#c. Waste Bin Tag
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Soup Kitchen
Prologue =-= Next
Author's note: Su'cona's debut in Husbandry.
Warnings: Let me know if I need to add any.
Summary: Su'cona is lost and found. Soup Kitchens are a nice thing.
Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,
Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k
Su'cona had been wandering on this planet for a while, he's kept count of the days, he's tried to send a message on the Vox and all he'd gotten back was static and he'd been glad to find some form of civilization, but none of the base line humans spoke any of the languages that he knew.
He'd listen to them quietly, he'd run out of rations, hydration and nutrition three days ago, and his stomach had started to complain to him loudly. Also his headache was reaching a wicked crescendo, as it made light of the sun, or artificial light agonizing, even with his helmet protecting his face.
He stopped as he smelled something really good and his stomach gurgled angrily at him as he headed towards the source of the delicious smell. There were a bunch of base line humans, some were nicely dressed and handing out brown paper bags filled with food, to humans that had a much rougher appearance.
He slowly, carefully approaches, there was also a nearly free standing cooking area that had a large cauldron of soup happily burbling and one of the humans who were in nearly identical uniform of some kind was carefully ladling out soup into bowls that other humans were gratefully taken with the paper bag of longer shelf-life lasting food.
One of the people handing out the free food spots him and gives him a bright smile and waves him over. Su'cona carefully approaches them with a tilt of his helmet and they offer him a steaming bowl of soup and the bag of food, a fruit, some vegetables, a sandwich of some kind in sealed plastic, and a metal can filled with something carbonated.
He gratefully accepts both things, even though he knows that it won't be nearly enough calories to fill his belly full, at least it will do something to keep the hunger partially at bay.
He takes of his helmet and murmurs, "Thank you kind one."
They babble at him and he nods to them, as he sits down and carefully eats the soup, it tastes so good, it's warm, hot and filled with vegtables and some kind of meat, the texture reminds him of poultry.
Then, he carefully eats the sandwhich, fruit, a bright red skinned fruit that was about half the size of his palm. He bites into it, eating half of it in one go, its sweet and crunchy and he finishes it swiftly. While the vegtables are a bright-dark green and have the taste of clorophil and growing things.
The metal can that has the metal drink is colorful, and he can tell that there is writing on it, but he doesn't read the local language, so he cracks it open how he sees the base line humans around him do and takes a sip, it fizzes and bubbles and is incredibly sweet with hints of citrus in it that is almost overwhelming, yet he's not going to let it go to waste as he finishes the whole fizzy drink in several large swigs. He carefully takes the refuse to one of the large trash bins nearby and then heads back over to the human.
"Is there a way I can help?" He asks them.
They talk to him in the local's tongue that he doesn't understand yet, before they gesture for him to help with moving some supplies, they look heavy, for a base line human.
But is easy enough for him to pick up and carry with his superior strength, he takes it to where they gesture and gently sets it down before starting to help serve base line humans in, what he hears is called a 'zoup kitchen'.
Giving food to those less fortunate is a good, kind act. One that his gene-father would be happy to participate in. One that he's happy to help with as they serve other base line humans for most of the day. He continues to help and some of the humans are almost tearful in how grateful they are for the food.
The leftovers are easily, happily handed over to the less fortunate humans who happily tote the rest of the food bags with them to other parts of this city. He helps the Zoup Kitchen staff clean up and he's happy to help.
One of the humans that is apart of the staff for the Zoup Kitchen, for some reason he feels like he should follow them. A warmth spreading in his soul as he got to watch them work and help others. Like a chain, or something looping around him and tying him to them.
It didn't feel forced, and from what he can tell of the base line human, they seem to be unaware of this strange spontaneous bond that has formed, and they don't seem as if they are a Psyker.
Several days later, and he continues to help at this Zoup Kitchen in order to have something to fill his belly with, an Ultramarine shows up and blinks at him and they talk about the State of Things, and he says goodbye to his human for a moment- he will go with the Ultramarine to the nearest base for more information, before going back to his human.
Learning about when and where they are is… quite the shock. Also, learning about how the Space Marines are from, as near as anyone can tell every when and everywhere and that… well… He wonders just how messy things might, could get with the Space Marines from before the Heresy, while those during and post Heresy have a lot of… dark, grim portents to inform the others as needed.
#warhammer 40k#space marine husbandry sentience#space marine husbandry#warhammer#adeptus astartes#poor unfortunate souls au#oc: Su'cona#salamander#salamander oc
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Got Mint? (Part 1) - Isekai Bad Batch
Author’s Notes: Crosshair loves mouth stuff, he especially loves your mouth, the mint is just an added bonus. - I'm going off the notion, if it isn't mentioned in SW canon, i can pretend if it is/isn't real, I've decided mint how we know it doesn't exist in SW universe as far as they know ¬u¬ Haha wow I finished the first half, I have more for this prompt planned. Relationships: Crosshair x Reader Tags & Warnings: Smooching, Oral Fixation, +18?? I think, it's very earnest kissies
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"What do we do if he sees us?" Both you and Crosshair had been sent to tail a target for Cid, and now together you were standing watching a nervous looking Rodian make his rounds at every stall in the bustling marketplace from a quiet off-the-street courtyard.
"Nothing."
You're familiar with his curt answers now, it wasn't necessarily from rudeness, Crosshair just didn't waste his breath on more words than were necessary.
"Right..." you huff, a little agitated at the waiting and pop a piece of gum in your mouth. Crosshair watches as you do this, he'd always been curious about this gum stuff you always had with you, but never asked, it seemed to be your equivalent of his toothpicks, an oral focus that helped him concentrate. He figured it best to leave it to you, after all, you'd been teleported here from another universe whilst you'd been out doing a "supply run", and of all the food you had with you, this was all that was left. Someone Wrecker had already eaten most of the rest, but you'd staunchly protected the gum like a Pyke with Spice. He didn't want to take your "toothpicks" from you.
You can feel Crosshair's eyes on you as you watch the Rodian slowly make his way toward your vicinity. The feel of his gaze sends a flush of warmth to your face and neck- to think you had THE Crosshair staring at you right now, if the Clone Appreciation Community back on Earth could see this, they'd flip their shit.
Over the past few months of your “accidental” arrival in this universe he'd gone from being deeply suspicious, to warming up to you, to the two of you being so comfortable just existing in each others spaces that you had no doubt that he harboured feelings for you on some level- he'd be busy cleaning his Firepuncher while you would lay across his lap doing the "homework" Tech had given you to help get to grips with this universe. You treasured your alone time, so did he, but being alone with him was somehow so much better.
And of course there was the purposefully teasing you- he enjoyed getting you riled up with rampant flirting, slightly too long hugs, lingering touches and near kisses. You wondered if that's what he was doing right now, with his eyes still fixed on you, plotting a new way to rile you up.
You dare a glance over at him and he's smirking at you, of course he is, "Can I help you?" he drawls, making you roll your eyes playfully,
"You're supposed to be watching." you sigh, casually discarding the finished gum in a nearby bin. He rolls the toothpick between his teeth while maintaining his smouldering gaze on you, "I am."
His words send another flush of heat to your cheeks and he chuckles before flicking away his toothpick and leaning over you, one arm resting on the wall above you, kriff he's so fucking tall, "Our mark is too close, we need a distraction." He gently grabs your chin as you start to turn to see, "Don't look." He leans in closer, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, a soaring feeling rushes up through your body as you bite your lip. In this moment he could do anything to you you realise, and you wanted him to.
"They always get uncomfortable with public affection." he murmurs against your mouth, gently ghosting his lips across yours as a silent request, one you eagerly permit by parting your lips and closing the searing hot space between the two of you.
Your lips practically melt against his as Crosshair gently pulls you closer into his body, one hand secure around your waist, while the other slowly traces along your jaw. Kriff, he's so warm...
Having never tasted mint before, your sweet cold breath had Crosshair intrigued. Running his tongue over your lips to gain entry to your mouth, that you so deliciously granted, had him reeling in pleasure at the taste of your tongue on his. How could someone taste so good? His grip on your waist tightened a little and the hand he had been using to send shivers down your neck moved to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair and gripping just a little, as he deepened the kiss, causing you to softly moan into his mouth, your fingers digging into his back as you held on to him.
After what felt like a delectable eternity of his mouth on yours, you pull away to catch your breath, and look up at Crosshair who briefly scans the marketplace before turning back to you with that sly smile of his, "I think it worked."
"Oh, good. Good..." the surprise as to what just transpired has you flustered while Crosshair gazes down at you, revelling in the fact that he finally got to kiss you, and leaving him wanting more of the delicious lingering tingle of mint you left on his mouth.
#the bad batch#star wars#tbb#crosshair#star wars the bad batch#clone thirsting#crosshair tbb#crosshair x reader#crosshair x you#crosshair/reader#sw tbb#crosshair fanfiction#the bad batch fanfic#isekai bad batch#crosshair fanfic#star wars isekai#crovax writes#let me know if ppl want to be tagged in certain things i post in the future btw :3#yes there is a part 2#i just gots to write it :''3
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Ok, let's break this down. Chances I would survive the initial outbreak are low, though better since I started masking. I used to catch every cold that went through our friend group but I've only gotten sick with a cold or a flu less then once a year since covid started and I have not yet caught covid. Pros I tend to watch weird survival stuff on you tube when I get into depressive funks so I know how to make a variety of traps and snares and I know the basics of skinning and gutting an animal and I'm fairly certain I could mentally cope with it as far as pigeons, deer, squirrels, mice and the like. I know how to fish. I've also watched multiple people do videos on how to prepare unusual meat like skunk or coyote, though as they have a higher chance of having eaten zombie meat they would not be what I would try to catch. For skunks it's be very careful about removing all of the scent glands and marinade in something quite sweet and acidic to break down the scent/taste. I know the basics of making vinegar. I own a copy of an old cookbook that my grandmother gifted to each of her grandchildren that was released around the time she got married. It's got chapters on how to break down animals from whole carcasses into usable food and is aimed at a homesteading wife kinda thing. I know how to make pemmican. I worked for a while behind the meat counter at a grocery store so I'm good with breaking down meat. I'm good with my hands and I enjoy gardening. We own a water filter and don't drink tap water habitually. I have much lower social needs then most people I know. If I have one other person with me I'd be good enough and I can go months without socializing before I start to feel it as a need. I own both a quarter staff and a sword. I have a biphasic sleep schedule so I'm accustomed to sleeping in short chunks at any hour. I wake easily at odd noises especially if I feel unsafe. I can sew and weave and I know how to make fiber from things like nettles. I've got enough body fat that with a small amount of food I could last months, though I would have to figure out a solution for water. I'd probably try to steal the plastic bins that the biodegradable waste goes in and hook them up to the gutters from my apartment building roof, but I don't think that would be enough for year round water. The river is too polluted and is through the woods so that is high risk. My wife and I have worked/help run a zombie survival lazer tag event for several years in the past. I'm a fairly good shot with a bow or an air rifle if I have time to aim. I've been researching farming quail and pigeons. I have seeds for several edible plants though we're halfway through the growing season and would only have time for maybe some radish, green onions, carrots, or spinach out of what I have. I own a pot for water bath canning and I would try to get my hands on a pressure canner. I know how to pickle. I took two years of shop class so I know my way around basic woodworking tools. Cons I live in a fairly populous city near down town. I am not physically fit. I have chronic pain and bad teeth, I get cavities often even with enamel toothpaste. I often wake up with pain and weakness in my hands. I have chronic pain, severe depression, and severe social anxiety along with some stuff I haven't figured out yet. We do get about a week of -40 c here in the winter that would be hell to deal with.
In conclusion, mentally I would cope fairly well and I don't think I'd be much worse off then I currently am. Physically I think I'd be screwed. I'm too stubborn to kill myself though.
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Industrial Cleaning
Office Cleaning Solutions in Melbourne delivers a diverse range of industrial cleaning services, ensuring the cleanliness and hygiene of industrial spaces. Let's break down and understand these services:
1. Floor Cleaning and Maintenance:
Procedure: Utilizing specialized industrial-grade floor cleaning equipment such as ride-on scrubbers and sweepers.
Process: Mechanical scrubbing, surface treatment, and the application of protective coatings for extended durability.
Purpose: To maintain a pristine and safe industrial floor environment.
2. High-Tech Equipment Cleaning:
Procedure: Precision cleaning methods for high-tech equipment.
Process: Use of industry-approved solvents, ultrasonic cleaning technologies, and microfiber cloths to remove contaminants without causing damage.
Purpose: Ensuring the optimal functionality and longevity of sophisticated industrial equipment.
3. Warehouse Cleaning:
Procedure: Systematic approach using advanced tools and technologies.
Process: Utilization of floor analysis tools, automated guided vehicles (AGVs) with cleaning mechanisms, and RFID tracking for efficient monitoring.
Purpose: To create a safe and organized working environment in expansive warehouse spaces.
4. Industrial Equipment Degreasing:
Procedure: Employing specialized degreasing agents.
Process: Use of ultrasonic degreasing baths for intricate parts and automated systems for consistent coverage and removal of grease and oils.
Purpose: Maintaining the cleanliness and operational efficiency of industrial machinery.
5. Environmental Cleaning and Waste Management:
Procedure: Integration of smart waste management solutions.
Process: Use of RFID-tagged waste bins, adherence to industrial waste disposal regulations, and barcode scanning for accurate categorization and disposal.
Purpose: Ensuring environmentally responsible waste management practices.
6. High-Level Cleaning for Industrial Spaces:
Procedure: Employing advanced cleaning methods for elevated surfaces.
Process: Utilization of industrial drones equipped with cleaning modules and robotics for tasks in confined spaces.
Purpose: Thorough cleaning of high and hard-to-reach areas in industrial settings.
7. Specialized Cleaning for Manufacturing Areas:
Procedure: Implementation of automated cleaning systems.
Process: Use of robotic cleaning systems programmed for specific tasks, laser-guided navigation, and real-time monitoring for optimized efficiency.
Purpose: Maintaining cleanliness in manufacturing areas for streamlined production processes.
8. Industrial Restroom Cleaning:
Procedure: Utilization of autonomous cleaning robots.
Process: Integration of UV-C disinfection systems, surface detection sensors, and IoT-enabled restroom fixtures for real-time monitoring.
Purpose: Ensuring sanitized and well-maintained industrial restroom facilities.
9. Periodic Deep Cleaning Services:
Procedure: Deployment of robotic cleaning systems with multifunctional tools.
Process: Real-time data analytics to assess cleaning efficacy, machine learning algorithms for optimizing cleaning parameters.
Purpose: Periodic and comprehensive cleaning to maintain high hygiene standards in varying industrial environments.
Understanding these procedures and processes highlights the meticulous and tailored approach of Office Cleaning Solutions in providing effective and efficient industrial cleaning services in Melbourne.
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India’s Best RFID Tags Manufacturers
The Tag Factory is a maker of Radio Frequency Identification Tag which is otherwise called RFID tag. The principle goal of the organization is to give consumer loyalty through item quality, reasonableness and on time conveyance.
Label Factory is RFID label producers in India and is ISO 9001:2000 confirmed organization. The organization can possibly structure and fabricate tweaked labels at different frequencies i.e HF, LF &UHF.
They have been delivering labels since 2008 and their vision is to accomplish worldwide authority in offering some benefit added great RFID Tags to clients along these lines empowering advance business and another degree of productivity, which joins innovation and carry vows to client connections.
Been in the industry for more than 10 years, The Tag Factory is well equipped to meet the needs of the global market providing a full range of RFID Tags.
The types of LF Tags also known as Low-Frequency Tags are listed below:
a. Clear Tag
b. M-Prince Tag
c. Waste Bin Tag
d. Cylinder Tag
e. M-Prince HT Tag
There are subcategories of Industry Tag, Waste Bin Tag, M-Prince Tag ranging from 20mm to 34mm
Then there comes the HF Tag also known as High-Frequency Tags:
a. Clear Tag
b. Industry Tag
c. Laundry Tag
d. Token Tag
e. Wristband Tag
f. Jewelry Tag
Their tag range from various field and now comes with Ultra High-Frequency Tag is also known as UHG Tags
a. M-Cable Tag
b. Ankle Band Tag
c. M-Knight Tag
d. Combi-wrist band Tag
e. M-Armada Tag
f. M-Crown Tag
g. M-King Tag
h. M-Prince Tag
i. M-Shield Tag
j. M-Tudor Tag
k. M-Warrior Tag
l. Pallet tag
m. Wrist band tag
n. Lock-it Tag (Higgs-3)
o. Keg Tag (Global)
p. Bend-it tag (Monza-4)
q. M-Pawn tag (Higgs-3)
r. Flexible laundry tag (Higgs-4)
s. M-Nano tag (Higgs-3)
t. M-Superior Tag (Higgs-3)
u. M-Tudor tag (Monza 4)
v. Pallet tag (Higgs-3)
w. Tamper-proof windshield tag (Higgs-3)
x. Secure-it Tag (Higgs-3)
Asset Tracking RFID Tag manufacturers:
Assets and dispatched products are generally tracked once they’ve dispatched from the warehouse thus making tracking easier.
For the most part makers of benefits following the assistance of RFID labels can be accessible on the web. Squander Tags that are joined to squander compartments can be checked to sort the nature of following the number of trucks in the process. Another method for checking and monitoring waste dispensable is conceivable with the assistance of Rfid Tags fabricate. THE Rfid squander the board framework improves charging for administrations and backing for the usage of motivating forces to be given.
#RFID Tag manufacturers#the tag factory#Asset Tracking#a. Clear Tag#b. M-Prince Tag#c. Waste Bin Tag#d. Cylinder Tag#e. M-Prince HT Tag#b. Industry Tag#c. Laundry Tag#d. Token Tag#e. Wristband Tag#f. Jewelry Tag#a. M-Cable Tag#b. Ankle Band Tag#c. M-Knight Tag#d. Combi-wrist band Tag#e. M-Armada Tag#f. M-Crown Tag#Asset Tracking RFID Tag manufacturers
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hi since your title says requests are open i decided to go for it! i love your greys writing, and i especially appreciate the owen fic. i was wondering if you could write something where he calms the reader down from an anxiety/panic attack? he always seems so steady in moments like that and i think it would make a great one shot. thank you, your writing is phenomenal! ❤️ (my pronouns are she/her)
Sanctuary (Owen Hunt x Reader)
a/n: i'm gonna apologize now for that other owen fic a bit ago lmaooo
tags: female reader, description of panic attacks, Owen holds you, kisses
summary: You have a panic attack and Owen helps you recover.
Sweat formed on your brow, everything was going wrong in this moment and you were at a loss on what to do. Her heart was beating too hard and you'd had to rush her into surgery. You were confident in your abilities but right now, you were at a total and complete loss. "She died, Doctor... You have to call it."
This was your patient. Jennifer Carlyle. 24 years old, born with a heart defect that was supposed to be an easy fix. It hadn't bothered her for 17 years until it did. You'd been with her every step of the way and you were the lead surgeon on her case. She was the first patient you'd ever lost in surgery. "Time of death... 9:35am." You then walked out quickly into the scrub room. You threw your surgical cap across the scrub room tears streaming quickly as you threw your gloves away in the medical waste bin. You see people leave the gallery and feel their eyes watching you as you begin to scrub, the minutes felt like hours as you do so, watching the janitors clean the O.R. and the morgue take Jennifer.
When you finish, the reality truly sets in. Jennifer was really dead, she was the first person to ever die at your hands. You knew she wouldn't be the last and that thought haunted you, deeply. Maybe I shouldn't become a surgeon. You thought, Maybe I still have time to become a cardiologist or pulmonologist. You couldn't deal with the idea of people dying because of you. You knew it was part of the job, you accepted it. Until now, when it happened to you. She didn't have any family, you didn't have anyone to tell. The feelings just bubbled in your chest as you began to trudge to the attending's lounge with a dead look in your eyes and the feeling of weight upon your shoulders and chest. It was becoming almost hard to breathe.
You open the door to the resident's locker room. Quickly slamming it shut, sitting up against the back of the row of cubbies, holding your knees to your chest. Your breathing becomes heavy and your chest becomes tight. You begin to wail, not caring who hears or sees it, as you do so; your mind begins to wonder. Maybe I don't deserve to be the chief resident. Thoughts like those flood your mind in a negative, angry flood of thoughts as the tears begin to flow more and more. You hear the door open, quickly shutting up and staying where you are. You hear footsteps and then see Owen, your boyfriend and teacher, as he comes to sit in front of you, eyes full of anxiety.
"Hey, hey, look at me," Owen murmurs, wiping tears away from your face as you shake your head, "Okay... just breathe with me. 1, 2, 3... in... 1, 2, 3... out..." He continues with the exercise as you follow him, trying your best to calm down, when you calm down enough Owen wraps his arms around you. Your breathing feels constricted once more as you keep thinking about Jennifer.
"It's my fault, Owen... She's dead because of me." You mutter into his chest as he shushes you a bit, rocking you back and forth for just a moment in time. "It isn't your fault, she just had complications from the defect and there was nothing you could do." He brushes his hand through your hair as you wail into his chest.
"I shouldn't be a surgeon, Owen. I can't handle it... I can't handle killing someone. They should fire me from the chief resident, I'm not good enough..!" You know what he's gone through, how many people died because of mistakes he made. "You're an amazing chief resident, love... and you're an amazing cardiothoracic surgeon... You still have a lot to learn but that's what the attendings are here for. You will be an incredible surgeon. I promise. You need to stay a surgeon to get there..."
