#dressing up lamps in bad period clothes and calling it a day is not the way

[bachaboska]

Hey fellas...how about we make a movie where characters have interactions and different character traits? Hmm chaps? How about some conversation gents? Some kiss on the mouth busters? And then as a treat you can hunt each other for sport.

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ LEARN TO PLAY NICE, OKKOTSU YŪTA

you know that your boyfriend yūta could be a little bit… difficult, but as much as you love him, you can’t let him get away with it all the time.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. fingering. teasing. you try to scold yūta. slight arguments. fem oral receiving. jealousy. toxic relationships. wc, 5.1k.

note. repost from my old series :)

it’s badly timed, the way yuuta’s been called away for a mission tomorrow, just days after your last party together— since the incident during the game. he knows you’re being different, you’re being distant and he doesn’t want to leave you — but can he trust you? he doesn’t know what’s changed but something has.

when you got home that night you could barely look at him. it was like you were accusing him of something — like he’d done something wrong but he’s not done anything, it was noritoshi who was teasing him with your history, who was trying to rile him up — like he was trying to take you, take what’s his, you’re his girlfriend. nobody will ever come between you, is it so bad for him to make sure everyone knows that?

but now yuuta leaves tomorrow — albeit it’s only for a few days until his mission is over and he’ll make sure it ends quickly. he’ll work hard if it means he’ll get back to you sooner rather than later. he’d do anything if it meant it got him back by your side. you know that, don’t you? 

your apartment is quiet as your boyfriend opens the door, sliding off his shoes and pulling his katana from across his chest to rest it in the hallway. the space is mostly only illuminated by the natural light outside — it’s still only around 4pm but he still notices the dull lamp light that’s coming from the living room as he follows the inviting glow. he knows that’s where he’ll find you — he knows you best afterall. your routine, your preferences, your everything.

and he does, yuuta smiles as he pushes past the door in the living room to see you sitting on the couch. you look like you’ve been out already, you’re dressed in a shirt and a mini little skirt as you scroll through your phone. the image of you sitting there makes his cock twitch, like it’s pulling him towards you as his eyes flick across your figure, lingering slightly on the way the fabric of your clothes expose the plush of your thighs.

it does make something ache in him slightly — you never mentioned you were going out today, especially not with him. did you go out because you knew he’d be at work? because you’re trying to avoid him? you know he never liked you wearing clothes like that when he wasn’t there to protect you, to steer away any prying eyes that might think you’re ripe for the picking. not when you’re yuuta’s.

but he swallows it down as he approaches you, replacing the burn in his throat with that same kind-hearted smile he always wears.

“are you doing something today? i thought we could spend it together.” his voice is gentle when he speaks and his steps are careful, expecting you to move your feet from where they rest on the space in the sofa next to you so he can sit. but you don’t, you don’t even look at him as he stands there— a little awkwardly as his question rests in the air, shuffling from foot to foot before he’s biting on the inside of his cheek and choosing to rest in the seat opposite you, on the other side of the room instead.

yuuta doesn’t like how far away you feel right. in more ways than one. this isn’t you.

“no, i don’t have plans.” your answer makes your boyfriend fidget slightly, turning the promise ring in nervous circles on his finger as his haunting gaze cuts into you. but he still tries because maybe you don’t realise the way you’re making him feel, maybe you’re just a little emotional, are you on your period? he’s sure his tracker on his phone said you weren’t due for another week or so… did it come early?

“o-okay, um.. do you want to spend the day with me?” he swallows loudly as he asks and he’s not sure if he’s imagining it, if his disarrayed state of mind is just pretending he heard you sigh at the question but you answer anyway.

“well you’re here now.” cold, your answer is cold. it’s missing the usual warmth, the usual love that laces your words. you must be mad at him? is someone trying to steer you away from him?

“hah… right.” yuuta doesn’t realise he’s trembling until his hand raises to push his hair back, to grip at the roots and pull because this must just be a nightmare…. he hates this. why does it hurt so much, why does he feel like he’s losing you? he’ll just have to bring you back to him that’s it, to find out who it is who’s trying to take you away from him so he can kill them. yeah, that’s what he’ll do. it’ll be easy.. and then you’ll love him again, right?

the silence between you both settles heavily although you don’t look uncomfortable at all — you look like you don’t even care that he’s there, your boyfriend, your love. the space between you both in the middle of the room feels miles long despite the way he could cover it in only a few steps.

“i’ll miss you when i’m gone…” his voice scratches in his throat,

“it’s only for a few days, yuuta.” why are you saying it like that? anytime away from you is hell. you’re too pre-occupied with scrolling through your phone to even look at him, are you talking to someone else? is that who it is that’s coming between you both? who is it that has your attention if not him?

“i know but i always miss you when you’re not there.” yuuta’s stare is sharp as he holds you, haunting, chilling— he feels cold while he waits for your gaze to lift to touch his. why won’t you look at him? please look at him.

but again, you ignore him — you don’t say anything and he can feel the way it makes something tremble in his ribs, in his bones. he feels like his body is tearing away at the seams because you’re supposed to be in love — you said you’d marry him, that you’d be together forever.. has a curse gotten to you? should he have refused to leave you alone these past few days… maybe if he never left you alone again, you’d love him like you used to…

“it’s because i love you. aren’t you going to miss me?” yuuta’s voice is lower when he asks, he fidgets on his seat before he chooses to push himself to stand. he needs to be closer to you, he needs to feel the warmth of you beneath him, he can’t leave you like this. he needs you to remind him that you still love him. you can do that with your body, like all those times before — all the reassurance and confessions of pure love, where are they now?

your eyes finally rise from your phone with his movement but he’s not met with the usual warm, loving gaze you normally wear. it’s emptier now, it almost makes him flinch.

“yuuta. we need to talk.” yuuta knew this was coming, who have you been talking to about him because this isn’t of your own will, he knows it’s not. someone must be manipulating you, was it someone from the party? had noritoshi reached out to you after you left to try and rekindle old flames? but you’d never do that to yuuta, right? he hates fighting with you. he knows you can be emotional but you’re never like this. he misses you. the real you.

“o-okay.” your words urge your boyfriend to take his seat back at the opposite side of the room — as much as it pains him to feel so far still. he needs you in his arms before you speak to him, so he knows you’re not actually as far away as you feel right now.

but you put your phone aside as he watches you— as he waits, inspects the way you push yourself to sit straighter, like you’re at an interview or some important meeting. he doesn’t think you notice the way your skirt seems to bunch up even shorter, hugging around your hips — it’s hard for yuuta to focus on anything else when he can almost see the peek of your panties beneath the short fabric. he swallows, trying to quell the sudden burn of arousal in his lower abdomen… and the one between his thighs.

it feels like it’s been so long since you’ve let him have you. you must be teasing him.

“yuuta, it’s about the party…. and a bunch of other things i guess.” you squeeze at the space between your brows like you’ve got a headache.

“o-okay, what about it? is everything okay?” yuuta’s voice sounds quiet, like he’s about to be scolded — deliberately soft, like it’ll lessen his punishment. like it’ll manipulate you in his favour, to forget about this and go back to loving him like you’re supposed to.

“no, everything’s not okay.” you sigh and he fidgets on his seat slightly — you’re not looking at him again, but he steals another look at the place between your legs. he can still remember how soft you feel, how wet you can get beneath his touch. he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now but is he supposed to resist what’s his? especially when you’ve been holding out on him.

“it’s about everything that happened with noritoshi, we need to talk about it.”

“i don’t want to talk about him.” the low tone of yuuta’s voice catches you off guard — he picks up on the way your eyes jump to him quickly, widening at the way he’s staring at you. holding you there. like you’re a bunny wondering when the wolf is going to hunt, when it’s going to claim it’s prey. not yet…. but soon.

“but, yuuta— we have to talk about it, this is what i mean.” you lean forward but your thighs open slightly and your boyfriend feels a soft ringing in his ears that accompanies the throb in his cock with the new angle. it’s like you’re deliberately showing even more of your plush skin to him, your soft panties, he wonders if you’re already wet beneath the fabric. the image almost makes him whimper beneath his breath before you cut him off again.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” your eyes narrow and yuuta’s barely looking at you now — he’s distracted, but that seems to only make you even more frustrated. “do you not think that there is anything wrong with how you handled it?”

“no, he was trying to take you from me. i did..” he swallows, his throat feels dry with want. he knows exactly the thing that would quench his thirst. “.. i did what i had to do.. to keep you.” he still answers your question despite the way his gaze is faltering, transfixed on the space between your thighs and his fingers twitch to squeeze into his own. it’s like it pains him to hold back, to not reach for you, to not have his hands palming at your figure.

“yuuta.” the first call of yuuta’s name is an exasperated sound, more of a sigh as you run your hands along your face. but then you notice… follow his line of sight until you realise what it is that’s holding his attention and you scoff.

“yuuta?” you’re louder now, almost snapping at his figure across the room, “are you fucking kidding me, right now?” that catches his attention — makes your boyfriend lidded, sleepy gaze snap back up to you before he’s flushing deep at the realisation that he’s been staring. the silence settles as you stare at him, noticing the almost pathetic bulge in his pants from a peek at your panties and you almost laugh, you’re too frustrated for it to hold any humour.

“fine. is this what you want?” your words cut through the silence in the room quickly and yuuta is hanging on your every word when it’s accompanied by the way you lean back to sink into the cushions behind you. your drool-worthy thighs spread with the movement, revealing the way the pretty fabric is hugging your folds tightly. there’s a damp spot in the light colour and it makes your boyfriends breathing catch because as annoyed as you are, you can’t deny the way having his attention still affects you.

“you’re such a fucking perv, yuu—“ your words are meantto sting as you pull back your feet to press them onto the edge of the couch, leaving yourself spread open for the dark-haired sorcerer at the other side of the room as he gives you a slow blink.

“h-hey. don’t say that, it’s not weird when it’s mine. you’remine.” but the sight of you— like this, spread open so invitingly— it’s like you’re urging yuuta to come forward, to take what’s his. it’s like a parting gift before his mission and he almost does as he pushes himself onto his knees. he’s ready to crawl, drag his body to you.

“i don’t want to fight anymore, i don’t want to leave you. so can i—“ his tone is wavering, trembling beneath the weight of his arousal and even the slight friction of his slacks along his hard cock makes his hips twitch.

but your answer makes him freeze before he can close the distance, your words feel like they cut him. it’s like they carve his heart out of his chest and you leave him there to bleed. “no. you can stay there and you can watch, until i say everything i have to say.”

yuuta’s staring at you, watching the way your hand suddenly appears to press down between your thighs— teasing along the clothed folds of your pussy as he rests on his knees across from you. “if this is what it’ll take to get through to you then i’ll do it.” you bite on your lower lip with the first swipe of your fingers between the petals of your cunt. he bets you feel warm.. wet, this isn’t fair. this is cruel.

“baby, please— don’t, let me..” the tone his voice takes next is deliberately defeated, like he’s just received bad news — like he’s grieving and it feels like he is��as his cold gaze watches the movement of your fingers. “i need to touch you before i go.” your fingers pet languidly along the fabric of your panties — dancing along the quickly dampening fabric before they’re pressing down on your puffy clit through the thin layer and yuuta feels something ache in his chest at the sweet sound it pulls from you.

“t-then you’ll watch… and you’ll listen.” the way you play with yourself is hypnotising and he studies every movement you make, every sound you pull from yourself as you bear down eagerly on the sensitive parts of your cunt.

it’s like yuuta knows what you’re going to do next, where you’re going to touch, he’s memorised these spots afterall— he knows them best. he’s panting like a dog from where he’s resting on his knees, pressing his palm into the leaking bulge in his pants, trying to quell the throb— the ache, as his whole body quakes and he’s moments away from begging until you begin to speak again.

“do i have your attention now, yuu?” you ask and yuuta’s nodding before you can even finish the sentence, his eyes are almost wet — it’s like he’s refusing to blink, refusing to miss even a second of you pressing your fingers between your folds. it’s like his own private show and it’s all for him, he wishes he could reach out to touch you, to feel you, but is this really a punishment when you look so pretty? when you’re playing with yourself while looking at him. it’s still all for him.

“baby,” he starts again, words whispery and choked off when his palm squeezes even harder against his clothed cock but you ignore him.

the pretty fabric of your panties have taken a darker colour beneath your movements now — you’re even wetter, needier. yuuta’s flushed down to his chest the moment you hook your fingers beneath the cotton to pull it to the side — to reveal the messy, glistening image of your puffy folds for your boyfriend like you’re serving a starving man a meal and telling him not to eat. “the party, yuuta. why did you storm out?”

your fingers return to your pussy quickly but your question hangs in the air. your boyfriends jaw is slack as he watches you — his eyes dark and lidded. he can barely breathe nevermind speak as the first swipe of your digits along your slick pussy catches on your skin to glisten. “you c-couldve spoken to me. i’d have told you, i haven’t spokento noritoshi in years.. you didn’t even ask me. how are we supposed to fix things if you won’t talk to me?”

yuuta hates the way you say his name. why are you even thinking about him when your fingers are between your thighs? he hates the way you speak of him in that dreamy, whispery tone — he doesn’t want you to say it at all and it makes him hiss through his teeth with the next hard press of his palm against his twitching cock. he can barely hear you with the way the blood echoes in his ears. he feels lightheaded, like he might pass out.

“don’t you trust me?” your question jolts him slightly and despite his half-hormone drunken state he answers quickly, just as you sink one of your fingers into your twitching hole. the wet, tacky sound that sounds from your pussy makes yuuta’s whole body shake.

“y-yes. with all of me, baby. but.. it’s him, i was scared he was trying to take you away from me.” you don’t notice it, you’re too lost in bliss when you add another finger to see the way yuuta inches himself closer. he’s just trying to get a closer look, trying to see more of you. he wants to see the way every twist of your wrist sinks your fingers even deeper into your cunt — the way they glisten everytime they pull back and he moans. “you didn’t see.. how he was looking at you.”

his lips part with his next exhale and his cock feels uncomfortably hard in his slacks. you’re torturing him, he already feels so ridiculously close and you haven’t touched him at all — but you look so pretty like this. the way your chest is rising and falling, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin, the saccharine sight of your cunt. he’s close enough now for his hands to rest on either side of the couch at your sides as he breathes deep. “please, baby— let me..”

“but i don’t want him, yuuta.” your words cut off his attempt, his plea and the next look yuuta gives you is almost chilling. you can’t deny the way it makes your walls squeeze tight around your fingers, the way it makes your body yearn for him. he’d broken you that way and you’re hyperaware of the way your own fingers are no match for his, you can barely reach the spots your boyfriend taught you of in the first place.

“then who.. who do you want? tell me, baby. i need to hear you say it. it hurts.” his words almost growl as they’re spoken, he’s almost curling over you completely but he plays it safe — letting his hand rest softly on the inside of your thigh as he pushes you to spread wider.

“i want you, yuuta.“ you blame the pleasure for making you go a little easier on yuuta than you’d originally planned to. you’d planned to not let him touch you at all, but he’s looking at you like he’s starving— you’re almost scared to move incase he sinks his teeth into you instead.

“i listened, please.. please, l-let me touch you i— i need to touch you,” he’s pressing his hips into the edge of the couch but his knees still rest on the ground as he leans over you. he’s forcing you to meet his gaze, so intense you can’t look away — you need to listen to him, how are you supposed to say no when the dark blue in his eyes are almost telling you that’s not an option.

“yuuta,” you sink your fingers into your pussy again and the sweet little drawl your voice takes as it cracks is answer enough when yuuta leans even closer to you. his hands are cold when they pull back yours, making you whine with the loss of friction before you shudder at the sudden press of his fingers stretching against your walls.

you try to close your thighs around his wrist, even just as a way to try and keep your composure, but his free hand presses down on you to keep you spread. he moves you so easily, with such confidence, it makes you feel even hotter.

your lips part to cry at the way yuuta pushes into you, the weight of his body knocking your thighs to spread even wider as he leans up to press sweet kisses against your cheeks. they’re used as a means to soothe you as he scissors his fingers inside of your plush walls. he’s not even ashamed by the way his hips instinctively hump into the side of the sofa now that he’s finally got his hands on you again. now that you’ve given him exactly what he wants, like you always do.

your legs kick out, shake at the way his fingers work you so quickly — brushing against the spongy spots inside of you that you can’t reach, the ones that make your back arch into him as he feeds you another finger. you take it so greedily with how wet you are, walls stretching around the give of his hands and your boyfriend groans with the next thrust of his clothed cock against the plush fabric beneath you, lost in how needy your pussy is for him. he knew you were just feeling emotional, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong for you to be mad at him afterall.

your hips shake and your lips part to cry out yuuta’s name as you grab at the expanse of his broad shoulders — humping into his hand as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

“shhhh, i know. i’ll help you, okay? i’ll take care of you because i know you need me, you know how good i can make you feel.” yuuta’s words are breathed against your cheek and he begins to swirl gentle circles into your clit with his thumb while his fingers drag more of your slick out. he’s making a sloppy mess between your thighs and he can’t help but feel a little smug about it. about how quickly your walls seem to crumble for him, your love for him is so obvious in your need.

“see, baby. how good it feels?” he works your body with practiced precision, watching your hips twist under his touch when he pushes his fingers deeper, feeling your walls tighten around the digits as he speeds up his ministrations, pulling a surprised whine from your lips.

the reaction yuuta’s able to illicit from you so easily is nothing to do with how he’s studied you for the last few months — watched you play with your pussy so many times he can barely count. he’s even watched back the pretty videos he’s taken on his phone, maybe he’ll tell you about the next ones he takes so you can look at him as he does — make that pretty face for the camera.. quite like the expression you’re wearing for him now.

“mhm,” you moan, albeit a short reply to your boyfriends needy babbles but he barely hears you. he’s began his own pace now, humping his hips mindlessly into the side of the couch beneath you like he’s an untrained pet. but he doesn’t care enough to be embarrassed about it, not when you’re pulling him closer — walls squeezing around him so tight it makes his cock throb against the tight fabric of his slacks.

“it’s because it’s me… it’s because it’s love. pure, mutual love.” yuuta’s hips tremble and the couch knocks loudly against the wall behind you with his next thrust, gritting his teeth and you whimper, already feeling yourself edging towards your release.

“yuu— i’m so close.” your hips grinding eagerly into his touch, brushing your clit harder against his thumb as your warm cunt pulses around his digits, sucking him back in everytime he drags them out. you blink up at him, starry-eyed and already fucked out as your fingers tighten around the fabric stretched over his chest, pulling him closer as your chest heaves.

“i wish you c-could see how pretty you look, just for me. all m-mine. this is why i cant let anyone else have you… it’s not my fault.” yuuta groans and his dark blue gaze is blown and narrowed, heavy when he leans over you to kiss up the column of your neck in the way that has your thighs spreading wider.

the way you’re trembling only spurs him on, scissoring his fingers inside you and hammering them against the sweet spot that has your thighs twitching before he smashes his mouth against yours. he’s being greedy, it’s like he’s proving a point — drinking up your moans like he’s reminding you he’s the only one that’ll ever hear them —pushing his own name between your lips as his hips jolt and grind against the side of the sofa as he chases his own pathetic pleasure. he’s too focused on your own to even care.

“i don’t like when you’re mad at me. i was j-just protecting you.. he was going to take you from me. do you forgive me? d-do you still love me? i need to hear you say it.. please.” yuuta’s voice is desperate as he works you, but he knows you’ll give into him when you’re so close to release. that’s why he’s waited until he has you here, until you’re clawing and panting for him— walls squeezing so tight around his fingers he can barely move. until your mind is so thick with soft pleasure that you’d do anything he’d ask you for your release.. that’s how well he knows you. how well he’s trained you.

“y-yes, yuuta.. just don’t stop— ah!” its sudden, the way you feel your thighs shake and the blissful feeling of your orgasm rushes through your veins. your walls flex and pulse around his thick digits as he continues to sink them into you, drawing gentle circles into your clit to prolong your pleasure, while he swallows your needy moans and babbles of his name with his own. it’s your orgasm that sets him off, that has him curling over you — hips stuttering into the side of the couch as he creams and soaks the fabric of his slacks, and he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t still wrapped around him.

you’re still grabbing at yuuta’s shoulders, keeping him close — you must be scared he’s going to leave you, you must not want him to leave for that mission… was this all an act so that you could have him like this? that must be it. you were just pretending.. he should’ve never questioned your love for him. he’s done everything rightafterall.

his fingers are slick as he pulls them back from you— he’s fucked out and flushed and despite the uncomfortable dampness in his pants, he stays in his place over you as he hugs you closer. “can we not fight anymore?” his voice has returned to his usual gentle tone, it’s like that twisted little switch in his head has flicked and he’s your sweet, kind boyfriend again— gazing up at you, massaging and drawing hearts into your skin.

you let your lidded gaze linger on yuuta’s momentarily before you look away again, something buzzes uncomfortably beneath your skin where he touches you.

“we can go again, i-is that okay? i haven’t had enough yet, baby. i need more.” you didn’t think it was possible but yuuta pulls you even closer— until youre flush against him, sweating hard beneath your clothes but you’re suddenly aware of how cold his hands still feel against you. why has it taken you so long to realise? have you always felt this way? you almost feel guilty for feeling like this when you’re supposed to…. when you do love him.

but there’s still so much left to say— you’re not sure you’re as satisfied with yuuta’s answer as your body feels. the conversation as a whole didnt go as planned at all, why is why you find something in your bones screaming at you to pull away. no, it’s not enough, it’s not what you wanted. but do you really think trying to talk to him again will bring you a better outcome? how many times have you tried already? is there really no getting through to him?

“i’ll miss you. will you miss me?” he asks but he thinks he already knows the answer as he leans in closer to smear his lips along your cheek— he can tell you’re deep in thought and he wonders if you’re thinking about him. he’s sure you’ll be sad to see him go for his mission but he thinks you’re cute when you’re upset about it. he’ll make sure you know he’s always thinking about you, he’ll call you morning and night — you’ll have your location on for him afterall… so will he really be as apart from you as you think?

“yes, yuuta.” your words don’t carry much emotion but yuuta’s sure it’s only because you don’t want to get upset. you’re trying to be strong for him because you know it’ll make leaving you harder if you weren’t. not that leaving you was ever easy, maybe he’ll have to take you with him on the next one.

his arms circle around your waist to squeeze as he nuzzles himself into you — basking in your warmth as he coats you in some more wet kisses, tracing them along your skin until you’re shuddering beneath him. “i’ll text you everyday. so you remember i’m always with you, forever.” another kiss and you’re still beneath him so he continues, maybe his words will soothe you.. make you a little happier. “but i’ll come back to you, i promise.. because i love you, okay?”

you don’t offer him much, only a sigh… but yuuta knows you’ll be waiting for him…. you love him, thats what you said afterall.

“yeah…. i’m sure that’s what it is, yuuta.”

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[heartkyeom]

now or never pt. 4

xu minghao x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (finale)

word count: 10.4k

synopsis: when you make a chance encounter with your ex, you end up saying that you’re engaged to your estranged neighbor xu minghao. when you find out your ex is coming to your friend’s wedding, you’ve only got a month to become a convincing couple.

warnings: chronic illness talk, so much fluff, filthy oral sex lmao, descriptions of female anatomy blowjobs, long car rides, etc.

notes: part 4 is here! finally! longest chapter yet!!! took me exactly a month but I needed to make sure it was perfect. this chapter is building out minghao's character a bit more with some more relationship progress! this covers the last week before the wedding, so there's only one more chapter left !!! thank you for all the love on this series, it feels like it's getting bigger and bigger with every part which is so incredible! please enjoy as always 💓

tag list: @lavenderautumnx @mangogyu @idyllic-ghost @thetigeragenda @sleeplessdawn @bfwonu @soffrine @kwonranghae @butterfliesinthenightsky @sugarrimajins @hitorijanaikara-blog-blog @cosmicwintr @lztespring @justasoftstan @lilactangerine @jeongiegram @hoohoohope @itzelise06 @bonsaijoons @trashygigi @playboygeniusphilanthropist @thedeeppoet @mo-onlar @kyoko-22 @thesunsfullmoon

You wish that the rest of the day could’ve gone well, but Joshua’s confession just floats in your brain, leaving you unable to do much else with yourself.

Minghao drops you off back at your front door after your outing, revenge dress still not revealed. You wanted to see it, but he can sense you’re too tired to deal with it all.

“No, I’m ready, I can look at it,” You reply half heartedly. You try to muster up your enthusiasm, but he can see right through it.

“No, I’m making you go back to sleep. We can just wait on it. I need you to be excited, and I don’t think your mood is anywhere near there,” He pulls your hand to his mouth, leaving a kiss on your palm. You close your eyes and take a breath before glaring at him again.

“Fine,” you pout.

“Let me know if you wanna see me again today, ok?” He pulls you into a hug and you seem to melt into his arms.

“Okay,” You whisper into his ear. You linger in the hug a bit longer than you expected, it feels like a silent plea for him to stay. Yet, you pull away, exchange goodbyes, and tuck yourself into your apartment before you can cry in front of him. You don’t even get to wallow in your sadness for very long before that familiar pain seizes your body without much warning.

Flare ups never give you much time to prepare for impact, you just have to hope you’re lucky enough to catch them in a place where you can sit for an extended period of time.

The rest of the day is a blur, you don’t even remember trying to change clothes or freshen up. You ignore your phone to focus on your comfort show playing on your laptop screen, moving only to charge your computer when prompted.

You knew it was bad to push everyone away for something you couldn’t control, but you still felt the need to process things like this alone.

You forget that the front door was unlocked, so you don’t hear anyone come in until you hear his voice. “Brat, where are you?” You hear the door lock behind him.

The pet name makes you pause the show and close your laptop. You push yourself further into your blanket, tucking your face away into the soft fabric.

“Hello?” You hear him call out again, but you still don’t move. It felt so childish to hide from him, but you couldn’t make yourself stand up to meet him even if you wanted to.

You hear him walk through the living room into your bedroom. His footsteps stop at the sight of you. Before he sits, he goes to turn on the lamp near your side of the bed before making his way to you. You see the pitch black room illuminate with that recognizable soft warmth and you start to feel even worse.

You feel the other side of the bed dip as he settles onto the comforter.

“What’s going on?” His voice is low.

He’s close enough that you can smell his cologne and you realize it’s the most comforting scent in your life. There were traces of him around your apartment, but nothing beat the real thing.

“I can’t move at all,” You push the blanket off your face, but you can’t look at him. You just focus your eyes on the creases in your sheets. He seems to understand exactly what you mean by the way he shifts his weight towards you.

“Shit,” His voice turns frantic, and he grabs your face without a second thought. You finally make eye contact with him and his eyes are nervous. It unnerves you to see him so scared of you, you feel like you have to comfort him instead.

“I’m fine, Hao,” You whisper. He’s not convinced at all, if anything he looks more scared.

“Please, darling, don’t think about your pride, I need to know how I can help you,” His voice shakes and you feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. How could you try to deny how much pain you’re in around him when he’s done nothing but try to understand you? His pleading ultimately convinces you to let your guard down.

“I haven’t taken any of my medicine. It feels much worse when I don’t,” Your face twists into discomfort.

“Okay, where is it?” His voice is now stable, he seems resolute in his quest to be strong for you.

“Top shelf of my cabinet in the bathroom, there are two big bottles with red labels on them. They should be right next to each other,” Your eyes are closed by the time you finish giving him instructions, and you assume Minghao is anxiously searching by the way the bed lets up.

He only rummages in the bathroom for a minute or so before returning. He puts everything down on the nightstand before grabbing your attention, holding your face in his hands.

“Hey, can you sit up at all? Is that too hard right now?”

“I can try,” You barely move an inch before his arms are anchored to your side, slowly helping you sit up before you could do anything yourself.

You’re surprisingly comfortable now, and he takes the initiative to remove the blanket from your face. “You seemed overheated,” His brows are knitted in concern as he strokes your cheek with his fingers. You’re definitely sweating, so you’re glad he did something.

“Is there an order you’re supposed to take these in?” He holds one of the bottles up and you nod.

“The bigger one first or else I could die,” You reply nonchalantly, but his eyes read as very concerned. He’s staring at you with that same frantic look from before, but you relieve his worries almost immediately.

“Kidding,” you offer a small smile and he scoffs.

“Don’t joke right now, I’m worried sick about you,” He points an accusing finger, but his face melts into a nervous smile. His worried energy makes you feel much worse the second time around.

“But I do take that one first,” You confirm and he’s nodding his head. He grabs your water bottle from the nightstand, setting it between his legs. As he sits with crossed legs, reading your pill bottles with attentive eyes while his hair hangs in front of his face, you want to cry.

You realize the man in front of you deserves to be let in.

He doesn’t deserve to be ghosted for 12 hours while you’re in excruciating pain, only wanting to help you in your time of need. Even though you’re used to a concerning level of hyper-independence and self-sufficiency, his actions start to convince you that it shouldn’t be that way.

Why do you need to suffer when someone is waiting to help you?

Wouldn’t he have dropped everything to come take care of you hours ago?

The thought of pushing him away without considering his feelings eats at you on the inside.

He gets the first bottle open and feeds you the first two pills one by one, holding your water bottle up for you so you can sip without moving a finger.

“Your bedside manner is really good,” You nod at him once you’ve finished drinking your water and he runs his fingers through his hair with a gentle smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you treat me better than some of the nurses I’ve had.”

You’re not lying either which makes the hint of concern on his face hurt even more.

“Okay, one more,” You didn’t notice that he already opened the second bottle, but you accepted the pill from his fingers once again. He holds up the water for you one last time, waiting for you to swallow before his eyes ease up on you.

“All done,” He runs his hand across your cheek again. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything, right?” It’s not an intruding question when he asks it, there’s no judgment behind his eyes.

You shake your head no and the embarrassment washes over you. “I’m sorry,” You start sobbing and he scrambles to move everything in his lap to get closer to you.

“Why?”

“You just wanted to know how I was feeling and you didn’t even ask for any of this,” You wipe your eyes with your sleeves, your words start to get lost between hiccups. He gently moves your hands out of the way to wipe your tears. The moment he puts his hands down, you pull him in close and he lets you cry into his chest. He whispers comforting words into your ear, cradling your head with his arm. He waits for you to stop sniffling before he speaks up again.

“I don’t like you because I pity you. You have to know that,” He whispers in your ear before pulling back to face you. “You’re so determined and kind, there’s so many things I admire about you when you’re not worrying me half to death,” He makes a jokingly frustrated glance that makes you blush.

“But seriously, I’m happy to help you. You don’t bother me, taking care of you is not a chore. I want to take care of you as long as you want me here. Okay?” He’s got that soft adoring tone in his voice, the one that’s reserved for pulling you out of your overthinking. It works like a charm every time.

“Okay, I believe you,” You nod, letting his words sink into your subconscious slowly. Compassion is still so foreign to you, but you can tell he is determined to change that.

“Let’s have some food and get washed up. I’m gonna make you some tea as well,” The look on his face shows that he’s already got everything laid out in his mind.

“I don’t know what you did, but my muscles already feel better.” It would always take far too long for your medicine to kick in, but Minghao seemed to be gentle enough to make a significant difference. It seemed your body seemed to know the difference when you were being treated gently as well.

“I have magic powers,” He winks and you let him go to start his dinner prep.

