He locks your windows, and closes the curtains.

🦀: Yuu, why were you talking to him?

🦐: He seemed interesting and looked like he knew his way around here. I figured he might be able to help.

🦀: I…you know what…just go to sleep. Grim, you keep an eye on her.

You do as your father says and begin your first day at NRC.

Your father absolutely hated it once he found out how weird the staff was. He actually liked Sam.

That’s when the trouble with Heartslabyul begins.

Your father disliked Ace and Deuce as friends mainly because they were too pugnacious for his liking.

Then Ace’s troubles with Riddle began and it set your father off.

♥️: Hi, Yuu, you don’t mind if I stay in your dorm until my issue with Riddle is resolved?

🦐: Don’t worry, you’re welcome to stay.

♥️: So, you don’t mind if I sleep in the same bed as you, do you? I promise I won’t take up much space-

🦀: Get out, white boy!

♥️: But-

🦀: Out! Now! Honkey begone!

And so, Ace ended sleeping on the front steps of Heartslabyul.

@queen-shiba