You suddenly realize that you've calmed down just through talking to Owen, you're still hurting so much, you know it will hurt for a long, long time but, as Owen rubs your back and kisses your forehead with so much love.
You pull away from Owen, breathing in his scent as he helps you stand up and wipes the tears away from your cheeks with his thumb. He kisses your cheek tenderly, “I’m going to take you home, you can’t do any more surgery for the day. That’s an order.” He says in a voice that is stern, yet kind before kissing your temple.
He wraps an arm around you as the two of you walk out of the hospital, wrapped around him as he helps you into his truck. “Wait… my scrubs are still bloody.” Owen shakes his head, “It’s fine, promise.” He smiles kindly as he starts his truck, and the two of you drive off to your shared apartment. You sigh, exhausted, and lay against the seat. He smiles at you once more, you’ll always remember Jennifer and it’ll always hurt you even a little bit, but with Owen by your side. You know you can do anything, surgery or otherwise.
When the two of you get to your apartment, he leads you upstairs and opens the door. He walks you to your bedroom and helps you out of your scrubs into a pair of sweatpants and one of his T-Shirts. He helps you into bed and throws your scrubs into a tub to get the blood out. He kisses your forehead once more as he covers you with the comforter and pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Get some rest. I’ll be home soon and make us dinner. I love you.” He whispers before turning the lights out to the bedroom.
You lie in the dark, exhausted and sorrowful for the woman you lost, but in this moment. You’re incredibly thankful to have Owen with you to be your rock and the love of your life.
#owen hunt x reader#owen hunt#grey's abc#grey's anatomy#grey's fanfic#greys anatomy#grey's#grey's fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfics#x reader#reader insert#female reader#fem reader#x reader fanfiction
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Would you write pre- age of ultron Zemo (or whenever you want) and pregnant reader. I really think he'd be the softest expectant father 🥺
Hello, my lovely! I ended up going for current time Zemo for this, since I think the loss of his family is an important part of Zemo’s story and character! So we’re just gonna ignore the end of tfatws ep 5, and pretend you’re on the run with Zemo instead lmao!
Helmut Zemo x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons
Zemo had been a mess when you told him the news
He was ecstatic at the news, kissing you with so much force he almost pulled the air out of your lungs
He was also incredibly concerned
A life on the run was no life for a child
So he knew he had to find a way for you all to be safe somewhere once the baby arrives
Once you get to your second trimester, he’s found somewhere for you to live out in the middle of nowhere, in the countryside somewhere in Germany
And you’re in an expansive cottage, with a huge garden and wide open fields surrounding you
Zemo wanted lots of green space for your child to play in
And maybe even to keep some animals too
During the whole pregnancy, he is an absolute sweetheart
He does not stop doting on you
Literally does not let you lift a finger
Is more than happy to wait on you all day long, bringing you whatever you may want or need
He’s always rubbing moisturisers and lotions on you, paying extra special attention to your growing bump, littering it with kisses whenever he gets the chance
You especially love when he talks to the bump
The sweet things he says about how much he already loves the little one
And how he absolutely can’t wait to meet them
And what good care he’s going to take of them now and when they’re finally here
And he’s always telling the bump how amazing you are
And what a perfect family you’re going to be altogether
Zemo is convinced it’s a girl
You don’t want to find out until the baby actually arrives
But he is convinced
Zemo is always cooking you foods, and he’s always double-triple checking recipes to make sure every ingredient is safe for you to eat
He’s quite fond of baking with you, and baking often devolves into food fights
Where you’re each covered in flour or butter or you have smears of chocolate all over your faces
And he’ll put whatever it is you’re baking in the oven and go run you a bath
He helps you wash where you can’t reach as well anymore because of the bump, and will bring the baked goods fresh out of the oven up to the bathroom for you to enjoy, and then he’ll hop in the bath with you, getting himself clean too, and just relaxing with you
He’s fiercely protective over you
He lost his family before, he certainly won’t let it happen again
He would kill anyone who came in between him and you
Without hesitation
If anything threatened the life you were about to embark on together
He would do literally anything to protect that life
When the baby finally arrives, he’s whispering praises into your ear throughout the entire labour, telling you you’re doing amazing
When the baby is finally born, and the midwife announces it’s a girl, he has a very brief smug look on his face, before he actually lays his eyes on his daughter
And he promptly starts to cry
As the midwife cleans your daughter, he turns to look at you, beaming from ear to ear
“I’m so proud of you, my love.” he whispers and kisses you
Your daughter is laid against your chest, and you’re pretty sure Zemo doesn’t blink for like 10 minutes, just staring at the tiny little girl in awe
You had discussed some names previously, but in that moment, you knew what you should name her
You hadn’t brought it up with him yet, but as you laid there watching Zemo rock your daughter softly in his arms, you suggested it
“We should name her after your wife”
He looks up at you shocked, and tears begin to pool in his eyes, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Helmut. I’m sure.” you reach a hand to wipe at the tears that had fallen, smiling at him
“I love you so much. Rest, my love. You did so well.” he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the exhaustion kicking in quickly
As he looks at his tiny daughter in his arms, and looks over at you in the hospital bed, he can’t quite believe how lucky he is
Of all the people in the world, he can’t believe he has this wonderful second chance at life
And he knows he isn’t going to waste a second of it.
Zemo taglist (please comment/message/ask if you want to be added/removed):
@noavengers @let-me-read-fanfiction-in-peace @zemodaddy @lulu-yuming @ichigomiluku @multiyfandomgirl40 @gwenebear @aisling1985 @booklover2929 @myeternalsin @moongirl1313 @angiekurosaki @lieutenantn @hibiscusgardenia @plantpottt @whatiswrongwithpeople @writeroutoftime @maldita-insonia @fandomxreaders @loudbluepancake @montypythonsholysnail @bel-13 @ayuoudro @leblubbles @marvelsvision @there-will-be-p-e-a-c-e @and-claudia @multifandombtch @sinister-sleep @moonstuffsteve @endorpuff @thanoshadtosnaptwiceforyou @cryinggarbagebag @eristudytime @grifffins @reichelhache @whoreforsamwilson @booksarekindaneat @ajeff855 @sapphiredreamer26 @marvel-trash-bin @tendertales73 @nocturnal-world @buckys-sugardoll @galaxypox @valeskasgf @mochminnie @cheekybluefox
(tumblr won’t let me tag some of you for some reason, maybe check your visibility settings - I’ll keep trying!!)
#zemo x reader#zemo x you#zemo x y/n#baron zemo x reader#baron zemo x you#baron zemo x y/n#helmut zemo x reader#helmut zemo x you#helmut zemo x y/n#baron helmut zemo x reader#baron helmut zemo x you#baron helmut zemo x y/n
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Baby Eyes | Mafia Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader
Warning: 18+ Content. Some non-con, blood, murder, Mafia Bakugo, Fem! Reader, bdsm, sexual intercourse, size kink, degrading, orgasm denial, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, etc.
Words: 2,896
A/N: thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate. It is really fun doing this collaboration with you. Daisy’s Event
Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @milkthistletea @idfkwtfgof click here to see my other works
Vegas.
Many dream of this city. The gambling, the drinks, the money, the night life. It has it all. Your dreams and worse nightmares can be made here all within a single night. The world may be cruel, but Vegas is even crueler. At least, it is for Y/N.
Your pistol was held tight in your trembling little hand. You have not been properly trained for this moment since in your late teens. The weapon felt foreign to the touch. You are now in your twenties and you are usually not doing this line of work, but since you wanted to disturb your significant other while he was working, he handed you the gun for you to handle.
“Since you want to be such a fucking cry baby, here.” He growled, shoving the pistol into your pounding chest. You gasped.
“S-Sir, I—“ You stammered, using the name he loved to be called by you. You would help it lessen your punishment, but the man did not budge.
“Don’t keep me waiting, brat. Finish this piece of shit off swiftly and quit your damn crying.”
You watched as he left into the city lights of Vegas before turning your attention back to the male before you. The man begged for mercy beneath you and your mouth feels dry.
“P-Please, ma’am. I-I have a w-wife and t-three beautiful c-children. I’ll g-give you your m-money next week. I-I promise.” The fearful man stammered amongst the abandoned dark alleyway. You have heard this speech by many like him when Katsuki brought you on his missions. It should just fall on deaf ears, but tears still brimmed your eyes as memories flooded back to the forefront of your damaged mind.
These memories are the reason you are in this predicament. You begged and squealed, running towards Katsuki and hanging onto his arm when he directed you to stay in the car. You two could have been gone by now, but you decided to intervene. Now you are here, about to commit another murder.
Your father was in this same position a few years ago. Begging for mercy before Katsuki slaughtered him right in front of you. Your cries still echo this alleyway during late, breezy nights. People think you have been disposed of as well. That is what eventually happened to the remainder of your family, but you are just under a new identity.
The barrel of the gun digs deeper into the victim’s temple. You attempt to find your strength to pull the trigger. You need to before Katsuki returns. He does not like waiting and you really are pushing what is left of his buttons today.
“I’m sorry.” You whimper out, closing your sorrow filled eyes and pressing down on the trigger. The feeling of blood splattering amongst your cold skin brought back even more unwanted memories. Falling to your knees, you began to cry hysterically in front of the fallen corpse.
Heavy footsteps came up behind you after a few moments. Katsuki has been watching the whole time and you know it. This is what made the experience even worse. You know his judgment is coming. He gave you a task and although you succeeded, it isn’t good enough. He hates your emotional ways. ‘Baby eyes’ as he would say. Always crying over something or someone.
A big calloused hand entangling into your hair with a deep sigh following. You could not look up at him. You hate him right now. You need to, at least, but the feeling of his large fingers stroking your scalp delivered comfort. A comfort he gives and takes away on a whim.
“Took you long enough.” Katsuki grumbled. You gaze up at him with a pitiful look he knows all too well. There was a certain aura to you that changed when your mind drifted to that night. The night he murdered your family right in front of you and all you could do is watch in terror.
“I-I’m sorry.” You muttered out, already accepting that Katsuki is annoyed with you. This is not your first murder and sure will not be your last. He has groomed you long enough for you to know your role.
Katsuki kicked the man’s head with his large foot so he could see the man’s pleading face. Katsuki is cruel in that way. He loved seeing his victim’s expressions in their final moments. Especially when his beautiful woman killed them.
Digging into the man’s pockets, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and black leather wallet to review what was contained inside it. The little cash the man held is now in Katsuki’s possession.
“Marlboro Reds,” Katsuki commented as he slipped the cigarette in between his moist lips and lit it up, “nice.”
Turning around to face you after letting the nicotine enter his system, he looks down at you. Grabbing your chin, you are forced to meet his gaze. You tremble under his touch.
“What did I say about that crying shit?” Katsuki recalls one of your many lectures.
“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, a little too loud for your own good. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed together, not pleased with your tone. His hand found a way to your neck, giving you a nice squeeze as he guides you up to your feet.
“Let’s go.” Katsuki growls, his red orbs shooting venom into you. Your arm is now tight into his grip as he leads you to the parked all black Lamborghini.
You climb into the passenger seat while Katsuki climbs into the driver’s. You used the napkins in the glove compartment to clean up your soiled face. Katsuki is already on his second cigarette as he drives to the mansion you both share. Considering how fed up he is with you and your antics, you are surprised that half of the box is not gone by now. You know you are in for it once you arrive home.
Katsuki pulled up to the house after some time. Your tears did not pause once the whole way there which only agitated Katsuki even more. He did not say a word as you know to follow the tall man inside. Straight up the spiral marble staircase to the master bedroom, you begin undressing as Katsuki does not appreciate the mess in his living space. Along with the fact you are always to be naked within the bedroom. That rule was set once you turned eighteen years of age.
You sat on the edge of the bed, not enjoying the look in Katsuki’s angry eyes. His muscular arms folded against his chest as he leaned against the wall, glaring into you. You feel small — as usual — within his presence. He is making sure you remember your place.
“What the hell were you thinking out there, Y/N?” Katsuki begins after moments have passed.
“I-I don’t know.” You mumbled, twiddling your thumbs in your bare lap. Your insides are curling with each passing second. You are not sure why you did what you did, honestly. You have seen numerous people plead for forgiveness at Katsuki’s feet, but Katsuki is always going to be a merciless man. Your body acted before your brain could compute. You just wanted to save him. Salvage your loved ones death in some way, shape, or form, but it can never be done.
“You have to give me a better excuse than that. This little rebellion you're on lately isn’t doing nothing but getting you into heaps of trouble.”
“It’s not a rebellion!” You snap back, tears still spilling from your orbs. “You killed my family, Katsuki!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, used to this statement coming from you. “Here we go again.” He scoffs with a tsk following shortly after. “We’ve been over this, Y/N. Your father sold you and your family out for cash. If anything, you should be fucking grateful I even let you live.”
“Grateful?” You repeat in disbelief, a half hearted chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it was because Katsuki let you take another life, maybe your parents' spirits are coming through, or maybe you’re just so fed up with him, but a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.
You stand up, strolling over to the man before you. His jaw is clenching as he examines each cowardly step you take towards him. You glare up to the man before you, quivering before his mighty presence.
“You killed my family, Katsuki,” you repeat through gritted teeth and clenched fists, “I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“Oh yeah?” Katsuki challenged, his profound amused smirk appearing. The look in your glossy irises said all the words you didn’t have the courage to speak. “Good thing I really don’t give a fuck about your forgiveness, princess.”
Katsuki’s words soaked into your veins like venom. His smug looks always made you want to beat it off of him. Ever since you have met him. You both know you have no match against him. He will always win. Always.
You have been stuck with him since you were fifteen years old. You two never had any relationship or any sexual conduct until you were the legal age of eighteen. You would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him over the years. He is all you know and Katsuki grew to like you over the years. Though he trained you to be the woman he wants you to be for him, you do throw a tantrum or two when needed.
“I hate you.” You sniveled.
“Sure you do. Let’s clean up that pretty face of yours so I can stuff it, eh?” Katsuki chuckled, cupping your chin with one hand so he can wipe your nose with a handkerchief with the other. You attempted to break loose of his firm grasp, but the male was not even phased.
“I don’t want your dick anywhere near me.” You admit allowed, still keeping the same angry tone within your words.
Katsuki arched his eyebrow, releasing your face from his grip and discarding the used cloth into the waste bin. “Considering the show you put on out there tonight, you’re lucky I’m not doing worse to you. I can always make that pretty ass of yours bruised too if you’d like?”
You immediately shake your head no. Your bottom is still a bit sore from two weeks ago when Katsuki put you over his knee. You are just now able to sit normal again. You do not need to go back to that.
“No, sir.” You stutter out, backing away from him and putting your hands behind your back. Katsuki is already pouring himself some whiskey into a whiskey glass that you make sure is always waiting on his dresser. He always enjoys a good drink after a long mission.
You take his black suit jacket off of him like expected and lay it on the dirty laundry hamper. Katsuki is already sitting on the bed, sipping on his alcoholic beverage, waiting for you to get to work. Kneeling before him, you begin unzipping his slacks and tugging down his underwear to reveal his erected cock. You take a moment to contemplate your future actions. You really did not want his dick in your mouth, but like Katsuki said before, you do not have a choice in the matter.
Your train of thought is derailed when Katsuki tugs on your hair. “Isn’t going to suck itself, brat. Get to work.”
Mentally groaning, your tongue swipes his length before placing kisses on the tip. Slowly, you begin taking in inch—by—inch. Saliva slid down his cock by the time you had it in your throat. Choking noises fed Katsuki’s already inflated ego.
“Can’t talk much with my cock down your throat, huh?” He teased, taking another sip of his whiskey. “For someone who claimed they didn’t want my cock to begin with, you sure are deep throating it rather quickly.”
You ignored his usual insults as you came up for air. You let out small coughs then go in for more, every vein being pleased with your tongue as you take it all in. Katsuki groans in pleasure as you pick up the speed. His cock is coated in your saliva as you did not slow down once to catch air. It wasn’t worth the ego boost he would feel from knowing he is too big for you.
Katsuki’s whiskey went unfinished as he could not focus on drinking it. Cum soon fills your hollow cheeks and down your throat as he releases into you. Not a drop was missed as you milked his cock. You were rewarded with a head pat.
“On the bed,” Katsuki instructs, “all fours.”
“Do I have to?” You whine. Katsuki vigorously grabs your chin, staring down into you. The room is dark, but his crimson eyes seemed to glow.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on this fucking bed and shut your Goddamn mouth.” Katsuki hisses, sending chills down your spine. You do as you are told like he taught you. Arching your back, your ass is now in his perfect viewing. Katsuki’s clothes discarded to the hardwood floor below, his dick already erected at the sight of you.
“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Katsuki asked, rhetorically. He spreads you open more for his personal view. “Yeah, that’s it.” He comments, overviewing all of you. One of his hands stroked his cock while the other pressed on your begging clit. You let out a soft moan, hoping he didn’t hear.
Placing his hands on your hips, he drags you closer to him. Leveling you with his cock, the tip slowly slips into your entrance then proceeding to pick up full speed. Your cunt swallows all of him, hugging his cock with each rhythmic thrust. You can feel your tight walls get stretched by his girth with each entry he makes, not even giving you time to get used to his size as he exits to repeat the same process. No matter how many times you two have sex, you will never get used to Katsuki’s length and size.
“Katsuki—“ You sob in pleasure and in pain.
“Shut it, slut. You’re going to take all of my fucking cock and like it. I’m going to fuck the brat out of you tonight.” Katsuki demands, pressing down on your spine so your ass is more perked up for him to smack periodically. Your cries and moans are muffled into the European satin sheets below. You grip onto them for support as Katsuki does not slow down once.
Your pussy pulsates with each thrust. It was about to give out on you and cum all over his cock. Though you did not want to give him the satisfaction, your cunt had other plans as it became tighter around Katsuki’s length.
“Aw, is someone going to cum?” Katsuki coo’s condescendingly, beginning to go agonizingly slow.
You lift your head to beg for sweet release. “Please let me cum, sir. Pretty please. I need to oh so badly.” You sobbed. His silence made your insides do flips. His slow strokes did not once stop and his nails dug into your thighs.
“No.” Katsuki finally denies as he knows you cannot take anymore. You gasp, your heart stopping for a split second.
“Katsuki, please.” You hiccuped. “I really need to.”
“Should’ve thought about that before throwing a tantrum today. Good girls get to cum.” Katsuki shrugged, using his long muscular arm to push your head back into the mattress. “Now shut the hell up while I fuck you senseless.”
Just like Katsuki stated, he fucked you until his high was met. Of course, he did not make it easy as he was about to bust, he would go slower to edge himself. He wanted this to be a punishment to remember. The whole time, you behaved and did not cum. No matter how many times Katsuki tried to get you to slip, you refused.
“C’mon and cum, brat. Y’know you wanna.” Katsuki would tease with immaturity. All you could say was incoherent “no thank you’s.” A soft rub on your ass was telling you that you passed his test.
Countless minutes, maybe even hours, have passed until Katsuki decided he was ready to release himself. “You can cum now.” He finally grants. You did not get to even process his words as your pussy released onto his cock. Babbles of pleasure and gratitude escaped from your lips.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki praises, his cock now removed from you. You whine at the hollowness you felt.
“Lay on your back.” He instructs, doing his best to keep it together. You follow his request and switch over to your back. “Play with your tits.”
Your fingers grab onto your sensitive nipples, swirling on them before giving them a nice little pinch. Katsuki stood over you, stroking his cock that is covered in his pre-cum.
“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” Katsuki praised once more, analyzing your lewd faces as your fingers played with your breast.
“Mm, cover me with your cum.” You encouraged, rubbing your thighs together and pushing your breast closer to one another. Katsuki became feral as cum squirted onto your chest and stomach. Just the sight of you is making Katsuki forget today ever happened.
Just like always, baby eyes.
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All Rights Reserved
#bakugosbratx#bratx writes#tw noncon#tw blood#tw: gun#tw death#daisy's 2k event!#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugō#mha katsuki#katsukibakugou#bakugo au#bnha au#mafia bakugo#bakugo x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugo x female reader#bakugo smut#bakugou smut#katsuki smut
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c// fem!reader, sex worker hongjoong, detective reader, mentions of murder and crime, bratty hongjoong, joong small cock <3, humiliation kink, oral (f receiving), degradation (use of slut), dumbification, yay for protected sex
you weren’t at all fond of the dingy, dim hotel you found yourself in front of - it smelled of damp decay, and had only one flickering light in front of the entrance. nonetheless, it was essential to be here for the case.
you never enjoyed working homicides, having to look into the depraved faces of killers as they more often than not showed no remorse. with a sigh and a silent prayer, you walk into the motel.
when you show him your badge, the person working the register wordlessly handed you a key with “room 117�� messily scribbled onto it. the climb up four flights of stairs isn’t fun, but finally you unlock the door hastily, wanting to get this over and done with.
as expected, there on the bed is a rather stunning young man. he has sharp yet youthful features, heavy makeup and is only wearing a robe. it’s obvious he has nothing on underneath it. you don’t miss the “do me” eyes that cross his eyes when you enter the room - it’s all an act, you think.
“you can put the money on the table.” he says after a short silence.
“100 for the hour?” he nods. you rummage around your pocket, putting said amount on the table next to you. if you landed a conviction, you’d be getting the money back anyway.