He ended up doing everything for you, to say he pampered you is definitely an understatement. He doesn’t let you lift a single finger for the rest of the night, only letting you go when you demand to brush your teeth on your own. You didn’t expect him to be so attentive, but you think he’s just trying to make up for not being able to take care of you before.

When you’re finished eating dinner and your tea is gone, he’s practically attached to you in bed. He can’t stop himself from burying his face into the side of your neck, only moving to nestle himself closer to you. Minghao always starts off sleeping on his own side whenever you’re in bed together, so to start off very close to you is a nice dynamic shift. You’re slowly discovering how important physical contact is for him, it makes you feel even more connected to him.

He somehow convinced you to change into new pajamas, but you do feel more like a human being now. You should’ve spoken up before you were both attempting to sleep, but your brain makes it impossible to settle without bringing your thoughts up.

“Hao?”

“Yeah?” He rasps out, blinking his eyes open at you. You immediately felt bad knowing he needed the rest, but you didn’t want to ignore the chance to speak your mind now that he was awake.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” You pressed a kiss to his hair for the trouble.

“I wasn’t really asleep yet,” You hear him take a deep breath and he pulls himself closer to you. “What’s up?”

“I don’t want to stop seeing you after the wedding. I’ve been trying to find a good way to tell you officially, but I don’t think the agreement holds up much anymore,” You finish ranting and he’s surprisingly quiet. You feel him let go of your hold and your first instinct thinks you might have fucked up.

He didn’t want to be serious with you.

The lamp suddenly flashes on, forcing you to blink to adjust to the new light. He seems lost in thought until he meets your eyes.

“I don’t wanna stop seeing you either,” He smiles so brightly that it spreads to his eyes, “I think you’ve got a little too much of my heart for me to say no.”

You could’ve cried from relief. You had a suspicion that someone who took a dress commission from you for free didn’t want to be just friends.

“Thank god,” You put your head in your hands and sigh to yourself. Was it too soon to think you could be in love with him? Absolutely.

Yet, did those feelings grow when you saw how giddy he got at the thought of you? Yes.

“So you were nervous to ask me?” He reaches out for your hold and you do your best to crawl over to him. He closes the distance when he notices a hint of struggle on your face and wraps his arms around you tightly.

“A little bit,” You mumble into his chest. You feel his giggles vibrate across your body and he runs his hands down your back.

“You make me nervous too, for the record. I figured if I fucked up the dress, that was it,” He sighed loudly. It was nice to know the feeling was mutual though, that you were both feeling so excited yet nervous about the connection that it stopped you both in your tracks.

“You couldn’t possibly fuck up the dress, though,” You knew he was far too talented for that, especially after seeing his vision for other projects in his studio.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” He admitted, making you both burst into laughter. It was nice to see him hype himself up for a second despite the humble attitude he adopted most times when complimented on his work.

You both talked about fashion related things until you felt pulled toward sleep once again. Your head is nestled on his chest and you’re almost certain that his idle touches to your skin knock you out quickly.

You almost think you’re dreaming things when you hear him whisper to you.

“Don’t scare me like that again, I can’t lose you,” It’s so faint but it’s enough to push you into sleep completely.

You don’t want to scare him like that either, especially since he’s proven how much he can be there for you.

You figure it’s time to show him how much you care for him too.

--

“I don’t want to be there when you try it on,” Minghao remains insistent at your front door.

You’re not exactly convinced with the garment bag hanging over your shoulder. Minghao had finally given you permission to see the dress, but with one stipulation that you couldn’t exactly wrap your head around.

“Why not?” You try to stop your face from twisting into a discontent expression.

“I imagine it’ll be kinda emotional, I don’t want to get in the way of that. I know, it sounds stupid, but I’ve done it for so long with my commissions. Just trust me,” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You give him an anxious glance and he smiles at you. “You can come over once you’ve tried it on. You can tell me all your reactions and everything, I promise!” He exclaims.

“Okay, I trust you,” You nod through the response. You exchange quick goodbyes and you shut the door behind you.

You give yourself a few seconds before you’re practically running into your bedroom.

You lay the bag down gently onto your bed and unzip down the front until the dress is partially exposed. From first glance, you can tell it’s dramatic. The sight of a strapless gown takes your breath away.

Before you can even take it out of the bag, you notice a note attached to the front of the plastic. You read it to yourself:

To my muse-

I hope I made you the perfect revenge dress. If you don’t like it, then feel free to drag me through the mall to find you something better. It’ll only hurt my feelings a little bit.

Hao

The end of the note left you laughing, but a few things make your heart clench.

First, muse. You don’t know why it pulls so much at your heart to hear him call you that. It’s probably the weight of the situation, how quickly you’ve grown together, it all feels so precious to you.

Second, the idea that whatever he made you could be worse than a department store dress didn’t make sense at all. You’re sure whatever he made would be nestled in your heart forever, the intimacy of making you something this personal was not lost on you.

You don’t want to mull on the note for too long, so you place it on your dresser before coming back to look at the dress again.

You carefully unwrap it out of the plastic and hold it up to get a better look at it.

It’s breathtaking, even just on a hanger. The black sheen fabric feels so lush in your fingers, you can’t describe how it makes you feel.

You expected it to be a bit revealing, but the combination of the strapless neckline and the high slit are almost lethal.

It takes you a few minutes to actually get dressed, but once it’s on, you feel like a new person. The moment you see yourself in the mirror, you’re speechless.

First of all, the dress fits perfectly. It hugs your hips and compliments your figure so well that you don’t think you’ve ever seen your body look so at ease in a garment.

The strapless neckline compliments your chest, slightly bolstered by the structured corset bodice. The slit is almost dangerously high, you’re staring at just how exposed your leg is.

It feels dangerous to even wear it in the comfort of your bedroom. You can only imagine what power it would give you in public.

You don’t think any of the jewelry you have in your closet would be good enough to match it, but something would have to do.

Minghao was right that wearing the dress brings something out of you. It wasn’t about feeling desirable by Joshua anymore, it was a rebirth of your identity without him. It was cathartic to see yourself wear something that would force you to grab attention instead of hiding away.

This dress reminds you that weren’t going to minimize yourself for anyone anymore.

After a few more glances at yourself, you’re itching to get back in your sweatpants so you can run to Minghao’s door.

Once you get out of the dress, you get dressed in your other clothes in record speed. You barely remember to put on your slides before you’re out the front door.

You’re nearly breathless when you arrive at his door. You end up knocking on the door so loudly that he’s almost shocked to see you on the other side.

You push yourself past him, and he’s watching you with a mischievous eye while closing the door behind him.

You kiss him before he can say anything, capturing his lips so quickly that he nearly stumbles into the hallway closet.

“It’s so perfect,” you say between kisses, “I just wanna kiss you because I can’t pay you for it.” You’re moaning into the kisses at this point, so much so that Minghao pulls away with a dazed expression.

“You love it that much?” He bites his lip at how eager you are.

“Yes, I’m fucking obsessed with it. Thank you so much,” You rest your head in the crook of his neck for a second before looking at him again.

“You’re welcome, darling. I’m really glad you like it.”

He admires your face for a bit too long that you start to feel pulled in by his glance. The longer you look at him, desire overtakes any of the rationality you have left.

“I don’t think I’ve said thank you enough,” Your hands land on his chest, you can barely stop yourself from wandering down to his nipples.

“Show me then,” He can’t help himself when he teases you, taking your hands and snaking them underneath his shirt.

His skin still feels like a surprise to you despite your previous encounters. Suddenly, everything in you wants to take things much slower than your hasty entrance.

You’ll have so much time to go hard and fast with him, but capturing your unspoken showing of gratitude feels much more paramount.

--

Although having time to figure out your career was nice, the threat of not having money for rent was much bigger. You thought carefully about Minghao’s words, how the idea of wanting to start over with fashion was enough at the moment, but you were tired of sitting and waiting.

You needed to take action.

You didn’t want to rely on Minghao to get your foot in the door, despite him probably wanting to help you out.

Your portfolios from college didn’t exactly reflect your current vision as a designer, but they had enough material for you to present to any potential employers. You didn’t have much to lose, so you spent hours trying to scour through resources online for any possible leads on apprenticeships or openings for residencies.

You sent far too many emails to fashion houses around the city within one day, including Minghao’s employer Semicolon. You get so wrapped up in typing that Minghao has to pry your laptop away from you in the middle of you drafting an email, much to your dismay. He reassures you that whoever responds back will be lucky to have you, which is true, but you still try not to get your hopes up about anything.

Thus, when you receive an email the next day from the head of Minghao’s department, to say you’re shocked is an understatement.

You wouldn’t be working directly with runway clients, but in the print department instead. You had more experience with magazine work anyways, back when you used to get involved with a few different student magazines on campus as an underclassmen.

It’s a lower level designer job, but a job nonetheless. You weren’t exactly in a position to turn down the interview, especially when you knew how well they paid at all levels.

Your interview happened to be on the big day of Minghao’s consideration for a promotion as well.

He mentioned it in his sleepy ramblings a few nights ago, how he was up for a promotion to head designer. He would be the lead designer on any national and international runway collections that the company created, positioning him as one of the most established in-house designers at Semicolon.

It was a major deal, especially since he would be the youngest person to be head designer in Semicolon’s history. All eyes were on him, and you were certain that the pressure was getting to him.

You both stood outside the company building on the day of, 15 minutes before your meetings, hands intertwined with similar levels of nerves accompanying you. You turn to face him with a nervous look in your eyes.

“We’ll be fine, right?” You ask quietly.

“We have to be,” He nods at you, absentmindedly biting his lip. You look at the building again with scattered eyes, your brain doesn’t even feel remotely prepared for this.

“The worst we can get is a no,” It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself as you say it, but you need to hear it out loud.

“Exactly,” He affirms you with a gentle squeeze to your hand. “We’ll walk in together, take the same elevator and no matter what happens, it’ll be okay.”

You nod and take one last deep breath before he starts leading you both inside the building. Your senses are too focused on the task at hand to look around the lobby this time, you don’t seem to relax until you both step inside the elevator.

You’re going to floor 8 while he goes to floor 19. He presses both buttons and faces you again. “You’re gonna do perfect, darling. You have everything you need,” He leaves a kiss on your forehead and pulls you into a short yet tight hug.

“You too. You’re gonna make the best head designer this company has ever seen,” You kiss his cheek the moment you’re out of the hug. He nods with a silent certainty that things will go well. The 8th floor chime comes sooner than you want, but you step out, clutching your portfolio for dear life. You look at him one last time before the elevator closes and he blows you a kiss with a short wave.

You can barely smile back before the elevator doors close and you’re alone again. You figure that you’ll never be 100% ready for whatever happens, so you look for the designated office before you can question yourself any longer.

45 minutes later, you’re left a bit unnerved as you close the office door behind you. The elevator ride back down to the lobby has your mind completely swimming, but you know that you can’t process any of it until Minghao is out of his meeting.

You both agreed to wait outside for each other once the interviews were over. You figured that you’d be out before him, and your suspicions were correct when you didn’t notice anyone sitting outside on the benches near the entrance.

It feels like you’re waiting a lifetime until you finally see his figure walk out of the revolving doors. His face is unreadable when he approaches you with a small wave.

“Okay, we’re gonna say yes or no if we got the job on the count of 3,” You brace yourself for whatever he says and he agrees to your proposition immediately.

“1, 2, 3,” He counts slowly.

“Yes,” You both speak in unison.

His eyes go wide and you nearly drop your bag.

“Oh my fucking god,” You scream into his ear, wrapping your arms around him until you can barely feel your fingertips. He reciprocates the hug immediately and nearly tackles you in the process. You’re both just waddling around in this hug for a few minutes, drinking in each other’s success until you can barely breathe.

“You deserve this so fucking much,” He comes up for air and almost knocks you over with a kiss. Your mouth melts into his instantly, you can’t stop your tongue from pushing into his mouth. You can feel just how excited he is by the way he holds your face with his hands.

He’s quite good at the push and pull, he still knows how to make you flustered after each kiss. He pulls away with a giggle, leaving you completely breathless.

“You do too, head designer,” You push his shoulder playfully and you can see the tips of his ears turn red.

“Come on, let’s go home so we can get wasted,” He pouts and you can’t exactly say no to that face.

“Can we drink the cheap wine I have in my fridge? I think I have too much to drink on my own,” You ask him as you both walk back to his car arm in arm.

“Absolutely, we can do anything you want. We deserve to celebrate,” He can’t help himself as he leaves a kiss on your cheek.

You want to bottle up this feeling so badly. Yet, you’re sure that you’ll always remember the way the light summer breeze hitting your face, holding hands with your lover, smiling until your cheeks hurt because you both got lucky on the exact same day in the same building.

It feels like nothing else really matters in the moment besides the way Minghao kisses you, as if he’ll never be able to taste your lips again.

You hold him to the promise of drinking and making out, the former coming first. You arrange a few bottles of wine on your living room floor, slowly making your way through them together until you’re too giggly to keep going.

You give up on drinking out of wine glasses and you decide to periodically switch bottles instead, taking a few sips of one bottle before switching flavors.

Soon enough, he was pushing your hand away from the bottle with a small giggle.

“Stop it,” He swats your hand lightly and quickly captures it between his hands. The swift movement makes you scream and he’s shushing you, but you both fall right back into laughter.

“You’re drinking just as much as me!” You exclaim. He pushes his lips out to deflect your statement, but it’s true. His cheeks are flushed and he’s laughing at everything you’re saying, a classic tell that he’s drunk.

“Maybe I just wanted to look at you, how about that darling?” He tilts his head and your playful frustration comes out.

“Where did this darling thing come from? You started doing it out of nowhere,” You scrunch your face at him and he’s slightly embarrassed.

“Didn’t want to call you brat forever. Do you not like it?” He gets slightly quiet and you hit his shoulder. There’s absolutely no way you could ever hate his nicknames, they feel too comfortable for him to ever stop.

“I love it! I just like brat too,” You shrug your shoulders and he smirks at you. “No, not like that, you’re so gross,” You push him again and he puts his arms around you before you can touch him again.

“I didn’t mean it in that way, brat,” He presses lots of kisses to your cheek, enough that you want to squirm away out of fake discomfort.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Your words start slurring to the point where Minghao is stumbling to get you both some water.

“Where are you going?” You shut your eyes but reach out for him, making grabby hands that he can’t help but coo at.

“You’re so fucking cute, but you need water. We both do,” You hear him come back and sit next to you again. He taps your face to get you to open your eyes and he’s handing you the cup of water carefully. He can’t even let you hold it completely, he’s cupping your hands and helping you drink the entire cup. You don’t want to admit that it’s easier to have him help, so you keep it to yourself.

He gulps down his own cup of water and moves them out of the way so that you don’t knock them over.

“Let me take care of you,” You sigh, your shoulders visibly lowering with the release of air. Your eyes are not shy about wandering to his crotch and he laughs a bit too loudly.

“You don’t have to do anything, it’s okay,” He insists.

“I want to,” You fight back immediately, the desire taking over when you lay your hands flat on his thighs. There’s a beat of silence before you ask him for permission.

“Can I?” It’s a whisper that you’re not even sure he heard, you can’t even look in his eyes. He lifts your chin to meet your gaze. His eyes are so forgiving that you know he wants it before he can even speak out loud.

“Go ahead, baby,” He nods and your hands are already unzipping his pants, you don’t have to give him time before he’s taking off both his pants and boxers at once.

The sight of his cock still leaves you speechless, no matter if he’s giving you one quick round before he’s going to work or if he gets to take his time with you. Precum is already leaking from his tip, you wish you had the patience to tease him like you wanted to, but you just want the taste of him too badly.

He’s visibly hard, so much so that the moment you touch him he flinches.

“It’s okay, love, just relax,” You reassure him. You lick the underside of his cock and he lets out a shaky breath, he clearly didn’t expect it which makes it even better.

You settle yourself between his legs, your nails draw light scratches down his thighs and his eyes are already fluttering shut.

You don’t give him a warning before you take his length in your mouth. You hear him moan and it spurs you on to take him completely, he hits the back of your throat and the sting you feel doesn’t matter when his reactions are so pretty. It makes him hiss and he grabs your shoulder out of desperation. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum if you keep going this hard,” He whispers, his grip tightening slightly.

You pull off briefly to give him an innocent smile and he returns it quickly. “Okay,” You take him into your mouth again after your reply, slowly moving your head back and forth until he’s completely comfortable. His desperate groans are your kryptonite, so you subconsciously speed up and let him adjust to it. The taste of his precum mixed with your saliva is intoxicating, it definitely helps to hear him whining.

You feel him clutch your hair, guiding you slightly further onto him. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, baby,” His voice is laced with so much pleasure that it drives you crazy. This is definitely the messiest blowjob you’ve ever given, but he doesn’t seem to mind how sloppy it is.

You experimentally push his cock to the back of your throat again and he lets out a strangled groan, nearly letting go of your hair. His noises are the only thing filling the room, a mix of whines and moans filling your ears.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” His reply is barely coherent, but it’s enough to know he’s coming towards the edge. You suck him a bit more before you move your mouth off of him again and he complains.

“I’m so close,” He whispers. He watches you stand up and straddle yourself onto his lap. The new friction makes him throw his head back in pleasure, screwing his eyes shut. He’s willing himself to not cum on the spot, focusing instead on your face.

You want to be rational, you should still be between his legs sucking him off so that he can just cum in your mouth. Yet, your core feels so neglected that selfishness takes over.

“I want you to cum in me,” You put on your best innocent voice to try and convince him. His eyebrows raise in suspicion.

“Are you on birth control?” He questions and you nod immediately, leaning down to place kisses in the crook of his neck. You hadn’t had a proper conversation about experimenting during sex, but your drunk subconscious mind decided to speedrun it with him tonight.

“I’m clean, I promise. I’m gonna feel so tight on you, Hao, please,” You put on the charm when you whisper in his ear. When he doesn’t respond immediately, you roll your hips down onto him. He tightens his arms around you with a loud moan that surprises you.

“You’re such a little shit,” He slips his hands underneath your shirt to unhook your bra, throwing it across the room. He squeezes your breasts, kneading them roughly. You let out a breathless moan, the feeling of him finally touching your skin feels more satisfying than you thought it would.

He watches you get undressed before forcing you back onto his lap.

You let him lower you down onto his cock and you both let out filthy moans at the sensation of being inside each other without any barriers. You can feel how sensitive he is inside you, every movement feels far more intense than all the other times you’ve fucked.

“Gonna let you cum first,” You sigh, slowly moving yourself on his cock. He lets out a bitter sounding laugh that you can’t tell if it’s a joke or not.

“So nice of you,” He scratches his nails down your back with a bit of a mean streak. It doesn’t take long before his moans are picking up again, and you think you’d like to return that mean energy of his.

You kiss down his neck, hips still moving rapidly. You pick a random visible spot to suck a mark on his neck, not taking the pain into consideration at all. He stutters out in agony, whining so loudly that it makes you smile against his skin.

“Fucking hell,” He sighs out loud enough for you to contemplate doing it again. You don’t have time to make a decision before he clutches your hips, you feel him clench around you and his cum fills you up quickly. You both still your movements and his mouth is fully agape, his chest heaving from how hard his orgasm hit.

“Don’t move,” He grits out, he’s still panting but he knows he has to act quickly. You know he’s slightly annoyed, but his fingers move to your clit, rubbing you so quickly that your brain can barely catch up.

You can already feel yourself clenching around his cock, he knows how to work you up so intensely that a proper orgasm can hit you out of nowhere.

“Please Hao, please let me,” Your words trail off and you can barely look at him, much less keep still around him.

“Let you do what? You need to tell me,” That teasingly sweet voice of his is anything but helpful at the moment. You’re nearly crying from the pressure on your core, his fingers just won’t stop moving and it makes it so hard not to disobey him.

“Fuck, please let me cum, I can’t hold it,” You’re panting, you think you can feel his cum seeping out of you onto the floor. You look down and it’s true, his cum ended up near your feet. It shouldn’t feel that satisfying, but it is, the overstimulation of fluids makes it hard to deny yourself any more pleasure.

“Then cum,” He makes it sound like it’s nothing, but his nonchalance works so easily on you. You let yourself cum almost immediately, clamping your hand over your mouth to restrain the wildly unpredictable moans coming out of you. The clenching feels so intense that you have to move, you have to do something to combat the pain radiating throughout your body.

After a few moments, he helps you get off of his lap and your legs are shaking, you’ve definitely sobered up a bit from all the action. He finally kisses you, letting his mouth linger on your lips for a few moments so you can savor him. “You did well, darling,” He kisses your cheek before getting up to start your joint aftercare routine.

You watch him with heavy eyelids, and the aftercare seems to happen without much effort on your part. He always dotes on you to a point where you stop trying to fight it, especially now when you’re not exactly drunk or sober to do anything at all.

You’re just lucky to eventually be put in bed with fresh pajamas on. He definitely had to coax you to take your medicine, but things went relatively easily.

It’s only when you’re both falling towards sleep that you feel the urge to hold a conversation again. “Sorry for not finishing you off,” you mumble. You hear him laugh under his breath.

“It’s okay, you’re really keeping me on my toes,” You feel him curl tighter into your side. You hum in response, and you let another minute go by.

“Are you scared things might not work out between us?” You ask suddenly. Your voice comes out much smaller than you wanted it to.

“Sometimes. The month went by pretty quickly,” His response makes you feel less alone in your anxiety. It felt like such a whirlwind romance that you didn’t have much time to enjoy the little intricacies of getting to know each other.

You learned about each other out of desperation, surprised that something fruitful came out of that need to look acceptable as a couple to others.

“I think so too. But whatever happens, it’s still worth it that I got to know you,” You offer, you wish you could see his face so that he saw just how much you meant it.

You didn’t want to picture the past month without him, you can’t imagine a reality where Minghao isn’t there by your side to take care of you.

“Do you think I’m worth all the effort? Do you regret meeting me?” His questions leave a pang of guilt in your heart. He’s usually quite self-sufficient with his worries, typically isolating for a while before coming back to silently ask for kisses and cuddles. Thus, you don’t get many chances to verbalize how much you like him when he’s feeling upset.

“You’re completely worth it, Hao. I don’t regret any of this. You’re so special to me,” You soothe his worries with such sweet words. He takes a moment to process them, until you hear a sniffle.

You grow concerned, so you turn on your lamp. A teary eyed Minghao looks at you with a slight pout. His eyes are slightly puffy and you try not to let any surprise cross your face.

“My baby,” You instinctively pull him into your chest like he’s done it for you so many times. His cries are so quiet, but you can still feel his body shake in your arms.

“You mean a lot to me. I hate hiding my feelings from you,” His tone is somewhat even, most of the emotion doesn’t spill through.

“Whenever you want to tell me anything, I’m here. I like hearing whatever is on your mind,” You leave soft touches on his shoulder. He’s always been quite practical and objective, letting you know exactly how he feels about things, so to see him with his guard down means he trusts you so deeply.

“Okay, I promise I will,” He pulls his face back from your hold to wipe his tears. He grabs your hands and holds them to his chest instead.

“Y/N?” He calls out to you again.

“Yes?”

“I don’t like sleeping without you,” He blinks at you with a small smile. His voice nearly breaks your heart from how cute he sounds.

“I don’t either, and I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Your response makes him close his eyes, nodding softly. You wipe the stray tears still left on his cheeks.

He takes the chance to leave a few pecks on your lips, but you know you need more.

You press your lips to his for a few moments and you can almost feel him melt into your touch. He lets out a quiet satisfied hum the moment you pull away from him.

You turn away to turn off the lamp and he’s already whining, pulling at your arm to stop your movements. “I’m right here, love,” You giggle into his chest, you quickly lie down again to face him in the darkness.

You fall asleep with a few more kisses pressed to your lips, your mutual affection seems to radiate off each other so easily.

You figure this feeling is enough to keep you happy for the rest of your life.

--

The next day, packing your own clothes for the wedding wasn’t hard, but getting Minghao to pack was a bit more difficult.

He insisted that he already put some clothes aside for his suitcase a few days ago, but you don’t notice anything when you enter his closet.

Instead, you’re drawn to his impressive array of clothing. You’re definitely overwhelmed by how cool his pieces are. You figure it’s a mix of clothes he’s made for himself, pieces he’s made for collections that he stole for his own closet, archival designer clothes, and a medley of thrifted clothes sprinkled in.

It was completely foreign to your own closet, it felt like its own little world that you could spend forever in.

When you retreat out of the closet, you notice Minghao is at his desk, hands and body completely still.

He has lots of sketches organized across his desk, but he seems to be staring at one in particular.

“Hao, are you ok, love?” You try. You place your hand on his shoulder and he still doesn’t move.

“My hands aren’t doing what I need them to do,” He hums, blinking at the papers before him.

“Let’s take a break, yeah?” You grab his hands and massage them gently. His eyes flutter shut and he takes a deep breath, slowly leaning into your touch.

“Yeah,” He opens his eyes and slowly stands up from his desk. The promotion is already giving him far more work than before. Despite his position not officially starting until after the wedding, you can sense it’s taking a toll on him already.

You know he’s told you about being a workaholic, but watching him work from home today has made that personality trait even more real in your brain. He gets so focused that it’s hard to break him out of that trance, especially when you try to make him take breaks.

You discover it’s best not to bother him since he has his own internal productivity clock, but you figured it had been a few hours too long since the last break.

You came over to his apartment with the intention of not doing much together anyways, but you didn’t expect him to work the entire time.

“How about we pick out clothes instead?” You suggest, rubbing your hands up and down his arms in a feeble effort to ground him.

“We’re only there for a few days, there’s not much for me to pick out,” He giggles to himself as he looks back at the closet.

Mingyu’s wedding had a formal dress code, but you and Minghao had decided to take an extra day to stay in the vicinity of the small beach town to relax before coming back into town to start the new phases of your professional lives.

“Well, show me these outfits you allegedly picked out, idiot,” You playfully shove him toward the closet and he puts his hands up in defense.

“Fine, fine,” He backs into the closet and turns his attention to the clothes slightly above his eyeline. He grabs a sleek black suit to prop up in his arms.

“Wedding outfit with a nice tie,” He looks at his picks before looking at you for feedback.

The suit was nice, muted enough so that your dress could be the real showstopper. Yet, his tie was still decorated with an intricate pattern that caught your attention.

“Very nice,” You nod and he nods as well before placing it back in the closet. He stays in the closet for a few moments before emerging again with a pastel blue set, a solid button up with matching linen shorts. It was the perfect lazy weekend beach attire.

“And my beach day outfit,” He looks up at you with a proud smile.

“That’s gonna look so pretty on you, especially that color,” You coo at him, your tone gets high at the possibility of seeing him in bright colors. He bites back a smile, but ultimately gives into the compliment with a smirk.

“Thank you,” His voice is a bit smaller now, you notice the tips of his ears are red, but you don’t point it out.

He goes to put the clothes back before your gaze can linger on him for too long, but it’s too late.

You’re already concocting more ways that you can catch him off guard with a compliment.

He pulls out a small black industrial type suitcase out onto the floor of the bedroom, and it suits him completely.

You decide to sit on his bed and watch him pack the suitcase carefully. You’re sure he’s done it countless times that it feels like second nature. You wonder what the inside of his passport looks like, what he’s like on an international flight, the first thing he does in a new country, so many questions about his travel habits plagued you.

His hands treat his clothes so delicately, you can only admire the way he folds his clothes, smoothing his palm across the top to rid any lingering wrinkles before placing them gingerly into the suitcase.

You watch him wander back and forth from the bathroom, casually collecting items to place into side pockets and pouches.

You think you’ve unlocked a new kind of domesticity with him, a silent one where you can adore him from afar without constantly needing to fill the silence. The way his eyes scan the case is enough to keep you captivated.

“Are you enjoying the show?” He brushes his hair back from his forehead, looking up at you suddenly.

“Definitely,” You smile at him with a particular fondness, he senses it with a closed mouth smile.

He closes the top of the suitcase, he’s definitely not done packing for sure, but it’s enough for now when he gets up and sits next to you on the bed.

“Are you nervous about the trip?” His hand finds the nape of your neck easily, slowly rubbing his fingers against your skin.

“Slightly,” You close your eyes for a moment before blinking back at him. He hums in understanding.

“Besides him being there, do you like weddings?” He continues his soft movements, but tries to engage with you further.

“I do,” You can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face, it’s hard to contain yourself.

“Tell me more,” He giggles at your sudden excitement, he shifts his weight to account for your now perky mood, now absentmindedly playing with your hands.

“Everything about them just makes me happy, I like seeing people in love,” Your tone of voice is so far up in the clouds that he can tell you’re daydreaming.

“Do you think you’ll ever be in love?” His question grounds your dreams instantly.

It shouldn’t unnerve you this much.

You want to tell him that you’re already in love with him, but the words are lodged in your throat so tightly that you can’t do much about it. You can only take a breath and hope he doesn’t notice how much that question affects you.

Yet, you know how he is. He notices something happening with you before you do.

“I’m sure I will,” You nod in affirmation in hopes that he leaves it alone, that he won’t press you any further about the topic.

He doesn’t ask you verbally, but his eyes search yours with a hope that you mean you’ll fall in love with him.

“I know you will. You’re perfect,” His words are laced with so much affection that it almost hurts to hear, so sickly sweet that your heart practically feels weighed down from the kindness of it.

It’s enough to pull him in for a kiss, to help him achieve that feeling in your chest. His lips slot into yours so naturally at this point, you don’t have to try too hard at it before he senses your needs.

He deepens the kiss ever so slightly, but it still leaves your heart fluttering. The tension recreates itself the moment he looks into your eyes. He leaves you breathless and you can feel the slight puffiness of your lips now that you’re away from his mouth.

No matter what he just did, you can’t make each other say what you truly mean.

It’s too much when you’re both packing for a trip where you’re meant to play up a lie that no longer feels like a lie. The relationship is so fragile that it has to keep unfolding in its own time, it’s not meant to handle a rushed confession.

You both deserve better than that.

“You think I’m perfect?” You finally respond to his statement. He sighs with a particularly sweet smile on his face.

“Absolutely,” He examines your face long enough for you to feel safe under his gaze. After a while, you watch him get up to finish organizing his suitcase and you’re not sure what makes you upset.

You wrestle with your feelings as he zips up his suitcase, pushing it to a corner in his room. He convinces you to get ready for bed with him, and it helps you push away the thoughts for now.

No matter what happens this weekend, he’ll be with you. You can only hope that’s enough for you to feel safe.

—

Road trips were a rare occasion for Minghao. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy them, but he never had a good reason to spontaneously travel or the time to take them very often.

Thus, the trip up to the wedding would be momentous. Minghao has read that the strength of relationships are tested when you travel with your partner, and it’s the first time he’s properly done it with anyone he’s dating.

He wants to do it right, so he hopes to make the weekend perfect, starting with getting off work early to mentally prepare himself for the journey.

He would be driving, not that he didn’t trust you, but he was slightly protective of his car. He would’ve insisted on driving you both regardless if you tried to fight him on it, not wanting you to overexert yourself a few days after such a big flare up.

He makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible in the passenger seat, confirming that you have snacks and your comfort items to keep you interested. He triple checks that you have your engagement ring on and you’re nearly cackling at him for being so worried. When he estimated the trip to be a few hours, he didn’t expect it to be 3.5 hours instead.

Yet, the hotel reservations were booked and there’s no viable way to fly to the small town, so he comes to terms with the parameters of the trip.