“you can keep your robe on.” you say, getting seated on the bed a safe distance away from him.
a smirk crosses his face. “oh, you want to play with me a little bit first?” his voice changes drastically - it’s more seductive.
you shake your head. “that’s not why i’m here. last night a man was killed, and if my sources are correct, you’re the last person he saw.”
the man pauses, looking at you as though waiting for you to continue.
“i need to you to tell me everything that happened last night.” you state.
he pauses again. “alright.”
“your full name, please?”
“kim hongjoong.”
“okay hongjoong, so what happened when you met up with mr lee last night?”
hongjoong sighs. “well he paid for three hours. he was married, so he paid me extra to stay quiet about it. he was actually really good at sex, he had me in at least five different positions and his cock was massi-”
“relevant details only, please.” you shudder.
hongjoong rolls his eyes. “anyway, he told me he had somewhere to be after, so he wanted to relieve some stress before he went.” you jot down the important detail.
“did he tell you where?”
“he said it was an important meeting at a club down the street.”
you nod. “thank you, hongjoong. we’ll be in contact if we need anything else.”
you start to get up, but he clears his throat. “you paid for the full hour. why don’t you use up the time instead of wasting your money?”
you raise an eyebrow. naturally you assumed that he would want to keep the hour for himself.
“i haven’t had any clients today so i’m feeling a little... pent up.” he continues. “and you look like you could use some stress relief.”
it catches you off guard. you curse yourself for thinking about it - he was right, you did technically have the next hour to do whatever you wanted until you had to get back.
without a word, you begin to unbutton your button up shirt.
“this is strictly casework, got it?” he nods, grinning like a child who just got a jar of candy.
“i’ll make it well worth your time, detective”. he whispers into your ear before nipping on it, catching you off guard.
you weren’t fond of his cocky attitude - it spurred a desire within you to put him in his place.
“off.” you say, pulling at the fabric holding his robe together. he obeys, revealing the expanse of his tan skin, taking notice of every little mole, every little birthmark, every small scar that decorates his skin. but of course, what catches your attention is his hard cock, smaller than average and flushed pink at the tip.
“is this supposed to make me feel good?” you ask, wrapping a hand around the short length. to your amusement, your hand comes up more than is necessary when you jerk him off. it only adds to the humiliation.
“don’t judge before you try it, sweetheart.” he says, not affected by the snide comment at all. “besides, it’s not the only thing i can use to make you feel good.”
at this point you’re only stripped of your shirt, while hongjoong is stark naked. although he lets out pleasured moans, he pulls your hand off his cock and implores you to lay down. he scooches down on the bed, laying down on his tummy and to your surprise, hooks his hands around your panties underneath your pencil skirt. you gasp in surprise, feeling exposed now that he could see your wet pussy.
“hm, you’re a lot of talk for someone who’s already so wet for me.” he giggles. as though to accentuate his point, he runs a finger up your folds and brings it up to his lips.
“oh, you taste divine.” he whispers. “you’ll let me be greedy, right?”
with that, he pulls your skirt up your thighs and wastes no time in licking a stripe up your core, earning a loud moan. his lips suction around your clit, his tongue peeking out to repeatedly stimulate the bud. a finger comes up to tease your entrance.
“f-fuck, hongjoong-” you cry out, already feeling close to your high. “s-stop or i’ll-”
he takes mercy on you, pulling off when your legs start to shake around his head.
“i should have gotten you to sit on my face, you have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted.” he says. you roll your eyes, thinking he must say that to every single person he eats out.
looking at the ticking clock on the wall, you look him straight in the eye. “you have thirty minutes to fuck me until i forget my own name.”
it clearly affects him, because he gulps and nods. he rummages around the bedside table, pulling out a box of condoms and shaking the box until one falls out - clearly the last one in the box. he wastes no time in quickly putting it on before lining himself up with your entrance.
“any day now would be good.” you say angrily. it doesn’t slip your notice that he pushes into your core with more force than necessary.
“fuck, such a tight pussy. no one’s fucked you properly in a while, huh?” he growls into your ear. he’s right - you shouldn’t have judged him, because his cock still manages to fill you up perfectly. it only gets better when his hand meets your clit, and he immediately sets an aggressive pace, ramming into you and perfectly hitting your g-spot with the way his cock curves into it.
“holy shit, fuck joong!” a garbled mess of curses and hongjoong’s name is the only thing you can manage to get out as he only speeds up, letting out pretty, low moans of his own and speaking nothing but pure filth into you ear.
“gosh, you’re such a slut aren’t you? needing a good fuck while you’re on the job?” in your fucked out state of mind, you don’t bother to remember the fact that he was the one who asked for sex. instead you just blindly nod, agreeing with everything he says.
“oh, look at you going all dumb for me. are you gonna cum, my dumb little detective?” you nod again, your moans only getting higher the closer you get to your orgasm.
“i-i’m-” it’s the only warning he gets when your pussy spasms around him, your hips grinding against his harsh pace as you reach your high. it’s enough to spur his orgasm as well, a groan leaving his lips as he empties into the condom.
you both take a minute to catch your breaths before he pulls out, taking off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the bin.
“so, do you feel any better?” he asks when you come back from using the bathroom.
“much better.” you smile, getting dressed and making your way to the door. “thanks, hongjoong.”
“hey.” he speaks up. “take the money back.”
you turn to face him, and shake your head. “think of it as a generous tip.”
a cute pout graces his lips. “i usually have to fake my moans and pretend to enjoy it, but you were really something else.” he says.
“in that case, we can meet up again to compensate.” you say with a smile, which he returns.
“i’d like that.” he replies. “i’ll see you around then, y/n.” and with that you leave, weak in the knees and your head filled with thoughts of the pretty blonde boy.
tag list:
@seongsangsgf @mingi-ivity @shinyddeonghwa @galaxteez @bobateastay @ddeonghwva @spacepiratehongjoong @multidreams-and-desires @a-soft-hornytiny @serialee @yunhospuppy
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eleven months. (m) myg. one.
masterlist.
pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: none this chapter. word count: 2.8k author’s note: this chapter is on the shorter side, just diving into them meeting and giving you all a small glimpse into them as individuals! im really excited for this story so let me know what you think, feel free to scream about anything in my inbox bye ily lmao summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.
Yoongi loves the rain, really he does. The way the clouds gloom over the city, encompassing it in this darkness that reminds him of underexposed film. He wishes he could always see the world through this filter, always smell the scent of wet soil and tarmac as he makes his way through the streets. Something about hearing the soft patter hitting the sidewalk, bouncing off the rooftops and dripping from the gutters calms him. A soft smile spreads across his face as he exhales the smoke in his lungs, letting the stick hang loosely off his lips while his hands clutch onto his umbrella.
When he stomps his foot into a wide puddle, the cold water splashes up onto his ankle and he grimaces. He hates being caught in the middle of rain. It didn’t matter if he had his umbrella or not, or if he managed to bundle enough for the downpour, he hates stepping into puddles and getting his socks wet. Hates how some of the raindrops that slipped under his umbrella—since it was now raining sideways—have managed to make his cigarette slightly soggy.
Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth this time, he holds it in front of his face with a frown. It was halfway done but no longer burning properly due to how wet it had become.
What a waste.
As he passes a trash can, he stubs it out fully and tosses it inside, a small pout on his face at the loss of something to fidget with. But then he sees the glowing sign inching closer, the bright neon yellow standing out in the grim weather. The illuminated Rkive360 in the distance stops him from slipping out another smoke, choosing to stuff his unoccupied hand into the pocket of his jeans, moving his legs a little faster to get to his destination.
The bell at the top of the door jingles as he stumbles in, his foot tripping over the small lip of the mat by the door. That was a safety hazard he’d playfully bitch to Namjoon about later.
“Yoongi, hey!” When he balances out, closing his umbrella and giving it a good shake by the door, he looks up and grins at Taehyung. He spots him standing by a flat spread of clothes a few feet away, folding out some new items as he stares at Yoongi with a genuine smile. His curls flop over his eyes and Yoongi chuckles to himself as he wonders how a guy like him was here folding shirts when he should probably be the face of Gucci or something.
Well, that’s life.
“Hey man,” Yoongi mumbles out, his eyes catching the plastic bin beside the door that’s labeled ‘umbrellas here’ in a messy scribble he can only attribute to Taehyung. Not needing to be told twice, he sticks his dripping umbrella upside down into it and shuffles inside the shop, taking a minute to look around like he always did.
Record stores have always been his safe space, even as a teenager. The amount of time spent in one after school, loitering inside with his friends as he sorted through the racks of CDs and vinyl, exiting with his bag of new goodies that left him excited to get home and play them. It was god sent that his best friend decided to open up his own place years ago, keeping it fully stocked with anything he could imagine. Maybe Yoongi was a little biased, but this was definitely the best shop in the country.
It’s a welcoming place, pops of color in every corner, tall standing sculptures mixed in with displays of music, autographed albums and posters framed onto the wall behind the counter. It’s the full embodiment of his best friend, down to the tiny KAWS figurines perched beside the register and the music playing through the speakers. The small melody in the background fills his ears once the door is shut, recognizing the song playing as Dang! by Mac Miller and he bobs along as he approaches Taehyung.
“Quick question,” he starts, his hands coming up to shake at his gray hair that was slightly damp from the rain. Taehyung sets the shirt down, resting both of his palms on the table as he leans towards Yoongi with interest. “Any chance you guys miraculously got Seventeen Seconds in your stock this week?”
Taehyung hums in thought, his brows furrowing together as he tries to mentally sort through the massive boxes of new vinyl Namjoon had brought in a few days ago. New shipment comes once a week but every now and then Namjoon goes out of his way to find specific records, never missing with his selection.
A small flash of blurry trees crosses his mind and then he's smiling at him. “Yeah, we actually got it the other day. Pretty sure Namjoon hunted it down for you since you’ve been asking. It should be in the back.” His thumb points behind him, towards the display tables that held all the LP’s available at the store, a very familiar spot.
Yoongi mumbles out a thanks as he makes his way over, eyes already locked onto the bin that he knew would hold his prized possession. It’s not until he gets a few feet closer that he sees your crouched frame over a box, figure slightly hidden by a giant CD rack. You’re rummaging through the records, almost making him flinch when you quickly stand back up and find their proper spot in the display. You don’t notice him approaching until he’s right beside you, eyes once again glued to the bins lined in alphabetical order once the initial shock of another person subsided.
That’s when you give him a glance, sending him a soft smile as you slip the record in its rightful spot, crouching back down to grab the next bunch. His hand pauses on the edge of the bin at the glimpse of something familiar, momentarily distracted by your shirt. When you stand back up, feeling him staring at you, you slowly turn to face him once more with your eyebrows raised up in question.
He takes note of the tag clipped to your shirt, it reads Sana but he’s used to dealing with Sana and you are definitely not her. You’re new.
The smile remains on your lips as you rest your hip against the edge of the table holding up the record bins, preparing to put your best customer service voice to use. His eyes glance at the writing on your shirt again, cracking a grin when he confirms it's a New Order shirt tucked into your black jeans. “You like New Order?”
Your smile falters slightly, your arms crossing in front of you as you narrow your eyes at him in defense, not entirely sure how to take his tone. “If you’re about to ask me to name five of their songs I’ll have to walk away to avoid getting fired.”
His smile widens at that, soft and gummy, breaking his cold appearance as his arms raise up in front of him in surrender. “No, just an observation.”
Your demeanor softens again, your arms sagging back down to your sides and smiling once more. “Good, it's my first day on the job and I’d really like to keep it.”
Yoongi chuckles softly, going back to his searching for his precious album, leaning over the third bin dedicated to bands starting with the letter C. His nimble fingers flip through the LPs until he gets to the Cure, sorting through Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, passing Pornography until he reaches Wish and his brows furrow, flicking back and forth as if the album he wanted would magically appear.
“Need help finding something?” You speak up again when you take note of him sorting through the same chunk of vinyl. He grunts lightly, letting the stack slant back in a heap as he purses his lips.
“Yeah actually, Taehyung said you guys got the album Seventeen Seconds but I don’t see it.
You step back from reorganizing the bin labeled S, trying to remember if you had brought the record out or if it was still sitting in the second box ready to be unpacked. Your brain was already overwhelmed from all of the information you had been given on your first day, trying to unscramble the entire backroom and it’s countless boxes—most of which were unlabeled because Taehyung said it’s not necessary since he knows where everything is.
Much like Taehyung, you recall seeing a flash of the album cover when you sorted through the new box of records, knowing exactly where it was tucked away since you had been the one to store it. You were under strict orders to not put it out on the floor, because according to Namjoon, if someone else took this album you’d be attending his funeral.
“Oh, uh gimme a sec.” You shuffle away, leaving him behind as you approach Taehyung, still folding away. “Hey, Tae?”
He hums in question, turning to stare at you with a small smile. “Whats up?”
“That guy is asking for Seventeen Seconds but Namjoon told me he’d be murdered if I gave this out to anyone.”
Taehyung starts laughing instantly, setting the shirt down as he stares at a confused looking Yoongi still standing by the LP’s. “Yeah, he was saving it for him specifically.”
“Got it, okay. Thanks.” You make a beeline back to the tables at the back, passing Yoongi with a polite smile. “Be right back!” you exclaim, wagging your finger at him as you make your way towards the back room, clearly on a mission.
Yoongi just stands there as you enter the employee stock room, not trying to cross any professional lines and follow you since you have no idea who he is. It's only a few feet away and you left the door propped open so when a few minutes pass and he hears rustling, followed by a heavy sounding thud and some curse words, he can’t help but wander over and peak his head in.
“You okay?” he asks, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face when he sees the way you’re frozen, one foot on the ledge of the shelf and the other on a not so sturdy looking stool, caught in the act of a poorly made decision. Below you lay two brown boxes that carry shirts you’re meant to unpack later, definitely the cause of the loud thud he had heard.
“Yep,” you confirm as you pluck out the record you need, shoving the box back into its safe spot and hopping down haphazardly. “Here you go.”
Grabbing the record carefully, he flips it over to skim the track list and smiles widely when he looks back up at you. That familiar warmth fills his chest as he holds the new item, making him feel the same way he had as a teenager when he bought his first LP. He had been searching for this vinyl for months now. It wasn’t as if it was no longer in production, he just couldn’t seem to find it in stock anywhere he looked and buying it internationally was the last resort he would take since the shipping fees were downright illegal. “Thanks.”
You’re already hunched down on the floor as you open up one of the boxes that had fallen in your haste to scale the shelves, deciding to just unpack in now since you were here.
“Yeah, no problem. Tae can ring you up at the front.” Sending him off with a smile and a wave, he takes that as his cue to exit, making his way to the front again.
When he leaves the backroom you flop onto your butt with a huff, your legs sprawling out with the second box in between them. You were hoping your words didn’t come across as rude to him but you couldn’t take the way his sharp eyes stared at you. Had he lingered any longer you would have embarrassed yourself, it was a miracle your footing hadn’t slipped on your way down from the shelves. You can’t imagine your ego being able to recover from a tumble like that.
Taehyung spots Yoongi leaning against the front counter, setting the final shirt down and going to stand behind it with a smile. “Did you find everything okay?” he asks automatically, the general phrases they had to use coming out without a thought and Yoongi scoffs, sliding the record across the counter and nodding.
“Of course I did, you let Namjoon know that I said your customer service is unmatched.” His finger gently rubs against the first black KAWS figurine, smiling at the remaining four as he remembers how Namjoon had excitedly told him that this was their friend group, representing them all perfectly.
Taehyung grins with a roll of his eyes, scanning the album and slipping it into the brown paper bag they provided. “Wonderful. Your total is 40,000 won.”
“Wow, your customer service voice is phenomenal.”
Taehyung laughs now, his nose crinkling up at Yoongi's sarcastic tone, watching how Yoongi grins back at him, succeeding in getting him to crack. “Fuck you, man.”
“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi hums with a chuckle as he pulls out his wallet, sorting through his bills and handing them to Taehyung. “Who’s New Order girl?”
Tae raises his brows as he enters the amount into the POS, the drawer popping open against his hips. “Oh, Y/N?” Yoongi only shrugs, you had Sana’s name tag on so how the hell should he know.
Taehyung stuffs the money into the drawer and slams it shut, ripping off the receipt from the machine and slipping it into the bag. “She just started today, can’t remember where she moved from, some place far though.” He shrugs as he hands the bag over to Yoongi.
The older boy ruffles his damp hair up, accepting the bag with his right hand. “Oh, cool. Well thanks, I’ll see you guys later then?” Taehyung just waves him off with a smile, similar to the way you did and he laughs to himself when he realizes Taehyung must be the one in charge of training you.
As he approaches the front door he pulls out his pack of cigarettes once more, sliding one out and slipping it between his lips. He finds himself looking towards the back of the shop again, seeing you resuming your organization, but your head lifts up as you feel him staring at you from his spot at the door. The spark of his lighter flashes across his face when he lights up his smoke, opening his umbrella once more now that he's partially outside. When your eyes meet, he smiles around the stick, giving you a nod before turning and walking back out into the rain.
You watch as his figure disappears down the street, his dark silhouette blending in with the rest of the people roaming the city, and when you can no longer see him through the store window you turn towards Taehyung. He’s stood at the POS, fidgeting with the screen, but when you call his name he glances up at you. “Is he a regular?”
He nods in response, eyes going back to stare at the screen as he begins to print out a sheet to fulfill the online orders the store received. “Yeah, he comes in at least once a week. Buys strictly vinyl. I think Namjoon mentioned he’s a music producer, or maybe it was a DJ, I can’t remember.”
Taehyung evidently doesn’t have the best memory, that much had been made clear in the short span you’ve known him. He had forgotten your name twice during your interview, Namjoon having to subtly repeat it for him, he had also asked you three times where you were from and at first you thought he was joking but when his face remained serious you realized he had really forgotten already.
“Hey, where’d you move from again?” he asks one more, genuinely curious as if you hadn’t told him a handful of times already.
“I told you, Iceland.” It’s a lie, but when he hums in thought—pretending to suddenly remember—you chuckle at the newfound way to mess with him.
He’s quick to start questioning you about Iceland, nodding along to the lies you spill while you both go back to your tasks of sorting albums and folding shirts. It makes your first full shift eventful, passing jokes back and forth as the sky grows gloomier. As distracting as your conversations get, you can’t help but glance up through the windows whenever a dark clad figure walks by, the thought of the sharp eyed stranger lingering in your mind.
#min yoongi#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#bts fics#bts imagines#new#btswritingcafe#btsghostie#heartsforbts#bangtaninn#btscreatorscorner
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stray kids’ reactions when finding out that you’re pregnant ↠ all members
genre: reaction, fluff, angst word count: 3.3k warnings: discussion of pregnancy (obviously), mention of abortion, discussion of sex & kinks, swearing, suggestive request: yes (anon) a/n: i tried to make this inclusive of anyone who can and decides to bear children. this is in no reflects stray kids in reality, as this is purely a work of fiction. also, thanks to lin for the cheesecake and twirling bits~ reminder: respect a person’s right to choose whether they will have a child or not. it’s their business and their’s alone. if you have a problem with that, then perhaps this fic isn’t for you. and, please remember to practice safe sexual habits and always, always, get continued and enthusiastic consent!
✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧
↠↞
bang chan
a year after getting married
the two of you had decided to have children
and had been trying to conceive for maybe 5 months
for the first couple months, you’d both been stressed and so your bodies hadn’t exactly cooperated
but just this last time you’d tried, everything had been perfect
the mood was just right, you’d moved seamlessly together, it was exactly the right time of the month
everything was as it should be
so, a few weeks later
you’d called chan into the bathroom and taken the little test
having woken up feeling a little off
…..well, not necessarily off, but just different
you thought it’d be a good idea to take the pregnancy test
you sat on chan’s lap as the test slowly revealed the information
and since you’d done this several times before,
you leaned your head back against your husband’s shoulder, waiting with bated breath
after a few minutes, chan, who’d been looking down into your lap, rubbed your belly excitedly
“oh love, you’re pregnant!” he said,
you turned in chan’s arms and began to cry from sheer relief and happiness
you’d had a little nagging worry in the back of your mind that you might not be able to get pregnant
but it was just that now: meaningless worry
you couldn’t believe it
you were going to have chan’s baby
and honestly, you couldn’t think of a better person to be a father
chan was practically vibrating
because, oh my gods, he was so excited
i mean;;;
really!!
fucking!!!
excited!!!!!
he now gets to channel all his dad energy into
actually being a dad!!!
eeeeeep!!!!!
he’d been wanting to be a father and now he was!!!!
he was on cloud 9
and so he scooped you up to carry you to the bed, gently laying you down
“i’m not going to break like fine china” you giggled, and chan just kissed your nose
for the rest of the day, chan absolutely worshipped you (and your body)
making it extremely obvious that he was even more in love with you than before
that he would love you until the end of time and beyond
lee minho
you hadn’t exactly been trying to get pregnant
but pregnant you were
you’d used protection—two kinds!
and were careful
but sometimes that’s just not enough
you noticed that your period was late
only by a couple days but your cycles were freakishly regular
so, you went and got a pregnancy test
minho was at work when you called him
(he’d had to go in on a saturday to finish something ajhskjfh)
so you really just couldn't wait to tell him
when he picked up, you didn’t waste any time
“minho, i’m pregnant”
“WHAT??!!!”
you could practically hear minho’s look of shock through the phone
“i’m pregnant, minho. can you come home early so we can talk about this?”
“yeah i’ll be home as soon as i can!!”
you just curled up on the couch with the cats, waiting for him to get home
minho was a little panicky bc neither of you had planned for this
not now, if ever
the two of you were neck-deep in your careers
and had been doing perfectly fine without children
while the idea of it was nice, you knew that, realistically, you probably wouldn’t be able to support children
it seemed like you were being tested by the universe or something
as much as you didn’t want to admit it
the decision was fairly clear to you
so when minho came home
you’d been thinking about the situation for a long time
and had already cried once
“i can’t, min,” was the first thing you said when he sat down next to you
“i know, honey. it’s okay.”
“i feel horrible but i can’t have this child. we haven’t planned for this or anything. this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
your voice was a little shaky as you laid your head against minho’s shoulder
“so, what are you thinking you’ll do?”
minho’s voice is gentle and leaves all the space in the world for whatever answer you’ll give
“i— please don’t be mad?” you’re starting to worry now
“y/n, love, it’s completely your choice. you know that. i support you whether you decide to have the child or not.”
minho wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer
“i don’t think i can see this through right now, min,” you said quietly
he nods, knowing what your next words will be
“i’m going to get an abortion. it’s still so early—it’ll be fine.”
minho just held you as the weight of what you’d just said crashed down
but you knew it was the right choice
there was no way you were ready to have a child
minho was the most supportive and understanding he could be
you were glad that you’d chosen him as your life partner
and, if you ever did decide to have a child, you knew that he’d make a great father
just his reaction and support in this situation alone told you that much
maybe, just maybe, you’d try in a few years
seo changbin
you and changbin were kind of neutral on the whole “having kids” thing
you weren’t trying to get pregnant
but then again, you weren’t trying not to get pregnant
plus, you’d just found a new kink of changbin’s
he’d come home one night and was ~very much in the mood~
he was just praising you over and over, and telling you exactly how he was going to make you feel incredible
then one little thing slipped out, one totally new thing
“i’m gonna fill you up so well”
but there was no denying that it was insanely hot
especially in his slightly husky voice
he’d continued, over and over, his face buried in the crook of your neck
and by the end of the night, you’d felt a bit like an eclair with too much cream in it
it wasn’t your period that had alerted you
no, not that because your period was annoyingly irregular
it was when you started to feel a bit funny in the mornings
that you decided to take a pregnancy test
you’d been shocked (well, only a little bit) to find that you were indeed pregnant
you waited until changbin got home
and then sauntered up to him quite sexily
you trailed your fingers over his chest and whisper “hey baby”
changbin looked more than a little excited and was all “just give me a minute and then i’m all yours”
and then, you just dropped the news into the conversation like a child drops a particularly large rock into a pond
knowing there will be a splash but not really caring
“i’m pregnant” *y/n grinning like a fox*
changbin spluttered and had to lean against the wall for a moment
he finally got himself back under control
changbin: “well, i guess my impregnation kink paid off”
AKLJDHAKLDJFHGAKJDFH
y/n: “fucking hell bin, you’re not supposed to say that!”
changbin: “i’m right tho…..”
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
yeah okay changbin was right
and it had been a hot several weeks in the bedroom since he’d realized that kink
you definitely couldn’t complain
the two of you decided that you’re ready to be parents
and that, of course, you’d stay together
the child would have two completely devoted parents
who, when the child turned 25, would insist on telling them the story of their conception
changbin was absolutely over the moon
he couldn’t wait to cuddle you while your belly grows
bc you’d be even softer than usual
and absolutely lovely
just knowing you’re carrying his child makes him even more in love with you than he already was
hwang hyunjin
mild panic
nothing major
just thE FACT THAT HE GOT YOU PREGNANT
FUCK
F U C K
…………..
what if his mother found out
he’d definitely be dead as a doorknob, then
aNYwAy
hyunjin would be nothing but incredible
yeah, he wasn’t expecting that he’d get you pregnant
and you’d been on birth control and being very careful
he also completely expected you to not want to have the baby
and, really, he was okay with that
it was your body, after all
but when you told him that you were pregnant
and that you wanted to have the baby
he immediately went into full-on support mode
telling you he’d never, ever, leave you
and that he’d always be there for the kid, too
he snuggled you for hours
(literally some of the best snuggling you’d ever had)
just talking about how you’d be parents
and what color you should paint the child’s room
hyunjin voted for peach, since it’s a warm color that would both brighten the room and calm the little one
you also talked about whether, now that you were pregnant, you wanted to get married
“while i’d be heartbroken if i couldn’t marry you, y/n, i understand if you don’t want to.”
you’d immediately shot down that idea
“nope, i’m marrying you, hwang hyunjin. you’re not getting out of that one so easily!”
hyunjin was extremely relieved, since all he’d wanted to do since you’d started dating was marry you
and now he was going to!!!!
you’d kissed him thoroughly and were well on your way to doing more
when hyunjjin remembered that he should probably tell his mother that
a) he was getting married
and b) he was going to be a father
you promised to tell your parents, too
everyone was surprised, but not too surprised
your mother actually said she’d been waiting for one of those two things to happen so the two of you would just get it together and be together for the rest of your lives
(ajfgakjdfghalkj moooooooom;;;;; )
you decided to have the wedding after the baby was born
after all, you were committed to each other
and there was no reason to think otherwise
all you could think of as you lay in bed that night was how your child would definitely be taller than you by the time they were twelve
as hyunjin lay beside you, all he could think of was that the baby would have your smile
he was sure of it
and he knew that everything would be okay
as long as he kept you smiling
han jisung
jisung’s immediate response was:
“oh my god, we need cheesecake to celebrate!!!”
and proceeded to drag you out the door to buy cheesecake
he’d be just as excited as chan
and had definitely been thinking about what it’d be like to have kids with you
so when you’d told him you were pregnant
jisung was ecstatic
he’d already been thinking about names
and wasted no time in telling them to you
the day after you told him
you spent an entire day in bed, just talking about what you’d name your child
how you wanted to raise them
what you’d like to be called as parents
if there were things that you were completely against in parenting, you’d discuss those, too
aaaand after a particularly lovely morning in bed,
jisung just kinda mumbled to you
“baby, you’re gonna be so hot”
“ji what’re you talking about?? i’m not already hot?“
“you’re gonna be even hotter. when you’re showing. like, holy fuck!! just knowing you’re pregnant with my kid is the hottest thing ever. you’re gonna be an amazing parent—it’s all you! there wasn’t, um, much for me to do…”
“hmmm, enjoy it while it lasts, because i’m gonna have dark circles under my eyes for the next 10 years”
“you’ll still be hot as fuck, though, baby”
AKFJLHALKDFHSJKFH
he’s just really sweet and excited hhhhhh
jisung would also try to learn everything he could to support you
and make sure that you and the baby stay safe
oh and then that one time you went to the obstetrician for a routine check early on
and welp you’re having twins
jisung kind of freaked out
but mainly around his friends
to you, he was nothing but excited and totally ready to take on the challenge of raising two kids at once
yikes
but he would be determined to do everything right for the kids
and would be such a fun and loving father
lee felix
felix hadn’t said anything about it to you before
but once you’d gotten married
he’d really wanted to have kids
felix, though, being a sweetie, hadn’t brought it up because he wanted you to have full choice over whether you’d have kids
but he’d secretly hoped that you’d decide that having kids with him was what you wanted
so when you told him that you wanted to go off birth control
bc you thought it was time the two of you should start a family
felix felt like it was his lucky day
when you told him you’d waited long enough for the birth control not to affect you
felix had texted your friends, who were supposed to meet you for dinner, that something unavoidable and important had come up
and that you had to cancel
then, he’d pulled you into the bedroom and you hadn’t gotten any sleep
two months later, you told felix that you were, indeed, pregnant
he picked you up and spun you around, squeezing you so tight!!
and then put you down quickly, a look of horror on his face
“what if i just hurt you and,,,,the baby,,,,”
“felix it doesn’t work like that, you know that”
“true, sorry. just paranoid.
BUT OH MY GOD WE’RE HAVING A BABY!!!!!”
he kissed you so deeply that you thought he must have some merman in him
no normal human could go without proper breath that long
felix then called every single one of his friends and family to tell them the good news
he called chan twice by accident
and chan just acted like he’d never heard the news before
(chan texted you shortly thereafter, wondering if felix was okay)
felix was all smiles for weeks after,
telling anyone and everyone that he was going to be a father
he’d leave little post-its around for you with baby names
or would add random things to the shopping list, just to see if it was something you were craving
on more than one occasion, your cravings found new and surprisingly delicious food combinations that felix managed to create proper recipes for
once the baby was born,
felix’s favorite thing was to fall asleep with the baby on his chest
he’d sing soft lullabies to them, usually putting you to sleep, too
all he wanted to do was show both of you all the love in the world
kim seungmin
you’d called seungmin a month after a surprisingly wild night together
you’d been seeing each other off and on
just casually, nothing serious
mainly just physical but with a nice friendship
it was the perfect thing for two graduate students who sometimes needed to take the edge off
but now he—
fuck
he’d gotten you pregnant
he couldn’t believe it, especially since the two of you were always careful
you sounded so bewildered over the phone
and seungmin insisted that you meet up to talk about it
when he saw you, he immediately wrapped you in the tightest embrace possible
and just whispered “i’m sorry” over and over again
then, you had a long conversation about next steps
you wanted to have the baby,
since you’d wanted to have a child someday
and thought, seeing as you could actually provide for the child, you were fine with being pregnant
but you also wanted seungmin to be in the child’s life
he wholeheartedly agreed
and then…
and then you suggested actually dating
seungmin, who’d “caught” feelings months ago, was overjoyed
he was all for becoming a couple
and being there for you and the child in all ways he could
he began by asking you out on a date
and all you could do was laugh
bc here he was, the man who’d gotten you pregnant, asking you on a date
it was mildly ridiculous
but you said yes to him faster than you’d said yes to anything else before
seungmin researched the things pregnant people should and shouldn’t do
and then made sure not to suggest any of those things for dates
oh and he always had a little note in his wallet with the foods you shouldn’t eat, too
he just wanted the best for you
and completely spoiled you
seungmin felt a little guilty, as if he’d somehow tricked you into dating him
but you insisted that it was nothing like that
you truly wanted to be with him
and had, honestly, just been waiting for a chance to broach the subject
even after you decided to be life partners
and even after the baby was born
seungmin still felt amazed that he’d been lucky enough to end up with you
you were amazing
and the baby had your laugh,
which only made his world all that more brighter
yang jeongin
jeongin absolutely smothered you in kisses when you told him
it was as if he wanted to show his purest self
totally and unashamedly in love
and intent on showing it at all times
he’d carried you to your bedroom and told you to just rest
you’d giggled, insisting that you didn’t have to be bedridden yet
meanwhile, he’d gone to the kitchen and made you breakfast
he was determined to do everything for you
after all, another life was growing inside you
it was the least he could do
later that day, he started dismantling his office so it could be the child’s room
and insisted on going out and buying you every single piece of maternity clothing you could ever want
he researched all the right foods for you to eat while pregnant
and make sure to do a lead test on the paint in your slightly older home
(it was all okay, but he just wanted to check!)
jeongin was so, so excited that he was having a child with you
he couldn’t stop talking about it when you went to a small get-together of friends
he definitely told all his co-workers
and was just glowing with pride
jeongin had a list as long as his forearm of all the different baby names he loved
and he hoped that you would want more than one child
he was incredibly excited for the whole experience of being a father
after being the youngest in his friend group and being babied so much
he wanted to show that he could be responsible and mature
(even though he was already 34 years old and mature enough)
sometimes he acted a little silly and giddy
but who could blame him?!
bc after months of careful planning and attempts
you were pregnant!
and jeongin couldn’t be happier
he would show you and the child (or children!)
that life was sweeter than ambrosia
and that he’d love you with his whole being
completely and utterly, as deeply as he could
#inkidz#ultkpop#0325net#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#stray kids reactions#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader#skz#skz reactions#skz fanfic#skz fluff#skz angst#skz imagines#skz scenarios#bang chan#lee know#lee minho#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#skz felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#.moonlight#moonlit-han
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FIC: Keep Breathing (standalone)
Summary: Edge can handle this. He can. All he has to do is keep breathing.
Notes: I forget where I saw it, on twitter or discord, about Edge being unable to understand what he felt when he saw Stretch. This is what sort of evolved from it.
Tags: Spicyhoney, Papcest, Angst, Feels, LV Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence
~~~~
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~~*~~
Breathing, that was what was important. In, out, deep, slow breaths. It took a few before the icy Snowdin air seemed to help smother the fire currently burning in his chest. Edge kept it up, slow breaths, in and out, and he didn’t have lungs, but he still needed air, his magic greedily incorporating the oxygen as the sense of smothering he’d felt in the Swap brothers’ house faded.
His bones felt hot and achy, the snow beneath him melting and soaking into his trousers as he sat curled up on the ground behind the house, out of view of any passersby on the streets. Not far away he could hear the crunch of footsteps and words blurred by distance, pedestrians heading to the shops or perhaps Muffet’s for a treat. Their laughter was clearer, unknowing that he was close by and listening, and Edge buried his face into his updrawn knees and did not wonder at what they might think if they saw him here, if their concern would turn to fear with a simple Check.
It was rare that he made such a foolish mistake. If his brother’s lessons hadn’t taught him caution, then life in Underfell certainly had. One was cautious or one was dead, there was little room for error. Although foolish was far too sedate a word for this. Insanity might be closer, to come here to this softer world with his LV still sizzling in his soul. He’d thought it was safe, that it had settled enough or perhaps wished it so desperately to be true that he’d convinced himself it was.
He should have known better.
Bounty hunters were supposed to restrain themselves to the deeper parts of Snowdin woods where no one lived, only existed, those who lumbered about with their minds lost to their LV. Supposed to, but anyone willing to bounty usually had high LV themselves and the irony that they would probably become what they hunted in the end was not often lost on them. When they were teetering between hunter and hunted, anyone unlucky enough to cross their path could be the one to set them off and send them over the brink. Edge’s luck had been especially poor today to come across a hunting pair while checking the traplines and if he’d been only slightly slower, a fraction less dedicated to his training, he would have simply been more dust added to their growing pile.
He hadn’t killed them, though it had been a near thing. Only taken them down to one HP and left them panting in the snow to either drag themselves away to try healing or perhaps finish each other off. Either way, they were likely as good as dead, but he refused to take them over the line. His own LV was already high enough, he shuddered to think of the amount of XP that would come from killing a hunter, much less two. He hadn’t stayed to see which option they chose, only hurried back to Snowdin proper without trying to seem as if he was hurrying. The walk had seemed endless, fraught with peril as anyone who dared check him would find him vulnerable. No one did, their ingrained wariness of the guard keeping them from trying their chances.
He’d arrived home with no fresh XP, but his soul still felt as if it were lit on fire from deep within, crying greedily for more. He likened it to a voice in the back of his skull, one that grew louder with every LV up and made cold demands for more payment in dust. He’d learned to ignore it, mostly, except for these moments when his soul felt as if it was swelling in his ribcage, hovering hot and bloated in his chest, and wresting control back seemed to take longer every time.
He should have called Blue then to cancel their cooking lesson, offered his regrets and made plans for another day. He should have and hadn’t, selfishly telling himself that he had it under control because he hadn’t wanted to cancel. He’d wanted to come to their shared cooking lessons, wanted to be here in this world with its abundant supplies and residents that walked the streets easily without having to peer out their front doors before stepping out into crisp air that didn’t taste of bitter, lingering dust. The same air he was so desperately inhaling now.
Tacos were the order of the day, a simple dish with a thousand variations. He’d been helping Blue chop up the brisket that’d already spent the day roasting slowly in the oven and he'd absently reached for a scrap of gristle that would otherwise be heading to the waste bin, only to have Blue playfully slap his hand away.
"Ah, ah,” he’d laughed, his starry eye lights bright and amused, “you'll spoil your appetite."
And in that one split second, his control broke free of his increasingly tenuous grasp and he'd nearly struck back. He could still see his intention in his mind's eye, to slap this little aggravation out of his way, how dare they lay a hand on him when they should be cowering at his feet, how dare they, how—
He'd reeled it back in almost instantly, but the damage was done, the urge lingering. He wouldn’t allow it control. He couldn’t. Edge turned on his heel and walked out, ignoring Blue's confused calls for him to come back, he was only teasing, Edge…?
He ignored it all, hasty strides taking him out into the cold snow, fleeing as if the hunters were still scrabbling at his heels and not one small, confused skeleton. He’d gone, one hand clawing at the front of his shirt to let in some much-needed cold air and didn’t stop until he was around the house at the back door that led downstairs to the machine. His boots slid in snow hardpacked from so many others walking through it and he’d slipped, falling heavily to the ground. His flight back to Underfell paused as he crawled over to lean against the house and all he could do was heave in long, slow breaths to ease the aching burn in his chest.
Around him, lights were coming from the windows of the other little houses, cutting through the darkness. Artificial dusk had fallen at some point after he’d arrived, and those houses were filled with Monsters who had no idea who was in their midst. Their souls weren’t like his; they were innocent, as pure as Blue’s, and—
Blue.
He’d been so confused, apologizing profusely even without knowing what he was apologizing for. Edge would have to think of something to tell him, some excuse for his poor manners. Better for Blue to think Edge rude than the alternative; that he’d very nearly beaten him bloody in his own kitchen for the tiny sin of teasing. He needed to get and keep control over himself, and right quickly. Any moment now Blue might come looking at him, all innocent, solicitous concern.
He didn’t want Blue to see him right now, didn’t want anyone to see him. But the voice that suddenly came was from no one he’d considered at all.
“you okay?”
Edge whipped around to see Stretch leaning around enough to peer around the corner, his lower half still concealed by the house. One of his ever-present cigarettes was smoldering between two fingers, ash falling from the tip into the snow, so much like dust—
“What the hell do you want?” Edge snarled, his guilt suddenly swirling with the tension Stretch always brought with him. There was something about Stretch that had simply irritated him at first sight, something that he couldn’t put to words. It couldn’t be his lazy ways or his attitude or even his way of dress. Sans was much the same and he didn’t provoke the same reaction. But there was something, something in his enigmatic smile or the cant of his hips that made Edge’s soul stir in a way reminiscent of LV. Like now, fanning the already agitated heat inside him even hotter.
Stretch only shrugged. He’d always taken Edge’s dislike of him in stride, offering the occasional sly insult and little more. “just what it says on the box. are you okay?”
Someone of the science mind might find it interesting that all of them sounded so differently. Papyrus’s voice was surprisingly nasally for someone who had no nose, and Edge’s own ranged into higher pitch, almost a screech at times, and it took considerable effort to keep it to a lower tone. The low rasp of Stretch’s, like velvet polishing marble, was surely a sign of the Universe’s bizarre sense of humor; he didn’t deserve such a voice to use while he snored his life away.
“I’m fine,” Edge said shortly.
“uh huh. fine. you’re always fine, huh. bet your ass you are.” He exhaled smoke through his nasal aperture and it wreathed his face, his cigarette glowed brighter as he took another drag. The glowing ember briefly illuminating his face, giving it an eldritch cast and making his resemblance to Edge even more uncanny than normal. "even when you’re not.”
Did he know what Edge had been thinking? Difficult to say with him, there were times when Edge envied that carelessly bland expression, so difficult to read, even for his own brother.
“Am I supposed to be grateful for your concern?” Edge asked instead. “I see you looking at me. I know what you think of me.”
“yeah?” Stretch said mildly. “you think you got the inside scoop of what’s on my mind?”
Edge closed his mouth hard and turned away. No, no, he didn't and that was part of the problem, wasn't it. He didn’t know what went on in that head, couldn’t begin to guess. He only knew that despite sharing a face, it was nothing like what was in his own.
Stretch finally stepped around the corner entirely, sauntering closer and seeming not to notice Edge’s barely stifled flinch even as he snarled, “Get that filthy thing away from me—"
He trailed away as Stretch tamped out the cigarette on the bottom of his sneaker before he could finish, tucking the remaining butt into his pocket.
Stretch sat down next to him, seemingly equally unperturbed by the snow soaking into his clothes and Edge’s unwelcoming expression. Not touching, but close enough if one want to reach out a hand. Or a fist.
“what am i thinking,” Stretch mused, “hm. tell you what, let me give you a quick rundown. right now, i’m thinking that i wanted to check on you ‘cause you ran out of my house like you were getting chased by a bony bat out of hell. even my little bro’s most creative cooking ain’t that bad. i wanted to make sure you're okay.” He shrugged, an easy roll of shoulders. “that's it, it's not that deep.”
That was untrue. The fact that he came out at all meant something and Edge didn’t understand what. Unless his goal was to keep Blue away, a sensible choice if that were so.
Stretch didn’t wait for him to gather his wandering thoughts. "you think you know what’s on my mind? let me tell you something. you come from the wrong side of the multiverse and shit is rough for you, right? you think i don’t get that? you think that sitting here cushy in my slice of the universe means i don’t get what it’s like for you?” He tipped his head towards Edge, half a smirk lifting the side of his mouth and Edge wondered if he were being mocked. “well, you’re right. i don’t. but only takes one look at your face to guess that.” His hands didn’t seem to know what to do without their usual vice. They rested on his knees, his thumbs rubbing absent circles against the coarse material of his cargo pants. “i don’t know what it’s like to live in your ‘verse and you only think you know what it’s like in mine. we’re that much alike, ain’t we.”
“I have LV.” And you don’t was left unspoken.