He’s grateful that you’re actively engaging him in conversation, he needs the mental stimulation to keep himself awake. He already let you pick the playlist to soundtrack the trip which kept you even more energetic.

“So when are we hypothetically getting married?” You ask without warning. “Just in case somebody asks, which I know they will,” He can tell your voice has that little self assured tone to it which makes him smile.

“This time next year, in the summer,” He takes a quick look at you before focusing on the road again.

“Ooh, a summer wedding would be pretty,” You affirm his thoughts. “Where would it be though?”

“Where would you like it to be?” He counters and it catches you off guard. He listens to you ponder your answer with a quiet hum before speaking up.

“I love the idea of it in a garden, like either outside in a garden or in those beautiful indoor greenhouse rooms with the garden outside of it,” The hypothetical details start to build a mental image that makes him excited.

“That sounds beautiful. So it sounds like it won’t be a destination wedding?”

“Absolutely not. It’s nice in theory, but logistically it might be hard for people to get there,” Your tone is resolute, making Minghao giggle as he clutches the steering wheel.

“You’re thinking of our future guests’ well-being already, you’re so sweet,” He coos at you with a pinch to your cheek, his gaze still focused on the road ahead. You were always thinking of other people, never yourself. Even if you wanted an international wedding, you should be able to put your foot down about what you want instead of centering others.

“It’s just a nice thing to do! Besides, there are plenty of nice gardens here,” You reply softly. He wonders if you’ve mentally picked out a venue yet, if you know the ins and outs of the best gardens around the country. He wants to know more, but he decides to keep moving.

“Ok, how many people would be coming to the wedding then?” He raises his eyebrows.

“No more than 300,” The reply comes almost immediately, “I don’t think I even know 100 people,” Your voice turns slightly concerned at the thought, but he’s quick to reassure you.

“That makes sense, bigger weddings kind of become more of a spectacle than focusing on the marriage itself. It’s weird,” He shakes his head at the idea of it. To him, weddings should feel somewhat intimate, and having over 1,000 people watch you get married makes him feel a bit unsettled.

“Exactly! We’re not celebrities, just people. Please keep the fashion industry invites to a minimum,” You joke and it makes him laugh.

“Trust me, most of them would not be coming,” He rolls his eyes and repositions his hands on the wheel. As much as he likes his work, it had to be separate from his personal life as much as possible now that you worked there too. There had to be some distance, even if this wedding wouldn’t be a problem in the immediate future.

“Sounds like you'd like to be involved in wedding planning then.”

“Yes, for sure. You shouldn’t have to do that alone, it’s my wedding too,” He whines lightly at the end of the sentence and now it’s your turn to fawn over him.

“Of course, love. I can’t imagine doing it alone,” You card your fingers through his hair and he sighs gently at your touch. This kind of daydreaming makes Minghao want to propose all over again just to give you that perfect garden wedding.

He can already picture you both on your not so hypothetical wedding day, it all aligns in his brain so perfectly that it feels too good to be true. He knows he’s jumping too far into the future, but he can’t help it when you give him so much to work with. He knows the timeline in between matters as well, everything about you matters to him.

The wedding banter goes on for a bit longer until you fall asleep. That makes up the bulk of the trip, him driving with your music playing softly in the background while you’re cuddled up against the window. He prefers driving in relative silence, it gives him the space to think about everything coming within the next day.

He honestly doesn’t know how you’ll fare when you see Joshua again, considering how difficult the entire situation has been for you. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he’ll act around Joshua either knowing just how much he’s hurt you. He can only hope you choose yourself and your own feelings first.

He knows you’re a heavy sleeper, but he discovers it even more now. When someone tries to cut him off on the highway, he’s forced to honk his horn but he looks over to discover you’re still dead asleep.

The slight dips in the road and any slight swerves he makes to avoid potholes don’t disturb you much at all besides the occasional stirring in your sleep.

He eventually stops about 2 and a half hours into the journey to get gas and stretch his legs, but he’s still in good spirits overall. Somehow, the stopped car doesn’t wake you up, something he uses to his advantage.

He grabs his phone to take photos of you, angling himself in as many different ways possible to capture you. He smiles to himself as he quickly scrolls through the photos to choose a new one for his lockscreen. He still hadn’t changed it, he felt like none of his pictures captured that unspeakable feeling you give him until now.

He thinks you’re absolutely adorable, your arms are tightly crossed across your chest with your hands hidden by your hoodie sleeves. At some point before you fell asleep, you pulled the strings tight enough that your head was almost swallowed up by the fabric, to him you looked like a little egg. It was definitely picture worthy in his mind, and he was lucky enough that he got the pictures before you woke up.

“Hao? Are we there yet?” You ask him sleepily, eyes blinking open slowly.

“Not yet, darling. We’ve got another hour or so,” He rubs your thigh gently. You only nod and settle back into a comfortable position, facing your body away from Minghao towards the window.

He realizes something as he starts the car again, pulling back onto the roads to finish the last leg of the drive.

It sets in more as the sun sets on the horizon, even further when he parks the car and takes a deep breath to himself. He helps you wake up completely so you can both get your luggage out of the car. The check in process goes easily, but it’s not until you’re both in the elevator that it hits him.

He loves you.

He loves the way you always lean into his touch, how you give him the space to be himself, the subtle ways you look after him that he can’t always verbalize.

He loves that despite everything, you still love so fiercely.

He grew into his love for you, the pieces of it came together without him even realizing it. He didn’t want to admit it when Soonyoung and Chan kept telling him how head over heels he was for you, especially when he found a way to come over to your apartment almost every day just so he could see you.

He didn’t want to admit how many times he restarted the sketching process for the dress, how he held a meticulous eye over his sewing machine so that every stitch held a bit of his love for you. He wanted to make sure that all of the extra time he spent on small details would show even a fraction of his adoration for you.

He loves you and he wonders if he’ll be able to say it out loud before you go back home.

[beggingwolf]

sidgeno: soulmate AU + erotic dreams

Sid's standing at a river.

He thinks it's a river. It feels half-formed. He can feel the rumble of the water under his feet. If he doesn't move, the flash flood is going to swell to his soles, ankles, knees, and sweep him away.

"Beautiful," he hears. It doesn't sound right. The word twists in his ears, and a large hand wraps around his elbow, pulling him a step back up onto the bank. "Careful."

Sid wakes up with a gasp. Across the room, the little blue S on his wall has fallen to the floor with a crack. It's his last night at home before he ships out to Minnesota. He'd heard his mom crying after Taylor had gone to bed.

Sid reaches up to touch his elbow. He can still feel the ghostly touch, heavy and strong.

Sid stays up for another hour, thinking it over. Replaying the sound of beautiful over and over again, even though that's not how it sounded in the dream.

He closes his eyes. He tries to say goodbye to home. He tries to push off the dream; he doesn't have the time to think about it, not now, not when—

-

"Beautiful," Sid hears. He lets out a shuddering breath. The hands are everywhere. There's a heavy weight between his legs. There's pressure on his stomach, on his chest. A mouth pressing to his neck. He needs to move. He needs to be touched, he—

The pillow hits his face hard.

"Take it to the showers, Croz!" Duncs groans, his bedsprings creaking as he rolls to turn his back on Sid from across the room.

Sid's face grows hot as he fumbles at his blankets. He slips out of bed, feet hitting the linoleum floor with a loud smack, and he grabs the first article of clothing on the ground—a hoodie, fine, that's fine—before making a break for the hall.

The light of the hallway is blinding, and Sid stumbles to the bathrooms to lock himself in a shower stall and breathe.

His boxers are wet.

Sid shudders on his next inhale. It's been... it's been so long since this has happened, but not like this, never with that voice in his ears or the feeling of a body that's bigger than his covering him so completely.

Sid's been looking at his teammates too much lately. He's been thinking about how tall Matty is, how he's got a wicked smile and a stupid laugh that rivals Sid's own.

"Fuck," Sid whispers to himself. It echoes off the yellowing tile.

-

Soulmates, Sid learned early, don't account for everything.

His mother told him that she'd had dreams of the Eastern Shore back at the height of the whaling trade. She'd remembered the scent of blubber burning, how his father's clothes would stink of blood and salt after he'd return from a voyage.

She had older ones, too. Ones of living in a cramped house in an old country with too many mouths to feed, spending her days working in a horrible factory and sneaking away to find a sweetheart in a back alley.

Older than that, even: one of his aunts liked to claim she could remember as far back to before electricity was discovered. His mom fondly told her sister she was full of shit, but Sid always wondered.

Then there was his grandmother, who never talked about soulmates at all. She was happy with Kenny, but Sidney knew Kenny was not his grandfather by blood. His grandmother was tight-lipped about it, even when the family was swapping dream-memories with each other like cards over the dinner table.

"Soulmates can mean a lot of things," Sid's uncle had told him out on the patio later. "Sometimes they're just the person that leaves the most scars on you."

Years later, as Sid tries to keep his eyes to himself in the locker room, he finally understands how his love could leave him with more scars than he could count.

-

It's a gentle touch to his hair. Long fingers playing in the curls. They're too long. They're always too long, it's not presentable, it's not to code, but war is cruel and bloody and Sid's fucking hair is the least of his concerns.

"Morning, beautiful," a low voice rasps to him. The words are tilted like they always are, but Sid understands. He always understands.

He turns, eyes still closed, and reaches out.

Lips connect with his. There's a dusting of pathetic stubble on both of their faces. The dry, cracked lips he's kissing are still the best thing he's ever felt.

"My watch shift's almost over," Sid whispers. His throat is hoarse, because last night he'd—god, he'd taken the whole length down, and it had felt good and powerful and if he died today he'd be okay with it, he thinks. The war has taken so much. At least he had this. "I need to go back."

"Stay," is murmured up against his mouth. The lips move up to press against his forehead, and the hand in his hair tangles in it, pulls him closer, drags him against a strong body, long legs tangling with his own.

He can feel a hardness pressing into his thigh, and he cracks open his eyes.

His head smacks against glass.

"Shit!" Sid snaps, jerking upright as the bus rolls over another curb.

"Sorry, fellas!" the driver calls, and there's an ugly chorus of groans from the Rimouski Oceanic.

"Jesus," Sid grunts, shifting back upright in his seat, yanking his backpack onto his lap. His skull is still rattling from the rude awakening, and he's achingly hard.

It's a small mercy he has the row to himself. He leans back and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his head, and his hip where that stupid fucking Moosehead had laid into him, and his tweaked wrist from two weeks ago in Chicoutimi. The street lamps they drive under flare his eyelids pink and then black, again and again.

As he slows his breaths, the urgency fades out of his bloodstream. He's not hard up for it anymore. He's just sore.

More than the feeling of a heavy cock pressed against his leg, Sid misses the gangly arms that had been wrapped around him. He'd had to make out with a girl at a house party before they'd left for Halifax. The team had gotten too nosy, their teasing of Sid's prudishness tipping from "hilarious novelty" to "prying questions," and Sid had swallowed his anxiety and used it as fuel to find a girl and pull her into a corner in full view of half of the blue line and press his lips to hers.

It had felt deeply wrong.

He tries to keep his breaths even as he thinks about how right his dream had felt, and how that deep, sleep-weary voice sits in his skull like it belongs there.

-

Sid pulls his goalie pads off. His eye is swollen shut from the puck he took to the face in the second period; it happens once every few months, and it's incentive to be faster. He laughs as the team around him starts cracking open beers. Their captain lights a cigarette and leans back in his stall with a grin. They're on fucking fire, and they're going out on the town tonight.

Sid comes back home drunk. Drunk and happy and dumped unceremoniously on the steps of his Montreal townhome by his teammates, who cheerfully wave at Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate picks Sid up. Sid's roommate peels off his clothes slowly. Sid's roommate leads him to bed, where he tucks himself into the cave he makes out of Sid's chest.

Sid's roommate, who grinds back against Sid. Sid groans. He can't get it up, not like this, and his roommate laughs, a low noise, and tells him in the morning—in the morning they'll have some fun, he'll reward Sid exactly how he deserves.

Sid wakes up alone.

They've lost the Memorial Cup. He's still in London. He's not playing for the Habs in their glory days. He's not playing for anyone right now. The season is over. Tomorrow he gets to go home. He gets to hope the draft goes on.

He feels very small and lonely in his hotel bed.

-

The night before the draft, Sid dreams about getting fucked.

He's goddamn lucky Jack sleeps harder than the dead. He's goddamn lucky in so many ways, because he feels those big hands push his legs up, his thighs pressing into his stomach. He feels those chapped lips drag against his neck, his chest, his cock. He feels those long hands stretching him open.

He takes every inch. He gets fucked within an inch of his life. He's held down by that powerful body and he's never wanted something this bad, because it's good and right and he wants it more than anything. He's had it before, in another time, and Sid tells himself he'll find it again someday, he has to.

He comes so hard he cries.

Jack's still asleep when Sid wakes up and ducks into the bathroom. He lets the shower rain scalding water down onto him as he wipes the cum off of his hips.

-

Sid plays hockey in Pittsburgh.

He kisses a man for the first time. It's not his soulmate. He can tell; the man's fingers are too stubby, but he has wide shoulders and a smart smile and it feels good.

It leads to him getting his dick sucked. That's good too.

The dreams don't stop. He's in rural Canada. He's in some ancient country that looks foreign. He's in a busy city center that looks nothing like anywhere Sid has ever been.

He's always wrapped in those long arms, holding those delicate-looking, strong hands.

It's his second season, the morning after another dream—a bad one, where Sid had been old and arthritic and holding a cold hand in his—when Mario looks up from the morning newspaper and tells Sid Malkin will finally be getting in from Los Angeles that evening.

"It's been long enough, he should be out of his contract by the time camp starts," Mario says. "We'll have him over for dinner tonight, I think."

Sid doesn't dress up, but he does put on jeans and combs his hair in the bathroom before Malkin and his translator arrive. He should look presentable, he figures. They want to make him captain. He should make a good impression, especially after all that Malkin's been through.

The doorbell rings, and Sid hustles down the three flights of stairs to get to the foyer.

Malkin's big. Lanky, really, and golden from the California sun. He looks tired but happy, and he's staring at Mario with big eyes and a bigger grin, his chapped lips stretched wide. Sid knows the feeling well.

Malkin turns his gaze to Sid, and something wobbles in Sid's chest.

"Evgeni Malkin," he says, offering a handshake to Sid.

His palm is huge. His fingers are long and handsome.

Sid swallows and takes his hand.

[into-crazy]

horror and chill

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: You and J watch a horror flick. Eventually you both grow bored, turning your attention onto one another. You don't make it through the movie.

Warnings- Cursing, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, light knife play, spanking, use of the word daddy(once), unprotected sex, brief degradation, choking, light blood play, J style fluff, ages 18+

This sort of popped into my head while I was watching a scary movie. I'm a sucker for watching horror movies in the dark. Let's just say my self indulgences deff kicked in with this one whew! Also forewarning, it’s very long.

The month of October has always been a favorite for you. That time of the year when Autumn is in full effect. The air outside is cooled down, where it's not too hot and not quite cold yet. Seasonal items return with a comeback, available to stock up on- whether they be edible goodies or scented candles. Then, of course, there's Halloween. Or spooky season, as the kids like to call it.

That special time where watching horror movies is an absolute must. Ordering takeout, nothing on but panties and an oversized tee, cuddling on the couch with a blanket, turning out all of the lights, and blasting the volume on the television to get the full effect. Yeah, it's one of your most prized traditions.

You and Joker have been together for well over year now. Let's just say he was around this time last year. He knew of your passion for this month, but he hasn't fully experienced it with you. Since that was a point where your relationship- if that's what you want to call it- was still fresh. Too early to establish complete trust and understanding in one another. Actually, you believe that still may be the case for J.

Not that you have anything against it. He's a highly complex and guarded man, he has a difficult time trusting people. In fact, he doesn't. But he's allowed you- and no one else- to come this close into his life, and it's pretty damn close. He trusts you enough and he's trying. There's nothing you'd ever do to betray that. You've come to accept it'll take a longer period before you'd get there fully.

Though it can be rough sometimes, you've had your fair share of fights. But he's never given you a reason to leave. You trust him, you've grown to love him. And while J would never confess to it, would never say it aloud, he adores you. He shows it in everything that he does for you. As for love, you've become aware and accepted that the word doesn't apply to him. He can't love. And that's okay.

Fast forward over to now, already a week into October. It's a Saturday night, and you're ready to continue your cherished routine, but with your beloved J. You've only watched two horror flicks thus far. Both nights had been alone, minus him and the takeout. He's been busy with his usual chaotic jobs, which kept him out later hours into the night. However you don't care about that right now, he called and informed you that he'll be home for tonight's showing.

"An' don't ah, don't ya dare start without me." J warned on the other end of the phone line.

"Well then you better hurry back," you playfully teased into the phone, "I already ordered the pizza and the movie is set to play."

That conversation ended about forty minutes ago. You sat on the couch in your shared apartment, waiting for him. Everything good to go, pizza has arrived, scented candles are lit, movie ready to proceed at the click of a button, and the lights are off- save for the small lamp by the entryway. The overall setting feeling eerily, just how you like it. It also feels quite romantic, which is a bonus.

You're wearing one of J's dress shirts with a blush thong underneath. Wrapped snug in a huge fluffy blanket in your designated spot(rightfully decided by you as this was your apartment first). Since he prefers to keep the apartment cold, you tend to get chilly a lot. Which was fine considering you have J and a vast selection of blankets to keep you warm. Currently, you have the blanket. All that's missing is J.

What's taking him so long? I'm gonna start the movie, I don't care. He'll just have to deal with it.. and I'm not rewinding it either.

You began to ponder while sitting in silence. Fingers tapping impatiently on the remote, debating whether or not you should carry on without him. With a loud huff, you glance over at the pizza box on the small table directly in front of you. In the amount of time you've waited, you managed to eat two slices already.

Then, you heard the familiar ruffling noise at the front door. The sound of the lock hurriedly being turned getting you to shoot your eyes towards it without moving your head. The door swings open and in walks J in all his glory, quickly shutting and locking the closure behind him.

"I'm home-ah!" A lilt in his voice as he exaggerates his arrival.

"You're late," you return displeasingly.

He narrows his glare at you, "well uh, hello to you too."

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fingers, "I was this close to starting the movie without you. What took you so long?"

J works on shrugging off his plum trench coat. "What can I say? It was such a ah, easy breeze to get here." He throws sarcastically.

Shaking your head, you laugh, "I'm sorry J, I didn't mean to sound rude. I just missed you is all." You really do appreciate the extra efforts he goes through to make sure he gets here safe and undetected. To not be traced or followed. Be it by his fellow rivals, Gotham police, and in some cases- the Batman.

"Yeah doll, I know," he licks his lips, "I know." You watch him remove a few of his other articles to get more comfortable. His face paint isn't too disheveled which tells you his day went rather smoothly. Or as he prefers to call it- boring.

You open up the blanket to make space for him. Patting the empty spot right next to you, "hurry and get over here, pizza's getting cold."

Left in his purple slacks, dress shirt, and socks, he shuts off the last light before making his way over to plop onto the couch next to you. He allows you to snuggle against him. With the cover behind him, he doesn't feel the need to wrap himself in it. You, on the other hand, have your end burrito wrapped over you. Finally, you stick your hand out the blanket to hit play on the remote.

Twenty minutes in, you were beginning to grow less and less interested in the film. Nothing but a predictable storyline with a bunch of weak jump scares. Not to mention the overly cheesy acting. Though it wasn't completely terrible, it had a few good points to it. However this film probably won't make it onto your rewatch list. You failed to previously read the reviews for this one like you normally would when picking a new movie to watch. The plot sounded good when you had read it. Oh well, you gave it a shot.

J wasn't fond of the movie either. He's actually more bored of it than you are. Occasionally would he exhale blatantly or comment on one of the bad moments that came across. This. Is. Torture. He thought to himself staring blankly at the screen. And not the good kind. Alas, he'll bite his tongue and miserably sit through another hour because it is your movie night, and he knows how much this means to you.

You can't help but feel bad for having him sit through this with you- for you. Soon, you lost total interest in the film and your mind began to drift.. elsewhere. To his hand, resting freely between your soft thighs. His palm feels so warm against your flesh. But that's just J- always giving off heat. He's like your own personal heater. Sometimes warming you to the point you don't even need a blanket because it becomes too hot. Speaking of which, you removed the cover, preferring his signature warmth over the fabric's any day.

Your fingers start to brush lightly on his wrists and knuckles. The subtle touch earns you half smile followed with a pleased hum, which you see in your peripheral vision. He hasn't caught on yet, but your need for him is building fast.

You scooch closer to him in attempt to get his hand where you need it most without him catching on just yet. It didn't work, his hand isn't touching you. It's right there, mere millimeters away. Thinking about how amazing his hands feel when he touches you. When he grants you with friction as he rubs your throbbing clit. The wonderful spots he reaches when he relentlessly fucks you with those paint speckled fingers. Curling them deep, making you writhe and cry beneath him.

Clamping his wrist, your breath hitches at the thought. Shit. That was audible. For a split second, you thought you might have blown it. But Joker took it as something from the film frightening you.

"Quiet doll," he shushes, "you an' I both know the ah, movie ain't scary."

Fuck, you can't take it anymore. You want him to touch you. With a slight roll of your hips, you manage to get his hand to brush against your clothed heat. The smallest bit of friction causes you to release a muffled whimper.

J's arm stiffens and his face instantly snaps to look at you. You seize, halting your movement. No question, he felt what you did, sees the burning desperation in your eyes. Tossing his head back, he erupts in a delighted, high pitched cackle. "Oh-" more cackling laughter as he glances at you again, "so that's what that was." A malicious smirk spreads his scarred cheeks. He firmly grips the inside of your thigh, pulling you against him. "What happened bunny? Growin' needy?" Cupping your clothed mound, his fingers rub you teasingly.

"Yeah," you admit, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Tightening your thighs around his wrist. Would've been no use lying to him when he'd easily seen and felt otherwise.

His rubbing comes to an abrupt stop. He taunts, "Ahh, this was your idea, hm. You were the one keen on a movie night, remember?"

"I know, but-"

"Ah-ta-ta," He cuts you off, "But nothing. This is what ya wanted, so that's what we'll do. We'll ah, sit here and watch."

Suddenly, he lifts you, effortlessly moving you into his lap. You yelp as your back is pressed flush against his torso. He separates your legs apart, you can feel his cock beginning to harden under you, pushing into the plush of your ass. One hand wraps around your chest, to roughly knead your breasts. The other slides under the shirt, gliding over your abdomen, down between your legs. To rub harsh circles on your excited clit through the thinly soaked fabric of your underwear.

"Ahh- fuck!" You whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder, reaching around to grip his green locks.

J starts to kiss and nip his way down your neck. Leaving dark patches into your skin, accompanied by red and white splotches- completely marking you. Once he was satisfied with his marks, he leans closely by your ear. "You're dripping, doll," he whispers huskily, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Now, you will sit here and watch the flick like a good girl, while I play with this needy little cunt of yours. No fussin' or fightin'. Got it?"

"Mhm, yes sir," you answer. Biting back the urge to smile at the thought of finally getting what you want. Fighting it off because, let's be real here, you know with J, it never comes along that easy. But he always makes it damn well worth it.

"Good, now sit still." He growls lowly onto your neck. With that, he pushed your panties to the side and began his torture. His fingers transitioning from fucking your aching hole to rubbing the drenched digits on your throbbing clit. Whispering twistingly sweet and dirty words into your ear while he slathers your own arousal all over your pussy.

He'd bring you close, on the verge of your orgasm, only to stop his movements entirely. Tearing it away from you before you could fall over that edge into pure ecstasy. You grew more and more frustrated each time he'd do that. Though you haven't fully, but you're rapidly losing your composure. Which already may be broken. Sweat is forming on your hairline, tears are prickling your eyes, your breath is starting to hitch. Starting to want it so bad you're teetering towards retaliating to get what you crave.

Joker's counting on it. He thrives on edging you, demands the control over you. As much as he prefers having you entirely at his mercy, he likes it when you lash back. Finds it rather amusing, makes for something a little bit more interesting. See how far you'll go before you snap so beautifully.

And that's now.

You start to buck your hips against his fingers that are going in and out of your pussy, along with his thumb assaulting your clit. Feeling that powerful knot reforming, you need to orgasm. "Oh f-fuck! Please!" You start pleading, "I-I can't take it anymore. Please J, l-let me cum!"

"You wanna cum?" He hints, removing his chin from your neck.

"Yes, God- yes please!" You cry out, clawing your nails into his thighs. Clamping down to gain better leverage. The wild rolling of your hips gets your ass brushing more against his hardened cock. Your arousal had already soaked through his pants a long time ago.

"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth, digging his fingers hard into your hip that's sure to leave an array of dotted bruises. He bucks absently into you, licking a wet, hot trail up your neck. "Mm, dirty girl. So you wanna play that game-ah?"

He moves his fingers faster and harder. Even over the loud volume from the television could the wet squelching sounds deriving from his ministrations be heard. The air filled with the scent of sex- your sex. So desperate and ready to let go and orgasm. It's driving you crazy.

"P-please- Ahh! Can I cum?" You plead. Hoping he'll reward you at least for asking.

"You can cum. Go on, babygirl. Cum on my fingers." He finally grants, fingers continuing to get you to ecstasy.

Well you didn't have to be told twice.

You release with a broken cry, orgasm gushing out onto his digits. Drenching the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your body spasming madly over his own while you ride out your high.

Coming down, J removed his hand from your pussy. His fingers are glistening, coated in your cum. He sticks them into your mouth. "Clean my fingers of the mess you made," he growls the command in your ear. Groaning in approval when you comply. Eagerly licking and sucking his digits clean of your juices. "Come here," he grabs your face, turning your head, making you look at him. "Give me a taste."

He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of your delectable juices. You kiss him back feverishly. One hand fisting in his hair, the other goes to stroke his cock. Still clothed, still hard. The action causing him to snarl against your lips, "such a greedy little thing. Always ah, wanting more. Ya just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Never," you huff with a grin, "and telling by this-" you rub him again, "neither could you." His eyes snap to glare into yours viciously. Ohh, he's gonna make you pay for that snarky remark.

With hasty movements, J turns you around so that you're now facing him. Straddling his lap. He tears the shirt that adorned your body open, buttons flying to scatter the couch and floor. Someone's gonna have to sew those back on later, most likely you. He removes the shirt from you, carelessly tossing it aside.

With the large article gone, it granted him with a better view of the mess you made on his custom, pricey slacks. His entire crotch and thigh area is completely drenched in your juices. He gave a sigh which tried to make him sound annoyed or displeased. However, with the straining bulge pushing against you below, you know that was far from the case. His eyes traveled to land on your barley covered pussy, he groaned at the sight. The flimsy fabric of your thong sticking to one of your wonderful, wet lips. Your orgasm, still dribbling out your cunt.

He hooked a finger under the thin strap hugging your hip, pulling far enough only to have it fall and snap against you. Chuckling at your slightly startled reaction. "Bad girl. Misbehaving, talking back, making a mess of my pants? These aren't exactly 'buy at the store' ready. Maybe I should put your dirty mouth to use and have you suck your own juices up, hm?"

"I misbehaved?" You mock a pout, fully knowing what you did. Regardless, asking anyway.

His kneads the plush of your ass roughly. The callousness of his hands making you shiver in his grasp. You may think this position is in your favor, that you could use it to your advantage. But Joker's got you right where he wants you. The stern look in his blackened eyes and the firm hold he's got on you make that known. "You ah- were supposed to make it through the film without so much as a fuss. Remember that?"

"I was?" Your fingers ghost up his chest, "I don't remember that part." Now you're pushing it. He notices the smile threatening to creep your face. One of his hands shoots up to grasp a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your marked neck.

"Yes," he acknowledges slowly trailing his lips up your throat, "yes you do. You just chose to be a brat and not listen." His tone is dangerous, and it would've been absolutely frightening had you been anyone else instead of the only person he cares about in his life. Even though he'd never verbally admit that, frustrating as it is for him, he does care. He does. Which is why whenever you feel that tingle dubbed as fear creep up your spine, you still hold assurance. The flesh of his scars brush the underside of your chin, making you moan unabashedly. "Ya know I gotta punish you for that."

J uses his hold on your hair and hip to guide you to lay over his lap, your naked stomach pressed against his wet thighs, and most of all, his erection. He reaches over to the small table beside the couch, plucking an item you assume to be one of his signature knives. The distinct clicking sound indicates you were correct. It's a switchblade.

He drags the razor sharp blade along your spine until it reaches your underwear, almost on the verge of slicing into you. The thrill gets your heart pounding faster in your chest and ears. You love it when he cuts you, and he's aware of that. But this is a punishment, so you won't be getting what you want.. least not yet. Placing it under the strap, he tears the article to shreds, carelessly nicking you a few times in the process. Alright, so the little nicks he can't control. Those just come naturally. Tossing the ruined fabric aside, he palms your ass cheeks, favoring a spot to start spanking. "Count. We'll ah, stop when I decide you've had enough."

His palm came down hard against your ass, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body causing you to yelp. "One!" You count. The stinging grew worse with each spank. He hit you hard, but it wasn't anything you couldn't bare. Warm tears steamed down your reddened cheeks. It hurt in a wonderful way, your pussy leaking more arousal as it progressed. He continued to spank you until he grew bored of hearing the same cries and whines.

"Last one bunny," he subtly praised, soothing over the bright marks in your flesh that are starting to welt and bruise. With that, his hand came down a final time. This one stinging the worst.

"Fif- fifteen." You manage to rasp, mind overcome with the lust you had building up. At this point you need him inside you. You need his cock buried deep in your aching core and you need him now. "Please f-fuck me J. I need you!" Your body arched into his as you begged.

J snickered, "need me huh? How bad?" His hand went back to your abused ass to shove you forward, so that your pelvis was atop his as he purposely rolled his erection against your painfully heated sex. The friction drawing a long, strained moan from your lips which pleased him. "Tell me bunny. How, how bad do ya need my cock?"

"Bad- oh so fucking bad- I need your cock! P-Please J, please daddy, fuck me!" You practically shout, resorting to the word daddy. A word which you hardly use, but do when need be. And now was a time of great need.

A snarl left his lips as he yanks you off briefly to undo his pants and shove them down. His cock finally free from the uncomfortable confines, he sighs with relief as he takes it into his hand, pumping a few times. The tip, red and angry with his precum beading out. "Get over here now," he growls impatiently.

Wasting no time, you swing your leg over both of his, reclaiming your previous place of straddling him. You grabbed-rather pawed- his shoulders for leverage. His thick head lines up with your dripping entrance, then he pulls you down, driving his length inside with a powerful thrust. Knocking the wind from you as he filled you. Fuck, how he stretched you so good.

After a brief second for you both to adjust- you to his size and him to recompose himself- he instructs you to- "Move."

To which you do. Rapidly bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. Unashamed at the loud moans and whimpers continuously leaving your lips. This was exactly what you needed, and having been denied lots tonight it felt amazing to finally have this. You moved like your life depended on it.

J grunted as he met your thrusts with his languid ones, his hands guiding the movement of your hips. He held back from pounding into you, oh how he's going to pound into you, just not yet. Which means he's definitely in the mood to tease you to an extent, in any and every way that he can. What an asshole.. Your asshole.