“i know. but i’d be the last person to judge you about that.” His smirk twisted into something almost bitter, some humor that Edge couldn’t place. “the very last.” Stretch sighed and climbed to his feet with a groan, pressing both hands into the base of his spine as he arched. He held out a hand and after a moment, Edge took it. his gloved fingers against Stretch’s bare ones. ”come on, my bro’s been working hard on his weird ass tacos. ‘preciate if you could choke down a bite or t—hey!”
His yelp was loud, echoing then lost in the cavern overhead. The moment he was on his feet, Edge pushed Stretch against the house and finally that casual façade cracked, his sockets startled and wide as Edge pinned him against the wall. That hot, heavy feeling in his soul surged again, overwhelming the linger dregs of LV and all Edge wanted was to wipe away that easy smirk, touch the untouchable.
Only that startled expression changed into something else, unexpected and unreadable. “well, now, didn’t know this was already on the menu.”
“What?” Edge only managed that single word before Stretch kissed him, full and hard, right on the mouth. His teeth were already parted and Stretch’s tongue slipped smoothly between them, moving against his own. Edge might have expected the taste of cigarettes and it was there, a little, the slightest taint of ashy nicotine. That taste was quickly swallowed up, engulfed, transmuting into unknown honeyed sweetness and warmth.
Stretch’s hands were resting on Edge’s chest, his bare, bony palms flat against his uniform shirt, bleeding warmth through the cold air around them and it was too fast, too much. Edge jerked back and stared speechlessly into Stretch’s face. His eye sockets were half-closed and within them, lights burned, their normal pale hue tinged with a strange cocktail of orange and blue.
His mouth moved as Edge stared, reforming that lazy smirk before he said, “you wanna go right here or take this up to my room?”
The words made no sense to him, nothing but pointless yammering. Then he realized he still had Stretch pinned against a wall, pressed to him from chest to pelvis.
Oh. He thought Edge wanted sex. He didn’t, that wasn’t why, but the actual reasons were fuzzy now, distorted. Why had he pinned Stretch to the wall? He was no longer certain. That confusing roil in his soul whenever he saw Stretch only surged harder as if straining inside his ribcage, LV only a careless afterthought, drowned out by the taste of sweetness lingering on his tongue. He breathed in hard through his teeth, but the cold air didn’t deaden that tingle, the burn shifting from his soul to his mouth. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand, he couldn’t—
Edge backed off, almost stumbling as he stuttered out, “I…I didn’t…”
That easy sultry expression shifted, Stretch’s gaze narrowing. “no, you didn’t, did you. pity,” he murmured. He dusted himself off as if to sweep away any lingering traces of Edge’s touch, already reaching into his pocket for his lighter and cigarettes. “welp. on we go, then, to dinner and probable indigestion.”
All Edge could do was follow him, noting that his back was infuriatingly dry while Edge could feel his own snow-wet clothes clinging uncomfortable to his bones.
Stretch turned the corner and abruptly stopped, wariness dropping briefly across his face before it smoothed away. Edge didn’t think, pushed in front of him automatically to face whatever threat dared to invade this world and instead found his own brother standing there.
With his slouching stance and his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, some might mistake Red for harmless. It was a mistake few survived and even Edge was wary of that casual menace. Red’s gaze narrowed as he looked at them, crimson eye lights sweeping over them both. He ran his tongue over his teeth, the tip digging into the gold one. “heya, ashtray. whatcha doing out here with my bro?”
The lazy warning was unmistakable, and Edge stiffened, already bracing himself to take the brunt of his brother’s temper. Stretch only stepped around him, flashing that careless smile as he tucked a cigarette into the corner of his mouth. He cupped his hands around the flame of his lighter, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he said, “nothing i wouldn’t do with you.”
“that ain’t much reassurance.”
“heh. wasn’t trying to be.” He strolled on, skirting around Red with an extra sway in his narrow hips as if he was just another obstacle in his path and left Edge to deal with his brother.
The moment he was out of sight, Edge swung around to glare at Red.
It had little effect on his brother, it never had. He only offered his own shrug, the roll of his shoulders infuriatingly similar to Stretch’s. “just makin’ sure you ain’t gonna lose your head, boss.”
Edge narrowed his gaze, hissing out, “I don’t need your help!”
“no?”
The word was soaked in doubt and Edge stormed past him, ignoring whatever else Red said as he went back into the house where Blue was surely waiting. There were apologies to be made and tacos to be eaten. At least whatever it was that Stretch stirred in his soul had settled his LV, that heat was banked back, for now. He could handle anything else that came his way, he didn’t need help from anyone, not even his brother, and if seeing Stretch sitting at the dinner table made him inhale slowly through his open mouth, his mouth watering not from tacos but from a memory of sweetness, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if that taste lingered, if that strange feeling still sat heavy in his soul.
None of it mattered, so long as he kept breathing.
-finis-
#spicyhoney#papcest#keelywolfe#underfell#underswap#underfell papyrus#underswap papyrus#underfell sans#underswap sans#standalone
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story, DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics), Young Justice (Comics), Robin (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kyubey (PMMM), Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Alternate Universe - Madoka Magica Fusion, Soul Gems (Madoka Magica), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Magical Boys, Origin Story, No Beta We Die Like Mami, Don't Have to Know Madoka Magica Canon, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent Series: Part 1 of Eques Magi: Originem - Magicka Knights: Origin Summary:
"The Labyrinths of Gotham City are so tightly concentrated, no human born here can escape the influence of at least one or two Witches, if not more. Despite the aura of despair and the constant work of the Witches' various Familiars, there are still those souls who persist in clinging to hope and will do whatever they can to try and make this city a better place, even though all their efforts will ultimately fail in the end.
"It's the perfect environment to find a new Magicka Knight."
---
"Have you ever seen an albino cat?"
Catwoman, aka Selina Kyle, glanced over at Batman's newest Robin curiously. She hadn't been expecting to cross paths with him, but since it was obvious the Big Bad Bat was out of town and Nightwing hadn't shown up at all in the past week, she decided to keep an eye on the new kid for at least the evening. He certainly wasn't like the previous Robin. This thirteen-year-old boy was quiet and thoughtful, which had been quite a change from the previous brash impulsive kid Batman had been mentoring a little over a year ago before they were murdered by the Joker.
She also noticed that this Robin was glancing over his shoulder at something on the rooftop on the other side of the street. "An albino, huh?" she said as she tried to follow his gaze. However, despite using her binoculars to zoom in on the far rooftop, she couldn't see any sign of any animal, feline, albino, or otherwise. "I've heard of them, but never seen one in person," Selina admitted casually as she put away her binoculars. "They are extremely rare." She smiled at Robin. "Have you seen one around town?"
Robin leaned against his bo staff thoughtfully. "I think so, but I'm not really sure."
"Not sure?"
The boy looked up at Selina earnestly. "Y'know how a cat has two pointed ears about here?" Amusingly to the professional cat burglar, Robin made a vague pair of cat-ear shapes with his hand at the top of his head. She smiled affectionately.
"Yeah. It's kind of a defining cat trait, having pointy ears."
Robin pouted slightly at the teasing tone he caught in Catwoman's voice. Then he continued. "Well... This cat I've been seeing... It looks like they have a second set of ears too."
"A second set?"
He nodded. He made a motion with his hands that seemed to make another vague shape that started at the base of where the cat's ears ought to be and downward along either side of its head. "Yeah. They kinda start out here and go all the way down there."
"Are you sure what you're looking at is an albino 'cat'? That kinda sounds more like a white rabbit to me."
"But it has pointy ears like a cat," Robin argued. "And its got a long fluffy tail, and its legs are like a cat's." The young teenager frowned slightly. "It's really weird looking."
"Well it does sound like a unique creature, whatever it is," Selina said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's some sort of cryptid or mutant? This is Gotham after all." She smiled at Robin. "Tell ya what. If you can catch a photo of the critter, I promise I'll take a good hard look and let you know if it's a cat, a rabbit, or something completely different." Then she gave him an almost stern maternal look. "But be careful. Don't get too close. If it does turn out to be something 'not normal', it could be dangerous."
"Okay."
---
It was two nights later and Tim Drake, fully decked out as Robin for another solo patrol, had just finished trussing up a pair of would-be carjackers. As soon as he placed the anon call to the Gotham PD for pickup, he glanced up to fire his grapple gun and froze.
There, on the rooftop above him, was a familiar white shape with two sets of ears and red eyes. The "cat" was peering down. He could see the animal's long fluffy tail swishing this way and that. Tim's breath caught in his throat. This was the closest he'd ever seen the animal come to him before. Rather than risk his grapple gun startling the animal and scaring it away, the young vigilante quickly indulged in some impromptu parkour up a garbage bin and a chain link fence to reach the metal fire escape attached to the side of the building.
When he pulled himself on the rooftop, Tim was disappointed to find that it appeared to be empty. Not a trace of red eyes or white fur anywhere. He walked across the roof slowly, scanning the area for any sign of the small creature as he pulled out a small portable camera from his utility belt. "Hey there," he whispered softly. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. I'm not going to hurt you. C'mon out please. I just wanna take a picture."
When no one came out of hiding, Tim tried a different tactic. He reached into another pouch on his belt and pulled out a small package of beef jerky. He shook the bag temptingly before opening it and setting it on the ground before stepping away from it. "Got some food here if you want. All for you."
"Thank you, but no. I'm not hungry."
Tim froze. Then he glanced around himself as quickly as he could before zeroing in on the form of the albino "cat" sitting on top of a large A/C unit just a few yards away from him, its white body practically glowing against the cloudy night sky of Gotham City. This close, Tim could see this was not a normal "cat". It did appear to have two sets of ears, but the two longer rabbit-like ones had golden rings attached to them and were tipped in pink with red spots. Its tail also appeared to be unnaturally long as it swished back and forth casually.
"Did you... just... talk?"
The cat-like creature flicked its smaller pointy ears. "Of course I did!" it said in a childlike voice without moving its mouth at all. Its long white tail finally stopped swishing and settled into a question mark shape behind it. "How else am I supposed to introduce myself?"
---
Tim Drake gave up caffeine for the rest of the week. When the boy returned to the Cave from patrol and declared that he was quitting cold turkey, Alfred asked about it curiously. All the old butler got from the thirteen year old was a confusingly vague answer about talking albino cats with pink ears and clearly not enough sleep with too much stress before marching himself into the showers before he would make his eventual way back to his bedroom.
---
Unfortunately for Tim, giving up his favorite sodas, teas, and coffee did not stop the appearances of the strange cat-like hallucination that had introduced itself as "Kyubey" and seemed hell bent on following him and talking to him both day and night, in and out of uniform.
"You think I'm a figment of your imagination?"
Tim sighed as he reached over the creature sitting in his high school locker in order to grab his workbooks for math and english. "I'm not talking to you here," he whispered as he slammed the locker door in hopes of locking the hallucination behind it.
"It's probably better that you don't, at least not out loud," Kyubey agreed, after reappearing on the top of the locker to look down on Tim. "If people catch you talking to something they can't see, they might think you're losing your mind."
Somehow, Tim managed to choke down the near hysterical giggle that wanted to bubble up at that matter-of-fact remark. Kyubey had made it quite clear that night on the rooftop that no one else could see them except Tim.
"Besides, why waste your breath?" Kyubey said as they trotted along the top of the lockers, keeping pace with Tim as he walked to his next class. "We can speak telepathically just fine."
Tim paused at the end of the lockers and glanced at Kyubey. "Telepathically?" he asked experimentally without voicing the word.
"See! Easy!"
"Oh my god, I AM losing my mind," he thought with a grimace before sighing and stepping into the classroom and tried to ignore Kyubey as best he could for the rest of his school day.
---
"So why are you here?" Tim finally asked Kyubey after tossing down his pencil and finally giving up on trying to concentrate on his homework. "What is my subconscious trying to tell me?"
"I'm not your subconscious, and I'm not a hallucination. I'm a messenger of magic."
Tim raised his eyebrows at Kyubey as he echoed incredulously, "A messenger of magic?"
The cat-like creature made themself comfortable on Tim's bed. "That's right."
The teen noted with a slight measure of concern that he could see the disturbance Kyubey's form made on his pillow and blanket, proving that, at least right now, they had a solid physical state. Still, he was not about to reach out and try to touch the creature. "I'm probably going to regret asking this, but why is a 'messenger of magic' in Gotham City, and why am I the only one who can see and speak with you?"
"I'm on a mission to find people with the potential to become Magicka Knights to fight Witches and save the Universe, and you have that potential."
"Seriously? Magical knights? Actual witches?" Tim shook his head as he scoffed lightly. "This sounds like the plot of some generic magical girl anime."
Kyubey titled their head to one side. "And you and your mentor go out at night in masks to fight criminals who can control plants, have freeze guns, are living clay, and are occasionally half reptiles. How is that more believable than Magicka Knights and Witches?"
Tim snickered awkwardly. "I guess I'm in no position to throw stones in glass houses."
"You really aren't."
---
Finally! Bruce was back from his Justice League mission and he was going to go out on patrol with Tim. Batman and Robin flying through Gotham City for the first time in over two weeks.
At least that was the plan until a call came through from Oracle barely an hour into their patrol.
"A report of potential Joker gas exposure has been put out by the GCPD in Chinatown near the Dragon's Den."
Batman and Robin paused on the roof of St. Peter's Cathedral. Tim felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach as he took in the tightness of his mentor's jawline. He knew what was coming next.
"Go home, Robin."
"But B--"
"It's the Joker. I need to handle this alone."
"You don't have to. I can stay out of the way and watch your back. Make sure no one gets the drop on you."
Batman shook his head. "Head back to the Cave, Robin."
The leather of Robin's gloves creaked a little as he clenched his hand into a fist and turned away from his mentor. "Fine."
Without even looking, Tim could tell when he was left alone on the cathedral's roof with just the gargoyles for company.
Then, he wasn't alone.
"He doesn't trust you?"
Tim looked up to see Kyubey sitting on the head of a nearby gargoyle. He sighed. "It's not like that," he said telepathically. No need to risk Oracle or Agent A overhearing him talking to Kyubey. Not like the mic would pick up the magical creature's voice anyways. Still, better safe than sorry. "The Joker is really dangerous. He killed the Robin who came before me. B just doesn't want to risk me being anywhere near him."
Suddenly, Tim heard a pinging from his comm link, a sign that Oracle was attempting to signal him. "Yes O?"
"I know B ordered you home, but do you think you could swing by Amusement Mile along the way? I got a report on a Mad Hatter sighting there."
Tim brightened visibly at the prospect. "Sure!" He reached for his grapple gun and loaded a cartridge. "Any idea what he's up to?"
"There have been earlier reports over the last few months of missing girls fitting the Hatter's preferred victim profile. Children with long blond hair under the age of twelve. But since the children are usually street kids or runaways, most attempts to investigate by the police have been half-hearted at best. Those that have tried haven't found anything but dead ends."
"Well, that's going to come to a stop tonight." Tim declared confidently.
"Be careful Robin," Oracle warned. "Focus on recon tonight. Don't engage Hatter unless absolutely necessary."
"Understood!"
---
"What's this?"
At Amusement Mile, Tim was just in time to stop a kidnapping in progress. While the sudden appearance of Robin was enough to send the Mad Hatter scurrying away into the shadows, the young vigilante reluctantly let him go in favor of caring for the victim, a child of eight or nine who appeared to be in a catatonic state.
However, nothing Tim did seemed to be able to wake her up. He was about to notify O to call an ambulance when he noticed a small red mark, like a tattoo, on the girl's neck, right above her pulse point. It was about the size of a quarter and looked like the symbol used in chess to designate the Queen piece.
"Hey O. I found a weird tattoo on the girl. Sending you a pic now." Tim quickly snapped a photo and sent it electronically to Oracle. A moment later, he got a response.
"Are you sure you sent me the right photo?"
"What do you mean?"
"There's no tattoo in the pic. All I see is a bare neck."
Tim opened the monitor of his camera and his eyes went wide. Even on the camera, the girl's neck had no tattoo. He took several more pics to be sure, but despite being able to see the crown icon with his own eyes, they defied being photographed.
"Not sure what's going on, but I can't take a pic of it," he told Oracle. "Maybe it's some sort of weird ink that comes up invisible on cameras?"
"That's not it."
Tim glanced at Kyubey, who was sitting beside the girl. The white creature sniffed at the tattoo. "That's a Witch's Kiss."
He felt his chest tighten a bit at Kyubey's words. Tim carefully masked the sudden nervousness he felt in his voice. "Can you call an ambulance to pick up the girl? I'm going to investigate the area and try to find out where Hatter ran off to."
"Will do. Be careful."
Once the comm was silenced again and after the EMTs came to pick up the rescued child, Robin backed into a secluded alleyway and hid within the shadows before addressing Kyubey telepathically.
"What's a Witch's Kiss?"
"It's a mark used by Witches and familiars to control the minds of their prey."
Tim felt a shiver run down his spine. Still he continued. "Is... the Mad Hatter a Witch?"
Kyubey tilted their head thoughtfully before shaking in the negative. "No. I think he's just a familiar being used to bring humans to a Witch's Labyrinth."
"Why? Why would a Witch want a human child?"
Kyubey sighed. "A Witch is a creature that feeds on misery and sadness," they said very matter-of-factly. "What could be more delicious to a Witch than the grief and fear of a kidnapped child? At least this one seems to prefer the despair of children in particular."
A sudden sensation of dread settled over Tim. "That's.... That's horrible! We can't let this continue!"
"But you can't stop them."
"Why not?" Tim's righteous indignation flared up. "Batman's stopped the Mad Hatter dozens of times. Why can't I?"
"Most likely it's because your mentor has never captured him near his Witch, and never within an actual Labyrinth." Kyubey stared at Tim with their round red eyes, their stoic tone never wavering. "You're just a human being, and so is he under all that armor. Even with all your training, there's no way your frail human bodies can endure the strain of fighting a Witch and their familiars in their own Labyrinth. If you get trapped in a Labyrinth, there's no way out until either the Witch is dead or you are."
Tim watched the retreating lights of the ambulance carrying the nearly kidnapped child away. Then he took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"Can you help me find the Witch's Labyrinth?"
"I can."
---
He was going to die.
Tim leaned against the wall and watched helplessly as his blood flowed freely from beneath and between his fingers to pool on the floor under him despite the pressure he tried to keep on the wound in his stomach. The Witch's familiars, not just the Mad Hatter, but a March Hare and other fictional characters pulled straight from the story Alice in Wonderland, had been too numerous and too merciless for him to fight off alone.
The Witch herself, in the guise of a twisted Queen of Hearts, shrieked for his head through the twists and turns of her Labyrinth.
͙̹̫ͪ̆̏͝ "̶͚̜̪̣̬͇ͭ͑ͅOͩͫ̄͏̬͖̳ Ḟ̖̝̟̜͖̭͑͢ F̡̜̼̰͓͍̟͎͇̆̾̐ ̨͚̫̗ͮ̚ͅ W̐ͧ̑͏͍͎͍̖̤̥ͅI͓͙̤͔̺̦͌̓̌̍͠T̖͍͒͛͢H̡̳̪̭̹̺̒̓̿ ̹̥͉̟͙̝͓̅ͫ͝H̸̝̬̘͕̩͙̤͇̾ͥ͂Į̯͔̦͖̳̣ͥ̌͆̂S͆̑ͪ͏̦̥̭̺̞̳̪͔ ͙̪̯͗̑͞Hͧ͏̤̯̪̩ E̶̯̣̰͌̆ͨͯ A̬̦̻͍͒͝ͅD̖̹͂͒͟ !ͫͯ́͆҉̺̦̩̹̺
̠͓͈͎ͧͨ͡Ō̵̪̻̭̩̯F̣͙̲̖̈́̋͝ F̌̅̾̓͏̭̺̰͉̹̖̯ ̡̮͔͇͚̬͎̝͊̆ͪͅŴ͙̠̽ I̘̬͇̖͑͂̏̂͞ T̨̗̫̜͙̩̖̮͒ H̴̙̝̀ͥͣ̚ ̘̯̮̺̥ͣ̑̄H̻̭͇̮̮͕͗͗ͬ̊͠ͅ Iͮͪ͋͏̬̺̖̝̥̭̘ͅ S̵̝̖̙̿ ̛̬̳̠̪̰̑͗̽ H̸͙̟̱̝̳̰̄͑̃̊ Ě̳͓̝̗͎͟ A̴̤͖̬̖͓͇̖͗̆ͫ́Ḋ̜͚̬̐̋͟!̨͇͚̞̩͚̗̣̿
Ơ͚̹̜̥ͮͥ͑̏F̴̯̤̮͉̰ͫF͈̱͍̌ͩͥ̍̕ͅ ̧͎͕̱͚͍̥͔̐W̩̦̯̹̏͊̏̌̕I͐҉͕̪͔̥̞̭͈̲T̖̝̖̪̑̿̓͢H̤̠͍̣̻̠͚ͧ̍̐̿͢ ̴̲̖̫̫̺ͭH̗̤̒̆͆͡Î̤͓̭̻̝Ș̵͉͔͙̗̝̌̍̍ͬͅ ͎̫͉̞̲͆͡Ḫ̨̪̅ͧ̏E̵̮̲̩̤͓̱̙ͦÁ̻̦̘̜̂ͩ͝D̸̯͖̦͔̲͕̠̜̓̓̆̚!̨͖̓̐̈́ͪ̏ͅ҉̬͉̰̫"̙̺̬̯̹̦͖͛͗͘
Her magic.. too powerful.