Your arms went to wrap around him. To your surprise, he didn't shove them off. Instead, his chin went to rest in the crook of your neck, catching glimpse of the illuminated TV screen. The movie was still on.

"Mhm, you're just a horny little slut, aren't ya?" He sneered. "Can't even get through a movie without having my cock inside of ya."

There was no way you could give him a proper response. So wrapped were you in the exhilarating feeling of him that any words to a sentence you tried to form wouldn't come out. What did manage to slip out was muddled babbling. He snickered at your incoherence.

The female protagonist on the screen started to scream. The shrieking noise caught both your attention, though your actions didn't falter. "This woman's a terrible actor," J criticized the lady, "her scream is so fake, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes- ah," you return finding your voice, "It s-sure is."

He removed one hand from your hip, gliding it up the valley between your breasts to grip your neck. Glaring menacingly into your eyes momentarily before muttering, "I think you could give me a better one." You knew from his low tone that something malicious just popped into his head. His fingers tightened, "Let's see if you could scream louder than the girl on the screen. Can ya do that for me sweets?"

You nodded feverishly within his hold, "yes J."

Satisfied with the answer, he began driving his cock vigorously up into you. The harsh slapping of skin heard as his hips pound mercilessly against your own. The spontaneous change of pace left you almost completely breathless. Your orgasm was fast approaching. Eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you relentlessly. You screamed, "Oh fuck!"

Your beautiful screams rang harmoniously in his ears like a favored tune. That he could play on repeat over and over and never grow tired of hearing. Your screams and moans are definitely his favorite sounds, aside from explosions and gunfire. He can't help but want more. Crave more.

"Come on doll, get louder," he teases, "I know ya could do better than that." He went to tug your head to the side, exposing the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sinking his yellowed teeth in, biting down hard to draw blood. That was just the push you needed. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench tightly around his length, releasing a shattering scream as you cum violently around his cock.

J lapped the fresh blood from where he bit you. "Hm, that's it," he groaned, "now that's a real scream." He kept going, his pace never letting up. In fact, soon as your hands went to tug at his hair did his thrusts speed up.

You yank his head from your neck to look into his intoxicating eyes, moving to glance towards your blood on his lips. Crashing them with yours to taste that savory metallic flavor for yourself. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down harshly, earning a rumbling groan from him.

He's getting closer and closer to his own peak as you're nearing another. When you feel his thumb move to rub rigorous circles on your sensitive clit, you release his lip with a sharp cry. "J!"

Your walls clamping painfully tight around his throbbing dick, vision blurring as you cum. Nails digging into his broad chest, probably creating tiny bruises under the shirt.

He relishes in the pinch of pain you give him. Combined together with your sinful noises, the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, and the feeling of your tight warm walls. With that, he buries himself in you and cums hard. A moan mixed with a groan like noise slipping from his lips while he shoots his hot load into your cervix. So much, that some leaks out while you milk him of every last drop.

J collects his breath before lifting your weight up to slip out of you. Your pussy lips are so swollen that his cum isn't even able to drip down once he's out. He sets you onto the couch beside him, getting up to go into the restroom to clean himself and grab a damp rag to bring back to you.

As you regain yourself, you manage to sit a little more up on the couch. Wincing, trying not to sit up all the way due to the soreness already starting to form between your legs. You wrap the blanket around your naked form and silently contemplate. The sex was amazing sure, but you still felt bad for ruining movie night with a terrible movie.

The sound of J coming back in hadn't even registered with you until he waved his hand in your view, tearing you from your thoughts. You blink quickly, offering him a smile to hide it. But J had already seen the small frown when he walked back. And he wanted to know the reason behind it, since it was out of the ordinary. Usually you're always smiling in your post orgasmic state.

"What's carving a frown in ya, pumpkin?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone as he hands you the small towel. The strange nickname causes you to giggle and he eases knowing you're alright.

"It's nothing J," you say shyly, "I'm just.. I'm sorry the movie sucked. I promise I'll pick a better one next time."

He hums, saying nothing else as he sits back down beside you. Draping his arm behind the couch behind you. Blankly watching the last of the movies end credits while you clean yourself with the rag.

You start to laugh again, "Well, now I really wanna carve a pumpkin. This place could use a couple. How about tomorrow I get some for us to carve?"

He grins sinisterly, "ya know, I'm usually carving into people."

"Pumpkins are less messy. Like, way less." You playfully respond.

"I like messy," he huffs.

"Yeah I know you do." You smile knowingly at him, lightly tracing the hexagonal patterns on his shirt. "I thought it would be fun. You don't have to if you don't want to."

J licks his scars as he ponders on it. Any activity having to do with a carving into something with a knife, count him in. "Ah, what the hell. Alright. What better way then to uh, help me spruce up on my slicing skills." He traces his hand out in front of him, as if he were carving a smile into something. This action causes you to release a genuine laugh. And in that moment, J relishes in hearing yet another one of his favorite sounds~

Woah, so that's the end! I hope you guys liked it. Again, sorry that it was so long. I can't help but make these super lengthy when it comes to smut😭

[pepperpills]

The Harvest - RE8 fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Notes: It is a headcanon of Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader. I will be uploading chapters' parts everyday and a new chapter will be out every tuesday. English is not my mother tongue, so sorry if there are any grammar mistakes. Please, feel free to enjoy hehe

NSFW content.

Part I – Destiny (1)

It had been a week since the encounter with the creature in the woods surrounding Karl Heisenberg’s lot. It wasn’t the weirdest event you have seen though, of course; you grew up in one of the cabins close to the Village, you, and your people, were way familiar to the rusty metal sounds, the night fogs and the guttural growls living in the forest around the houses. Because of that, one day, when they grew nearer, your people knew the time had come and you too would be absorbed by the Village, being lead – not to say forced – to worship Mother Miranda and her children.

At first, it was odd, the mood was mournful as if your own family had lost the brightness of joy in their irises. Everything there felt uncanny as there was a sweet and mistrusting mist in the air.

You have always known about Miranda and the four lords, but had never laid your own eyes on them. Until your 20s, they have been nothing but whispers in the distance, folk stories to scare the youngsters, so they wouldn’t go too deep in between the trees and their twisted thin branches.

As the months and then the years passed by, your people started making that place feel like home. Luiza, Urias and their own have been very kind and supportive to all of you, they’ve shown you their believes, their rituals and their daily life; in return, the cabin folk shared their knowledge on herbs, flowers and wild animals, which meant hunting instead of raising them. It worked out fine, anyway, you knew you couldn’t stay in the cabins forever, there would be a time when the Village would grow and it did.

To this extent, you felt comfortable, you actually started sharing a feeling of belongness, especially when it came to rituals and festivals. It was astonishing how the Village would gather, sing, dance, bake and eat on special dates – mostly agricultural calendar ones – and helping organizing it, putting up the decorations, the horns distributed in clothes-line, the red fabrics waving as flags on the ceilings, all of these things were very reassuring.

Years passed by and transformed you into a woman, you had your periods every month, the etiquette practices and the daily choirs such as baking and feeding the animals (now you had pigs and chicken to look after). This, however, bothered you, not the baking though, that made you happy, but you would much more appreciate to help your father and brother with the machinery and hunt with the men, which you did, only hidden, for sport maybe, until you improved your stealth and archery abilities so it became a part of you that you liked much more than singing by the lake while doing laundry with the wives, even though that too had its appeal – music always got the best of you, particularly when it came along with dancing.

About the hunt, you would sell it to Duke, the impartial merchant that comes every week. He is the best way to maintain a low-profile about your illegalities, once he also deals with prohibited materials.

Thinking of it, you believe it was fine, definitely bucolic, but you never expected more. And for your mitigation, you had never yet seen all of the lords face-to-face. Miranda came by at least once a month, but mostly spent her precious time with the Village leader. She usually went back to her lot afterwards. The others were… Well, different.

Lady Beneviento was an in-doors person, the only one who had constant contact with her was her groundskeeper who lived closer to her house. Lady Dimitrescu was only seen in her castles’ windows looking way distant and melancholic to anyone that far from her stand. Her daughters too never left the upright protective stone walls, no one knew why, neither bothered to find out. Sometimes girls from the Village would be sent to the castle in order to serve them as handmaiden, some of them came back on special dates, but never spent the night in the Village.

Lord Moreau was the only one who visited more frequently, usually fixing demands for his experiments. He never stayed too long, he probably sensed that the people had less interest on him than they had in the other lords, which kind of made you pity Lord Moreau; however, you never had the courage to speak to him anyway and it didn’t feel very possible to be friends with the lords.

The last one, Lord Heisenberg, you had only heard in the distance when exploring the Altar surroundings, hidden from the others once it wasn’t allowed to be there without a good motive. The villagers told you, sitting around the fire in windy twilights, that he used to wander around more decades ago. Back then most of your friends were kids and nowadays don’t remember him very well, just his temper as he tends to easily lose patience.

They don’t know what made him stay in his factory for so long, but through the time he has been recluse, some said the metal noises have risen as if he has been working to exhaustion on something. When they told you these stories, you hoped never to find out and feared The Harvest.

That was it for your historic with the lords, at least until three months ago when you turned twenty years old and The Harvest took place again. The 20s was a unique age for the villagers, it was when they would know for sure if they had been chosen by Mother Miranda for some position in her family’s choirs. If you were free, as you’d like to say, you should start thinking about your role in the Village, finding a partner and leaving your parents’ place, if not… You would serve, not sure exactly how.

For your absolute pleasure, your 20th birthday was the most beautiful ceremony you had ever attended while living in the Village. It made it easier. It wasn’t made only for you, but for all of the young people who were turning that age in that year, as it was traditional to have The Harvest.

The small town was all dressed in light colours, paper lamps gave the paths a magical blue aura, goat wood sculptures painted white were disposed here and there blessing the birthday boys and girls. Women wore lace Prussian blue dresses below the knees and men were in grey linen tunics. People commemorated in the area around The Maiden of War with gasps and smiles.

You were dazzling. Tradition demanded that the 20s wore white, almost transparent, clothes. It was supposed to show you emerging as a pure being into something else, finally you would be considered a part of the mundane world after two decades of only experimenting it.

The families were responsible for their children’s garment, so each one looked different and unique. In your case, your mother, Ana, made a ravishing job, one that you could only have dreamt of.

Ana sewed you a white mesh ruffle midi dress, almost off shoulder if it wasn’t for the thin straps that held it there. The down skirt’s fabric was tulle and in the breast area you had a lace to tighten it, the ruffle there also worked on hiding your boobs, so you wouldn’t feel completely naked, only your nipples would show due to Fall’s weather.

After celebrating throughout the afternoon with wine, fresh pies, music and the villager’s affection for you and all the 20s being demonstrated, the night fell upon the Village and the oil lamps were lite, they started dancing in your vision like phantasmagorical illusions, inviting you to follow the way they headed. You didn’t fully understand back then, but it probably was Beneviento’s work.

Your heart throbbed immediately, the euphoria peaking your skin, making you feel electric. Maybe you were drugged, maybe a bit drunk, that didn’t matter, once what mattered was that you were absolutely surrendered by the moment. It felt almost like gluttony, the atmosphere made you want more of whatever there was to so deeply desire.

Attending the call, one by one, the 20s started walking towards the ceremony site were their parents, Mother Miranda and the four lords should be waiting for them. That year there were twelve of them, one more than last year, equally divided between men and women.

Even though it was prohibited for any villager, besides Luiza and Urias, to go past the area of the Altar, you knew where you were heading, you have explored every inch of the Village, quietly, never daring to talk about it with someone. On The Harvest, though, you were being guided. A magnificent deer appeared in front of you, it moved slowly, unafraid of your presence, he glanced at you and walked towards the site. You couldn’t help, but following it, somehow you were sure it would lead you to a pleasant event.

Past the gate and there they were, the four lords all together for the first time in your live. Strangely, you felt seduced more than scared, maybe it was the deer spells, maybe something else made you feel welcomed. The night was your wonderwall and nothing bad could happen to you.

[seoulwhat]

Virus (#9)

Summary: With a bad virus going around and a strict dad that doesn’t want you out and about, your father’s guard watches over you and you can’t help but become fond of him. 

Pairings: Yuta x reader

Genre: SMUT with aftercare

Warnings: rape, virus, choking, death of a side character

Word Count: 13.5k

You looked through the glass as you continued to walk down the street. Those were about the prettiest high heels you'd ever laid eyes on. They were a deep red, velvet and the wedge of the heel had a little heart on the corner. You HAD to have them. You walked inside the store with your arms filled with your other shopping bags and approached the employee.

"Please tell me you have those red heels on the display window in a size 8," you nervously begged. The employee looked at you and noticed the other bags hanging on your arms. 

"We actually do and it's our last pair."

You bought the heels and walked out happily. You made your way home and placed all of your shopping bags on the floor with an accomplished smile. You walked to the kitchen for a glass of water when your house phone began to ring. You sighed and rolled your eyes, knowing that the only person who calls your landline was your father. 

"Yes, dad?" You answered the phone. 

"I need you to come to the company right now. I'm sending a driver to come pick you up." And that was the end of the call. It was unusually hostile. He normally said how much he loved you and said goodbye before hanging up. 

Five minutes after the call, the driver, your dad sent to get you, rang your doorbell. You opened the door and walked out. The driver, who you knew as Sonny, followed right behind you and opened the door to let you in. Once Sonny was inside, you spoke. 

"Why does my dad want to see me?"

Sonny looked at you through his rear view mirror and shrugged. "I don't know. I was just ordered to get you and wasn't given a reason why."

Finally approaching your destination, you got out of the car once Sonny parked. Your dad's bodyguards followed you closely as you entered the building and approached the door that led to his office. Another one of his workers opened the door for you and you walked inside. The red walls were dimly lit by the lamps he had in the room. He was sitting at his desk, his arms crossed with attitude. An unfamiliar man dressed in all black stood nearby, making no eye contact with you. 

"What happened? Why did you need me to come here?" You asked right off the bat. 

He sighed before speaking. "How have you been?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. "Uh, good."

"What's been keeping you busy?"

You hesitated to answer. It somewhat seemed like he was trying to trick you to say something with his questions. "My puzzle that you got me."

"Anything else?" He said as he put a toothpick in his mouth. 

You shook your head in reply. 

"Want to tell me what you were doing shopping at a time like this?" He threw down several photos of you walking in and out of different stores. They were all taken that day. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at how closely your dads men watch you. 

"I just bought a few things. It's not like I came in contact with anything," you said and took a seat on one of the chairs in the room. 

"Did you get tested today? How do you know you didn't come in contact with the virus and brought it here to my company?"

You snorted. "I'm pretty sure if you thought I came in contact with the virus, you wouldn't have asked me to come over."

"Test her," your dad spoke to one of his men in the room. The man nodded and quickly got out a kit and took a large and long cotton swab out. This wasn't the first time you've been tested. You already knew how it happens.

The man got the swab and roughly shove it up your nose and twisted it around before pulling it out. He mixed a few chemicals together and put the swab in it. The chemical changed to a pink color, indicating that you tested negative. 

"I told you," you said. 

"Y/n, this virus is not funny," your dad said. 

"I know it's not. I'm not laughing."

"Then why aren't you taking it more seriously? So many people have died globally because of the virus and you're out here shopping as if people can't carry it. Not only that, but you didn't even think to wear the mask I got you or the gloves. And thanks to you, I made sure every store you shopped at got closed down. They shouldn't even be open during this pandemic."

You crossed your arms and huffed. "You're so annoying. It's literally not that serious. If it was that serious, the country's government would call for a lockdown period. But they don't. You know why? Because it's not that bad. People are dying because some countries don't have the supplies to help people get better," you spoke. Ever since the virus started, everything your dad did was to avoid the virus. You never saw it so seriously and you didn't understand why your dad did. 

"Okay, well since you don't find it as serious as I do, I'm going to send you off to the Flower."

You uncrossed your arms and sat up. "Don't make me go there."

Your dad shook his head. "I've already planned it. You're going to stay there until this virus has either been eradicated or it's controlled."

"Dad, you can't make me stay there. I will go insane," you said in a low voice. 

"I can make you stay there and I will. Everything you own is being transported from your house to the Flower as we speak," he said getting up. 

"And what if I leave?" You said, testing him. 

"That's what Yuta is for," he said simply. You grimaced at the name as you stared at your dad. 

"What the hell is a Yuta?"

Your dad pointed to the man in the room that failed to make eye contact with you. He was standing still as much as he possibly could with his hands behind his back. "Yuta is from Japan and he's a trained ninja. I thought it was really stereotypical but he was able to outfight all of my men. So I'm going to have him be your bodyguard, keeping you in and keeping other people out."

"You're joking. This man looks like a twig but he can outfight everyone in this building? You're lying," you said in disbelief. You were physically larger than the man. Not by height, but you outweighed him by at least 50 pounds. 

"You'll see if I'm really lying when you try to leave the Flower. Anyways, here are the protocols as follows: Sonny will drop you and Yuta off. You are free to wear whatever I bought for you in the house or you can wear your clothes. You are not allowed to have any sexual relations with Yuta, and I also told him the same thing. He is my worker and you should respect him as such."

"Sexual relations? What kind of person do you take me for?" You shouted in offense. 

"I've known you for 24 years and I've seen how you've tried to seduce my men to get your way. But you won't with Yuta. Anyways, as I was saying. Although we have a grocers one floor below, you will not be able to shop in it. I will send Jaehyun to do the shopping for you whenever you feel like you need groceries. Other than that, you have no other reason why you should leave the Flower. You no longer attend school and you are out of a job so you can busy yourself with the things at the house."

"This is not fair," you said rolling your eyes. 

"Life's not fair, honey. Say that to the millions of people with the virus that wish they could breathe as easily as you can."

You sat in silence on the chair. You eyed Yuta up and down, wondering if he really can defend you if that needed to happen. Many people in the past have tried breaking in to the Flower to get the expensive items inside the building, and at one point, it took all of your dads men to fight off a heist that went down. Fortunately, they intervened but many of your dads men got hurt. 

"Since I have nothing more to say to you, you and Yuta can now leave," your dad spoke. He sat back down on the chair and began to type away on his computer. You got up aggressively, trying to show your anger in your actions and slammed opened the door as you walked out. You walked towards the exit and Sonny was waiting there with the door open. 

"Sorry to hear about what happened, Miss," Sonny spoke. 

"It's fine," you said getting into the car. "It's not like it's your fault."

Sonny closed the door and a few minutes later, Yuta got in to the opposite side of the backseat. Sonny took off to the Flower and the ride was in silence. After an hour in the car, the skyscraper shaped as a large flower began to appear. You hadn't seen the building in about six years. When you turned 18, your dad bought you the building to live in. It was already stocked with several shopping stores and a market. You refused to live in the building guarded by your dads men so you rented out an apartment that was nice and simple. Although you loved shopping and expensive material things, you'd never found an interest in house luxury. 

Once Sonny parked in the underground parking, you got out of the car before he could open the door for you. You approached the elevator and waited for it to open. You took a deep breath before walking inside and Yuta walked in right behind you. The ride up to the top floor took longer than you expected. 

"How long have you been working for my dad?" You asked to break the silence. 

Yuta stood there, staring at absolutely nothing, and ignored your question. 

"Are you not allowed to talk to me?" You asked him, wondering if he even heard you the first time. Yet again, he ignored you. You sucked your teeth, annoyed by the man already. The elevator approached the penthouse and you took out your keycard and scanned it. The two of you walked in. Everything was still in place since the last time you saw it. Oddly enough, nothing was filled with dust. You assumed your dad had it cleaned beforehand. Many boxes of your things from your apartment filled the living room and you decided to just put those away later. 

You left Yuta at the entrance and began to wander around. You looked through the ceiling to floor glass windows and saw the whole city. It was really a beautiful sight and not something you often saw. 

The piano was still in the same spot. Your dad bought it thinking you were going to have time during school to play. Little did he know at the time that you weren't even going to live in the penthouse. 

You walked up the spiral staircase and approached the hallway. The walls were now painted a light pink, different than the ugly green it once was. You opened the door to your room and the wide space surprised you. It wasn't the first time seeing your room but you forgot how big it actually was. The bed was twice the size of your full sized bed at your apartment and the bathroom was inside your room. Having a bathroom inside your bedroom was a different type of luxury. 

You approached your closet and slid the doors open. A rainbow of colors flourished in the closet and you never actually took the chance to see the type of clothes your dad packed the closet with. Different name brands filled the closet, even brands you'd never even heard of before. All the clothes still had tags on them and you couldn't believe the prices of some of the items. 

"Dad wasn't kidding when he said he'd spoil me if I stood here," you spoke to yourself. You continued looking through the clothes, looking for a nice shirt to wear. You took out an indigo colored wooled sweater. It was super cute and soft. You took off the shirt you were wearing and put the sweater on, feeling like a soft blanket was hugging you. 

You opened the bottom drawers, looking for pants. There were about ten drawers and five of them were filled with jeans, all of them color coded. You specifically looked for a black pair and replaced your shorts with the jeans. You pulled out another drawer that had rows of shoes and put on a pair that looked like a normal pair of shoes. 

You walked back downstairs wearing your new clothes and you walked into the kitchen. You opened the fridge to see that it was completely empty, as was your stomach. 

"Is it okay if we order fast food and have them deliver it?" You asked Yuta. He was standing guard by the elevator door, once again staring at nothing. He didn't answer you, nor did he even make a movement. 

"I can't believe I'm stuck in a large house with no one to talk to," you said annoyed. You reached for the house phone and looked at the phone book that the building provided. You pressed the number on the phone and waited patiently. 

"Hello, Flower Grocers," the voice spoke. 

"Hi, can I speak with Jaehyun?" You asked. 

"Speaking," the voice said. 

"Hi, Jaehyun. This is Y/n," you said. 

"Oh my god! How are you? Why are you calling with the Flower's phone?" He asked. 

"My dad is making me stay here because of the virus," you huffed."

"Oh I see. Yeah it's getting pretty bad out there. But how can I help you?" He asked. 

"I don't know if my dad told you but he said I can't go grocery shopping in the building and that you have to do it for me. Do you think you'd be able to get me a few things and bring them up?"

"Of course I can. You know I'm always willing to help you out. Tell me what you feel like eating and I'll get the ingredients and a recipe for you."

You told Jaehyun you felt like eating cheeseburgers and the call ended. Your stomach growled loud at the thought of eating and you looked at Yuta. 

"What are you going to eat?" You asked him. No reply. 

"Are you allowed to eat?" You asked. Still, no reply. 

"Are you going to sleep or is someone going to be switching shifts with you?" You asked. Silence. 

"What if you have to use the restroom? Did my dad not plan any of this? As much as you'd like to not think about it, you're as much of a human as I am and you won't be working your best if you don't eat and sleep."

He continued to ignore you. You shrugged your shoulders. "Fine. Ignore me then. Let's see if you ignore me when you're tired and hungry."

The elevator softly chimed, indicating someone was approaching the top floor. You had a feeling it was Jaehyun and approached the elevator doors to allow him inside and to help him bring the groceries inside. As you stood by the doors waiting, Yuta aggressively pushed you behind him when the elevator dinged. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" You yelled at him. You tried to go around him but he kept getting in your way, stepping side to side to keep you from going around him. You used all your might and pushed him to the side, making him slightly stumble. You scanned your key card and allowed the elevator doors to open. 

"I'm sorry to tell you but this is not a robbery, you dumbass. Jaehyun is delivering my groceries," you shouted at Yuta as Jaehyun stood there inside the elevator. His eyes were somewhat wide and he didn't step out of the elevator. 

"I'm sorry. He's supposed to be my guard but my dad failed to tell me he's a complete moron," you said as you helped bring the groceries in. Jaehyun followed right behind you and placed the groceries on the counter. 

"Wow, this place is huge. I've never been in here," he said. 

"Really? Well you're more than welcome to come and visit me whenever you want. I literally have no one to talk to."

Jaehyun turned around and eyed Yuta who was back in his position. Jaehyun looked at you and raised his eyebrows. 

"He doesn't speak," you said out loud. "He's like mute or something."

"Well, that's not nice," Jaehyun said, helping you take out the food from the bags. 

"Well, neither is he. So I guess we're even," you said. 

The two of you continued to talk and you invited Jaehyun to stay for dinner. He helped you make dinner, prepping the lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions and the condiments for the cheeseburgers. You cooked the burgers and toasted the buns. 

Jaehyun approached you from behind to see how the burgers were coming along. "You're only making two?" He whispered. 

You nodded your head. "He ignored me when I asked him what he was going to eat. So I don't really care."

Jaehyun frowned. "You're being a little mean. Why don't you just make him one and leave it out over night for him. Maybe he doesn't want to eat while you're awake."

You took his words into consideration. Yuta was on the job and apparently he took his job seriously. You had to commend him for that. He was here protecting you but then again, he was also babysitting you. You sighed and rolled your eyes, knowing Jaehyun was probably right. You decided to make an extra cheeseburger. You put all the ingredients together and placed it in the microwave for later. You got your burger and Jaehyun's and brought the plates to the table where Jaehyun was seated already. 

"Mmm," he said sniffing. "It smells so good. I haven't had a cheeseburger in a while."

You laughed at his comment. "Jaehyun, we live smack in the middle of a large and busy city filled with vendors that make burgers everyday. Where have you been?"

"Working at the market," he said frowning. "I never have extra time to go out. I'm currently using my lunchtime to hang out with you because I didn't eat lunch earlier. I work as much as I can to get as much money as I can. It's hard living paycheck to paycheck, you know?"

You sympathized with Jaehyun. Unfortunately, you couldn't relate. You never financially struggled because your dad was always there to back you up whenever you needed the help.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea how much you struggled. Working for my dad, I assumed he paid all his employees well considering the amount of money he makes running his company."

Before you let Jaehyun reply, you got up and went to one of the boxes on the floor. Inside, you took out your wallet and pulled out the cash you had. You rolled it up, put your wallet back in the box and walked back to the table. 

You sat down and reached for Jaehyun's hand. You placed the roll of cash in his hand. "It's around $1,000. This is for always being a good friend to me since we were little kids. And this is also for caring more about other people than yourself. You're a good person who deserves more than what he gets."

Jaehyun looked into his hand and widened his eyes at the cash. He began to shake his head, bringing his hand towards you. You pushed his hand back. 

"You know who my dad is. I don't need the money. I want to help you and I'm willing to help you whenever you need it, okay? All you need to do is ask."

His eyes began to water and you could see how hard he was trying to hold in his tears. A large smiled formed on his face and he looked up at you. "Thank you so much for this."

You smiled back in reply and then looked down, knowing he must be uncomfortable crying in front of you. You picked up your burger and took a large bite out of it. 

Jaehyun sniffled and then laughed. "I can't believe I'm crying when I have a burger right in front of me."

You smiled at his humor and the rest of the night, Jaehyun seemed happier. 

Time ticked by and before you knew it, Jaehyun had to go home. He had to get up early the next day to open the market. You said goodbye to him as the elevator doors closed.

You cleaned up the table and did the dishes. There was not much else to do. It was getting late and it's not like you had anyone to talk to. It was barely 9 P.M. and you sighed.

You turned to Yuta who seemed to not have move a single hairbreadth since he went back in position. You stared at him and checked him out. He wasn't too bad looking. His hair curled around his neck and it was a light lavender color. Parts of his hair hung over his forehead just above his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, they were almond shaped but they were actually mesmerizing. His nose was long and curved at the tip, perfectly matching the rest of his face. And his lips, his lips were long and light pink. For a second, you thought you saw Yuta look at you and then look away. This made you want to approach him. 

You walked slowly towards him. You stared at him, wondering if he was even breathing. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by the man. He didn't speak, and you wondered why. You were finally face to face with him, allowing you to see his perfect and sculpted face up close. He was just as beautiful up close as he was far away. His hair looked so soft and you had the urge to touch it. 

"Can I touch your hair?" You asked. He didn't respond and continued to look as if he was upset about something. He didn't answer, so you slowly reached up, expecting him to stop you. But when he didn't, your hand came in contact with his hair. And it was soft. You moved hair strands out of his face and pushed it softly back. Like always, he didn't move a single bit and you wondered what would make him crack. 

"You know, I think I'd have a fat crush on you if you actually spoke to me," you admitted to him. It was like talking to a wall, so you weren't even remotely embarrassed to speak your mind. 

"Would you tell my dad if I tried to make a move on you?" You asked him. You laughed when he didn't respond. 

You took a step back away from him. "Don't worry. I won't. Or at least, I'll try not to. You know, a girl has needs and being stuck in this building with an attractive man that I can't have won't do me any good."

You walked away and into the kitchen. You opened the microwave and took out the burger you made for Yuta. You brought the plate over to him and placed it in front of his face.

"You know, I don't know what's wrong with you, but I made you a burger. I know you're going to get hungry. I'll leave it right here beside you just in case you want it, okay?"

You took out one of the kitchen chairs and place it beside him. You put his burger on top and made sure it wouldn't fall.

"Anyways, I'm going to bed. Do you want the lights on?" You asked. Yuta huffed like if you were getting on his last nerve.

"Hey! You made a sound! That's progress! I'll leave the light on for you. Goodnight and sweet dreams, Yuta."

A few weeks had passed and it was the same routine. Jaehyun would shop for you, he'd come up for lunch and then leave by evening. Yuta still hadn't said a word, although, he did eat the food that you would prepare for him. You weren't sure when he had the time to use the restroom or take care of himself because you had never seen him do it while you were awake. 

One early morning, you woke up and Yuta was not in his position. You furrowed your brows and wondered where he went. 

"Yuta?" You called out to him. The house was huge and you had no idea where he might be. Leaving the house also ran through your mind but Yuta seemed so uptight about following the rules, you doubted he left the building. 

You continued to walk around the house, looking for Yuta. He wasn't in the basement where all the wine was located. He wasn't in the attic where all of your old memories were located. He wasn't in any of the bedrooms, living room, game room, kitchen. You had no idea where else to check. 

You called out to him once more. "Yuta? Where did you go?"

You started to feel stupid, assuming that he probably did leave the house and you were there alone yelling out his name to no one. You heard footsteps from behind you and you quickly turned around. Yuta was walking out of the hallway that was across the living room, the one place you forgot to check. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and it was hanging unbelievably low. He was completely naked from head to toe and the only thing hiding his dignity was the towel. He approached you and your eyes widened more with every step he took towards you. The closer he got, the better you were able to see his defined abs, the water dripping down his body, his hair wet, and the great smell of men's body wash. He had a ball of clothes in his arms and as he approached you, he handed them to you. You looked up at him, confused and furrowed your eyebrows. 

"What's this?" You asked him. He didn't reply and instead just stared at you. He watched your movements as you scanned through the wad of black clothes in your arms. 

"Are these your clothes you were wearing before your shower?" You asked him. He closed his eyes momentarily and nodded. 

"Do you want me to wash them?" You asked him, assuming that's why he gave them to you. Again, he nodded in response. 

You smiled at him, happy that he wasn't just a stone standing by the elevator. You felt giddy inside knowing that he actually responded to you. It wasn't vocally but it was still a response nonetheless. 

You put his clothes in the washer and then went up to your room and grabbed a shirt and a pair of sweats that looked like could fit him. You brought them down to where he was waiting in the living room. You approached him and as he turned to look at you, a small glimmer hit your eye. You looked down to what it was and it was a belly button piercing. 

You gasped out loud and your mouth dropped open. "You have a belly button piercing?"

He didn't respond, only stared at you. You walked closer and bent over to see it clearly. He had a belly button piercing and a silver curved bar went through it. "Oh my god, you have a belly button piercing. That's so hot."

You kept staring at it and then you felt his eyes watching you. You looked up at him and he had no expression on his face. You didn't know what he was thinking. You stood up straight and took a step back. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I brought you some clothes that I think might fit you. You can wear these until your clothes are ready."

You handed him the clothes and he bowed before leaving. He walked back into the hallway that he came out from and your curiosity got the best of you. You didn't really know what was in that hallway. You knew there was one room down that way, but it was only a storage room. You followed the same path Yuta took and walked down the hallway. As you approached it, three doors appeared. Confusion crossed your face because you didn't remember there being three rooms in the hallway. You opened the one door that you were familiar with and like you thought, it was the storage room. You opened another door that was right across from it and it was an unfamiliar bathroom. You wondered where Yuta went. You thought he might have went back into the bathroom, where he showered, to put his clothes on. You approached the last door and opened it, slowly, and it looked like a bedroom. Your eyes instantly made eye contact with a naked Yuta and you gasped out loud and slammed the door. You walked out of the hallway and stood as far away from it as possible. 

Heat rose to your face and you fanned yourself. Your skin began to prickle with sweat, completely embarrassed that you saw Yuta naked. It was a sight to see but the fact that you saw the one and only man in the house naked made you feel flustered. 

Yuta walked out of the dark hallway wearing your clothes. They fit him quite good but that wasn't what was running through your mind. Yuta looked angry and he was approaching you quickly. You got scared and your feet quickly took you up the staircase. You could hear his footsteps right behind you and you ran to your room as fast as you could. You slammed the door and locked it. Yuta banged on the door a few times and then it went silent. 

He had a right to be mad. Here he was, professionally working, and his bosses daughter sees him naked. You decided to stay in your room for the rest of the morning and afternoon.

You didn't have much to do in your room. The only thing your room was equipped with was a large bed, a bathroom and clothes. You wished you had a tv but the only tv in the house was in the living room, and you weren't about to walk back out there with an angry Yuta that can fight off all of your dads men. You decided to just lay in your bed and wait for the time to pass by. Before you knew it, your eyes began to flutter close and you fell asleep. 

When you woke up, you noticed the sun was setting. You had no idea how long you slept because you didn't even know what time you fell asleep. You got up and out of bed and opened your door slowly. You looked down the hallway in both directions to see if the coast was clear to leave. You didn't see Yuta so you made your way out. You walked down the stairs on your tiptoes and scanned the living room as you came down. You didn't see him. You walked into the laundry room and noticed that his clothes were gone, so he must've put them in the dryer. He wasn't in the kitchen so you assumed he was in the bedroom down the hallway. You didn't want to watch tv because that would create noise and Yuta would know you were out of your room. You decided to take out a puzzle that you bought a few years ago but never actually started. 

It was stored in one of the boxes that you had yet to unpack. You took it out and began to lay the pieces out individually on the floor by the piano. The floor to ceiling windows helped you use the natural light from outside to do your puzzle but it slowly began to fade into darkness. You're not sure how much time passed by but you managed to put 5,000 puzzle pieces right side up and find all the corners and piece them together. You were so busy with your puzzle that you didn't even recognize the footsteps approaching you from behind. Minding your own business, you continued with the puzzle. 

"What are you doing?" A deep voice spoke into your ear and you screamed in terror. You quickly turned around while seated on the floor and Yuta was bent over you, trying to see over your shoulder what you were doing. 

"Y-you spoke," you managed to say. Yuta squatted down to your level and made eye contact with you. He nodded in response. 

"You can speak," you said in disbelief. So he wasn't mute after all. Images of what happened earlier flashed through your mind and you began to squirm. You knew you had to apologize to him. 

"About earlier, I'm really sorry-"

Yuta put his hand out to stop you, but you continued talking. 

"I promise, I didn't see anything," you lied. "Regardless though, I should respect your privacy. I just didn't know those rooms were in that hallway. When my dad bought me this place, I remember there only being a storage room."

Yuta nodded in response to confirm your thoughts. 

You raised your eyebrows. "So there was? I knew I wasn't crazy!"

"Your dad had those rooms built in for me a few months ago when the virus barely started," Yuta spoke. His voice was deep but very smooth. You could listen to him speak forever. 

"Is there a reason why you're barely talking to me now and didn't want to these past few weeks?" You asked him. He shook his head in response. 

"Please talk to me more. I really like the sound of your voice. I might go insane if my voice is the only one I hear all the time."

"Maybe," he replied and took a seat next to you. He began to help you with your puzzle and said no more. You noticed he was still wearing the clothes you gave him. He looked comfortable and less of a robot than he did yesterday. 

Not much of the puzzle was finished an hour later. You and Yuta managed to separate the pieces by color but after that, you got tired of sitting on the hard floor. You stood up and Yuta looked up at you in curiosity.

"Are you hungry?" You asked him. He nodded. You walked into the kitchen and checked out the fridge. Unfortunately, you only had a few veggies but there wasn't even enough to make a decent veggie meal for the two of you. You checked the time to see if you could still order groceries but they close at 8pm and it was already 8:45pm. 

"Yuta, we have a problem," you said from the kitchen. You could hear him approaching you and you looked up from the fridge to him. "We don't have food to make."

You could see Yuta running through his thoughts and then finally looked back at you. "I can pick us up something to eat at a fast-food place but you have to promise me you'll stay here."

You smiled and nodded your head. "I promise I'll stay here."

Yuta walked down the hallway to his room and came back out with a sweater. He waved goodbye to you and left.

Being alone in the house, you let out a large sigh that relieved tension in your back. You didn't realize how tight your muscles were being around Yuta. Several weeks had passed by from the time you were forced to stay in the house and you wondered how long this quarantine was going to last. You hated it. You could've been out at a club right now, having drinks and dancing. But instead, you were at home with a man that feels uncomfortable to say more than 20 words to you.

You continued to think in silence and wonder what was it that made Yuta want to speak. Not only that, but Yuta left his job posting. After all those past weeks of staying right by the elevator door, and suddenly he left you at home alone to get food. It was really odd and you couldn't really find a reason why he's not acting the way he has been. 

You sat down on the couch and laid your head back with a sigh. For a second, you wished you had a dildo to satisfy yourself and keep you busy when there was nothing else to do. Unfortunately, all of your toys were at your apartment and you doubted your dad's men packed those for you. 

To see if your assumptions were right, you checked the boxes to see if they managed to pack your toys. Everything was thrown messily in the boxes so you began to search deep inside them. To your surprise, you actually found them below a couple of other things. You took out your favorite toy and turned it on, the vibration instantly making your core throb. You wondered if you should play with yourself until Yuta came back. You thought for a second, realizing that Yuta didn't have a car to take and he was probably walking to get the food. 

You laid down on the couch and lowered your pajama pants and underwear. You flipped on the dildo and pressed it against your clit, making goosebumps appear on your skin and a shiver run throughout your whole body. It had literally been weeks since you last satisfied yourself and now that you're breaking your hiatus, it felt so good. 

You continued to let the vibration massage your clit. You pulled up your shirt and bra and ran your hand up your body to one of your breasts. You tweaked your nipple and the pleasure from both the toy and your nipple began to run through your body. You moaned loud as you felt your climax approaching. You inserted the dildo inside your pussy and simultaneously, the toy vibrated on your clit. Multiple parts of your body were being stimulated and your body began to shake. You knew your orgasm was approaching and it was coming quickly. You tried to go fast all the while shaking, and then you heard someone clear their throat from behind you. Your climax completely dissolved as you froze in terror and turned the toy off. You didn't move from the couch, too scared to turn around. You quickly pulled your shirt down along with your bra and tried to bring your underwear and pants up while sitting down on the couch. The noise could only come from one person and you were already dead embarrassed. 

You stood up from the couch, hid the toy behind your back, and turned around with your eyes closed. You were sure you were tomato red and you were too embarrassed to open your eyes to see Yuta's expression. 

"Um, I brought us food. There was a food vendor right outside the building so I got us some burgers and fries," you heard Yuta say. "You can open your eyes."

You opened your eyes slowly and rubbed your face with your hand out of embarrassment. This was probably the worst day of your life, being forced to stay quarantined running second in place. 

"I am so sorry," you finally spoke. "I thought you were going to be gone for at least twenty minutes."

Yuta put his hand up and nodded. "I get it. Come eat."

Passing by the boxes on the floor, you threw your toy inside quickly and approached the bags of food. Your stomach growled and Yuta handed you your food.

"I'll be right back," Yuta said and walked down the hallway and into his room. You brought your food and his to the dining table and waited for Yuta to come back. As you waited, you searched for the right words to say to apologize correctly. People say things are okay all the time, but they don't always mean it. 

Ten minutes had passed and he still wasn't out of his room and you were starving. You decided to just eat and apologize to Yuta once he comes out. You managed to finish your whole meal and Yuta still wasn't out. You began to worry a little about him, wondering if he was okay. You threw your trash away and slowly approached his bedroom door. You knocked softly and spoke. 

"Yuta? Are you okay? Your food is getting cold. I was waiting for you to start eating but you're taking too long so I already ate."

His bedroom door swung open and he was really red in the face and looked sweaty. You looked at him with surprise and worry. 

"Yuta, why are you so red? Are you okay?" You put your palm to his head and he was really warm. "Are you getting sick? You feel feverish. Do you need medicine?"

Yuta shook his head in response and continued to walk out of his room. He sat down on the table and you sat with him to accompany him. As time ticked by slowly, the flush in his face slowly subsided and his skin went back to normal.

He finally finished his meal and he sat back in satisfaction. You checked the time and it was pretty late and you looked back up at Yuta. 

"Can I ask you something?" You asked Yuta. He nodded. 

"It involves a verbal response though," you mentioned. He nodded his head to signal you to go ahead. 

"These past few weeks you had been so uptight about doing your job and not talking to me, why is today the day you decide to interact with me? Not only that, but you left your spot where you always stand and you're actually eating in front of me."

Yuta sat forward and intertwined his fingers. "Your father called me and he asked me how I was doing. He's a pretty caring man and I was really surprised when he asked if I was taking care of my own needs. I am a man of truth so I told him what I have been up to. Although the bedroom and restroom were built for me, I was not going to enjoy them if your father didn't first give me permission. He asked me how was our relationship turning out and I told him I hadn't spoken to you once. He was shocked at how many weeks passed by and we hadn't spoke but he encouraged me to talk to you. I had no problems with you, I just take my job seriously."

You nodded your head, impressed by everything he said. You were also mesmerized by his voice. He finally said more words than you can count on your fingers and honestly, you really didn't want to stop hearing his voice.

You took a deep breath, knowing what you wanted to say but not knowing how to say it. "Listen, about earlier. I know you said it was okay, but out of respect, I need to give you a better apology. This is embarrassing for me and I know it really caught you off guard. I should've been doing that in my room rather than the living room. I'm really sorry you saw what I was doing."

Yuta lightly laughed and you looked up to him. He was smiling and then he spoke. "It's really fine. I get it. We have needs to tend to and we are first and foremost, humans. It was actually kind of hot to know what you were doing."

Your eyes widened at his response and you felt the temperature in the house rise by a few degrees. You could feel your cheeks and ears getting hot and you quickly looked away to hide your fluster. Again, Yuta laughed at your silent response. 

"It's getting late now and I think we should go to sleep. I haven't had a decent sleep in three months," Yuta said. 

You nodded and quickly got up from your chair and threw your trash and Yuta's trash away.

"Okay well I'll see you tomorrow," you said to him. He nodded his head and watched as you turned around and walked up the stairs. Once you were in your room with the door closed, you let out a huge sigh of relief, not knowing how irregular you were breathing. You could sense a sexual tension rising between the two of you, but you could never make the first move. Although your confidence can drive you to say certain things, you didn't have enough confidence to take action.

You threw yourself on your bed and checked the time on your clock. It was already midnight and you were thankful for how late it was because although you took a nap earlier, you were tired. 

The next morning, you decided to call downstairs to the grocers to buy more food for the house. Since Yuta was now eating, you knew you had to order more food and enough for at least a week. Just like routine, Jaehyun answered the phone and you told him the list of food you wanted.

"I'll be up in about an hour," he said before hanging up. 

You decided to do a few chores around the house to keep yourself busy until Jaehyun came up or until Yuta woke up. Nothing was really messy but you cleaned whatever was visible. The kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, you mopped, dusted, did some laundry and tried to clean as much of the tall windows as you could. Eventually, the elevator dinged, indicating that Jaehyun was coming. You scanned your keycard to let him up but when the elevator doors opened, an unfamiliar man stood there with your groceries.

"Um, who are you?" You asked him. He was really good looking but his good looks didn't make you any less suspicious. 

"I'm here to bring you your groceries," he stated. 

"Where's Jaehyun?" You asked. 

"He had something to do so I offered to take these up to you."

You nodded your head, giving him the okay to come inside. "Jaehyun usually puts the groceries away."

The man nodded as he was bringing the food in from the elevator.

"Let me know when you're done. I'll be upstairs putting away some laundry," you told him. He nodded in understanding and with that, you grabbed your laundry basket from the wash room and went upstairs to your bedroom. 

You began separating your clothes. The ones that needed to be hung up, the ones that needed to be folded, your underwear, socks and miscellaneous particles were all separated into their own groups. You began putting them away and before you knew it, all of your clothes were stacked neatly inside your closet. As you were putting your clothes basket away in your storage closet, you heard your bedroom door open. You assumed it was the grocers man telling you he was finished.

You heard your bedroom door close and lock and out of confusion, you walked back out to see what was going on. The grocers man was standing at the door staring at you. 

"Uh, can I help you with something?" An uneasy feeling washed over you body, as you watched the man stand in front of your now locked door. 

"Actually," the man spoke. "You can."  He smiled at you but it wasn't a regular friendly smile. He took a step towards you and your instinct told you to take one step back. He continued to walk towards you and before you knew it, the back of your legs hit your bed. 

"What are you doing? You do know I have a watchman in my house, right?" You told him. 

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but where is he now? He's asleep, isn't he? Yuta, the man that should be watching Felix Reyes' daughter, is dead asleep and he won't be able to hear anything."

The last part of the mans sentence made your heart race even more than it was before. You looked at your surroundings, searching for a clear path to leave your room and run downstairs, but he was blocking the only pathway to the door. He noticed what you were doing and laughed. 

"You're not going anywhere until I feel like I'm done."

"Why are you doing this to me?" You asked him. 

"Because your dad owes me money but for some reason, he thinks he's too high and mighty to pay me back. I told him I would get him where it hurts the most; can you guess what that is?" He slowly reached into his back pocket and took out a large silver object. He pressed a button and you realized that it was a switchblade. 

"Wait," you said with your hands in front of you. "I have money. What if I give you the money?"

The man evilly smiled and laughed. He continued walking towards you and your feet brought you to try to run around him. You were mere inches away from your door before he grabbed you by the waist, threw you over his shoulder and carried you to your bed. He threw you down and instantly climbed on top of you. You began throwing your fists, trying to aim for his face but he kept moving. He got ahold of both of your wrists, pinned them above you, and put the knife to your neck. 

"Keep moving and see if I don't slice your neck and leave you dead on your bed," the man threatened. Tears began to run down your face as the coldness from the blade stung your skin. 

The man, sitting right on top of you, began to scan your body, and you wriggled in hopes that he would get off of you. 

"Please, don't hurt me," you begged him. 

"I won't sweetheart," he said, sliding the knife across your cheek. "What I plan on doing to you, oh I promise you'll enjoy it."

The mans breath fanned your face and although his breath did not smell, you felt like you were about to throw up. His body odor made your head spin and you became nauseous and numb at the same time. You shook your head, not wanting this to happen to you. 

"You have a fucking hot body," he said. He dropped the knife onto your bed and used his hands to grope your body. His large hand roughly grabbed your breast and you cried out in pain. Quickly, he placed his hand over your mouth. 

"Make anymore noise and I'll kill you and that man downstairs."

Silent tears continued to run down your face and you wished you could fast forward to when this was done. With your eyes closed, you tried to think of something happy; going back to a time where you were actually happy with your life. It was a time when your mom was alive, before she died from cancer.

Your mind numbed your body and silenced everything around you. Although you couldn't feel or hear what was going on, you knew what was really happening. You continued to lay underneath the large man, no fight left inside your body. 

You began to feel like you couldn't breathe. It almost felt like the weight of the mans body was crushing you and you began gasping for air. However almost instantly, the weight was lifted and you opened your eyes. You were no longer seeing the man that was above you but instead saw the white ceiling in your bedroom. Slowly, your hearing came back and shortly followed was your sense of touch. You could hear grunting and loud thumps throughout your bedroom but you didn't have the strength to sit up and see what it was. You had no idea where that man was but you were thankful that he was no longer on you. You continued to look at your ceiling, the white paint making you feel at peace. 

"Y/n," you heard someone say. It was very muffled and you were confused. You couldn't recognize the voice and you didn't have the strength to move your gaze to the sound. The only thing you managed to focus on was the ceiling. 

"Y/n, are you okay? I need to take you to the hospital."

Whoever was talking to you lifted you up off of your bed and began carrying you out of your room. You didn't know what was going on and slowly, your vision turned black. 

"I promised to take care of you and I couldn't even do that," you heard the voice say before your hearing subsided into darkness. 

;;

The first thing to wake up was your hearing. You knew you were still asleep but you could hear what was going on around you. You could hear beeping, almost as if you were staying in the hospital. It didn't smell like the hospital though. It smelled like...home. 

Normally, hospital beds are hard and uncomfortable, but whatever you were sleeping on was soft. However, you knew it wasn't your bed. You know your own smell and the smell of the blankets and pillows surrounding you, although was not your own, was still very comforting and you couldn't find the reason why. 

Your brain was now waking up but your body was still asleep. You tried to tell the rest of your body to wake up but it just wasn't happening. You could smell food and you wanted to get up so badly, but your eyes wouldn't open. Your hands began to twitch, fighting to move. You decided it was pointless to fight with sleep so you stopped trying to force yourself awake and instead waited until your eyes opened when your brain wanted them to. 

Before you knew it, you began to open your eyes. You slowly looked around and noticed you were in an unfamiliar yet familiar room. You couldn't pinpoint why the room looked familiar. You began to scan everything: looking at the blankets, pillow, wallpaper, the dresser, closet. It almost seemed as if you had seen the room before. 

You slowly sat up and stood quiet to see if you could hear anything outside of the room. It was silent and you could no longer smell the food that you once smelled before. You got out of bed and recognized that you were in pajamas that you didn't know you owned. You approached the bedroom door and opened it. 

You walked out of the room and finally realized where you were. You were sleeping in Yuta's room. But how did you get there?

Your feet walked you out of the hallway and into the living room. Jaehyun was sitting on the couch and you stood there confused. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You struggled with your voice and you were confused as to why you couldn't say anything. You tried to call out to him but once again, your voice failed you. 

You continued to walk up to Jaehyun and finally he saw you from the side of his eye and looked up at you with shock on his face.

"Y/n," he said. "You're awake."

His words made you stop in your tracks and you drew your eyebrows in. Why would you not wake up?

He got up from the couch and approached you, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He slowly brought his hands up to your shoulders, as if to be cautious, and when he realized you were allowing him to touch you, he brought you in for a huge hug. His arms wrapped around you tightly and he began sobbing into your shoulder. You didn't know what was going on and you had so many questions.

Jaehyun pulled away from the hug and looked at you with teary eyes.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. 

"I feel fine," you managed to croak out. Your voice was completely hoarse and you grimaced at the sound of your own voice. Jaehyun smiled at your reaction and reached down to hold both of your hands.

"Why did I wake up in Yuta's room?" You asked. 

Jaehyun's smile faded away quickly and he looked at you with sympathy. "Y/n, do you remember what happened? Do you know how long you were asleep for?"

His questions brought more confusion to you. You shook your head in reply. Jaehyun grabbed your hand and brought you to sit down with him on the couch. He began speaking with a soft voice and as he began to tell you what happened, memories of that day began to flood your brain. He said you had been asleep for weeks and the doctors didn't know why you fell into a coma.

"Yuta tried taking you to the hospital but because of the virus going around, they turned both of you down. However, a doctor came to see you and was so confused as to why you fell into a coma after what happened. His conclusion was that your body was trying to recover from a traumatic event."

Tears began falling down your face. You began to remember vividly what happened that day. The day that Jaehyun was supposed to bring your groceries.

"You were supposed to be here," you told him through a trembling voice. "You were supposed to bring my groceries. Not that man."

Jaehyun grabbed you by the shoulders and hugged you, trying to comfort you. "I know. I should've been there. I should've fought the guy off but he hit me over the head and gave me a concussion. I was knocked out for a few days and I regret every single day for not thinking he was more suspicious when he volunteered to bring your groceries up."

"Where's Yuta?" You asked him. Jaehyun looked behind him and you followed his gaze. There Yuta stood, right by the elevator door, just like he did the first few months he watched over you. You gasped and stood from the couch. You ran up to Yuta and embraced him. You cried right into his chest and continued to hug him. When he didn't return the embrace, you looked up at him. He had a stern look across his face and he didn't look down at you once. 

"Yuta?" You called out to him. "Why aren't you looking at me?"

He ignored you and didn't speak. You pulled away from him and stood back. "Yuta? Why are you ignoring me? Talk to me, please,” you begged. 

"He's back to the way he used to be, Y/n. He hated how off guard he was that day and he went back to not sleeping, eating and always guarding the door."

You shook your head and continued to cry. "Please, Yuta, don't be like this. Talk to me, please."

He didn't say a word and like Jaehyun said, he was back to the way he was before. You turned away from Yuta and turned towards Jaehyun. 

"Where is that man?" You asked. 

"Yuta killed him when he found the man on top of you," Jaehyun said. 

Frustration was now taking over your emotions and you were upset that Yuta already killed the man. If he was still alive, you'd kill him yourself. 

You felt frustrated that you had been raped. You felt frustrated that Yuta was back to the way he was before. You hated that he blamed himself for what happened. You hated that the man was dead already. You hated that you had slipped into a coma for unknown reasons. You hated that you had to stay in the Flower. You hated this virus going on. You hated everything at the moment and you were slowly being filled with anger at everything around you. 

Jaehyun left and went back downstairs to the grocers and you were once again left in silence.

;;

A year had passed since the incident and Yuta was still not talking to you. Every few weeks or so, he would switch shifts with another guard that your dad hired so that Yuta could have his time to sleep, eat and take care of his other needs. He never ate the food you made for him, he never slept and he never left his post. It made you upset every time you tried to talk to him and he would ignore you. You were annoyed that he blamed himself for what happened when in all honesty, there was no way Yuta could have predicted what would happen even if he wasn't asleep that day. 

You had tried whatever you could think of to sway Yuta. You tried putting delicious food in his face, you tried telling him jokes, tickling him, you tried every possible way to make him laugh. You tried to seduce him and that completely backfired when you got a call the next day from your dad about how he had warned you about seducing his men. 

Another year had gone by and you had grown to ignore Yuta. He was acting like a statue in the house, almost like an ornament or decoration. Jaehyun was no longer working at the grocers downstairs and moved onto creating his own business. You lost the only friend you had in the building. The virus had gotten worse and there was no vaccine available. You were practically at home alone. 

"Please talk to me. I feel like I'm going to go insane," you begged Yuta. It was your birthday and you hadn't spoke to a single human in a year. "Yuta, please. How much more do I need to beg you to talk to me. It's my birthday and I haven't spoken to anyone in months."

You walked up to him and stood close in front of him. You grabbed his face and smashed his cheeks together, the first skin-to-skin contact you've ever had with Yuta since he started watching over you. You pinched his cheeks and you could tell he was trying his best not to give in to your tactics. Suddenly, Yuta grabbed both of your wrists and held them up. He looked you in the eyes and you could tell he was annoyed with you. He threw your hands down in irritation and then looked away from your gaze. 

"That's progress,” you simply said. 

The next day, you did the same thing. This time, he didn't stop you. You ran your fingers through his hair. It was now a light brown with blond highlights and it looked better on him than his lavender hair.

"This hair looks really good on you," you told him. You continued to run your fingers through his hair and he didn't move a single bit. 

You brought both of your hands to his cheeks and again smashed his cheeks. His pink lips puckered up and you laughed at the face that was formed from smashing his cheeks. You looked down to his lips and you had the sudden urge to place your own on his. You wanted to, so badly, but you didn't know how he'd react. You brought your face close to his, lips almost touching, and Yuta's eyes widened as he looked down at you. He didn't stop you, and when he didn't, you softly placed your lips on his. The kiss was very gentle, you were worried that if you got too carried away, he would push you away. But he didn't push you away and you continued to kiss him. 

His lips, although at first were frozen, began to move along with yours. His eyes closed and finally began to mold with yours. The tender kiss created a new hunger within you. You pulled away from the kiss, your breath and Yuta's unsteady, and you took a step away from him. 

"All I want is attention from you," you told him. "The security for this building has quadrupled. I don't see the reason why you need to work so hard."

He kept his eyes closed and sighed. He shook his head. "I can't bring myself to lose concentration."

You stood there, his voice almost making you cry, and took in every thing he said. You hadn't heard him speak in over two years and you felt like it was something to throw a celebration for.

"What happened to me in the past, is the past. I've received therapy for what happened and I promise, I'm okay now. And like I said, the security has quadrupled since that day. There is no reason for you to work like a dog. I'm not saying to stop being my guard, all I'm saying is to stop working so hard. Don't ignore me. Give me some type of attention. I will be happy with anything."

Yuta sighed and shook his head. He looked up at you and his face went hard, going back into his security position that he was in.

That night, you promised yourself you won't give up until Yuta is back to the way he was when he first started talking to you.

The next morning, you woke up, showered, put your favorite perfume on, your favorite lingerie and then put a pink silk robe on top of the red lingerie set that you were wearing. You did your hair in large curls and put some makeup on. Today was the day you were not going to quit until something good happened.

You walked downstairs and saw Yuta standing there. The black combat boots with the black cargo pants and black long sleeve shirt he was wearing made your core throb. He had been wearing the same thing every single day for the past two years but for some reason, it was hitting different that day. You approached him with a smile. 

"Good morning, Yuta," you said to him up close, making sure he could smell your perfume. "You're looking a little tired. Let me massage you."

You got closer to him and began to massage his shoulders. His muscles were hard and your fingers weren't strong enough to give him a good massage. You continued though, for about ten minutes and then stopped. 

"How did that feel?" You asked him. He ignored you. 

"I did my hair and makeup today. How do I look?" You asked him. He took a quick glance at you and then went back to staring at nothing. 

"I got ready just for you," you told him. You got close to him again and ran a finger from his head to his lips and ran the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip.

"These lips are seriously the best," you told him. "They've created a new desire within me when we kissed yesterday. Now, I don't think I can stop thinking about them."

You saw Yuta look at you but when you looked at him, he looked away. You stood on your tiptoes and brought your lips slowly to his. Not once did he look at you. 

Your lips made contact with the corner of his lips and you gave him a gentle peck, your lipstick remaining on his skin. 

"Oh! I almost forgot to show you. I'm wearing something new. Want to see?" You stood right in his line of vision, where he was constantly staring, and made sure he was looking at you. You untied your robe and let it fall off of your shoulders but held it around your waist. You could see Yuta began breathing quicker and that made you feel slightly accomplished. 

You slowly let the robe fall off the rest of your body, showcasing the red lingerie to Yuta. His eyes widened and you smiled at his reaction. You slowly approached him and noticed his eyes were now following you.

"What do you think?" You asked him. He was looking at you, up and down, and he looked almost hungry for you. You turned around and showed him your ass and softly grinded your ass against him. 

"Does the back look okay?" You could now hear his breathing and you giggled. 

"Don't be afraid to touch," you told him. You grabbed both of his hands and placed them on your ass. On his own, he began squeezing your ass. He slapped it once really hard, and you jumped and yelped. 

"Do you like what you see?" You looked at Yuta over your shoulder. He nodded and continued to massage your ass. 

"Answer me out loud," you told him. 

Yuta paused for a second and then aggressively brought your body up against his and wrapped his hand around your throat. You smiled and looked up at him from the side of your eye. 

"Is this what you wanted?" He said in a deep voice. You nodded, your core instantly throbbing and jumping in excitement for what's to come. 

With one hand on your throat, Yuta brought his other hand and slowly slid them inside your lingerie panties.

"This looks so goddamn hot on you," he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose all over your body as he got closer to your swollen bud. 

He slowly slid a finger across your slit and took in a deep breath when he felt how wet you were from just his hand on your throat.

"Fuck, you're so wet. And from what?" You could hear the taunting in his voice and you had never heard anything sexier. 

He brought his now wet finger to your clit, and slowly, he began tracing circles. Your legs instantly bucked and it threw off your balance. Seeing your reaction, he began to go harder. Your legs began to shake and you weren't even close to coming yet. You knew that you wouldn't be able to stand upright when the time did come. 

"Yuta..." you called out to him out of breath. "I don't think I can stand. My legs are shaking too much."

He pulled his hands away from you quickly and before you could turn around to face him, he lifted you up bridal style. He walked the both of you into his room and placed you on his bed. He stood at the edge of his bed, staring at you with a hunger that you've never seen before. 

"Tell me what you want," he demanded. 

That caught you off guard. You had never told someone specifically what you wanted.

"Tell me, or else I won't do anything," he threatened. 

You could feel yourself blushing and you internally groaned. This man just had his hand down your underwear yet you feel like it's an impossible mission to tell him what you want. 

"I-I want you to make me feel good," you said simply. Yuta evilly grinned and then laughed. 

He shook his head. "No, tell me specifically what you want. If you have the confidence to start this, you have the confidence to tell me what you want me to do to you."

He wasn't going to let you get away with not saying it. You closed your eyes, opened them, and looked at him before answering. "I want you to eat me out until I come and then I want you to fuck my brains out until I come again and can't move."

Yuta's eyes dilated that instant and it made him look almost scary. He climbed onto the bed and approached your legs. He laid on his stomach and brought his face close to your core. "Like this?"

You nodded and he placed a kiss on your clitoris through your panties. You could feel the pressure and it made you throw your head back. He continued to kiss you in between your legs and it created a desire that was slowly growing with each second. 

"Please Yuta," you pleaded. 

"Please what?" He asked. He knew exactly what. 

You sucked your teeth in annoyance and removed your underwear yourself, since he wasn't going to do it. He smiled and laughed before going back in between your thighs. 

He placed his lips around your clit, and sucked, causing you to buck into his face. He continued to suck and your legs were shaking while your body began to arch from the bed. 

"Oh fuck, Yuta, that feels so good," you whispered. He placed a finger inside your pussy and you could hear how wet you were. 

"Fuck," you heard Yuta say. He began fucking you with his large finger and continued to suck on your clit. His soft tongue glided against your core of nerves and you could feel your climax approaching fast. 

"Yuta, fuck, I'm going to come," you squeaked. He sucked on your clit harder, his teeth gently touching, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Your body convulsed and your legs shook uncontrollably as you gripped Yuta's hair. He continued to play with your clit and you tried to pull away, but Yuta had a grip on your thighs to keep you near him. 