His… everything... too weak.
Trapped in this magical Labyrinth that resembled a scene from Wonderland, he couldn't even get a signal out to call for a rescue. He'd tried early on to call Oracle... Nightwing... Agent A... Batman... But the only thing he got for his troubles was static.
Tim felt tears flow down his cheeks as his vision became dark and hazy around the edges and his limbs began to grow numb. He could hear the sounds of his pursuers coming closer, searching for him, and he just didn't have the strength anymore to run. All he could do was hide and wait for the inevitable.
Batman was going to lose another Robin.
Dick was going to lose another little brother.
Jack Drake was going to lose his only son.
He was going to die.
"Oh dear. I was almost too late."
A set of dainty white paws walked into his sight line, contrasting starkly against the pool of crimson blood on the floor. Weakly, Tim lifted his gaze.
"Kyubey?"
The magical creature stepped closer to the fallen teenager and took a seat in front of him. They tilted their head slightly. "I tried to warn you. A normal human isn't able to fight a Witch. Only a Magicka Knight has the power to defend against a Witch's curses and attack them in kind."
"I know," Tim whispered. "I should've listened to you."
Kyubey titled their head to the other side. "It's not too late. You can still listen to me."
Despite the cold feeling in his limbs and the shadows in his vision, Tim did his level best to keep his gaze locked on Kyubey, on the one bright spot in his dying world.
"If you enter a contract with me, you can become a Magicka Knight." Kyubey explained. "You'd be duty bound to fight Witches, but in return I can grant you one wish. Anything in the world your heart desires."
"If I become a Magicka Knight, I'll have to fight this Witch right away, right?"
"I'm afraid so. It's the only way to escape her Labyrinth."
"And there's no guarantee I'll win?"
"I won't lie to you. Turning you into a Magicka Knight is not a promise of victory. But at least you'll have a fighting chance."
Tim closed his eyes and smiled sadly. "Then I want to make a wish that can outlive me, in case I die." When he opened his eyes, tears slipped down his cheeks again. "I wish Bruce Wayne's son, Jason Todd, was alive."
Kyubey's round red eyes seemed to shimmer in the darkness, and the twin gold rings that encircled their longer set of ears started to glow brightly even as Tim's vision finally faded into blackness. As his consciousness slipped away, he heard Kyubey's voice, as if it was very far away.
"As you wish."
---
"Dinner was great, Alfred. Thank you." Tim set down his fork and watched as the kind old butler retrieved his dirty dishes.
"Will you be heading out with Master Bruce this evening?"
Tim got to his feet and placed the cloth napkin that had been on his lap onto the table, though he fidgeted with it a little before finally letting it go. "'Fraid not. B wants me to stay in and 'do my homework'."
Alfred gave him a knowing compassionate look. "I see. Well, if you want to take your dessert upstairs to have while you work on your homework, I'll allow it for tonight. If you need anything else, I'll be in the Cave on comms tonight..
"Thanks Alfred," Tim said with a smile and a quick side-hug. "You're the best!"
Tim made his way upstairs with a small plate of cheesecake topped with strawberries. Once in his bedroom, he closed the door behind him with a sigh.
"Bruce isn't letting you patrol again tonight?"
The teenager glanced over and watched as Kyubey unwound itself from the fluffy white ball it normally curled into while it napped on Tim's pillow. Tim couldn't help the fond smile as his little friend stretched leisurely and indulged in a wide mouthed yawn.
"Nope. He's still got his cape in a twist over Jason's whole empty grave thing." Tim shook his head before making his way to the window seat and making himself comfortable. "I think he just wants to make sure I don't wander off either, but it's still annoying! It's been nearly a month and B still won't let me go on any solo patrols."
"Well, look at the bright side. Now you can get a full night of sleep and wake up early to go Witch hunting before school."
"I suppose."
Tim and his sullen mood weren't alone for long at the window before Kyubey leapt gracefully from the bed to his shoulder. The startled expression on Tim's face lasted only a second before it melted into one of amusement as Kyubey headbutted him affectionately against the cheek. Once they'd managed to wring a chuckle out of the boy, Kyubey hopped down to the window seat where Tim had placed the cheesecake and began sniffing at the selection. Tim watched as his friend picked up the reddest strawberry it could find and popped that into its mouth first, eating it with obvious relish. Then he looked out the window and thought back about the night he became a Magicka Knight, about the moment he set foot back in the cave after defeating his first Witch and claiming his first Grief Seed.
---
"Where have you been?!"
Batman had stormed up to him the moment Robin pulled up on his motorcycle into the Cave. Tim froze the moment he saw his mentor barrelling toward him. "You're back already?"
"The Joker gas was a false alarm," Bruce said as he pushed back his cowl and grabbed Tim by his upper arms, Tim was startled by the frantic way Bruce's eyes were darting over him. "Where were you?! Barbara sent you to investigate a Hatter sighting, then you didn't check in for hours! It's nearly sunrise. Where have you been?!"
Tim swallowed hard. "I... I got lured into a maze trap by Hatter," he admitted quietly. "The place had some weird interference so my comms were scrambled. Hatter got away and it took me forever to find my way out. I'm sorry."
"Are you hurt?"
Tim shook his head. "I'm fine B. Just... tired. It... was a really long night."
After another long moment of Bruce looking over him, the older man finally seemed to relax. He released his hold on Tim's arms and raked his fingers through his cowl-mussed hair. "Please don't go running off like that ever again, Tim. If anything had happened to you--"
"I know," Tim murmured, his eyes focused on the floor even as he wrapped his arms about himself tightly. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Master Bruce?"
Both Bruce and TIm turned to see a shaken Alfred coming toward them with a phone in hand.
"What's wrong?"
"Commissioner Gordon is on the line."
Bruce and Tim shared a confused look. "Why is he calling at this hour?"
Alfred swallowed hard. "He needs 'Bruce Wayne' to come to the precinct as soon as possible. There's been a robbery."
"I don't under--"
"Someone broke into Gotham Cemetery tonight. They stole Master Jason's body."
As Bruce immediately went after Alfred as the old man gave him the phone, Tim stood in the Cave in shock before daring to glance at Kyubey, who had materialized at his heels.
"My wish... It really came true?"
Kyubey curled their tail around Tim's legs in a comforting gesture. "Of course it did. We made a contract."
---
"I wonder where Jason is," Tim mused aloud as he continued to stare out the window. "I thought he would've come straight home. Bruce has looked everywhere. I've looked everywhere..." He looked at Kyubey who had taken a delicate bite of the cheesecake itself. "Do you have any idea where he went after I made my wish?"
Kyubey looked up at Tim, a curious tilt to their head as they stared back at him with their round red eyes. "I was with you in the Labyrinth when the wish was made," they said matter-of-factly.
Tim shrugged. "Yeah. I know... I guess I was just hoping... Well, I hope he's alright, wherever he is."
Quietly, Tim studied the new silver ring encircling the ring finger of his right hand as well as the green alchemical symbol of Mercury that was now on his fingernail. The small emerald gem inlaid within the ring itself shimmered with magic. With a smooth motion, Tim turned his palm up and the ring morphed before his eyes into a brilliant green gem encased in an intricate cage of gold, just like a faberge egg.
His Soul Gem. The source of his power as a Magicka Knight.
For several minutes there was nothing but a comfortable silence as Tim watched the swirling glow of his Soul Gem and Kyubey ate their fill. Once the plate was empty and their paws and muzzle were thoroughly cleaned, Kyubey trotted onto Tim's lap and laid down comfortably. Unconsciously, Tim began to stroke Kyubey's soft whilte fur with his free hand.
"I just hope Jason comes home soon," Tim said as he finally put his Soul Gem away, turning it back into his ring. "That way, he and Bruce can reunite, they can be a family again, and I can step away from being Robin so I can devote myself to being a Magicka Knight instead."
"In the meantime, it's not so bad for you to be both Robin and a Magicka Knight," Kyubey mused. When Tim glanced down at them, they continued. "You have to admit that nearly every night you go out on patrol as Robin, you stumble upon one or two Labyrinths. Even if we can't get to them immediately to flush out the Witch, at least we know where they are for later!"
Tim grinned. "Yeah. I guess there is a silver lining there." Impulsively, he picked up Kyubey and gathered them into a gentle hug. "Thanks for staying with me."
Kyubey nuzzled the underside of Tim's jawline. "Of course I'm staying with you. You're my Magicka Knight. We're in this together." Kyubey flicked their short pointy ears cutely. "Besides, it's not like Bruce or anyone else can separate us. You're the only one here that can see and hear me."
"I'm glad," Tim said. "It's nice to not be alone all the time." He smiled gratefully at Kyubey. "And it makes being grounded by Bruce easier to swallow when I've got you for company."
Then he glanced back out the window at the dark outlines of Gotham City's skyline when the appearance of the Bat-signal lit up the night sky above it. "Still--" he mused. "I really hope Jason shows up soon. I can't wait to meet him."
#au: kcmk#kyubey cursed magicka knights AU#fanfiction#crossover/fusion#pmmm au#dcu au#tim drake#kyubey#batfamily#batfam#batfam fanfic
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You Left My Heart on the Floor
Pairing: Bryce x MC
Warnings: A bit of language. Character Death. I don’t think I put anything that outright mentions the attack, but this is taking place when M/C is quarantined in the room during the aftermath.
A/N #1: Sooooo... This is a follow up to Bar Trouble that is set during the book 2 attack with an unfortunate alternate ending. And it is not a happy one. Also this isn’t heavily edited, so please excuse any mistakes.
A/N #2: Name for this comes from Carly Pearce's Every Little Thing
A/N #3: I didn’t want to forcibly subject anyone to this, so I’m not tagging anyone on this.
Bryce barely took the time required to scrub out of surgery before rushing off through the corridors. He never even really saw any of the staff he passed or heard any of the comments that were floating about as he ran past. The only thing he could focus on was getting to Casey before it was too late. He had to get there before it was too late.
He didn’t even remember flying over the flights of stairs that took him to the cordoned-off floor. Barely registered brushing past all of the various personnel that were trying to keep him from entering. His first cognizant thought after handing Kyra’s surgery over to Tanaka didn’t come until he was standing in front of the window, staring into a room that looked like it had come straight out of some psycho-horror film. The entire room was covered in plastic, an extra cot was set up but had yet to be touched, all while countless figures were milling about just outside of a decontamination chamber in hazmat suits. But, despite all the commotion, the only thing that Bryce saw was her. Her face was paler than he’d ever seen before, a marked contrast to the deep, dark circles under her eyes. Her lips were almost ashen and even from across the room, he could see the way her body was trembling. Her normally bright, green eyes were so dull they were almost completely devoid of color. Yet through it all, he could tell, without even hearing her words, that she was doing everything she could to make sure that Rafael was comfortable. Every single thing about the scene chiseled pieces of his heart away.
Then, suddenly, Casey was looking up directly into his eyes. For the first time in months. And it literally stole his breath away. But there was no relief for either of them. Her expression had quickly morphed into disbelief and Bryce was hit with the full force of everything that had happened between them.
“What are you doing here?” Even through the hostility in her tone, he could hear the weakness of her voice.
“You… I heard you were in trouble.”
“So?”
Bryce stumbled back with the force of the word as if he’s been physically struck. “I needed to see you. To check on you.”
“Shouldn’t you still be in surgery?”
“Inez called Tanaka and he took over for me. Kyra’s in the next best possible hands.”
Casey let out a harsh scoff. “Seriously, Bryce? I’ve asked you for only one goddamn thing in the past six fucking months. To get Kyra through this surgery. And you couldn’t even do that?”
“Casey – “
“Forget it. You’ve seen me. Now you can go. I’m sure your girlfriend is probably worried about you by now. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
Bryce sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d come running, but this sure wasn’t it. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the way her eyes followed him whenever they were in the same room. The glares she’d shoot in his direction when Amber was with him.
He liked Amber well enough, but, as terrible as it sounds, he only kept her around to make Casey jealous. To help distract him until Casey finally figured out what the hell it was that she wanted. Until Casey figured out that she was meant to be with him. But here they were months later and nothing had changed.
Except everything had changed. Because she could very well be dying. And he’d wasted so much time trying to play head games with her. Trying to get back at her for how she’d made him feel when she’d pushed him away.
Now, he realized, as he saw the flash of emotions through her eyes, he had done too good of a job at convincing her that he had moved on. Casey was never going to believe anything that he had to say, anything he desperately needed to say. Not that he could blame her. Why would she believe that he still loved her when he’d done everything possible to make sure she’d seen him all wrapped up with Amber any chance he got?
Dropping his head to stare at his shoes, he muttered, “I, uh… I won’t be far. Just in case you, uh, you need something. Okay?”
“Whatever.”
Without looking up, he turned on his heel and found his way into one of the evacuated rooms down the hall. Settling himself into corner of the room that butted up against the hallway so that he wouldn’t be seen through the crack in the door, he sank down until his face was buried against his knees. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life. The one person who meant anything to him in this entire world was stuck in a room with some mystery substance threatening to take her away for good. He wanted nothing more than to be there for her, supporting her in every way possible, but she didn’t want that from him.
He couldn’t stand to be any further away from her than he currently was, though, so he hid out in the room throughout the night. He gradually inched closer to the door, in order to pick up on the pieces of conversation taking place in the hallway. Knowing that Ramsey and the diagnostics team were on the case had helped to ease some of his fears. That was, until he heard them telling her what had been in the can. Until he heard the words he’d been dreading for hours. “There is no cure.”
His entire world stopped. He couldn’t drag air into his lungs. He couldn’t see the light shining through the door opening. He couldn’t even smell the thick odor of disinfectant that permeated the air.
I’m going to lose her. No. Stop that, Bryce. They are going to figure this out. The brightest medical minds in the world are working on her case. They will fix this.
Still, he couldn’t shake the iron grip of fear around his heart. It took far longer than it should have for him to push himself to his feet. Even longer to actually figure out how to move them towards her room. This time, he was painfully aware of all the gazes falling on him as he trekked towards his destination. He couldn’t miss the pitiful, knowing looks he was receiving.
When he was once again standing in front of her window, he realized that she was now all alone in the room and his heart squeezed even harder. She was wobbling precariously as she seemed to be attempting to pace across the room. It took every ounce of self-control he’d ever possessed to not run into the room and haul her into his arms.
“Casey?”
Her movements were incredibly disjointed as she swiveled around to face him and her face was knotted up in confusion.
“Bryce?”
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“What ar – “ a violent coughing fit overtook her and very nearly brought her to her knees.
“Hey. Why, uh, why don’t you go sit on the bed for a minute, Case?”
“Can’t. Have to keep moving. Can’t solve this if I fall asleep.”
“You don’t have to solve this at all. You’ve got the best team of doctors ever working on this. Your only job is to preserve your strength.”
“Don’t… don’t tell me what to do, Bryce.”
“I’m just – “
“Well don’t. I’ve been doing just – “ Casey blanched, stumbling over to a waste bin next to her cot just before the retching started.
Bryce’s fingers itched to hold her, to pull her hair back out of her way, to hold a cool washcloth to her face. Anything to bring her some semblance of comfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an extra hazmat suit, and a glimmer of hope bloomed within his chest.
“Hey, Case. There’s an extra suit out here. If you want, I can put it on and come keep you company.”
“No.” The strength behind the word was reassuring even as it cut straight to his heart.
“What?”
“You moved on. You have your … girlfriend and I’m sure she wouldn’t be pleased to find out you’d entered a contamination zone for your ex. And I … I don’t want you here. I’m just fine on my own.”
“But – “
“I said no. Now just… go home, Bryce. Just go home.”
Shocked and heartbroken, he stared at her back for several long moments before he finally was able to tear himself away from the window. He retreated back to his hiding place, unable to argue with her wishes but also unable to leave her completely. He needed to be near in case she needed something. In case she needed him.
What could have been an hour later or maybe five, he honestly didn’t know, Bryce was broken out of his contemplative misery by a commotion in the hall. He listened intently for any sort of hope or happiness amongst the chaos, but instead only heard words that had his blood running cold.
“She’s coding!”
He didn’t even remember moving, but suddenly found himself standing outside her window yet again. His face was pressed up to it as tightly as was possible, fingernails scratching at the glass. Please save her. Please don’t let her die. Whether it was a plea or a prayer, he honestly didn’t know, but he kept repeating it in his mind over and over as he watched the team of doctors trying to restore her heart rhythm as time ceased to exist.
Seemingly without warning, everyone stopped and a silence punctuated only by the harsh, flat tone of the heart monitor settled over the room.
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ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛ ɪᴛ | ᴋ. ᴋʏᴏᴛᴀɴɪ x ꜰ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Pairing: Kyotani Kentarou x Female Reader
Request: >Yes No
Tag(s): This is a commission (more like a trade) for my friend Coralia!
Note(s): This is my first time writing for Kyotani but it was a lot of fun!
**This is taken from my Quotev, as this is my writing. Haikyuu characters do not belong to me, however, this writing does. Do not repost without my permission please.
* * * * *
Kyotani is confused as to why his classmate keeps calling him by his first name despite him wanting to be originally addressed by his last name. Ever since they were paired up for a small assignment she’s decided to call him by Kyotani. Without permission too. Suddenly he is Kyotani to his seatmate and now best friend. Even though it is disrespectful he is undeniably intrigued rather than frustrated.
“Want to come over to my house to study, Kyotani?” The girl who he was just thinking about asked, elbows propped on his desk. Her chair is still forwards, her body swung around so her chin rested on the back. With the cutest smile, she asked her usual question. “We have a test soon. Wouldn’t want you to fail!”
He only stared at that while he chewed his lunch, not knowing what he wanted to say to her question. No matter how many times she asks him he still feels like he’s at a loss of words. Using it being lunch as an excuse, he only takes another bite.
“I think that’s a yes?” Y/n chuckles, hoping he’d answer before class began.
“Sure.” The male says as he takes the last bite. Y/n doesn’t fail to notice how he stares at the container, eyes focused on the cartoon chicken.
Giggling, Y/n decides to tease his hesitation to throw it away. “Those mascots are pretty cute! I’d have trouble throwing it away too.” She offers him an innocent smile after her playful comment.
Kyotani ignores what she said and tosses the container in the trash, acting as if he wasn’t just thinking that. “I don’t know what you were talking about.” He tried to lie but Y/n saw right through him.
“Sure~!”
Students started to fill into the classroom from the hallways and restroom, as there was little time before class would resume. Kyotani slumps back into his seat with that information, wanting to be comfortable for the last few hours of school. Y/n swung her body back around to face the board, a smile on her face.
Brown eyes narrow onto Y/n as she writes something down, though Kyotani can’t tell what it is. This doesn’t stop him from staring at the girl in front of him, internally questioning his feelings for his friend. The longer he stares the more he notices about her. The tap of her foot against the chair leg, how her hand brushed against the paper she was writing on, and the thing Kyotani loves most about Y/n: how she smells sweet like strawberries.
“Pssh!” Kyotani heard Y/n whisper. “Class started!” She told him while giving him a note. Folded into neat quarters with a cute dog doodled on it, she gave him a grin.
When the teacher’s eyes glance over to the two Y/n is quickly staring at her book like she’s been working the entire time. Kyotani doesn’t mask how he wasn’t exactly paying attention but the teacher says and does nothing besides squinting and raising their voice a little. When their body turns to face the board, Y/n slides around again, giving the male a thumbs up and a small snicker.
Her focus goes back to the lesson while Kyotani eyes the piece of paper she dropped onto his desk. He slowly peels it open with his book up to hide what he is actually doing.
After not very delicately unfolding the paper he sees in her charmingly messy handwriting, “What time are you coming over?”
Flipping the piece of paper over, Kyotani begins writing. After a minute or so the piece of paper slipped into Y/n’s hand from under her desk. It’s her turn to sneakily read his query on the slip of paper.
“After practice.”
That got Y/n’s attention. In the few weeks she’s been friends he hardly talked about himself. He’s told her about how he loves dogs and chicken but never about after school activities. For the past month or so he’d just sit in his seat eating Kara Age Kun and listening to her rambles about trivial things. With his intense chocolate eyes staring into her own e/c orbs she had to fight the nerves bundling inside of her. But as soon as they came they went away and the two grew comfortable around each other.
Y/n wastes no time in writing another question down. Now that he’s truly opened up she wants to know more about the guy she’s been falling for since first seeing him as a freshman. After writing it down she drops it right by his foot.
Bending forward, Kyotani acts like he’s tying his shoes while getting the piece of notebook paper. He unbends it to reveal, “Ooo~! What club are you in?” He quickly scribbles down a couple of words and hands it back to her discreetly before turning back to his book.
Smiling, Y/n reads the club name again. She hadn’t seen him in any of the games so far this year. Despite that she was growing very interested. So interested that she’d have to watch one of their practices and soon.
“The boys’ volleyball club? Hmm…”
* * * * *
Oikawa couldn’t contain his excitement at seeing a new face outside of the gym doors. With gorgeous h/c hair and shining e/c eyes he also couldn’t deny he wanted her to have shown up to admire him like all the others.
“Oh! Iwa-chan? Who’s the new face?” He asks his friend by his side to be met with a scowl.
“I don’t know.” The male responds while grabbing a volleyball from the bin. The other boys on the team grab a ball and split into pairs for a quick warm up before individual practice. “Get changed!” Iwaizumi yells when Oikawa only stands, looking over the young girl talking to someone outside of the gym.