"Fuck, that was so hot," he told you. 

Yuta pulled away and sat up and waited for you to come to. You slowly sat up and looked at him. His hair was a mess and his lips glistened with your come. He looked sexually delicious and you got up on your knees as well and smashed your lips on his, tasting yourself from his mouth. 

Yuta quickly removed his shirt and you began to unbuckle his belt. He removed his shoes and pants and he was there half naked. You could see his erection tenting his boxers and your little friend downstairs started acting up again. 

Yuta got off the bed and gestured for you to do the same. "Get on your knees," he said. 

You did as he said and he grabbed his belt from the bed. "Give me your wrists."

You gave him your wrists and he used the belt to tie them together. "I want you to suck my cock."

He dropped his boxers to his ankles and his cock flopped out so quick it almost hit you in the face. He looked down and stared at you, waiting for you to start off the blowjob. 

You got closer and reached for him. He smacked your hands and you dropped them. "No hands," he said. 

You got up higher on your knees and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. You let your arms dangle below you and tried your best to suck him off. 

“Fuck yes, you’re such a good girl,” Yuta groaned as he pulled all of your hair into his fist. You continued to bob on his cock, trying to go as deep as you can. Yuta saw you struggling and grabbed your face and began bucking into your mouth. His aggressive thrusts had you gagging and your eyes watering, so Yuta slowed down and then pulled his cock out of your mouth. He bent over and pressed his lips against yours, using his tongue to taste himself inside your mouth. He pulled away and stared at you. 

“Such a beautiful girl, with her makeup running down her eyes,” he said caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Get up,” he said. He helped you get up and he climbed onto the bed. “Ride me.”

Nervously, you awkwardly climbed onto the bed and brought one leg on one side of him and straddled him. Placing your tied up hands on his chest, he helped guide his hard cock towards the entrance of your pussy. 

“Tease the head,” he commanded. You began swaying your hips back and forth and allowed the tip of his cock to get wet with the entrance of your pussy.

“Fuck, I know you’re going to feel good,” Yuta said under his breath. He stopped your hip movements with one hand and with the other, he lowered you down onto his cock. The fullness that began to fill you up made you clench around him. 

“If you do that again, I might just come inside you,” he said. Your eyes rolled back once he was balls deep inside. You hadn’t had any sexual attention in a few years and this was definitely better than your toys. 

“Fuck my cock,” Yuta said. You began bouncing your ass up and down his cock as your chest pressed against his. You made eye contact with him and held it there. Yuta began biting his lip and his eyes rolled back until his eyes shut.

“Fuck, your cock is so good Yuta,” you told him. He opened his eyes and grabbed onto your neck and began to roughly pound up into you. The slight oxygen loss and pleasure filling your body quickly built up your climax and before you knew it, you were shaking and clenching on Yuta’s cock. Cursing under his breath, he thrust harder into you, wanting to feel you clench all the way through. Without a warning and disconnecting, Yuta flipped you over so you were underneath him. His large hand continued to stay wrapped around your throat. He undid the belt that tied your wrists together and freed your hands. Your legs wanted to close on their own but with Yuta in between them, they couldn’t. 

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet. You’re going to come on my cock one more time,” he said. He wasn’t going soft and was aggressively pounding into you. Every thrust knocked air out of you and every time you tried to open your eyes, they ended up rolling back into your head. Your gripped onto his forearm, subtly wanting him to choke you harder. 

“Choke me harder please,” you asked him. He smiled down at you and did just as you asked.

“I’m going to come again, oh my god,” you whispered to him. He quickly reached down in between both of your bodies and began rubbing your clit as his cock pounded your pussy and his hand cut some of your oxygen off. You instantly stopped breathing and your gripped onto the closest thing nearby. You arched your back and your legs began to shake immensely. The pleasure that was once little, grew stronger and spread throughout your whole body. Your eyes stood close and your climax hit you hard. Your body convulsed and your pussy clenched hard around Yuta’s cock. You were so immersed with your own climax that you didn’t even know that Yuta’s came as well. 

“Fuck,” Yuta sputtered. The two of you came down from your highs and you finally opened your eyes. You looked up at Yuta who was staring at you with a small smile on his face. You smiled up at him and brought his lips down for a kiss. He pulled away and quickly got off of you and let you lay there to catch your breath. As he got off the bed, you noticed several scratches leading from his shoulders to his back. 

“Oh my god, Yuta, did I do that to you?” He turned around and you pointed at his back. He turned and looked at his back in the mirror and his eyes widened. He checked out the long scratch marks on his back and then smiled widely. 

“I love getting souvenirs,” he said to you. You blushed as he smiled at you and you couldn’t help but giggle.

He walked away into the bathroom and a few moments later, walk out with a rag. He gently helped clean you up, making sure to be considerate of your sensitive area. Once finished, he and you went underneath his covers. You turned to him and cuddled into his chest. 

“Are you happy now?” He asked you. You nodded and looked up at him with a smile.

“Don’t ignore me anymore, please?” You pleaded. He kissed you on the head, his lips lingering for a few seconds.

“Okay. I promise, but when I have to be serious about my job, you have to let me. Okay?” You nodded in response and he gave you one more forehead kiss. 

After laying down in his bed for a while, he took a deep breath that caused you to look at him. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“Ready for round two?”

[rae-arts777]

Platonic headcanon for abigail and makoto please?

Platonic Abby X Makoto

They have a routine. Get coffee and talk shit about Laurent.

They wingman each other.

They share clothes so much, they’ve forgotten what clothes belong to who.

Abby got him to wear a dress, she hypes him up to make him feel more confident.

Makoto doesn’t need to hype Abby up cause she’s already confident, but he does it still. She secretly enjoys it but won’t admit it.

Makoto learned Abby’s native language, so they can talk to each other without anyone else knowing what they’re saying. Sometimes they would be having a normal conversation, but give Cythina and Laurent dirty looks, like if they were talking about them. Cythina and Laurent hate it when they do that.

Abby has a collection of stuff animals only Makoto knows about. He always gets her ones with pouting faces. When he goes to Abby’s place, they sit in a pile of stuff animals and watch movies.

Horror movies turn into comedy movies when they watch it together. They got kicked out of a theater cause they kept laughing during the movie.

They’re always throwing food into each other’s mouth. Across the room, across the couch. It’s usually like when one has some food and the other is “over here” and opens their mouth. Abby never misses, Makoto misses sometimes.

They watched Friends together. Abby got him a coffee cup that says “you’re the Rachel to my Monica”. Makoto loved it but said he was a Chandler. Abby disagrees “you’re a Rachel mixed with a Joey”

They go hiking together. Makoto tried rock climbing but let’s say that being dangled from the Hollywood sign ignited a fear of heights in him. He got stuck on a ledge crying and Abby had to coax him over.

Abby bullies him, but will murder anyone who dares tries to bully him. (She’s looking at you Laurent)

Abby taught him how to fight. They train about twice every month.

Abby out drinks him every time. Drinking nights always end with her having to take care of him. If she’s feeling nice, she’ll hold his hair back when he pukes. But sometimes she waits outside the bathroom and pats his back with a broom “there there”

Abby is bad when it comes to comforting him. If Makoto starts crying, she’ll just rub his back and listen to him go off.

The first time Makoto saw Abby cry, he freaked out. “Oh god you’re crying....uhhh...” he patted her head “there there? This feels wrong”

They don’t have to talk to have a conversation. They can make certain noises and give looks, immediately knowing what the other one means. Another way they talk in front of people without them knowing what they’re saying. Also greatly annoys Laurent and Cythina.

When they bicker, Abby always chooses violence.

Abby has him in her contacts as “Virgin 🌸”

Makoto has her in his contacts as “Angry Germlin 💀” (Abby beat him up when she found out)

Code name for Laurent “Boomer”, code name for Cythina “Bimbo”

In the Team Confidence group chat, Makoto and Abby sometimes blow it up with memes or tiktoks. It’s gotten to the point where there’s a seperate group chat without Makoto and Abby.

Speaking of TikTok, yes they make dancing TikToks when they’re very bored.

They’ve listen to Girls In Bikinis over a million times.

They get high together a lot. They’ll be sitting in one of their apartments, high, blasting chemical romance or Poppy. Also lots of pizza.

Best friend trip to Amsterdam. Neither of them remember half their trip considering they were either drunk or high.

Don’t call Makoto your best friend, Abby will deck you, he’s her best friend not yours.

Makoto is actually very protective over her. He has master the cold death state that cuts your soul, that makes your skin crawl. Even though he knows she can protect herself, he still wants to protect her.

Makoto is the only one who can pull her away from a fight. There have been times he’s had to rip her off of someone and throw her over his shoulder, or dragging her out of places.

They have matching best friend hoodies.

When Makoto moved back to Japan, he got them friendship lamps. Abby said it was stupid and cheesy. Abby will text him if he doesn’t change the lamp colour after a long time. “I changed it red this morning, you haven’t changed the colour or tap back. Are you ok?” (She really loves the lamps and gets mad if he doesn’t use it on his end)

Abby gets offended if he doesn’t message back or reply to something she sends. “I was sleeping bitch 💀” “I don’t care, you tell me that meme is funny or else”

Most of the time Makoto will hold her back she charges into a fight, but other times, he holds her things so she can fight.

If anyone wants to date Makoto, they have to get Abby’s approval.

If Makoto is going through something or is somewhere where he really needs another person, Abby will be there in under 10 seconds. “I’m sad” “open your door I’m here with McDonalds” “HUH?!”

Abby ended up moving to Japan and lives in the building Makoto lives in. She lives a floor under him (she still expects him to use the friendship lamps)

They both have copy of each other’s keys to each other’s places. So now they just walk into each other’s places whenever they want.

Makoto sometimes comes home and will find Abby’s shoes at the door. Maybe some of his food eaten. He find her on his bed on her phone. “How long have you been here?” “2 hours”

If Abby doesn’t want to get hit on, she’ll hold his hand. Makoto knows what it means so he goes along until they leave the area away from the guys hitting on her.

Sunday’s are brunch days. Makoto gets a robe on and will walk to her apartment with the champagne. Abby supplies the orange juice and kitchen. Makoto makes pancakes. And they’ll eat and watch reality TV.

On her periods Makoto takes care of her. He’ll go buy stuff for her, he keeps extra pads and tampons in his car for her just in case.

If they get into a fight, Abby always turns the friendship lamp white. When she’s calm down and ready to talk, she’ll turn it green. For Makoto, red means “I’m still not ready”, pink means “I’m ready”

Some nights, they’ll be laying on the floor staring at the ceiling. They high off of life and just talk all night. It’s just very nice and comforting for both of them.

Sometimes they’ll stick their heads out the window and scream at each other. Also throwing and tossing things to each other cause they’re too lazy to walk to the other’s apartment for something.

I have a lot more but I live for their friendship

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (8) (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre:  family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: cursing, mature content, angst

A/N: This one was so easy and fun to write frankly! Thank you so much for letting me know your opinions for the last chap, it motivates me like 1000x more! If you could tell me what you thought about this one as well, it would be nice! Thank you 🎉 And sorry I edited this one, but Im sure there will be typos and sentences that made sense in my head while I edited but they actually dont, apologies! 

Tags:  @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt  @luvhtears @ shesdreaminginoverdose (if you want to be tagged/untagged let me know! Im always open^^)

-

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8

Once again, you entered your apartment in silence, except the few times Baekhyun let out a tired, exasperated sigh. Your phone was blowing up with messages from your boss; honestly, you didn't understand why was he even trying to contact you after everything that happened. By now you knew you wouldn't be able to save your work spot. Not after what Baekhyun did. And here you were, worrying about not telling your darn boss about your pregnancy.

In the safety of your apartment full of love, you were able to feel. The hotness of emotions was coming back to your bloodstream, the numbness from throwing up and the adrenaline of the fight -it was all palpable in fading touches.

This time, it was you who let out a tired sigh, but you felt the burn behind your eyes yet again as you made your way to the bedroom to collect some clean clothes before making a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring Baekhyun's angry expression as you passed by him.

Before you could close the door, he murmured your name in a warning.

“What.”

“You know we need to talk, right?” he snapped, turning to you. He spotted your bloodshot eyes, full of unshed tears and he assumed you weren't seeing him properly. He was right.

You saw him blurry like a modern art painting. Pretty, yet so… unreadable, almost worrying at how you couldn't see to the depths of it. “I know.”

At your terse answer, he clenched his jaw and you blinked, letting the tears roll down your cheeks just to see the tick in his jaw, the set of his chin almost scary. “Go,” he sighed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. “We will talk once you're out of there.”

Without waiting for your response, he turned abruptly but to your surprise, he reached for the front door, swinging it open. You closed your eyes just in time for it to slam shut. And he was gone.

-

Quietly, you took a long shower, thinking he wouldn't be back until… well, until he deemed good to be back. Which could be whenever.

Honestly speaking, you never had such a big, troubling fight before. Never. Yes, you did fight, but he never left you. Not at that hour, anyway. And you were also never pregnant. So this was one of a kind problem you found yourself in, and as you tried not to sob through your entire shower, your mind instead stormed through options you had with what happened.

Except, you had none.

You were out of job.

Your boyfriend, a hapkido master, used violence on your boss.

Your boyfriend could be reported.

You lied to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend… was mad at you. Livid.

Was this the end of your relationship?

No.

He wouldn't let go of you that easily, and the realisation of that made you sob right then and there. The relationship you two shared was stronger than any of your doubts that were scaring you; it was stronger than any bad word, any bad action, because you two were more than that and your connection was stronger than that. As much as it hurt you that he left without telling you, you knew him well enough to know he would be coming back to you. You knew he would forgive you and he wouldn't break up with you. Not when you were carrying his children. Baekhyun was much, much more than an angry emotion and a protective action.

And you were pregnant with him.

Three kids. Three.

“Fuck,” you sighed as you closed your eyes under the hot water, wanting it to drown out all of  your intruding thoughts. 

If there was an issue you two genuinely had to worry about, it was how you would feed them and yourselves. Would you even survive bearing three children till the end? Would you survive giving birth? You were way past the first trimester which meant you were over the dangerous period, but you knew better than that. Bearing one child was a constant risk. Three? Definitely playing with fire.

Not wanting to create a huge water bill, you reluctantly turned off the shower even though your body screamed for more. Tired and aching, you dried yourself up, not bothering to put on a lotion; smells had been playing with your stomach too much and you literally despised and hated the constant throwing up game.

It was just ten minutes after your shower; you were lying in the bed, tucked in and ready to call it a day, when Baekhyun came back. His timing was perfect and it meant he didn't wander off in the dark streets to let his frustrations out. He probably went for a short walk.

Some shuffling later, he appeared in the doorway, the small lamp next to the mattress you were lying on gently illuminating your tired self. You didn't dare to look at your boyfriend, but you knew you had to do it. He was expecting you to. He was not in the place to beg for forgiveness now. If it was anyone, it was you.

Sighing, you pressed your lips together as you sat up slowly, looking him dead in the eyes; those dark eyes that had still some leftover heavy showers in them.

“Baekhyun,” you started and he kept your gaze daringly, leaning against the doorframe. When he didn't speak, you pursed your lips. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have told you.”

Silence.

“I will need more than that.” Was his cold answer.

“Don't you want to sit down?”

He was quiet for a moment, but then he crossed his arms. You knew better than to test him. When it came to irrational stuff you did, he was using the “I'm older” type of power against you, and you couldn't argue with that. “What did he make you sign?”

Once again, it was quiet. He was burning you with his scorching gaze, and you felt your cheeks heat up in complete embarrassment and self-loathing. But you needed to be honest. “I-I'm not sure if it was in the contract,” you started, trying not to stutter, “but he made me… Ehm, I was not supposed to fall pregnant. In exchange of him promoting me at work.”

As expected, Baekhyun let nothing to be read from his face. “Did you sign the contract and not read what it said?”

Please, make this stop. “Yes. But I really didn't think that-t-that-”

He spoke your name, cold and harsh, obviously upset. “You didn't think what?! Just how irresponsible it is not to read the conditions of a piece of fucking paper that can be used against you, huh?!”

Slowly, you tried to breathe. This was necessary. He had to let it out.

“You could have signed him owning you for all I know! Fucking hell,” he sighed, now running his hand through his hair wildly, turning away from you for a moment before sharply turning back, startling you. “And you just wanted to do it because what- you wanted more money? Is it all about money for you?! Since when did you become so fucking materialistic that you would stand in your own damn dreams!!!”

Tears, tears, tears, and he was completely right. Opening your mouth, he snapped.

“No, don't speak! I don't want to hear it right now! Fuck,” he murmured, and paced in front of you, his jaw set strong. “You weren't even pregnant when it all happened, why would you want to get to more money so badly?!”

“I wanted to provide for us as well!” you shouted back now, but your voice was so shaky you felt like you sounded pathetic. He had to know, though. “We are coming from a low-class background, Baekhyun! Why is it so bad for me to want to do more when I am perfectly able to do so?”

“Because you would have ruined your own dreams while chasing something so artificial!” he shouted back, stepping closer to where you were sitting, but you didn't budge from the sudden movement. “Money was, and money will be! But us creating a family together won't be a forever opportunity! And you were willing to just hang it up for, what, 300.000 won more? Don't be ridiculous! Plus! He is a fucking arsehole! If he isn't touching you up, he is treating you like complete shit; you deserve better than any of this! And if I could have, I would have beaten him up long ago.”

You averted his gaze. His words were driven by his love for you, you knew that much. So as much as you wanted to be offended and hurt, he was hundred percent right. Everything he just threw into your face was correct and you couldn't defend yourself, because he would come at you right away.

“Is this really everything our relationship means to you?” he asked, a bit more quietly, but his tired tone was scarring your heart. You dared to look back at him, to see him staring on the ground, one hand on his hip.

“No,” you said and you cried again, “it isn't and you know it, too.”

“Do you think I am incapable of taking care of us? Of the kids?” he looked at you, huge puppy eyes on full display as he slowly let his guard down. “Because all of this just proves you don't trust me as the breadwinner of this household.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your arguments, but ended up going against it. “Baekhyun, we aren't in a situation where I need to stay home, clean and do nothing while you get to earn money as if it was some easy thing to do. I am, and I will continue to work,” you replied resolutely despised tears rolling down your cheeks, “and it isn't you as a breadwinner, but us.”

The society surely was patriarchal, so if you dared to talk to your father in this manner, he would have slapped you. There was no such thing as a woman who got to go against her husband or brother.

Baekhyun, however, wasn't your father or your brother. He wasn't even your husband, and when you saw his troubled look, he finally let himself sink down on the mattress. He was your kind, loving boyfriend. “I already said this,” he started, “but I am not, and I won't keep you inside the house, locked up, while waiting for me to return to you after work. I won't tell you what to do, you know I never did,” he said in a more friendly manner, but it still beared authority. “I respect you as a woman,” he said, speaking your name softly, “and you are my everything.” His hand reached out to caress your cheek that was still wet from your tears. “I need to see you only smiling, happily, but I cannot accept you lying to me like this again. I thought we had been together long enough for us to earn each other's trust, and you going like that behind my back and signing bullshit was nothing but stupid and irresponsible. Especially because your pregnancy was jeopardized like that. You can't be under stress like that, sweetie.”

Hearing him calling you a pet name, you knew the war was over and he finally was on the positive side. His authoritative voice still kept you on edge, so you didn't throw yourself at him just yet.

“If he kicked you out, which I'm pretty much convinced he did, I wouldn't be against you not working until you give birth.”

“Baekhy-”

“Shh, let me speak, honey,” he said quietly and shuffled himself closer, sitting right opposite you cross-legged  as he took your hands in his. “Listen. I know you know it, but having three babies under your heart is a dangerous situation,” he whispered loudly, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips. “It's dangerous especially for you. You are very tired after work, and you come home late and don't get enough rest. Sukyeong even told me you don't always keep up with your meals, and I don't like it one bit.” The way his lips moved against the skin of your hand was soothing you. “Accept that he threw you out, before I file a lawsuit against him for harassing you and making you sign nonsense contracts, and stay home. Find a part-time job instead, but you need to rest, darling.”

“Baekhyun,” you finally spoke and he hummed, as he let your hands fall to his lap. His eyes were now so gentle and full of worry. “I am so sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have done any of that, but please know I did it with good intentions.”

Baekhyun went silent for a bit, analysing your face, your tired features and pale skin, which only reminded him you had been throwing up today and dealing with the situation in the restaurant. Suddenly, he felt so guilty for making you go through all of it in just one evening, (although you were responsible for it, too). Let alone he just shouted at you for good ten minutes. He couldn't even imagine what other things you must have been feeling the past weeks, given how your body was changing day by day. “It's alright, babe, it's alright. I understand. C'mere,” he whispered, opening his arms and you threw yourself at him, making him almost fall back on his back. You snuggled your face into his neck, and he let out a satisfied breath, caressing your back gently. “I'm sorry for shouting at you. But I'm not sorry for punching that idiot. He deserved it.”

You were looking at the skin on his neck and how it disappeared under his shirt that had the first two buttons undone. “Thank you for standing up for me, honey.”

“My baby,” he murmured lovingly into your hair before he gave it a kiss. “My only baby.”

-

You woke up to slow, gentle caresses on your small belly as your shirt was ridden up just a tiny bit, Baekhyun not wanting to wake you just yet. He was behind you, wanting to spoon you as soon as he washed up and fell in bed next to you last night. It didn't take long for both of you to fall asleep, as surprising as that was. The events tired you out, and he wanted you to sleep as much as you could.

He kissed your clothed shoulder before he nosed your neck and buried his face in your hair, while his caresses didn't stop. Letting his eyes close for a moment, he brought his front just a little closer to you, his leg wrapping around yours that were politely connected. His hand absentmindedly wandered further up before going dangerously low, sending shots of pleasure down your core without even paying attention. You knew he would soon realize his effect on you, because you definitely felt like squirming in his hold.

His hand lazily dragged upwards almost touching the underside of your breast when you couldn't keep it in anymore, breathing in sharply just for his hand to stop right under the-

“Oh, I finally have you awake,” he murmured, his husky voice sending another set of chills down your spine.

You couldn't help but smile, happy you woke up to this. The fluid down there was saying something else, though.

“Slept well?” he murmured into your ear, as he continued dragging his hand up. You groaned softly when he groped your breast as he pushed himself even more into you, and you felt it. He was so ready for you.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, enjoying the massage as he proceeded to nibble on your ear from behind, your eyes closed in pleasure. “You?”

“I realised we didn't keep our promise, babygirl.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when your realised what he was implying.

“So, is my beautiful lady still horny enough to go the remaining two rounds?” His voice was so deep, you felt yourself scrunching your eyes shut, the adrenaline quickly making its way into your bloodstream. “We will take it,” he murmured and this time his hand was going down, down, down, the panties the only barrier from his wandering hand as he lifted the hem of them teasingly, testing just how ready you were for him, “very slowly, my dear.”

His fingers played with you just for few seconds before he pushed his middle finger inside, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you leaned back into him.

“It's so early, but you are already like this,” he continued while your head was swimming, his ministrations nothing short of slow, yet so pleasurable, “all for me.”

Your insides were squeezing painfully, and he wasn't moving faster, nor did he have the intentions. “Baekhyun,” you said, trying not to pant too loudly, “I just want you.”

“Hmm? Speak louder, I'm still sleepy.”

“You're such a tease,” you whispered in disbelief before surprising him by reaching behind you to touch him exactly where he needed you. He hissed, his eyes looking at your profile to see the smirk you had on your face.

“I wanted it to be slow, romantic and all of that,” he mumbled before pushing your hand away while he sat up, causing you to fall on your back. As soon as his hand was out of your panties, you felt a pang of frustration before he covered your body with his, his face close to yours as you tried to calm down from him fingering you so sensually.

“I want none of that,” you replied as you grabbed his face for a heated kiss, “I want you inside me, just about now.”

“Needy, naughty…” he muttered with a flirty smirk as he teased you at your opening, causing both of you to groan. “Are you ready, sweetie?” And he still made sure you were okay with him.

“I'm always ready for you,” you whispered, spreading your legs even more for him, as he pushed himself in, your eyes instantly closing in wonderful pleasure only he was able to give you.

He stayed inside, buried and panting into your hot mouth as he rested his forehead on yours. “Sweetheart, open your eyes for me, hm? I love you, you know that?”

“I know that. And I love you, do you know that?” you reciprocated, smiling up at him only to be rewarded with his smiley eyes as he pushed back before diving right in few more times, where he hit your sweet spot. Moaning loudly, he dragged his face to suck on your neck before he took one of your hands, intertwining them with his as he pushed it up above your head.

“I know that. You are my angel,” he said, finishing it with a guttural groan as he felt you pulsing around him, knowing you were about to cross the edge and he was not far behind you.  “Come for me. We have another round,” he breathed before kissing you passionately, messily, moanily.

You mentioned you wanted none of slow. And in the second round, he gave you just that. Baekhyun became ruthless, just before whispering: “Are you riding?” And he was fast to change positions. He helped you straddle him although you definitely had the energy to move and climb by yourself, given your crazy hormonal drive.

“That was just a warm-up session.” He warned, not waiting for you. Your screams, his groans, the heat, it was all so fucking amazing you were left in a complete bliss. You were fast to catch up to him, moving your hips while he was watching from beneath you, eyes dark, glazed over and completely smitten by you.

“You're the best,” you breathed out as you dragged your hands to you breasts, but Baekhyun wanted none of that. He swiftly sat up, his chest almost pressed to yours while you continuously rode him, up and down,  your hands being pushed aside just to be switched with his as he added his sinful lips to the swell of your breasts.

“You're a goddess, mummy,” he muttered, leaving a wet trail on your chest while his hands squeezed and massaged your mounds.

“Baekhyun!” you scolded, and despite the sweat and the delightful pull in your belly approaching yet again, you blushed; the blush definitely caused by his choice of words.

He looked into your eyes, his ones proud and lustful. “It's true,” he muttered, groaning as you sank down exceptionally hard, almost falling onto his sturdy chest. His hands were now squeezing your sides, helping you out, unable to keep the needy touches to himself when you looked so gorgeous like that. He squeezed your arching body to his sweaty chest.

A quick glance at your swollen belly that he made sure you noticed, his hand came to touch against it and you were gone. He caressed you there gently while swallowing your moans as you grabbed his face, kissing him, your hair falling, creating an intimate curtain just around where your mouths were connected. You still had an unearthly energy to help your boyfriend out to his orgasm, not wanting to be in the ecstasy alone, and as much as Baekhyun needed the release, his hands slid across your sides, holding your hips to stop their movement.

“Enough, baby girl,” he whispered into your mouth, leaning back ever so slightly to see your flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead. “I don't want you to hurt yourself.” He was still panting and you swore to god he looked so handsome with his hair glued to his forehead, puffy cheeks. You might have gotten horny again.

“Come with me,” you insisted, attempting to to move again but he bit his lip, a cheeky glint in his eyes, and he held your back tenderly, moving you to lie on your back, while slipping out of you. Hissing, he stood up quickly.

“I'll be right back.”

Trying to calm your breath, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling in your aching body. A knowing smile played on your lips; Baekhyun would rather get a cold shower then another orgasm from you, just because he was worried about you. If that wasn't some darn good self-control, you didn't know what it could be.

Just as he promised, he was back soon, a towel in his hands to help you clean up. Once done, he lied back down next to you and you immediately curled up by his chest. “That was amazing.”

“Hmm, you are amazing,” he said. After a little pause, he asked: “You feeling alright?”

“Perfect. But I could go again, you know? You don't have to be so careful with me.”

He snorted as he played with the ends of your hair. “Jeez, you already have my baby! Actually three of them! Slow down, woman.”

You both laughed heartily, and he loved the sound.

“But I want to have youuu, my love,” you whined.

“You have me. You always have me. I'm yours. I'm just simply yours.”

A/N: just to clarify, this isnt the end, we still have quite some things to get through actually - more drama ㅠㅠ! Just didnt want to leave you on a cliffhanger. Hope you liked this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Any feedback is very much appreciated  🥺 🥺

[1zashreena1]

Princess and the Migraine -7

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: When Princess needs his help Murder Panther undergoes a trial by fire and comes out soft and gooey. Like a marshmallow. A really sexy, highly dangerous marshmallow.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and 'the code is more like guidelines' outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

NO SMUT, usage of names, mild groping (he’s still Diego), illness and medical establishments, plus size woman+fit man, secretly competent Diego!, helpless Princess, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings... I mean, its DIEGO

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I'm not a fan of "plot" so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​​ @symbiont13​​ @nicke0115​​ @bunnykjm​​ @rosee-sensuelle​​ @girlpornparadise​​ @mandoplease​​ @heresathreebee​​ @xxsteph-enrixx​​ @jetiikad​​ @joalsglasses​​ @mutantcookiesecrets​​ @demoncatstone​​ @squidlywiddly87​​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​ @poeedamerons​

gif by @nicke0115​

Diego had received the normal text from his Princess, a simple and efficient 'here' attached to a selfie. This Friday the selfie was in his bed, that mane of ringlets tossed up over the pillow and those deep blue eyes half closed in relaxation. There was nothing sexual about it, hell, he couldn't even see her lips, and it still made him half hard. What if I could see that every day? In person, right next to her? I must convince her to quit that stupid little job.

Groaning softly, he flips the phone to be held horizontally in his left hand while the right presses the heel of his palm into his burgeoning erection. He cannot wait to bury himself into that soft little body; fingers, tongue, dick, anything. She is the softest woman he has ever touched, even her tiny little feet are soft, it is maddening. He slouches down into the backseat to relieve some of the pressure from his pants.

"You want me to stop anywhere, boss?" Bastian asks from the driver's seat. Bastian is a good kid, he follows orders, he is efficient, he even anticipates needs like this, offering to get food on the way home. He looks nothing like his uncle. Julio always did say that his little sister liked blondes and Bastian was living proof.

"No, I will see what she wants to do first." Diego wants to get his hands on Princess more than he wants food.

Julio chuckles from the front seat, "His dinner is already at home, eh?" He's been with Diego for twenty years, he knows how this goes down.

"One can only hope." Diego mutters as he flips through the 'Pretty Princess' photo album in the phone's gallery. Sure, there are the expected compromising pictures (much to his delight, she enjoys posing seductively at any level of undress), but many are shots of her laughing, being excited at a new restaurant, snuggled into his side at some scenic location perfect for a couples' pic.

A couple. Is that what they are? Does he want that? (Yes) Can I have that? (I will).  He hasn't wanted any of what used to be his regular girls in… six months. Sure, Franchesca and, and whatever-her-face-is accompanied him to some club events, he even let Franchesca blow him in the car. But it wasn't until he closed his eyes and saw another gaze, drowning blue and dark as ink, that he came. Vocally. Franchesca at least knew better than to comment. That was the last time.

He wants this. He wants Princess. His Princess. How, he has no idea, but he assumes he'll figure it out. He has figured out how to survive his sister and his profession all the way to age 42. He has figured it out so far and he has no plans to stop now. 

That book about relationships and autism spectrum really helped, maybe there are other similar books that he can get. Is there a book on how to get women to admit feelings? There has to be a book on something so… unusual, yes?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The elevator dings and he steps out before the doors are fully open. The common area is dark and quiet. "Princess?" He calls. Nothing.

Maybe she is still in the bed waiting for me. The image throws him into rapid motion; the jacket is tossed over the back of the sofa and he pulls the gun out of his belt to place it on the breakfast bar as he passes by. With huge strides, he hurdles up the stairs and into the bedroom. 

The small lamp on the nightstand is at the lowest setting, turned to a faint aqua color. She does love fiddling with the ridiculous color options. Her bag is on the floor in front of the closet along with her purse, shoes, and a trail of clothing to the bed.. Odd, she always places everything just so. Never just, just dropped… anywhere.

 Princess is in the bed… but she is asleep. 

Diego pushes his shoes off and pads over to her side of the bed. Her glasses are on the nightstand and next to them the gemstone ring he gave her is threaded onto one of the diamond tennis bracelet for safekeeping. It makes him smile, how thoughtfully she cares for his gifts.

"Princess?" She winces at his soft rumble and cracks one eye open. "What's wrong?" He reaches out to touch her hair and she flinches away. Ouch, what the hell?

She holds out a hand, he takes that instead. "Baby?" Her voice is so quiet he can barely hear her. Something is very wrong. 

Kneeling to the floor, Diego rests his chin on the bed directly in front of her face and waits. He has learned that if it's something physical that is bothering her he can simply wait her out. Each time that he has tried this it resulted in a shorter wait period the next time and a less agitated Princess. He's not sure if he is training her or if maybe it's the other way around.

Her fingers curl around his thumb, small but strong. Finally, she opens her mouth, "I have a migraine. Was fine earlier, but police lights. On whatever bridge. We sat for like ten minutes, Bastian couldn't get out of the traffic. I took medicine, but I need to sleep." She pauses, her eyes closed tightly and brow furrowed. Her breathing is shallow, like she is trying very hard not to cry. "I'm sorry, baby." She whimpers, and then a real tear does escape.

"No no no, Princess. No crying. Please do not." The absolute last thing Diego can deal with today is that pretty little face all red and messy with tears. She sniffles but doesn't move away when he wipes the tears with his thumbs. Those blue eyes are watching him very closely.

"Are--" she licks her lips and tries again, "Are you mad at me?" Her high voice cracks at the end and she blinks back more tears. Apprehension is coming off of her in waves.

Diego cocks his head, trying to understand where this question comes from. "You… think I will be mad at you for being ill?" Slowly, he leans closer to her while she nods tightly with a tiny 'mm hmm' of affirmation. When she huddles into herself, almost hiding under the covers, understanding begins to bloom. "Have other people gotten mad at you for becoming ill?"

Princess swallows hard, her eyes slide away from his. She is embarrassed. Someone has managed to shame her into feeling guilty about a hereditary illness she has no control over. He can feel rage climbing up inside his chest.

"Y-y-yeah. It's really inconvenient. I ruin p-plans like this. I'm sorry." Her voice is muffled by the covers. She picks at the stitching on the sheet, snapping her nail back and forth over the threads in a nervous tic.

Right now, I am doing the training because this needs to be broken. Immediately. He takes a deep breath, "No, Princess. No one can be mad at you for suffering from a condition you cannot control. That is ridiculous. I could never be angry at you for getting sick." He tries very hard to sound soothing and not like he's about to reprimand a ludicrous child. Slowly, he pulls the sheet down until her entire face is visible. Her eyes flick back to him, then away again. "Aqui." She obeys the command thoughtlessly, locking on his gaze. Diego raises a brow in question.

Princess huffs a soft sigh, then whispers, "Okay." Her face smooths out, eyebrows straightening and lips relaxing back to their normal fullness. Her little nose even unwrinkles as she eases. She must decide she buys it, because next she timidly asks, "Will you bring me a Coke?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diego gets her settled with her phone (which he silences) and the small bottle of Coke (opened downstairs so the noise doesn't hurt her). When she pulled herself upright to drink he realized she was still dressed so he got her into pajamas, it was odd putting clothing onto her instead of taking it off. She kept her eyes closed and allowed him to move her around like a ragdoll, relaxed and trusting.

The tightness in his chest only worsened when she crawled into his lap and nuzzled into him with a plaintive, "Hold me." Princess wasn't really a cuddly type of girl, so he knew this was bad. After ten minutes she was done with the 'mushy stuff' as she referred to it. He let her get situated then went downstairs with instructions to check on her in two hours.

Diego spent the time researching migraines, her medication, and other possible treatments. Julio came and went with dinner, cheesesteaks that Princess had mentioned long before the police strobe lights. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The required two hours have passed, Diego swears it was two days long, so he heads upstairs to check on her. Princess is on her stomach, head turned to the left, and her mouth hanging open. His hand lands softly on her shoulder while he calls her, "Princess?" 

Nothing happens.

He tries again, just a little louder, "Princess? Hey, mirame."  Still no response. She is a light sleeper, this is highly unusual. And he is beginning to be concerned. 

Diego nudges her shoulder, then, when he gets nothing, pushes until she rolls over. She doesn't even make a sound. Shit. Shit shit shit. 

"Hey! Bicki! Wake up, come on." Her lashes flutter and she makes a whiny noise. Sitting on the bed, he hauls her into his lap so she leans back against his left arm. Tapping her cheek with his right hand gets a semi-verbal response.

"Dieg.. Where. I'm. Can't." She slurs and burrows into his chest. "Too brigh. Is brigh." Her voice is so quiet he can barely understand her. Her tiny hands are fisted in his shirt, hanging on for dear life. 

He grips her jaw in his right hand and turns her head to face him. "Princess? Can you tell me?" She's struggling through his name, like her tongue is too big for her mouth. "Yes, it's me. It's your Diego. We're home, in bed. You're safe." Her brow furrows as she processes this information. It takes three times longer than it should, he hasn't seen anyone this fucked up in a long time. Its terrifying. 

Finally, her hands in his shirt ease their grip and she looks around the room. "Diego?" She is squinting hard, blinking slowly.

"Right here, Princess." Turning her to face him, he can see that her eyes are completely unfocused, pupils so small they're barely visible in a sea of grayish blue. Her hands come up to touch his face and she makes a tiny noise of distress.

"Baby. Can't see. I can't." Her whisper fades as she goes limp, eyes rolling up. Her breathing stays even, if shallow, so he doesn't panic. Yet. She said she does this, that she will black out. Her whole family does it. Her sisters, her niece, her mom… HER MOM. 

Hit by sudden inspiration, Diego whips around to her phone on the nightstand and snatches it up. Her mom. Her mom would know what to do, right? Easing her deadweight back to the bed, he makes sure she is breathing easily, then turns back to her phone. He unlocks her cell with his left hand while digging his out of his right pocket. There, at the top of her contacts labeled 'Emergency', Mom. Dad. Diego. He ignores the sharp flutter in his chest at seeing himself as her emergency contact, and opens up the Mom item. Before he can second guess himself, he taps in the number in on his own phone and hits the green button. She better know who I am or this is going to be a disaster. 

It rings twice before a remarkably similar voice answers, "Hello?"

Shit, now what?

"Hello, is, is this Kat?" Fuck. Shit. Damnit Diego.

"Yes…?" It really is startling how similar their voices are.

"I do not know if you know who I am, my name is Diego and I--"

"Diego! Ohhh, I know who you are." She laughs lowly, just like Princess. He notes the fact that she recognizes him instantly for later discussion.

"I apologize for calling like this, but I need your help." He tries not to sound scared. He does not get scared.

"What's wrong? Is she okay? Are you okay?" Apparently he failed. Her mom, Kat, knows instantly that something is amiss.

"She said she had a migraine and took her medicine. Now, I cannot get her to wake up fully and she keeps repeating that she can't see. I don't know what to do, I've never seen her like this. Please." It all comes out in a rush, he hopes she can understand his rapidly thickening accent.

"Okay, first of all, take a deep breath." Do I sound that panicked? Should I be panicked?!? "This isn't that unusual for her more severe migraines. As long as she keeps breathing. Is her breathing fairly normal?"

He watches her chest rise and fall at regular intervals. "I, err, yes? It's a bit fast, but even." 

"Good. That's good, Diego. She is not going to like this, but you have to take her to the ER."

"Okay. I can do that. Yes."  Wait, what do you do when you take someone to the ER?

"Okay, listen. You have to tell them that she's had these since she was a kid. She takes the highest tablet dosage of imitrex, tell them what time she took it. She needs the shots, yes she has had them before, no drug allergies. Under no circumstances do you tell them that she blacked out or they will admit her. Also, no chance of pregnancy, they'll ask that. If they think she might be pregnant then they won't treat her."

THEY WHAT.

"What do you mean? Won't give her the shots? If she might be pregnant? What shots?" Diego is very confused. This is a lot of information in a very short time and all of it is very important. Why would that matter?

"Hospitals will not give medications to pregnant women. Only tylenol, generally. And that isn't going to help." Her mom sounds like this topic has been thoroughly debated in their household. 

"Okay. No pregnancy. No black out. Have been having these her whole life, need shots, have had those before. I have the bottle of ...imitrex? I should take it along?" He ticks each item off on a mental list. "Actually, could you text all of... that?" He most definitely does not want them to admit her.

"Of course. And taking the bottle is perfect, that's quick thinking. What time did she take it?"

What time did she take that?? She had already taken it when he got home. "Sometime before seven…? Yes. Between six and seven."

"One last thing, I want you to be prepared. Its two shots, a sedative and a pain medication, but they'll put it in her butt."

That's… interesting. "In her butt?? She won't even let me put something in her butt." He mutters petulantly.

Her mom is sputtering with laughter. "Oh, I see why this relationship works. Wow. This is perfect."

"Err, is there anything else? I've never been to an ER, so. Um." Something about the way she sounds just like Princess puts him at ease, like he doesn't need to worry about impressing her.

"No. I'll text you the list after we hang up. Just let me know how she is tomorrow, okay? I know you'll take care of her, Diego."

"Yes, I will. Thank you." He ends the call and texts Julio to get up here now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ER is pandemonium and Princess is extremely unhappy to be there. She is curled into his side, trying to hide from the noise and the light, while Bastian fills out forms for her. Julio thought to bring her purse, it was a very good idea since her entire identity is in there. When Bastian hands over the forms to the desk the nurse sees Princess's hospital work badge in his hand with her ID and she magically shoots to the top of the waitlist. 

The nurses come to take her into the back, they bring her a wheelchair which she grumbles about but goes willingly when Diego pushes her into the seat. He wants to go with her, but he isn't family. If this were anyone else he would do whatever he wants, but this is his Princess. The thought of breaking her trust by violating her privacy is unbearable, anything like this has never been discussed. 

They barely disappear around the corner before a nurse comes right back.

"Alright. Which one is Diego? She will not shut up and she will not calm down. Come with me." The nurse grabs his arm and practically drags him for a few steps until his longer legs catch up. 

They go into a curtained room where one nurse is trying to manhandle yoga pants down well-rounded hips and another is opening prefilled syringes. Princess is swiping at the unfamiliar hands on her body, unbalanced and jumpy. Little noises of fear escape from her lips in high pitches, her head is down and her eyes are closed tightly against the florescent lighting. Diego suddenly remembers that she can't see. She is terrified.

"Princess?" The second he touches her with one hand she dives into him. Her own little hands claw into his shirt and she tries to mold her body to his. "I'm here. You're safe." Wrapping arms around her, he holds her still tightly. She nods against his chest and relaxes a tiny bit. 

The nurse with the syringes looks pointedly at Princess's butt, then back up at him. Oh. Right. Sliding one hand down her back, he inserts fingers into the back of her pants and eases the elastic waistband down. "Its just me," he whispers into her hair as she trembles in his hold. The strong muscles of her butt twitch, but she doesn't fight him. She trusts me. 

Its over in under five seconds, both shots and both bandaids, one set on each side. She jumps with each injection but can't seem to process what happened fast enough to respond appropriately. 

The nurse doesn't even bother to look up from cleaning the table. "Okay, take her home and put her to bed. She'll sleep for the next eight hours." 

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "That's it?"

"Yep, thanks for your help." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess succumbs to the sedative halfway home and Diego has to carry her to bed. She really does sleep for most of Saturday. He keeps going in to check on her, she is completely limp and doesn't change position once. Its a bit disturbing how helpless she is like this. Has she had to do this alone before? Or, worse yet, with the awful ex?

He stays right beside her after that.

When she finally wakes her eyes are normal again and she immediately reaches out for him. "Diego?"

Her little question makes him smile warmly. 

"Right here, Princess. Welcome back."  He rumbles softly, unsure if sound still hurts her. Stroking one hand down her back makes her arch up into his caress. So beautiful. 

She squints up at him through the curtain of her hair. Slowly, Princess rises to all fours, then eases back to sit. "I…" she blinks at him. "I have to pee." 

Okay, so awake but not totally coherent yet. She requires a little assistance in the bathroom, mostly a steady arm to lean on, but they manage it with only mild to moderate giggles and one bruise-inducing bump to the corner of the counter. 

She stumbles back to bed, collapses face down, sticks her left arm out in his general direction, and wiggles fingers at him then back at herself.

"Take the stupid bandaids off. Shit itches."

Oh yes, finally time to touch the butt.

Diego sits on the bed beside her, one hip pressed up against her own. He firmly strokes both hands down her back just to hear her deep moan of pleasure. She arches up when he reaches the curve of her ass. Oh good, she is feeling better. Fuck that, she feels amazing, he chuckles at his own joke but doesn't pause in gently groping her. The silky panties slide easily over her cheeks, the sight makes his mouth water. The pale skin is only marred by the bandaids, so he pulls them both off in rapid succession then smooths fingers over the red marks. 

"Mmmmm," she moans with the gentle treatment, "Thank you for taking care of me. That's the first time someone other than my parents did that for me. How did you know to take me to the ER, anyway?" Her voice is muffled in the pillow, soft and sleepy and content.

Diego absent-mindedly runs a finger down the crack of her ass, feather light. "Your mom told me what to do when I called her."

"YOU CALLED MY MOM?!?!"

Judging by her volume, apparently no, sound does not hurt her anymore.

[k-kizkhalifa]

Can we get some short Drarry?

Sure. Always. I love Drarry. We allll know this! ~kiz

After writing: So damn this one got away from me. Like holy hell, I won’t lie I am in my feelings and I had a bad week. And this happened. So, buckle up. ~ kiz

Draco was a mess, an absolute mess. He looked it, he felt it... and, if he was honest he smelt it.

It’d been at least four days since he took a proper shower, probably a whole week since he washed his hair. And while cleansing wipes were helpful they didn’t compare to 4 days of sweat, oil, dirt.... four days of laying in bed and being a mess. Nothing could combat that.

Depression took that from him.

He was sick, something was wrong. Not just something, but, he was wrong. He wasn’t okay, he ached, his body was stiff from laying around, his muscles were sore and unused. His head hurt and his throat was raw, he knew he needed to get up and clean himself, to wash his hair and eat something other than the stale crisp that were laying beside him on the bed. The oil staining his sheets and fingers when he would pick at the bag.

But, none of that mattered at the moment. Not as much as it should have, because instead he looking at Potter, who was looking at him like he was a mess.

“Baby,” Harry whispered softly, the drapes were drawn and the only light was from the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table. “You can’t do this every time I have to leave.”

Draco knew he was right, how could he not be? He couldn’t just hide and breakdown every time Harry had to go on missions.

“...so, we’ll get you in a shower, and I’ll make dinn—.”

Draco realized he was talking, still, and tried to focus. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t focus on anything but the way Harry was looking at him. Like he was disgusting.

“Come on, then?” Harry asked, softly, taking a step closer and watching Draco recoil. “Baby, please.”

Draco shook his head, he didn’t dare speak. He just hid under his blankets, pulling them close to his body.

Harry stepped closer, slower, and finally when he was in reach of him he held out his hand. “I’m right here, okay? I’m here,” he pressed his hand to his chest, his fingers brushing against his auror uniform. “Feel me.” He rubbed his hand against his chest again, the feel of his uniform rough against his fingertips. He reached out with his other hand for Draco’s, prying his grasp from the covers and pulling him towards his chest. “Feel me.” Draco grasper at his uniform, weak, urgent fingers gripping at the material.

“Harry,” he whispered softly, his voice quiet and raw.

“Right here.” Harry answered, a smile forming across his lips. “Hey, baby.”

“Harry,” Draco whispered again, and again, and again. He whispered it as Harry pulled the covers back and moved him off the bed into his arms, walking slowly to the en-suite and sat him on the edge of the tub. He whispered it as Harry held him steady and started the water, as Harry bent down in front of him and undressed him.

His name falling quietly, softly, like a whisper of wind. And Harry just kept answering him periodically, letting him know he was there.

Right there.

“Alright, baby, in the shower.”

Draco finally looked away from Harry, around their white and gray bathroom, “I can’t.”

“You can,” Harry said encourageingly. “You’ll feel better, then dinner, right?”

“Right.” Draco answered numbly, feeling Harry’s hands - soft, strong, warm - grasp his body and help him up. He helped him into the shower, his hand sliding down his thin back.

“I’ll be in the bedroom, let me know if you need anything.” Harry tried for another smile, again, watching Draco lean towards the water.

Draco felt him leave, without watching him go. It was as if the ache crept back in. Harry’s warmth took it all away, but there it was. It was dark and twisted and gnawed at his gut, he wrapped his arms around himself tightly, praying he could just keep it together.

The water was warm and overwhelming, it wasn’t the same type of warmth that Potter gave him. This one hurt, it felt like nails on his skin. He stood there a moment, a rush of magic wrapping around him. Harry’s magic. He felt it much more now that his wasn’t as strong.

Depression took that from him, too.

He gasped in a breath, it had been too long since he felt that. Harry tended not to use magic much at home anymore to keep Draco comfortable and not risk him feeling worse.

“Harry,” Draco said, his voice couldn’t compete with the sound of the shower, “Harry,” he called again, panic raising inside of him.

Alone, he thought, I’m alone again.

The whole world stilled, Draco frantically trying to get out of the shower to make sure Harry was still there, “Harry,” he cried, slipping on the tiles of the shower and tumbling towards the edge, his hands grabbing for the shower wall only to feel them slipping down the side, “Harry!”

Harry was there in an instance, grabbing Draco before he hit the edge of the tub, the cracking noise of his apparation still sounding the air as he held Draco.

“Okay,” he whispered, “I’m here.” He promised and held Draco close in his arms, he got him up and stepped into the water next to him.

“Your clothes,” Draco whispered softly, his cheek brushing against his uniform. Harry didn’t say anything, he just helped him stand, holding him close. The water was warm against his body and he loosened his hold on Draco.

“Harry, your clothes....” Draco said again, “your shoes.”

“I don’t give a fuck about my clothes, Draco!” He snapped, feeling the blonde flinch. It was quiet between them, Draco staring at Harry’s shoes, the man before him pulling in a breath to calm down. “Soap,” he said as if trying to remind himself why he was standing in the middle of a shower, fully clothed. He moved slowly, Draco frozen before him, and grabbed the washcloth and soap. He washed his body methodically, as if he had done this a million times before...because he had. Anytime he came back from a trip, anytime Draco had his days, this was always the end result. Harry was always there to clean him up, literally.

He moved through the motions slowly, silently. Washing Draco, kneeling to get his legs and feet, then back up to wash his hair and face. Draco didn’t move, unless Harry moved him.

Depression took that from him, too.

And then Harry turned the water off, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Draco like a blanket before pulling him into his arms and stepping out of the tub. Draco laid in his arms, his eyes worried as he scanned Harry’s face.

“Tea?” Harry asked, putting Draco on the edge of their bed.

Draco nodded.

“Okay,” Harry used his wand to get another towel, and dried Draco off. His hands working quickly to ensure the man was dry and warm before he got his clothing. He said, “don’t move,” though he didn’t need to. Where would Draco go?

Once he was dressed, Harry knelt before him as he slipped his socks on, Draco reached out and caressed Harry’s wet hair, looking around the now clean and brightly lit room. Realizing that was what Harry’s magic had been for.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Harry said softly, nuzzling Draco’s hand.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault.” Harry frowned, “I know you get fixated when you’re in this state.”

Draco nodded, looking away, so he couldn’t see the disgust on Harry’s face.

Harry sighed, internally, taking his chin and directing him back, “baby, stop turning away from me.” He pleaded softly, “I’m right here.”

“I don’t want to see the way you look at me.”

Harry had heard it a million times, but it never ceased to hurt him. “I look at you like I love you, Draco, always. That’s it.”

Draco opened his eyes, recognizing the love in those green eyes, a small smile forming.

Depression took that from him, too.

“I can make tea?”

“You can make tea,” Harry agreed, standing and giving him some space, “why don’t you go look at our reserves and tell me what you want for dinner? I’ll change.”

“Okay,” Draco stood up, excitedly, “I’ll make tea.”

“You make tea,” Harry watched him walk from the room, a little happier than when he had got back.

And the moment that door was closed Harry sunk down to the ground, grabbing the towel Draco had just used and held it to his mouth to muffle his cries.

Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco.

Depression took that from him, too.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Two

Table of Content or Part Forty-One

Read here on Wattpad

Words: 3.6k

Warning(s): Explicit language, explicit sexual situations, miscarriage

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I had miscarried a week before the four month mark, and despite the large amount of stress I was under, I was told my body showed signs of preparing to discard the pregnancy, anyway, and it was estimated there hadn't been a heartbeat for almost a week prior.

I planned on telling Nikki before my stomach grew to an obvious size, but I managed to keep it under the radar and it just looked like I was gaining some weight.

Andy had taken me, in and out at consciousness, to the hospital after Nikki's blue color started to miraculously subside and he decided it was better to keep the freshly overdosed heroin junkie away from anyone who could notify authorities.

A D&C was performed, I was given hospital-issued pajama pants since I wasnt wearing any, told not to use tampons, insert anything into my vagina or have sex for two weeks, and I was sent on my way.

"I-I heard the nurse say something about a failed pregnancy." Andy tells me, hesitantly, as we head back to the apartment to see if Nikki's still there.

"They thought it might have been one, but I told them I wasn't pregnant and they decided it was a serious spell of period cramping." I reply.

"You don't fucking pass out from a period cramp, Vivian."

"I passed out because I was in shock from Nikki being blue." I argue.

"That was a lot of blood to be--"

"Andy, until you have a uterus that sheds once a month, you don't get to make the rules as to what's a normal amount of period blood and what isn't." I cut him short and he sighs out.

"Got it, Viv."

When we get back to the apartment, it's empty.

The Rat is gone, and Nikki's gone.

"Do you think he's back at the hotel?" Andy asks me and I pray in my mind he is.

"Maybe he is." I tell him.

I have to give it to Andy, he managed to get Nikki breathing again while simultaneously trying to get me to regain consciousness...all while on heroin himself.

Vince killed his drummer, and he still saved Vince's bassist.

I get back to the hotel, Doc interrogating the front desk, demanding to know where I went and if she's seen me recently.

"Doc, chill out." I tell him, rubbing my eyes and he sees me and relief washes over him.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" He shouts at me. "I was about to call the cops, Vivian!"

"I know, I'm sorry, I just had to go to the doctor for lady issues." I tell him and he looks at me like I've lost my mind, looks at Andy and throws his hands up.

"All you kids are fucking impossible, holy shit!" He calls out, stepping to the elevator.

I turn to Andy, smiling tiredly up at him.

"Thank you for helping Nikki." I tell him.

"I'd do it ten times over, Viv." He replies.

I try my hardest to memorize him, snapping a mental picture of his soft smile, his liner smudged eyes, his clothes...preparing for this being the last time I ever see him, because at the rate he's going, he'll be dead in a couple years.

Tears blur my vision, but never break over my lashes, and I hug him to me.

"Take care of yourself." I tell him calmly. "Please."

"Oh, I'll be fine." He replies, squeezing me back.

When we pull away, his hands hold at either side of my face.

"Keep your head clear." He tells me one last time and I nod.

To this day I still hear him in my mind when I'm overwhelmed.

"Keep your head clear."

I get up to the room to pack, thinking of what the hell to say to Nikki.

He's getting out of the shower when I get in, bruises covering him from where he was hit with the bat, and his chest is bruised from CPR.

I decide not to say anything, ignoring him when he tries to talk to me.

"Baby." He states, realizing I'm purposely ignoring him.

I just fold my dirty clothes up and put them in my bag.

"Vivian." He tries again. "I really don't need you to be pissed at me about this, Viv."

Again, I don't say a word.

I try to head to the bathroom before he's grabbing at my arm, stopping me.

"I over did it, I know I did. I'm sorry, alright? Just please talk to me."

"I'm going back home." I tell him and he looks shocked before his face suddenly scrunches up.

"What?"

"I am going back to L.A." I repeat.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not hanging around to see you pick up where you left off before you nearly died, Nikki, and I know that the second we get to the next city, you'll be pinpointing a dealer as soon as possible." I state.

"I--Viv, I made a mistake, I understand that I made a bad call." He tries to reason with me before snatching my shirt out of my hand before I can pack it. "Will you listen to me?"

"Why? You never listen to me." I hiss at him and his eyes glass over in tears.

Instead of yelling at me, or arguing, he puts my shirt in my bag for me, and helps me pack the rest of my stuff before he gets dressed and gets his own stuff together. "I just want to go home." I finally tell him, feeling a little guilty for being mean to him after what happened to him.

"I know." He says lowly, sitting next to me on the bed. "I just don't want you to."

"I'll only be a phone call away, and the tour will be over in less than a month and you'll be back in no time." I point out.

"Yeah, I guess." He replies.

"Just, please, be careful." I plead, grabbing his hand.

He looks at me and nods a little.

"I will, Viv. I promise." He assures me.

It was bullshit. Two days after that, he was hanging out with Tommy, Rodger Taylor and Robin Zander, at dinner and when lines of power rails of coke were offered to them, Nikki snorted all of it on his own.

But I wasn't worried about Nikki. I prayed for him before I left London and that was that.

I bombard Steven when I see him by Duff's car in the parking lot, wrapping my arms around him tightly, nearly crying tears of joy.

"Have you gotten taller?" I tease, ruffling his fluffy blonde hair.

"Nah, maybe you're getting shorter." He replies as I put my bag in the trunk.

"Short-stop." I shoot at him.

"Firecrotch." He replies without missing a beat and I can't help but laugh.

"You've been hanging around Izzy too much." I point out, getting into the car.

When we get to their apartment, I set my bag on floor by the door and look around at the shithole it is.

"The guys are out, I'm about to go see if I can find 'em if you wanna come." Stevie offers.

I shake my head a little, already knowing how I want to spend my night.

"No, thank you, just wanna shower and get settled." I explain, and he nods.

"You're gonna have to air dry because we don't have towels, and we don't have hot water." He adds. "Also, pee in the shower if you gotta pee because we don't have a toilet anymore."

"What about if I need to do the other?" I ask him and he rubs his lips together.

"We usually just do that in our friend's apartment down the hall. Apartment 205." He informs me and I raise my brows but don't say a word.

"Got it." I reply.

"Alright, well, I'm out." He tells me.

"Okay, see you later tonight." I reply, shutting the door behind him.

I turn to face the mess that is their apartment and I take a breath and get started.

I'm just getting out of the shower by the time I hear the front door open and close, and I hold my arms over my chest and peak my head out of the bathroom, seeing Duff's lanky frame in the kitchen, the only light is from the small lamp on the floor in the living room.

"Hey." I tell him, and he turns around, brows raised.

"Oh, shit, hey." He chuckles off his startledness. "Are you done with your shower?" He asks and I nod.

He's stepping to me, his hand holding out a cheap towel.

"Steven said you were crashing here tonight so I went and got some things...I knew you'd appreciate a towel." He tells me and I chuckle, grateful for his consideration as I step back into the bathroom to wrap up in the towel and step back out to my bag to get pajamas. "I got some shitty sheets for that mattress." He motions to the one bedroom. "And a blanket because we don't have any."

"How do you guys stay warm then?" I ask and he shrugs.

"We usually go home with girls who have blankets." He chuckles and I shake my head a little. "At least they do. Anymore I come back and crash here." He adds. "Also, thank you for cleaning." He notices the much more organized and clean apartment I'd been working on ever since Steven left three hours ago. "Which brings me to my last purchase I know you would need." He puts a can of disinfectant spray on the counter next to the blanket and sheets and I can't hold back to laugh that comes when I see it. "I suggest using the whole can."

"I'm planning on it don't worry." I chuckle as he takes can of spray and the sheets into the bedroom.

I'm assuming to spray down the mattress and put the sheets on.

I dry off and towel dry my hair before slipping on a pair of pajama shorts and a Crüe band tshirt.

Once I'm done in the bathroom, I see Duff sitting on the couch with his bass and I sit beside him as he goofs off with it for a couple minutes before I point to a note his finger is on.

"What's that?" I ask him, curiously.

"J." He tells me and I furrow my brows a little.

"There's a 'J' note on bass?" I ask and he nods, his expression serious for a moment before he cracks into a smile. "Duff, I'm serious." I push at his shoulder lightly and he chuckles.

"I don't know what note it is." He tells me.

"Bullcrap." I state.

"I'm being serious. I don't know a single name of any of the notes."

"You play by ear?!"

"Yep."

"Why?!"

"I just wanted to play bass. I didn't want to learn it step by step. It's obviously working out for me the way I do it now, so." He shrugs. "Is that not what Nikki does?"

"Yeah...but he's Nikki I don't expect him to know all of it. He sticks to the same template of decently easy notes in every song anyway because he's too fucked up to remember anything elaborate." I tell him and he chokes a little, looking at me.

"That's mean." He points at me.

I think about it for a second and sigh out.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just tired and moody I guess." I mumble, running a hand through my hair.

"Do you need to go to bed?" He asks me.

"Probably." I admit, seeing it's 1:17am on their crooked wall clock, standing up and stretching.

I look towards the bedroom, then to Duff and back to the bedroom before sitting back down.

"What is it?" He asks me.

"I'll just chill here with you for a few more minutes." I tell him.

"Okay."

I lay down, my legs curling to my chest as the top of my head brushes against the side of his thigh, my eyes closing.

I'm probably asleep for another hour before I'm being woken up.

"Viv." Duff slowly shakes me awake and I groan a little, blinking up at him.

"C'mon, I'm helping you to bed." He tells me and I nod sleepily, taking his hands as he helps me up.

I'm half asleep when I fall to the matress on the floor and he chuckles at me grabbing the blanket to cover me up.

"You good?" He asks me after covering me up and I nod. "Okay, I'm crashing on the couch if you need anything."

"Sleep in here." I tell him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up a little.

It's obvious he's thinking really hard about the invitation.

"Please?" I ask. "I don't like sleeping alone."

He thinks about it for a moment longer before getting his boots off, laying down beside me as far away as possible, not even taking his jacket off.

"Goodnight, Viv." He says.

"Goodnight." I barely mumble back.

This is where the very strict "friends" line that separated Duff and I began to slowly blur, and I despised myself for it.

I'm tired, but I can't bring myself to sleep, turning to face Duff.

I wonder if he's asleep.

"Duff?" I whisper.

"Hmm?" He replies.

He's laying on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, the other across his abdomen.

I think about how he kissed me, and how did it like he meant it, openly and honestly, and I freaked out over it.

And why?

Because of Nikki?

I remember the reminiscent feeling I got with Duff, when he made his drunk move, mirrored how I felt when Nikki first made his five years ago.

My eyes go back to the blonde beside me, the temptation to either scare him away or draw him in more is pulling at me strong.