Oikawa still doesn’t move so Iwaizumi raises the volleyball. “But Iwa-chan! She’s so pretty! I hope she's here for me!”
That’s met with a disappointed head shake from Iwaizumi before he says, “Not every girl is going to be into you.”
“What?!” The captain takes obvious offense from that. “How could they not be interested in me? With my wonderful humour and incredible charms? That’s nigh impossible!” He dramatically says, adding a hand to his forehead for extra drama marks. Iwaizumi isn’t amused by the performance however, only hitting Oikawa with a volleyball.
“Get your ass in the gym so we can practice.”
“Fine Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says in defeat. “I don’t understand why you have to be so mean to me.”
Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi walks ahead of Oikawa. However, the taller of the two is stopped by a hand grabbing his jacket. He stops, turning around to see who had so boldly gripped his jacket. Oikawa and Iwaizumi hardly believe who it is.
The pretty girl Oikawa has been ranting about.
Immediately Oikawa smirks, suspecting that she’s here for him. Iwaizumi lets out a groan and heads into the gym, knowing how this’ll likely end up going.
“I wonder who this beauty is?” Oikawa says with a flirty tone, holding his hand out to her. “Come here to watch us practice?” He’s seen her at their games but she’s not someone who attends practice matches or regular practices. “Or, maybe, see me?” Oikawa’s sly expression disappears when she shakes her head in a silent no.
“I’ve actually come to apply for manager.”
He’s too shocked to properly process what she says. “What?” Is all he manages to get out as Hanamaki snickers at Oikawa’s dazed face.
“She’s not here for you!” Someone shouts from inside the gym as Oikawa stands, shocked. Everyone came to see him. There’s no way this girl could be any different, right?
“Applying for manager to get closer to me?” Oikawa asks, leaning closer. His hand reaches forward to trap the girl against the wall. Y/n stares up at him, an application sheet in her hand. “You don’t even need to apply.” His voice drops as a means to sound more seductive.
It doesn’t work as Y/n’s shoe goes down on his toes, making him crouch down in pain. “Ahh!” Oikawa shouts as she walks away.
“Hi!” Y/n waves to Iwaizumi who is struggling not to laugh at the foolish display he’s made. The other members of the team aren’t holding back. Especially Hanamaki and Matsukawa, the duo cackling at the jokes they’re making about him. What really cracks them up is how she crushes his toes and then casually walks up to Iwaizumi like Oikawa isn’t hopping around in agony.
“I was wondering if I could be a manager?” She asks again, this time with a smile that makes Iwaizumi’s skeptical face soften. “I picked up an application sheet from the office already.” Showing him the sheet, he takes it with his free hand. The other is propping the volleyball against his waist and forearm.
Glancing over the sheet, Iwaizumi saw Y/n is a good student without any behavioral issues. He could see she works at a small bakery by Karasuno and tutors the middle schoolers from her old school. All in all Y/n had an amazing record and what looked like a remarkable work ethic.
The only thing missing from the application is why she wanted to be the boys’ volleyball team manager.
Iwaizumi didn’t want to assume Oikawa was right in assuming she’s here for him but he couldn’t exactly rule it out either. Handing her the sheet back after a thorough look, Iwaizumi thought about how to ask his question without taking any sides. “Why do you want to be our manager?”
“Well,” Y/n began honestly. “I did to get closer to someone.” That had gotten the entire team's attention, especially Oikawa’s.
“I am right! You joined to get closer to m-” Oikawa is cut off abruptly from Y/n continuing to speak.
“He’s really sweet and so cool!” Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she spoke about her crush and beloved friend. “He’s just so passionate about volleyball. He puts so much effort into improving and no one seems to appreciate that. So I’ve been learning more about volleyball for the past week and watching the practices-”
The team exchanged glances before looking back at Oikawa. So far, with the exception of ‘no one seems to appreciate that’ it sounded like their potential manager was enamored by none other than their captain.
“-I want to become your manager to get closer to him. I really like him and want to support him.” Y/n admits truthfully and without an ounce of doubt. After all, why be ashamed of liking someone?
Amidst the team’s doubts the gym doors open, the usually late wing spiker walking in. It’s easy to see how Y/n’s eyes lit up at his entry and how her arms outstretched and engulfed his body into an affectionate hug.
It was also clear that he’d heard all of that by how red his face is. Without words he wrapped his arms around his friend, holding her tightly. Even when she retracted he didn’t. His long arm only rested against her shoulder as she grinned happily at the male towering over her.
“I want to be your manager so I can directly support my favorite player and crush: Kentarou!”
His blush only got worse at you saying his last name with such affection. Not wanting to admit to it, but he had also developed feelings for his eccentric best friend. Despite his constant denial he knew that his feelings weren’t platonic. Even now with his crush in his arms with the brightest, most adorable doopy girn he’s ever seen he won’t admit he’s in love.
Still, he couldn’t help but love this new attention as she practically climbed his body to deliver the softest, briefest of kisses onto his nose. Looking down at her in both shock and admiration, he felt his heart throb with this new and very welcomed feeling filling him.
Maybe just this once, he can admit he’s in love with his best friend.
* * * * *
Oikawa felt sore all over. From the throbbing in his toes and face to his heart beating in his throat. No way did that just happen, right?
“No!” The male exclaimed as his teammates watched Y/n pull Kyotani down by his shirt collar for a real kiss. Everyone else on the team whistled and laughed, teasing their second year wing spiker on liking a girl so giddy. “You don’t really like Mad Dog-chan? Do you? No way!” Oikawa approached the newly formed couple with a pained expression, not really wanting to believe in this.
His collar is grabbed before he can harass the two as Iwaizumi pulls him back. “Leave them alone Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said with a scowl directed at Oikawa. “Can’t you see they’re happy together?”
Oikawa looks back to see Y/n comparing her hand size to Kyotani’s, and as expected his hands are larger. Suddenly she laces her fingers with his, watching with a smile as his hand engulfs hers. His face immediately turns red as he tries and hide it but Y/n only giggles and starts swinging their intertwined fingers happily.
Smacking his captain, Iwaizumi says, “Now stop trying to get every pretty girl you see.” The male walks back to resume practice with a smile towards Kyotani, proud that he’s found someone sweet for him.
Standing there still, Oikawa watches as Y/n rambles about all the new things she’s learned about volleyball. He couldn’t help himself from watching in jealousy, never expecting to be jealous of his underclassman. Even with the ping of sadness in his chest from being rejected for the first time in a long while, he bends down to grab a volleyball. Closing his eyes, Oikawa holds the ball close to his body as he thinks for a moment. It wasn’t that he even liked the girl who had just walked into the gym. He’s confused as to why she doesn’t like him at all. With a hurting ego, Oikawa opens his eyes to look at his teammate proudly.
Even if he could have practically any girl in the world, he’s happy that Y/n loves Kyotani instead of him. Though his ego certainly doesn’t agree.
#kyotani kentarou#kyotani x reader#kyotani x female reader#kyotani kentarou x female reader#mad dog#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x female reader#x female reader#kyotani deserves more love tbh#a request
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The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Eight, “Almost There”
Clickable Links:
- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys
- Inspo tag
- Playlist
- *NEW* Hecky Blurb from The Sex Bucketlist Fic Challenge (currently an extra chapter)
- Becky Character Survey #2
- Harry Character Survey
Word Count: 7.4k words
Warnings: None
SNEAKKKKKKKK PEEEEEK
“At moments throughout the day, I could’ve cared less that I was being paid for all of this, because being in Harry’s presence for almost every second was rewarding enough. I got to remember the dark little freckles smattered across his face, the tan ones peppering his nose you can see if you’re close enough, and how utterly happy I feel being around him. He quickly felt like the sun and I was the orbiting planet, constantly around him and hanging onto his every word.”
Music Inspo: Sweet Tooth by Cavetown (click to listen)
P.S. - Talk about the most perfect gif up top of happy lawyer Harry c:
“I have a million things to talk to you about. A million things we have to talk about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.” - Haruki Murakami
“So, Hare, ya think she’ll like it?”
“I bloody hope so afta all tha cleanin’ and buyin’ new stuff,” I respond with a tired sigh, crossing my arms over my chest, sure there’s still dust clinging to me in places.
“We didn’t do any cleaning, you goon, the cleaning company we employ did,” Myles chuckles, bringing warmth to my cheeks. “I think we did good, though- I reckon you did good, seeing as you did most of the work, mate.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, taking a good look at the office that’s sat unused since the remodel.
“When’s her orientation with you, did you say?”
“This Friday,” I answer him, my hand wandering to my mouth where I bite at my fingernail, inspecting the clean office. Even after all of the work that’s been put into it ever since she was hired, I still doubt myself if Becks will like it. Will she like the desk that I chose, or the Merlot colored sofa against the wall, or the chair that I splurged on? She’s going to be the one spending time in here, not me, and I really want her to like it.
“Have you asked her out on that date yet?” Myles questions, stepping forward to adjust the black modern desk lamp, even though I’m sure she’ll move things around once she steps foot in here. I want her to change it to how she likes, just how she likes. Wait, what did he say?
“My’, what tha fook are ya goin’ on ‘bout?” I chuckle, holding out my hand in question to help me talk.
“What, mate? You’re wasting precious time here, you’ll be thirty in a few weeks. I thought we’d have kids and they’d be best mates by now.”
“Oh, shuddup, thirty isn’t that old, and no, I haven’t asked her out yet.”
“And why’s that? You said you ran into her at the supermarket last weekend, and you met her for dinner and drinks the Friday before. It sounds like you had plenty of opportunities, and once again, you didn’t take them,” he almost groans, opening a box of black pens that he pours into a tall black mug with ‘Styles & Lawson’ written on both the mug and the pens. It was his touch, not mine. I know Becks will hate it, she’ll find it gaudy. “Y’know I don’t care if you lot date, just keep it behind closed doors, is all I ask. Keep it professional.”
“‘s too soon, My. I know ‘s already a lot fer her t’ be startin’ a new job, ‘specially her first official lawyer job. I want her t’ get settled in first befo’ I do anythin’, and overwhelm her mo’. And I know, I wanna do all o’ it right.”
“That’s fair, Hare, but you better hurry up. I was telling Rory about her starting, and when he asked to see a photo, he couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she is,” he comments, breaking the box apart before tossing it in the empty bin, giggling.
“My’, don’t bloody encourage him. Rore’s a prick, tho’, even he knows it. She’d neva go fer him, anyways.”
“Are you gonna tell him how you feel about her then, y’know, so he doesn’t try anything?” Myles continues, walking behind Becks’ ‘Autumn Cherry Mahogany’ desk, pushing in the chair as he does a once over.
“I reckon I should, if tha idiot keeps quiet ‘bout it, which’d be a bloody wonder in itself. Watch him try t’ gimme relationship advice, as if he’s had a girlfriend lately fer longa than two weeks.”
Myles chuckles at that, tapping a pen against the desk barren besides the lamp, pens, a desk calendar, and the phone. I laugh along with him, turning around to glance at the wooden shelves that look rather pathetic with the few law books claiming them, but that’s the last thing on my to do list. I reckon she’ll want to add some of her own, anyways.
“You’re really going to leave the walls empty besides that bloody shelf and clock? It looks sad in here.”
“I told ya ‘m gonna let her pick out some prints, and tha firm will pay fer ‘em. There’s no use in buyin’ sumthin’ that she’ll end up not likin’, My. Oh, and tha rug ‘s s’posed t’ come in t’morrow, as is tha new iMac that one o’ Asher’s blokes will set up,” I repeat with a roll of my eyes, forgetting the books and finding him straightening the violet-colored clock on the wall.
“The firm is paying for it, is that right? Jeepers, Harry, she’s making you all soft again. I can’t complain though, because it means you’re far nicer to me for a change.”
“Shuddup,” I giggle, plucking a new pen from her desk to launch at him. “Ya I dunno, she has tho’ and I don’t really mind it. I guess ‘m used t’ it, but it was hard in tha beginnin’.”
“It’s a good thing, really, I mean it. Oh, by the way, did you let her know she needs to frame her degree to hang up in here? Preferably behind her desk,” he questions, turning to point to the eggshell-colored walls that were painted months ago, the exact shade of all of our offices.
“Thanks fer tha reminda. ‘ll hafta text her ‘bout it, I forgot.”
“Yeah, you can thank me for a good excuse to text her,” he grins, his hands falling from the clock until his attention is captured by something else. “Also, why’d you buy a bloody plant? Does she even like them, or know how to take care of them?”
“I dunno, she mentioned once she likes succulents, and there’s a huge ass window right there t’ give it sun, so ya jus’ need t’ water it,” I snicker, pointing to the floor to ceiling window taking up the wall across from her door, like all of the offices. “‘s some kinda succulent, I can’t rememba. I figured she’d like it, but thanks fer yer bloody vote o’ confidence, Mr. Lawson.”
“You’ll get my ‘bloody vote of confidence’ when you fucking finally ask her out, Hare. ‘s been two years, mate,” he insists, flicking the light off as I step out into the hallway.
“I know, My, ya think I don’t bloody know that?”
“I don’t know, Harry, but y’know how I feel about second chances. They don’t come around again, and you got one, so use it wisely and quickly,” he tells me, wagging a finger at me as he closes the door before walking off.
“I know, but I don’t wanna screw it up,” I whisper in defeat to none other than myself, messing with the silver rose ring on my left hand, just as my eyes pan over to the frosted glass door. At the sight of her full name etched into the door, my heart does a jump, from nerves and excitement. “See ya soon, Becks,” I finish softly, patting her name carved into the glass, a bubbly warmth filling my insides with anticipation.
I dunno how much longer I can wait for her.
+
“Alrighty, then let’s start with’a tour. Follow me right this way, Ms. Holte,” Harry says, leading me out of his office and can I say, giving me a perfect view of his gorgeous bum. Now, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed a bit, I decide silently as I take a quick glance around his office.
“Please stop with the Ms. Holte thing, it’s weird,” I giggle, watching him close his door behind him, and he winks at me.
“What, how come? Yer a lawyer now, Becks, ya gotta be all formal.”
“See, that name sounds much better, doesn’t it?” I tease him, and he shakes his head with a grin.
“I admit it does, but y’know yer gonna hafta decide what ya want people t’ call you. Rebecca, Becky, Ms. Holte, etcetera. But fer formal proceedings, like during cases you’ll be Ms. Holte, so ya betta get used t’ it.”
“Yeah, Ms. Holte isn’t happening if I can help it, it makes me feel old. I’m not a bloody teacher or something,” I remark and he nods his head, his fingers getting lost in his curls as he stops.
“Very true. Well t’ begin our tour, yer familiar with this hallway as it’s tha main one. My office is behind us at tha very end, Myles is down and on tha right as y’know, then Rose’s ‘s on tha left,” he explains by pointing a long finger in different directions, the pink nail polish from last weekend almost entirely gone. I guess Harper needs to give him a touch up, or I could. God, I wish. “Rory’s office ‘s down that way t’ tha right o’ mine, as ‘s Jennings as y’know. Mick’s ‘s down tha way afta his, then Gwen’s, Tate’s, Holly’s, Connor’s- Y’know what, let’s jus’ go and say hi t’ ‘em, I reckon that’ll be easier fer you t’ make sense o’ it all. I was plannin’ t’ introduce ya t’ e’rybody anyways, so we’ll see who’s here t’day and not stuck inn’a case.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I hum, unsure of how good of a job I’m doing masking my anxiousness, it’s hard to tell.
Evidently, I’m not doing that great of a job, because when Harry looks to his left at me, it’s fair game. “‘s okay, Becks, don’t worry. They’ll all love you too,” he smiles, patting my arm, calming me down and exciting me at the same time with his words and touch.
“God, I’m an open book, aren’t I?”
“Eh, I dunno really. I guess ‘m jus’ good at readin’ ya by now,” he responds with a short wink before stopping in front of another frosted glass door. After a short knock, the door opens and like every other time, I’m amazed by her fiery red hair. “Hey, Rose, ‘m not interruptin’, am I?”
“No, Harry, you’re not,” Rose answers, hanging onto her door, and I watch her eyes pan over to me. “Hi, Becky! I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you, love?”
“I’m good, thanks. How have you been, Rose?”
“Eh, I’ve been better, it’s not easy working for this guy. You should get out while you still can,” she answers teasingly, nodding her head over to Harry.
“Hey, don’t say that! ‘m givin’ her tha tour right now, ya don’t wanna scare her away already, Rose!” he scoffs jokingly, and quickly we’ve left him behind with our laughing that he doesn’t partake in.
“Quiet down, Harry, she’s come back for seconds so she must know how to deal with you by now,” she quips, looking over to me with a blushing smile. Oh, I’m liking it better and better the longer I’m here.
“God, I hope so,” I joke, spending a nervous laugh at the end of my words and so does everybody else, although in a self-deprecating way.
“I’m glad you’re back though, Becky. It’s so great to have you a part of the lawyer team now.”
“Thank you, Rose. I’m really happy to be a part of it too,” I answer shyly, and when I look over to Harry he’s wearing that sunshine smile again that I’d gladly look into, even if it blinded me.
“Thanks fer yer time, Rose, we’ll be movin’ along t’ meet e’rybody else now. There’ll be a formal meetin’ her first day t’ properly introduce e’rybody tho’,” Harry says, patting her on the shoulder before we move on.
We make our way down the hallway, and then soon reunite with Jennings, which wasn’t the best reunion per say after how he treated me at times.
“Don’t worry, I told him he has t’ be on his best behavior ‘round you,” Harry comments with a warm smile, doing a good job at smoothing over any bumps I feel in the road, like he so often does.
A few of the lawyers were gone for the day, including Gwen and Mickey who I’ve yet to hear anything about or meet. I got to meet Holly, Connor, Tate, and Brien who were all very kind. It was nerve wracking, but they were easy to talk to, and it was neat to see their difference in ages, their characters, and their offices. As for those we missed, Harry said I’d meet them the next time when I have my first official day.
“And this ‘s Rory, which requires a bit o’ prep fer meetin’ him, he can be a lot t’ handle sumtimes,” Harry prefaces, stopping in front of the ajar door, but his face falls when he peeks in, saying it’s empty. “‘m not bloody surprised, I can neva find tha idiot when I need him.”
“Looking for me, Harold?” a voice calls, pulling our attention down the hall and towards the lobby. I can almost see where my desk used to be from here, almost.
“Oh, so he can call you Harold, but I can’t?”
“No, neitha can he, he jus’ thinks he’s funny. He’s prolly tryna show off fer you,” he comments, cocking his head to the side as he looks at this Rory fellow questioningly. “Y’know I don’t like bein’ called that, Rore.”
“And what do I care?” Rory replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he approaches us, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Ooooo, who is this lovely lass?”
“Rory, this ‘s Ms.- I mean, Becky Holte, ‘ve told you ‘bout our new associate,” Harry explains, pointing his elbow to me as his hands sit in his pockets. Slowly with each new introduction, I’ve noticed Harry resume his professionalism, but it feels stronger whenever he says my name. It’s a little hard to get used to after all of the moments we’ve shared over the last two years, but I know that I’ll have to get used to working with him again, and all that it entails.
“Ah, so this is Becky,” Rory smiles, stepping forward to put out his hand as his eyes flit to Harry. With a confused look on my face, I take it and he shakes my hand with his other covering mine. My eyes race to Harry next with a question, but his are stuck to Rory’s with an annoyed expression. “I’ve heard loads about you, love. Welcome to the firm, we’re all happy to have you here working with us. I know Harry is especially.”
“Um, thank you, Rory. I’m excited to be here.”
He nods before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his gray slacks and sauntering off, loud music soon coming from his office.
“He’s uh, different,” I comment slowly, looking over my shoulder as we walk away.
“Ya, he’s a prat ‘s what he ‘s,” Harry comments quickly, rubbing a knuckle along his hairy chin.
“So, you told your colleagues that you’re happy I’m back?”
“Perhaps,” he shrugs, saying it like he’s not sure of his answer either, but I take it and I run with it. “Perhaps very much so,” he finishes just as his steps cease in front of another closed door. I don’t get the chance to read the name on it, because quickly he’s opening it, and it’s already hard to tear my eyes away from him after he said that. Who do you think you are just saying that kind of stuff and not expecting me to freak out? It gets even worse when he finally meets my eyes with the cheekiest grin sitting there, waiting for me.
“Wow, this is a really nice office. It even smells good, like palo santo or something,” I comment, taking a step into the immaculate looking space. The room is lit up when Harry flips the light switch, bathing the shining desk in light, as well as the wine-colored sofa against the wall to my right. “Look at that view! Dang, whoever’s office this is sure is lucky. They even have a cute little plant on their desk, awe. Whose office is this, anyways? I don’t want to intrude, or anything,” I say, fawning over the cozy room and even how there’s two little tasseled pillows sitting on the sofa. When I bring my eyes back to Harry, he’s leaning against the door frame, arms and legs crossed amongst his tall body. In his eyes sits a tale that I can see he’s itching to tell, a sparkle in his eye.
“Consider yerself lucky, Becks, this ‘s yer new office,” he grins, his cheeks disappearing when the smile almost reaches his ears.
“Shut up!” I exclaim, my hands flying to my mouth as I look at the room in a new light, per say. “I get my own office? I didn’t even think I’d need one, since I’ll always be in yours. Harry, you shouldn’t have!” I sigh happily, hands falling as my eyes start to water.
“‘Course you’ll have yer own office, Becks. I mean ya, you’ll be with me in mine loads, but sumtimes we’re bound t’ get sick o’ each otha,” he says, lifting his crossed arms in a shrug as if they hold words as well. My head falls to the side as I look at him, telling him silently he’s stupid for saying that, and he giggles because he’s just too good at reading me. It’s going to be a long time before I get sick of him again. A very long time. “It’ll happen, I promise ya that. But sumtimes ‘ll be in partner meetings or sumthin’, and ya can do yer research and prep fer tha cases in here. Also, I wanted ya t’ have yer own space since ‘s no fun bein’ stuck in me office starin’ at tha same four walls all day long. And I know ya didn’t really have yer own space befo’ at yer old desk, and ya should’ve,” he completes eloquently, always knowing what to say and how to say it. I hope he can teach me how to do that, because I’m really going to need it. For more than one occasion, and both inside and outside of this firm.
I want to hug him so badly I can’t stand it, because the gratitude and happiness bubbling to the surface yell at me to, and he just looks so cute standing over there so proud of himself. The whole rule about being professional that stuck to me again the second I got off the lift comes back to me, and holds me back from surprising him with a bear hug. Boy, is it hard, and it gets even harder when I don’t see him trying to give me one, either.
“You’re so sweet, you know that?” I almost blurt out, wishing for that eloquent speech trait once again.
“Thanks, bug, I try. ‘m really glad ya like it, really. I have a few sites ya can look at when ya have tha time t’ pick out some prints fer yer walls. Oh, and yer welcome t’ bring in any books ya’d like t’ place on yer shelf and anythin’ else fer that matta, ‘s all yers. All of it,” and with the sunshine smile leaking through in those words, the first tear falls onto my cheek and I couldn’t even care. “Hey, don’t cry, bug. C’mere, come gimme a hug.”
“But I have to be professional, and employees don’t hug their boss.”
“Hush, li’l one. ‘m not yer boss anymo’, ‘m yer colleague,” he contends shrugging, removing an arm from where it’s crossed over his chest to wave me over to him.
“A mentee shouldn’t hug their mentor,” I continue, the next tear falling as indecisiveness buzzes inside of me.
“Rebecca Ann Holte,” Harry insists firmly, and this one triumphs all others. It hurts more than any other, brings back the most memories, and makes the happy tears come even faster. And shit, does it get me going. “Come ova here and hug me, now,” he giggles with a finger pointing to the floor, and I swear it’s the best song I’ve ever heard in this whole entire world, next to the very words he just spoke.
But I can’t get my feet to wake up and in a blink he’s moving over to me with that sunshine smeared all over his face. I feel it cover my body when his long arms come around me, pulling my face against his chest.
“I don’t like my full name,” I confess into his button down, hoping I’m not smearing my blubbering makeup all over it.
“I do, ‘s pretty . . but I like ‘Becks’ betta. Yer my Becks,” he hums from above me, running miles up and down my back with his large hands. His hugs that can fix everything and anything.
“I’m sorry I always cry.”
“‘s okay, bug, ya don’t gotta apologize. I know it means yer really happy,” he muses, eliciting a quick nod from me that sings a happy giggle from above. “‘m so happy ya like it, I worked so hard onnit coz I wanted ya t’ love it.”
“You did all of this?!”
“Well, with a li’l help from me friends, ‘course,” he titters, the sound heard under my ears and overhead. His name leaves my lips in an amazed sigh and he only laughs harder. “Think that means ya like it, hmm, Becks?”
“Yes, I love it, Harry. All of this,” I answer, finding handfuls of his silky blazer in my hands, and his peppery vanilla scent. Too afraid of ruining his shirt, I back up and let go of him, wiping under my eyes embarrassingly.
“Alright?” he hums softly, brushing the hair away from my face and behind my ear. Even just his finger brushing my ear gets me going. Good God, Harry. “Here, lemme look.”
I oblige after doing most of the work and meeting his eyes that I swear I could melt looking into, and I should know because I have so many times. The happiness pours into me at the thought of getting to do it day after day, for as long as I like. Kind of.
“Doesn’t look too bad. Ya still look like me pretty Becks, but don’t wantcha cryin’, haven’t even been here an hour, love.”
“Oh, you knew I was going to cry when I saw the office,” I laugh and his quickly falls behind, tickling my ears.
“Ya, I admit I knew,” he titters and I playfully push at his chest, suddenly kicking myself for ending that hug so soon, unsure of the next time I’ll get one. “Well, shall we keep goin’ with this tour, or ya need anotha minute, bug?”
“I’m okay,” I answer and he nods.
“If ya say so, Boops,” he chirps, brushing the tip of his finger against my nose cheekily. “C’mon, ya have plenty o’ time t’ check this place out. I wanna show ya tha new law library, ‘s a real treat.” I follow his lead, even with tear streaks down my cheeks, because I know that if I’m by his side I’ll always be okay.
Well, so much for that whole ‘being a professional thing’, huh, Mr. Styles? He sure threw that out the door just now, as well as a few more doubts I had about the way he feels about me. Goodness gracious, I’m in real trouble.
I can’t wait.
At moments throughout the day, I could’ve cared less that I was being paid for all of this, because being in Harry’s presence for almost every second was rewarding enough. I got to remember the dark little freckles smattered across his face, the tan ones peppering his nose you can see if you’re close enough, and how utterly happy I feel being around him. He quickly felt like the sun and I was the orbiting planet, constantly around him and hanging onto his every word. Luckily, I was able to do a lot of staring, since I’m familiar with the firm and could tune out at times. He still gave me the grand tour which was a little different at times due to the remodel. I realized there was a post room that I had totally forgotten about, although I’m not sure how.
Harry made it fun, like he always does, but I noticed that he was ‘Boss Harry’ today. At times, he kept the personal talk to a minimum when there was stuff to get done, especially after the scene that unfolded in my office. God, I can’t believe any of what happened in there, and I try not to think about it, because I know I won’t be able to handle it. I called him ‘Mr. Styles’ on a few occasions and I think he liked the sound of it too. Fortunately, for my sake, he only remembered my last name aloud a few more times, because I think we’re both uncomfortable with anything besides ‘Becks.’ But I wouldn’t want it any other way, and I quickly realized that, when that’s how he introduced me to his- well my new colleagues before correcting himself. He really is just the cutest.
“I didn’t dump too much on ya t’day, did I?” Harry asks with a sunny smile, falling down onto the sofa across from me.
“It’s debatable,” I shrug softly with an added laugh, my hand diving into the cloth bag sat between us.
“Hey, I did me best,” he pouts, pulling up his pastel slacks to get comfy, crossing his legs in front of me. Goodness, I really wish he wouldn’t, because it is the best and worst view I’ve ever seen. He looks too damn fine in those pants that hug him in all of the right places, fuck. Fuck me.
I’m sure you want him to, Becky.
Go away, demon, I’ve got this handled.
Pfffft, yeah right.
“I hope ya didn’t cheat while I was in tha loo,” he remarks, pulling his lips inwards to make a popping sound with his mouth, just like that part in Shrek 2 where Donkey does it in the carriage.
“I would not! I can’t believe you don’t trust me.”
“Oh, I trust ya, Becks, jus’ not when it comes t’ Scrabble,” he quips, dropping several tiles onto the thick cardstock board. I hold back a comeback comment as I watch him build off my word, forming one of his one.
H O T D O G
A devilish laugh leaves his cherry lips as I pluck my pre-chosen tiles from my rack. Meanwhile, he adds up his new points aloud and tallies them up.
“What kinda prints are ya gonna buy fer yer office, y’think?” he mumbles, the pen scratching against the yellow legal pad in his lap, doing one good thing, which is covering it from my prying gaze.
“I’m not sure yet, do you have any good suggestions?” I reply, turning over a D that had gotten flipped over, lining up my tiles from his G.
G O O D B Y E
“Nice long one, bug, and I dunno. ‘ve accumulated mine ova tha years, and they’re mostly prints o’ artists I love.”
“Yeah, I see that,” I respond, lifting my eyes to his spacious office that still surprises me with how different it does and doesn’t look from before.
As he said, more framed prints cover his walls. Before, he only had a Rolling Stones black and white picture above the sofa we sit on. Now, he has one of The Beatles from their Sgt Pepper launch party, a print of Mick Fleetwood and Stevie Nicks on the cover of Rumors, a smiling portrait of Cat Stevens playing guitar, and a moody photo of Simon and Garfunkel. The shelf above us is also brimming with new books, including biographies of previously mentioned musicians, and even Uncle-ing for Dummies.
“I like them. Maybe I’ll frame some favorite sheet music of mine, I have no idea,” I joke with uncertainty, finding his smiling eyes across from me, lifting from the pad of paper.
“There’s no rush, Becks, ya got loads o’ time t’ decorate. I jus’ wantcha t’ be at home in yer new office. I mean, ‘m still decoratin’ and ‘s been ova five years,” he comments, setting the pad to the side. “Don’t forget t’ pull new tiles, love.”
“Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder. It’s just weird, but in a good way, because I’ve never had my own office,” I say, reaching my hand into the bag and feeling the cool tiles once again.
“‘Course it’d be weird, ‘s sumthin’ new, but you’ll get used t’ it. ‘m sure you’ll figure out how t’ make it yer own, ya deserve it,” he exhales, his hands folded together against his mouth as he stares at the board intently.
“Thank you, you’re right . . The tiles aren’t going to arrange themselves if you stare that hard. You do know that, right?”
“Yes, Ms. Holte, ‘m well aware, thank you. Bloody hell, already feelin’ like we’re a hotshot coz we’re a lawyer now, are we?” he tuts teasingly, dropping his hands to his rack as he flits his eyes to me with a toothy grin.
“I am not, and watch the name, or no brownies for you!”
“Fine,” he sighs, his bottom lip catching between his teeth as he contemplates his move, but his focus is lost when his phone dings.
I try not to intrude, but the look on his face feeds my curiosity, and when his expression does a three-sixty and then another, I can’t look away. He doesn’t share anything though, just types back a brief reply to whoever and returns his attention to the game board. I try to do the same, planning my next attack on the board, but it’s futile because the worry I feel for him creeps up again like it so often does.
“Got any big plans fer t’night?” he muses aloud, laying down the ceramic tiles he’s chosen to form a short word off of my E.
B A K E
“Nah, just finally finishing New Girl after procrastinating it for the last few years. It’s always sad when a show ends.”
“Ah, guess yer busy then, nevamind,” Harry comments, adding up my points aloud before jotting them down. Wait, sir, you can’t just tease that at me. Well, whatever that is.
“Mr. Styles, what ever do you mean?” I ask calmly, placing heavy emphasis on his formal name, one that started as a joke but now I’m liking it more than I’d care to admit.
He doesn’t say anything right away, because of course. He just busies himself by picking out new letters and organizing his rack of tiles. I forgot about my new word long ago, because if I’m honest at least to myself, as soon as the short-hand had reached the three on the clock, I was already feeling melancholy. Now, no fewer than fifteen minutes of my orientation day remains, and the aching in my chest has only kept reminding me that I have to leave him soon. Talk about distracting.
“I mean t’ say, my sista had t’ cancel dinna coz Harper’s sick. So, how d’ya feel about dinna and drinks round two?” he suggests, finally meeting my eyes with his that have a little bit more sparkle to them.
“I’d love to, Harry. Maybe I could get that motorcycle ride already,” I comment, flitting my eyes over to the metallic gold helmet sitting on the edge of his organized desk.
“Maybe ya could, Becks,” he chirps after seeing where I’m looking. That sticky smile winds its way up his face, and finds the hole in the armor around my heart.
Am I in trouble with this man, or what? Fuck yes I am, and I can’t wait to dive right in.
The January day could be warmer, but it could also be colder, and yet with Harry by my side I don’t even notice. We both ditch our bags in my car for the time being, and suddenly I question a few things, mostly the intelligence of this idea seeing as what I’m wearing.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I say, voicing my concerns aloud and I regret it immediately when Harry looks over to me quickly, the disappointment building on his face.
“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t hafta, love.”
“No, I’m talking about the motorcycle ride. I want to, but I’m wearing heels,” I shrug giggling and he nods softly, biting his lip as a thought buds in his eyes. “Oh wait, I think I have trainers in my car somewhere from that one yoga class I went to years ago.”
I hear his delightful laugh in the corners of my mind as I pop open the boot of my car, grateful to my past self for cleaning it once, whenever the last time that was.
“Y’know, ‘m I eva gonna be able t’ get ya t’ go t’ a yoga class with me one o’ these days?”
“Most likely not, if you want my honest answer,” I tell him and he chuckles, but I hear the sadness in it. It goes both ways, being able to read each other like an open book. We may not open ourselves to other people that way, but I think we had let the other person in long before we can remember.
“Here they are!” I exclaim once I locate the old black shoes, soon taking a seat on the edge of my silver car. Harry chirps a ‘good’ as he unbuckles the black leather box on the far back of the motorcycle seat, pulling out a matte black helmet.
I’m reminded of the bitter cold through the thin fabric of my black dress pants that I tuck into my long socks, although it looks dorky.
“Nice socks,” he jokes, lips sputtering with a laugh as I approach him.
“Shush,” I retort playfully, fastening the last few buttons of my long violet peacoat.
“Lookin’ good, Becks.”
“Oh, I know, very motorcycle chic,” I agree jokingly, taking the helmet from him that he holds out to me.
I slide it over my wavy dark curls, and lift my chin to the ceiling of the parking ramp to try and fasten the clasp. After several seconds of trying, I still can’t get it. I grow anxious when I hear the thrum of the engine come to life.
“Okay, I’ve ridden with Robbie on his bike so many times, and I can still never get these stupid helmets buckled. Can you help me, please?” I ask, my hands falling with a sigh to find him zipping up his bulky North Face, a gray hood from his sweatshirt falling over his back.
“‘Course, love,” he snickers, and I know he’s just enjoying watching me struggle. “Didn’t know ya were familiar with bikes, kinda disappointed ‘m not givin’ ya yer first ride.”
“If it’s any consolation it’s my first ride in years, and anything will be better than riding with Robbie. He’s scary on that thing.”
“Don’t worry, ‘m a good driver with anythin’ that’s not a shopping cart. Here, lemme help,” he says softly, his brown leather Chelsea boots echoing on the cement ground as he nears me. The closer he gets, the more my heart starts to race in anticipation for the next moment, and it feels like it stops altogether when I feel the guitar calloused pads of his fingers on my chin. “Lift yer head, please.”
“Yeah, I guess you were a good driver the few times I’ve ridden with you in your Rover.”
“‘Course I was, and ‘m jus’ gonna ignore how yer bein’ a sarcastic li’l ass ‘bout it,” he quips, pulling a laugh from my lips. No longer can I stare at the ceiling or the top of the helmet, and so I finally look to him through the partition although nervously. “Here, I think I almost got it,” he announces, a tune soon flowing from his lips that he hums. Again, it’s that same song that I can never figure out and it’s driving me nuts, but just hearing him hum it makes my heart slow down and relax. I don’t even know why, I guess because I’ve heard it so many times now, and he can relax me without hardly trying. When it comes to touching him, it seems to excite me in a nervous way right from the get go.
Somehow, I had forgotten how dark and long his eyelashes are as they flutter against his skin while he focuses on fastening the strap under my chin. His tongue dots across his lips at times until his bottom lip becomes trapped between his teeth, his thick brows falling in concentration. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen anything cuter, but then the brisk wind catches his curls, again I’m uncertain.
“Don’t focus too hard now,” I tease him as the strap tightens under my chin. His features relax with a grin that doesn’t return a comment.
“There ya go, love,” he says, his warm vanilla touch falling away from me and he smiles as he pats the top of my helmet. “Oh here, almost forgot these.”
“What?” I answer, following him over to the bike as I lock my car, shoving my keys into the pocket of my coat. With his back to me, he plucks something from the leather bag of sorts and turns around, placing a pair of suede black gloves in my hands.
“Sorry, they’re prolly a bit large on ya, but ‘s betta than nuthin’,” he explains, and I only answer with a nod, watching him pull on a similar pair. “Ya still wanna do this?”
“By all means,” I agree aloud enthusiastically, stopping at the side of the gleaming black Harley. For some reason, it impresses me even more how the bike reminds me of how good he takes care of his things.
Now, I know I’m really falling.
“Hop on behind me then,” Harry instructs, swinging a long leg over the Harley to take a seat. My, was that a sight. I do as he says and settle onto the cushiony seat behind him, trying to ignore the bitter cold seeping in through my pants, but I’m sure he’s dealing with the same thing. “Ya warm enough, love?” he asks, raising his voice so I can hear him over the engine.
“Yeah, besides my bum, but what can you do?”
He chuckles with an agreeing nod, “Can ya find tha little footpegs with yer feet? Yer feet need t’ go on there and stay there, don’t wan’ ‘em touchin’ any otha parts o’ tha bike that’re hot.”
“Yeah, let me see,” I mumble, looking down and soon finding the little silver footrests. “Found them.”
“Good, now how does gnocchi soup ova on ninth sound?”
“Sounds great. I can’t remember the last time I was there,” I answer with a smile, wishing he could see it, and that I could see his. But I find that I can’t complain when I feel him grab my hands in each one of his, pulling them forward and around his middle to rest on his stomach.
“Neither can I, now that I think o’ it.”
“How come?” I wonder aloud.
“Dunno, jus’ wasn’t tha same without ya there, Becks . . . Gotta hold onto me, ‘kay? ‘s notta very long ride, but that way we won’t get too cold goin’ jus’ ova there. Ya can fold her hands togetha too, if ya like,” Harry instructs, and I’m uncertain how many of his words I just heard after the very thing he just did. Shit, can’t I get a warning when you’re going to touch me? I need to prepare myself for something like that.
“O-Okay.”
“Alright?” he asks softly, projecting his voice over the loud rumble of the engine.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” I answer, my eyes dipping to the space in between us on the seat that I can’t get myself to close, no matter how much I’d like to.
“‘Kay, we’re gonna leave inna sec then. But if ya need anythin’ just, I dunno, pat my chest or sumthin’ since it’ll be loud. I won’t go very fast tho’. Hopefully I don’t have t’ do too much t’ be a betta driver than Robbie.”
“No, you definitely don’t,” I comment and we both laugh before I hear the click of the kickstand lifting, and then the weight of the bike resting on its two wheels.
“Ready, bug?” he asks, sitting forward a little to settle his hands on the handlebars.
“Yeah!” I call out to him, grabbing onto the front of his coat and feeling him under my touch, but the shyness keeps me from feeling more of him. It always manages to keep me from getting closer to him, all throughout the last few years.
He nods in front of me and within seconds he backs out of the parking spot slowly, then pulls down the aisle with a rumble of the engine. Luckily, we meet few cars in the parking ramp and soon we’re joining traffic. Harry was right, he is a good driver and already a better one than Robbie on his motorcycle. I can’t keep count of how many times over the years he’s made me feel safe so effortlessly, and once again he’s done it, and it only makes me fall harder.
Harry’s long legs come to sit on the tarmac when we approach a red light, but it quickly switches to green and he turns, the engine purring beneath us. The wind whips past us, but the helmet helps with some of it and so do his borrowed gloves that do indeed swallow my hands. They’re warm and cozy inside, likened to the feeling consuming my chest in this moment.
I’m not sure if I’d admit it to him, but this is the most fun I’ve had on a motorcycle ride before, although again it’s not that hard to beat the past rides I’ve taken part in. Somehow albeit unsurprisingly, this makes me find him all the more sexy as he drives us safely through town and expertly. The only thing that could make it better is getting to rest my head on his back, or in the crook of his neck. Despite knowing he wouldn’t mind, I refrain. Louder in my mind is the desire to scooch forward and have my chest against his back, but that too seems too intimate and it kills me to stay away.
“How ya doin’, bug?” Harry calls over the noisy traffic and engine when we come to another red light.
“Good, thanks!”
“Glad t’ hear. Are ya warm enough?” he continues, the bike stilling when he places his feet on the road.
“Yeah,” I answer, never sure if I’m speaking not loud enough or too loud.
“‘Kay. Ya don’t hafta be so far away y’know. I don’t bite, Becks,” Harry comments lightheartedly. “Scooch closer t’ me, you’ll be warmer that way.”
I nod, again feeling stupid because he wouldn’t know the difference if I nodded or shook my head. I oblige and close the distance between us like I’ve been itching to do, soon feeling the warmth from his body against my front.
“There ya go, ‘s that betta?” he says, patting my knee, once again scaring me in a good way. I respond with a short affirmation and a comment about how warm he is, and his head moves up and down. “Good, you’ll help me stay warm too, y’know. Ya’ve always been like a li’l heater.”
I’m not sure if he hears my laugh, but I’m okay if he doesn’t, because this is all more than enough. It’s just enough to be with him, and now behind him on his bike resting against his back with my arms around his middle, I don’t know how I could ever have anything to complain about. But then I remember all of the things I want with him, and how they’re just an arm’s reach away and not again for nine days. I smile sadly against the inside cushioning of the helmet, assuring myself that I’m getting closer to that with every day that passes, and that not even a month ago I never would’ve believed where I’d be today.
“Almost there, Becks,” Harry tells me over his shoulder as he returns his feet in front of mine while the traffic moves ahead.
“Yeah, we’re almost there, Harry, after all of this time. Almost,” I mumble aloud, the words dancing across his back and taken away by the wind.
Maybe he heard me, and if he did I don’t care, because we’re so close. I can’t help but wonder if he thinks it too.
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