"Take your jacket off." I say to him lowly and he looks at me in the dark of the room, the only sliver of light coming from the neon glowing lights of the strip.

"Viv." He says it like he knows what I'm thinking he's begging me not to because he couldn't possibly resist.

I sit up getting on my knees, pulling my tshirt over my head and discarding it.

"Shit." He mumbles to himself, sighing out as I crawl to him.

All it takes is my leg swinging over his hips to straddle him and he's caving.

He doesn't dare make a move to touch me, probably trying to decide if this is real or not, until I'm pressing my lips against his, moaning softly as my nipples gently rub against the fabric of his clothes.

My hands grab either side of his unzipped jacket, pulling him up to a sitting position, pushing the leather from him, he discards the jacket across the room and my hands run down his arms to his wrists to guide his hands to my hips as I slowly start rocking against his groin as my forehead rests against his, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure sparks through me.

"Fuck, Viv..." he breaths out, finger tips lightly pressing into the flesh of my hips.

Pull up on the bottom of his shirt, leaning into him when it's off, feeling his skin against mine as our lips meet once more before I'm running my tongue along his bottom lip to give him the hint.

His hands move to my ass, guiding the slow, needy movements of the junction of my thighs against the hardness in his pants.

Our tongues tangle together as he moves one of his hands up to run his thumb against my nipple.

I whimper, the ache in my core growing stronger as he gets comfortable and shifts from being shy and acting like he doesn't know what to do, to complete dominance, pushing me onto my back, my hair hanging off the foot of the bed.

He takes his pants off as I pull at my shorts, rubbing my thighs together, looking up at him as he gives me a happy smile, pressing his lips to my ankle, working his way up inch by inch, worshipping me with each caress, each kiss, each move.

He's running his tongue against my clit, eliciting another moan from me, my back arching as my hands fall into his blonde hair.

When he hits a certain spot, I gasp, my eyes nearly watering.

"Right there, please, Duff." I quietly whine out a beg.

He listens, continuing to move his tongue against me, causing me to resort to shallow breaths as pleasure builds.

One of his hands goes to my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers, only encouraging me to grind into his face with his slow, savoring, pace.

I'm coming before realizing it, my toes curling, his name catching in my throat as I arch my back.

He looks like he's about to go back for seconds but I'm sitting up and pulling his lips to mine before taking my hand and wrapping it around his prick.

The thought of it inside of me sends me into overdrive and he groans out as I run my thumb over his tip, my thigh hooking around him as my legs spread, wanting him inside of me.

I fall back on the matress taking him with me as our lips stay locked, and both of his hands are on either side of my head as we break our kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks me. "I mean really sure. I don't want to hurt you, Viv, I--"

I cut him short, giving him reassuring kiss before looking up at him again.

He nods, as if convincing himself to disrespect Nikki and our marriage as he jerks himself off a couple of times before placing his head at my entrance.

He slowly pushes himself in, and by the time he's in as far as my body has room for him to be in, he's grasping the blanket we're on, under his hands, obviously trying to keep his control.

"Are you okay?" He asks me, giving me time to adjust to him.

I don't answer, my hands pushing at his sides to get him to pullout of me, and he thinks I want him off of me, nearly moving completely out of me before I'm wrapping my legs around him, causing him to push back into me.

The feeling forces a loud, wanton, nearly pornish sound from me and he realizes I want him to keep going.

He smiles to me, kissing me again while pulling out and thrusting back into me, gently.

"Duff," I start, breathing out.

"Y-Yeah?" He asks, stopping suddenly.

"I'm not gonna break." I tell him with a shy smile as a subtle hint to screw me into the mattress.

He's chuckling a little, loosening up, before thrusting into me a little faster, rougher, and harder.

"Fuck, Duff!" I can't control myself, my nails screaming against the skin of his back as his length moves inside of me addictively.

He repeatedly hits against my tender cervix, and the thought of him finishing inside of me is fucking crazy but nearly primal.

"You feel so fucking good." He tells me, his cigarettes laced breath adding to the comfort of him pulling pressing his body against mine, taking my lower lip between his teeth.

My fingers curl into his blonde hair, my nipples aggressively move against him with his desperate pace.

"I'm gonna come." I tell him, my eyes closing, my lips slightly opened as tremors course through me.

I cry out so loudly he has to put his hand over my mouth incase any of the guys are home.

Tears roll down my face as he picks up the pace, chasing after his high with my legs locked around him.

"I love you." He tells me, his lips brushing against mine.

"I love you, too." I say back, my hand going between my legs to play with my clit to try have another hit before he finishes.

His hand is moving mine out of the way and rubbing at me far better than I can in my love-high state.

More of my juices flood onto him as my brain fills with more endorphins, my eyes heavy with a floating high.

"I'm about to come." He tells me.

"Come in me." I tell him, hazily, not thinking clearly.

"Viv, I--"

"Please, I wanna feel it, Duff. I wanna feel you." I beg, arching into him, pulling his hips into mine with my thighs.

He doesn't argue, cursing out as streams of his cum pump into me.

He doesn't get off of me until he's finished, the both of us laying in silence as nausea forces it's way through me.

I'm sitting up, throwing up, my body sweating and my face soaked with tears.

I realize I'm throwing up on the living room's stained carpet as Duff startles awake from where he fell asleep beside me on the couch.

Izzy's passed out on the floor on the other side of the coffee table and I look at the clock to see it's 5:00am.

"Viv, are you alright?" Duff asks me, but all I hear in the sound of his voice is the terrifying idea that I just dreamt up an entire fantasy about him that seems so unbelievably realistic, that if he weren't still fully dressed, jacket and boots included, I would swear it actually happened.

My heart sinks to my stomach.

I need Nikki.

It was one hell of a foreshadow.

[lemongams-blog]

Curves parallels

prologue

Deep night. A pale crescent sparkles in the starry sky. A warm summer wind blew fallen leaves and small debris across the ground. There was not a soul around, thanks to which I could contemplate the empty benches that were illuminated by the lanterns.

A tall man, dressed in a long, old-fashioned raincoat, walked alone in the park. On his head was a long, wide-brimmed hat that covered the upper part of his face.

“Not a day, but a sheer disappointment,” the man growled angrily, quickening his pace.

~ Does this happen? For the whole day I could not catch even one victim. It feels like all the females are extinct. One command at a time. ~ - the man continued mentally.

Realizing that today nothing shines for him, the man turned around and headed into a dense forest thicket, which was a few tens of meters from him.

Mostly, the forest consisted of conifers, and occasionally other types of trees could be found. For example an aspen.

Suddenly, the man was able to pick up an incomprehensible noise. Sounds were heard very close, literally a few steps away. Curiosity got the better of him, and the man slowly walked to the source of the noise.

What he saw on the spot plunged him into a slight shock:

A girl was lying on the ground, leaning against a tree. Her body was covered with deep wounds that were severely bleeding. She was dressed in an incomprehensible suit, torn in several places. The girl had long, pink horns on her head. In addition, the girl had sharp teeth.

~ Pretty good prey, it will be very offensive if such a rare specimen disappears ~ - flashed through the man's head.

Smiling broadly, the man tried to lift the girl's body, but the unexpected happened.

Something sharp, at high speed, pierced his palm, causing the man to hiss and withdraw his hand. A black, thick liquid began to drain from the resulting wound. However, despite the serious injury, the wound gradually began to heal.

~ Oh shit, this shit just used magic against me ~ - flashed through the man's head.

Suddenly, the girl's eyes began to fill with tears, after which she looked at the stranger.

- P-please, p-p-help me - Stuttering said the girl, gradually losing consciousness.

~ Seriously? Damn, this is funny. A creature of low origin asks me to save her. Although, why not? All the same, this specimen is quite rare, it would be nice to study it ~ - the man thought. The decision was made in seconds.

Taking her in my arms, I walked towards my brother's mansion. If only he was not at home, otherwise we will be in trouble.

***

Morning has come. The bright rays of the sun could not penetrate the room because of the dense purple curtains. The girl opens her tired eyes. Stretching, she raised herself slightly on her elbows, after which she decided to look around.

She was lying on a huge bed covered with a soft black blanket. The room in which the girl was lying was decorated in dark purple colors. At the edges of the bed were carved dark oak nightstands with floor lamps. Opposite the bed was a wide plasma TV with a turntable, next to which was a closet filled to the brim with old cassettes.

~ Am I alive ?! Where I am?! ~ - the first thing the girl thought about. The whole body ached, and the bandaged wounds itched violently. The girl looked under the covers and found that she was absolutely NAKED.

~ What? Why am I not wearing clothes ?! ~ The girl panicked. She was so busy examining the wounds that she did not notice her savior, who was lying next to her.

- Oh, you already woke up baby? - asked the man lying next to him. He put his hand under his head and looked at the frightened girl. With a soft squeak, the girl pulled the blanket over herself to cover herself. Pulling off the covers, she saw that the stranger was also naked. In embarrassment, the girl closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.

- Sorry, sorry, I didn't want to! the girl said loudly, blushing. The stranger laughed, then said:

- Who are you with us? And do not shout so loudly, otherwise we will have problems.

- Sorry, I honestly don't remember how I got here. Why am I without clothes, and so are you? Everything is so confusing. After all .. After all, there was nothing between us? - rattled the girl, blushing more and more.

“I am your wonderful savior, and now you have to repay me with something,” the stranger said in a satisfied voice, imagining how well this morning could start.

- What? I'm not on ... - the girl did not have time to finish, as a tall man dressed in silk pajamas burst into the room. On his "face" glasses were visible. The girl huddled in the corner of the room with a blanket and only now noticed that both were missing any facial features.

- Offender, how many times have I told you not to bring your girlfriends here! You deprive me of healthy sleep and nerves! And if I have bruises under my eyes ?! the man shouted eccentrically, waving his arms.

- If you don't leave the room right now, bruises under the "eyes" will appear very soon - My husband said, ina with a note of irritation - And it was not I who yelled, but she - Offender pointed his finger at the girl, which made her huddled in the corner even more.

- I saved this cutie yesterday as a hero, by the way - Boasting he said. - Now get out, she must repay me.

- Did you save her? Really? You are not even able to save yourself. You usually think of only one thing.

After these words, Trender approached the girl, which made her pressed against the wall.

- Horns? Fangs? So are you a demon? - asked the mod.

- No! I am human. I'm sure of that. They did something to me. - Answered the girl - Maybe I will be of some use to you?

- Well, what can you do? - Offender asked with a malicious smile.

- I can be useful as a maid, or a servant. - The girl answered.

- And the idea is not bad, in this house except me no one cleaned for a long time. But the decision must be made only when everyone is awake.

***

The Slenderman lay in his bed, enjoying a restful sleep. Hearing a loud cry, he realized that Offender had brought another "girlfriend". Getting out of bed, he went to the wardrobe, where he put on his funeral suit, and then went out into the corridor.

Meanwhile, screams and curses came from Offender's room.

~ How I hate it ~ - the Faceless mentally boiled and entered the room. In the room, he found several bloody spots, pieces of torn cloth, and a naked Offender trying to take the girl in a blanket away from Trender. Seeing her brother, they let the girl go, and she, in turn, fell to the floor.

- What did I say about your victims in this house? - said the man in a serious voice, approaching the girl. The girl herself began to back away. Slender was about to rip her head off with his clawed hand. However, something held back his hand, preventing him from striking.

- Vile demon - the Faceless said with disgust. This was followed by a strong blow with a vector, from which the girl flew into the wall.

- I'm not a demon! No! I cannot be a demon - she grumbled, gradually rising from the floor.

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- What about your horns? And the fangs? And what was holding my hand back? I don't think that other creatures can do that - the monster said with a laugh. Offender pulled on his cloak and stood between the girl and the monster.

“Hey brother, this is my sweetheart, so I’m taking care of her. Better get out of here, otherwise you will get in full.

- If you want to get serious wounds, then I will help - Faceless answered aggressively, throwing his jacket on the floor.

As you might expect, a fight broke out between the brothers. While they were fighting, Trender took the girl in his arms and carried her to his room.

While the girl was waiting behind the screen, Trender sewed suitable clothes for her. He sewed the girl an unusual blue dress with a corset. He gave the dress to the girl, after which she got dressed and left. Appreciating his impeccable work, he approached the girl and began to tighten the corset.

“So, you’ll clean the whole house, cook for us, and clean up Offender’s garden. - At that moment, the brothers burst into the room with beatings and small smudges of black liquid resembling blood

- We made a decision: I will give you a probationary period a week. If you can do it, you will live, and if not, then I will kill you. Personally. Now go and make breakfast for four. And cook more - said the Faceless.

- Yes sir - answered the girl. She was heading towards the exit of the room when she was suddenly stopped by Offender.

- Baby, so what should we call you? - he asked.

- My name is 4.13.1.5.6.19.19, but you can call me Gladess.

[prince-claremont-diaz]

Whatever We Become

Summary: In Lucas’ final year of high school before he has to face the real world, he comes across the new identical twins, Eliott and Leo. Needless to say, Lucas falls head over heels for both of them. 

Or The twin au absolutely no one asked for

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Ao3 version

Oh shit I’m still alive

Chapter Nineteen: Try for you

"Lucas? Are you coming?" The next morning, Manon was standing in the doorway of Lucas' bedroom, bag slung over her shoulder while Lucas was bent over his desk writing something on a slip of scrap paper. 

He nodded, placing the paper carefully on the bed beside an Eliott-sized lump under the covers. "I'll meet you downstairs in a minute. Just wait outside for me," he said over his shoulder, only now starting to pack his homework into his backpack.

Manon gave him a thumbs up and then turned, shutting the door behind her. He heard the door to the flat shutting not long after. Lucas was about to open his bedroom door, bag already over his shoulders when he heard a rustling under the covers and Eliott rolled over on his side, facing him. He looked up at Lucas from his place in the bed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and dark circles prominent under his normally bright eyes.

"What are you doing? Don't you have school today?" he asked, voice coming out hoarse and strained from relative silence for the last few days. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, setting up on his elbows.

Lucas flapped his hand vaguely, shrugging. "I was about to," he said, lifting one of the straps, "But I can stay if you like? Lisa doesn't have work until later today, so she'll be here, but I don't mi—" 

"I don't need to be babied, Lucas. You don't need to constantly watch over me like I'm about to break," Eliott retorted, voice harsh and jarring, making Lucas stumble back a step in surprise. His heart hammered in his chest on instinct, grip tightening on his bag. He opened his mouth to reply, but Eliott beat him once again, sitting up. "I can stay here by myself, I'm used to it. You don't have to be so fucking overbearing like everybody else!" 

"Eliott, I was leav—" 

Eliott slapped his hand on the bed, startling Lucas back yet another step, eyes going wide as saucers. "Just go, Lucas!" he demanded, face red with anger. He glanced at the paper on the bed beside him and grabbed it in a fist. "And take the stupid note and fuck off!" He tore the paper in half, chucking it in Lucas' direction and then turning over again, throwing the covers over his head.

Lucas stepped heavily over to the bed and picked up the torn paper in shaking hands, a teardrop dripping onto the hardwood. "I-I'll see you later," he mumbled, sniffling as he shoved the ripped note in his back pocket. "There's food in the fridge—I-if you want it." Lucas slipped back into the hallway, shutting the door behind him and dragging his way over to the front door. He fumbled with his keys as he attempted to lock the door, eyes blurry with tears and fingers trembling. 

When he got downstairs, Manon was still standing outside, leaning against a lamppost and typing something on her phone. When the door slammed behind him, she looked up, face instantly falling and she pushed herself off the lamp and strided over to him, eyebrows furrowed and a deep frown set in her face.

"Don't," he choked out, "I don't wanna talk about it." He started down the pavement, legs and hands trembling, blinking back tears. 

"We don't have to," Manon replied, catching up to him. She gave him a sad smile and took his hand in her own, squeezing it lightly. 

The rest of the way to school was complete silence. 

◇

First period Biology, Lucas slumped into his usual seat, dropping his bag in front of him with a thud. Imane, who had been looking down to reply to a message looked up at the sound, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. His face must have been readable as her look twisted from curiosity to concern in a nanosecond. 

"Are you okay? You look kinda like you've been crying." 

"It's fine. I'm fine now," he remarked maybe a little too harsh. Imane sat back, tilting her head and giving him her usual 'You're not getting away with that' look. He sighed, looking out the windows of the classroom which overlooked the courtyard. "I got in an argument with Eliott about something. I was just shaken by the yelling, I guess," he admitted, toying with his fingers on top of his unopened bag. 

"Was it a big argument?" she asked. Arthur entered the class followed by Alexia and they both waved at Imane and Lucas as they wandered over to their desks. Arthur seemed to sense something was off, pausing to give him a look before continuing to his desk.

Lucas shook his head. "Not really. He just sorta snapped at me because I offered to stay to keep him company while he's, uh, sick," he explained. He had no idea what else to say to avoid telling her about Eliott's condition when he probably wouldn't appreciate everyone knowing. 

"He yelled at you until you were crying because you offered to stay to keep him company? Isn't that a bit harsh?" Imane stated, eyebrows narrowing further. 

"It's not his fault I can't handle people shouting. And it just startled me," he replied, immediately coming to Eliott's defense, "He wasn't, you know, like my dad. He was just in a bad mood."

"Are you sure? Because you look like you're about to faint," she said, jokingly feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. 

Lucas pushed her hand away, rolling his eyes. "I'm fine, Imane. What's with you being all motherly all of a sudden, anyway?" Lucas teased, poking her in the side. She squirmed away, slapping his wrist. 

"I'm always the mum friend," she remarked simply, shrugging, "And besides. We're friends, dumbass. Of course I worry about you."

Lucas gasped, slapping his hand to his chest. "Who replaced the real Imane? You're actually admitting that we're friends? And that you worry about me?" he exclaimed, feigning horror. Imane shoved him away by his face, scoffing. "You worry about me, Mother Imane."

"You're a mess constantly, of course I do. Especially when you arrive at school with unexplained injuries—" She lifted his still bandaged hand. "—or looking like a kicked puppy. It's what I do." She shrugged, picking up her pencil as their teacher finally arrived, greeting the class. "And don't you dare call me Mother, Lallemant," she added, elbowing his side.

"What would you prefer?" 

"Fuck off." 

Lucas snorted, finally unpacking his bag. "You love me," he said, flicking her shoulder.

"Unfortunately, yes." 

◇

Lucas took the long way home that afternoon, telling Manon to go ahead while he walked around a few extra blocks. He knew he was going to have to talk to Eliott when he got home and while he was hopeful that it would go well, he was still terrified. What if Eliott didn't want to talk? What if he had overstepped his boundaries too much and Eliott wanted nothing to do with him? What if Eliott had gone home instead of facing him? What if what if what if. 

Finally, at almost 18h, Lucas unlocked the door to the flat, stepping inside. Mika and Lisa were sitting on the couch together playing some card game while Manon sat at the dinner table with her homework. Eliott was sitting across from her watching her work, tapping his fingers on his knee idly. When he entered, all four heads looked up towards the sound.

Eliott was immediately on his feet, eyes wide and shocked. Lucas was starting to see the raccoon vibe. He sent Eliott a small smile and Eliott made his way over, looking extra tall dressed in Lucas' too small clothes. 

"My room?" Lucas asked, jutting his chin towards the hallway. Eliott nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. Lucas caught Manon's eye and she gave him an encouraging smile. They started down the hallway in a single file, floorboards creaking under their socked feet. 

Lucas shut the door behind them and Eliott sat down on the—surprisingly made—bed, chewing on his lower lip. Lucas leaned against his bedroom wall just across from Eliott, fixing the hem of his shirt just for a distraction. The air in the room was heavy with tension, clouding the room in a layer of awkwardness that Lucas couldn't find his way out of. 

"How was your day?" Lucas asked, grasping for a semblance of normality. He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. 

Eliott shrugged, keeping his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. "Quiet. Boring. I slept most of the day and didn't get up until about 14:30." He sniffed, distractedly scratching one of his cheeks. "Can we just get this over with?" His voice came out several octaves higher than usual and if Lucas was right, he sounded petrified. 

"Get what over with? Today was just an off day, okay? It doesn't matter anymore. Poof, gone," Lucas insisted, splaying his hands wide in front of him as he said the last sentence.

"Yes it does matter, Lucas," Eliott snapped, standing up. Lucas instinctively pressed against the wall for a split second, eyes bulging. Eliott took a deep breath, scrubbing his hand over his face. "See? I know I hurt you this morning. I was an asshole and while I still don't know the backstory, I know you don't like loud noises. I shouldn't have yelled at you." 

"It's okay. It's over now. I'm fine now," Lucas insisted, standing closer to reach for Eliott's chin only to have his hand pushed away.

Eliott shut his eyes, tilting his head back as he steeled himself. "But it'll happen again! I'll get irrational and irritable and you won't want to be around me anymore," he babbled, gesturing wildly to articulate his point. He dropped his hands in defeat, barely whispering, "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Lucas." 

"You won't, Eliott. You won't," Lucas pleaded, shaking his head and cupping Eliott's cheeks. This time, Eliott let him. "And have you met me? I'm the most irrational and grumpy person to walk this earth and I'm not even bipolar. If anything, it's you who's going to get sick of me."

"That's not the same." 

"Yes it is. We're going to get on each other's nerves, we'll fight, we'll go into huffs and ignore each other. I'll be slamming doors and you'll be walking out and it'll be a mess. I know that will probably happen sometimes," Lucas rambled, resting his forehead against Eliott's, nuzzling their noses together. "But the thing is, I don't care about all that. I don't care if you sometimes spend days or weeks ignoring me or yelling at me or sleeping. I don't care if I'm having to talk you down from a manic episode or having to find you all over the city. I don't care. 

"I couldn't care less so long as I still have you, okay? We can take this step by step, day by day. Minute by minute if we have to." Lucas tilted Eliott's chin up, forcing him to look into his eyes. Lucas saw a whole storm of emotions brewing in those crystal blue eyes. "As long as you'll let me have you, I'll be here. I'm gonna always be here annoying you to the ends of the earth, okay? I'm not going anywhere." 

Eliott smiled, eyes brimmed with tears. He leaned up, closing the last centimetres between their lips, kissing Lucas tenderly, oh so soft and delicate. He pulled Lucas over onto his lap sideways, pecking his lips again and again and again until Lucas' lips were red and swollen. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I should have stopped as soon as you looked that frightened," Eliott whispered against his lips, rubbing his thumb over Lucas' shoulder blades. 

"My dad used to scream and yell all the time when I was growing up. That's why shouting scares me," Lucas blurted, "He would yell for hours on end, throwing things at the walls and screaming at my mother until we were both crying. She didn't handle it well, naturally, and so she's been in and out of hospital for the last few years for schizophrenia." Lucas toyed with the collar of the shirt Eliott was wearing, unable to keep still as words flooded out of his mouth like a broken dam releasing its water.

Eliott huffed, leaning against him and pulling him into the crook of his neck. There was that usual Eliott smell. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Please tell me if I'm being too loud for you to handle. I can't promise I won't forget on my bad days, but I'll try. For you." Eliott cradled Lucas' head in his arms, talking directly into his ear. It sent a whole shiver through Lucas.

Lucas agreed, nodding up and down. "Then you have to tell me if I'm overstepping your boundaries in any way. I'd much rather you told me you needed some space than for you to get sick of my presence and leave." Lucas proposed as well, pulling his head out of Eliott's shoulder to look him in the eye.

"Again, I'll try. I tend to forget these things when I'm having an episode," Eliott replied, holding onto Lucas' shoulders, "I sometimes don't take my medications either because I feel good and then I get right back to square one. And then I'll end up hurting you again." 

Lucas poked Eliott's nose, shaking his head and getting to his feet. "We've been over this. I don't care about that stuff. We're probably both going to hurt each other accidentally a lot. We're both our own kind of mess. But we'll make it work, yeah?" Lucas pecked Eliott's lips chastely, leaning over the bed. "We're both a huge messy pile of trauma and regrets, but we can be a mess together. We have to at least try." 

"Come here. I need a cuddle after a whole day missing you and worrying about you hating me," Eliott said, making grabby hands for Lucas. Lucas giggled and let Eliott pull him into a hug, falling back onto the bed and scooting backwards until he was lying with his head on the pillow and Lucas lying on top of him. Lucas craned his neck to press a quick kiss to his cheek, blinking up at Eliott. "God, you're so beautiful," Eliott breathed, bending down for a proper kiss, supporting the back of Lucas' head.

And in that moment, wrapped up in Eliott, breathing in his warm scent, Lucas felt on top of the world. 

[writehardwhumpharder]

Fever drabble

(Fever, headache, collapse, caretaking, and snarkiness ensues)

Rain was coming down hard now, falling in heavy sheets that soaked Carson to his very core. He kept his eyes down as he walked, faintly amused at how easily the water mixed with his blood and disappeared onto the New York sidewalk. The city's usually bustling streets were all but empty, except for the few people that he'd seen take off in another direction at the sight of him. Surely he didn't look that bad. The blood clinging to his brow and soaking through his right pant leg came from what he would describe as "just a scratch". No, that was the least of his worries tonight.

Despite the chilly wind that came along with this unfortunate weather, Carson could still feel the fever radiating from his skin. Absently, he pawed at his forehead and neck as if to see if it had miraculously improved... or possibly gotten worse. But it was too hard to tell. This has happened to him once or twice before. Sometimes when a magic user takes in to much power, or slings around an absurd amount of energy, it can raise the body temperature along with other disorienting symptoms. The glow of the street lamps reflected in every wet surface was starting to give him a headache and he closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds.

Carson's apartment was on the other side of the city, the night so nice part to be exact, and even if he could walk all the way there without collapsing, he simply didn't want to. Calling a cab crossed his mind but he didn't have enough money left on him to catch a ride around the block. And so he made his reluctant trek towards Riley's office, hoping to God that she would be there.

They hardly knew each other, but since she was more or less the reason he was in this state, Carson decided that it would be okay to go bother her. A few days ago she'd asked him to fill in some blanks for her police report, and they didn't turn out to be yes or no questions. So he went out looking for a fight, and that's exactly what he got.

Carson grumbled to himself in frustration, pinching his nose to relive his growing headache, if only for a few seconds. When he rounded the corner the wind picked up and suddenly he was freezing. Realistically he knew that he still had a raging fever but his body seemed to do a 180, sending deep chills up his spine. He felt himself borrow deeper into his coat, drawing it tight across his body. Riley's office shouldn't be too far away now.

His feet grew heavy, making it difficult to move them back and forth. Any bystander would take him for a drunk, stumbling dizzily down the street at 3am. Really though he was having a hard time seeing just exactly where he was going. Carson just needed a good night's sleep and he'd be back on his feet, but the wet sidewalk wasn't a very good place to do that, as tempting as it may be. His head pounded worse and worse with every step and the chills were becoming unbearable. Somewhere in his head his brain was telling him, "get out of the damn rain before you kill yourself", it's a fight or flight type of thing. Picking up his pace, Carson tried to blink the blurriness from his eyes, scanning the street for the familiar window of Riley's office. She had her business logo and name etched onto it. As he moved his head around, squinting his eyes to look, he got the sudden feeling that he was going to be sick. A high fever can make you feel all sorts of things. He leaned against a wall, doubled over, just focused on taking deep breaths. The feeling didn't quite go away but once he was certain he wasn't going to humiliate himself by throwing up in the alley next to... CVS, he kept going. It must be close now.

Sure enough, Riley's blinds were closed but a warm yellow glow was coming from behind them. Carson looked both ways before hustling across the street, almost giddy with relief. The image of her soft leather sofa appeared in his mind. From what little he knew about her, Riley was a hard worker, more than dedicated enough to be awake at this time working on a stack of paperwork. He tripped a little on the steps up to the door, recovered, then knocked on it obnoxiously hard.

The door ripped open to reveal a casually dressed young woman of average height, average build, average brown hair, but stunning green eyes. Carson's brain must be fried at this point because he almost told her just that. She looked annoyed, just a few degrees shy of mad. He could tell she had prepared something to say but it died on her lips when she got a good look at him.

"What the hell happened to you?" She asked.

"Well I didn't quite get my ass kicked but apparently I really overdid it with the magic and you know how that goes."

"How would I have any idea how that goes?" She asked, frowning slightly. Right, she wasn't a magic user, probably didn't know much about it at all. But Carson didn't care to explain it at that moment.

"Can I come in?" He asked with a sigh. Riley opened the door wider then went back to sit at her desk. So he let himself in. Or tried to anyway.

He leaned heavily on the door as he stepped inside but a wave of dizziness rushed over him. So he stood there stupidly with the door open, letting the rain in. He planned to wait until he got his balance but before he knew it Riley was at his side. She held him up with one hand and closed the door with the other. When her hand brushed against his she felt the alarming heat rolling off him.

"Oh my god... " she said, lifting a hand to touch his forehead to get a more accurate reading. He flinched away so she couldn't reach it. "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Carson stopped moving and reluctantly let her touch his face, staring into the room to convey that he wasn't thrilled about it. Though it looked more like he was pouting.

"Magic or not a fever this high could kill you." Riley said with concern. As if on cue Carson's eyes went glassy and he fell clumsily to his knees. He was vaguely aware of Riley's voice saying his name, through a tunnel, underwater, and possibly in another country. The oscillating fan made a lot more sense as it hummed sweetly and felt the strong urge to put himself in front of it.

"Okay okay, hold on." She said mostly to herself, struggling to get him out of his wet coat and pry off his boots. Once that was done she helped him walk over to the couch. Carson sank into the cushions, closing his eyes in an effort to get the room to stop spinning. The fan swept his way, blowing cool air on his face which had gone back to being excruciatingly hot.

Riley disappeared for a minute, coming back just before Carson was about to engage in casual conversation with his new friend the fan. She sat down on the coffee table opposite him armed with a thermometer, a cool wet towel, and a glass of water.

"Open you eyes." She commanded. Carson did, lifting his head an inch above the back of the couch. Grabbing the glass of water first she held it up to his mouth for him to take a few sips. Carson tried to hold the glass for himself but she wouldn't let go, not trusting him to be able to do it. Which was probably for the best. Next she grabbed the thermometer and tried to put it in his mouth. Carson did that really annoying thing again where he turned his head and wiggled out of reach.

"Hold still, God damn it." Riley swore loudly. Carson's eyes went wide and he blinked a few times, making Riley feel a little bad for yelling at him. She lifted the thermometer again, more slowly this time, and he put it under his tongue before leaning back and closing his eyes again. As Riley waited for the beep, she studied his pale and sweaty face for a moment. Maybe it was just some side effect of magic overuse and there was nothing to worry about. She barely even knew Carson, let alone cared about him. As if to contradict herself, Riley felt her heart flutter with worry as she read the numbers -- 106⁰.

"Oh shit." She breathed, unsure what to do next. If her office had a shower she would have dragged him into it by now, but it didn't. What she did have, however, was a small kitchenette in the corner, including a fridge and freezer. Carson leaned over like he wanted to lay down so she helped him shift onto his back before running to the freezer, taking everything inside. There was a generous amount of frozen pasta, a few popsicles, and two actual ice packs.

"How you doing, Carson?" She asked.

"Eh..." he mumbled, "I've been better, I've been worse..."

"How about an actual answer," she prodded again.

"Oh, I feel terrible." He admitted. If Riley was going to ditch her important paperwork for this, at least he wasn't swearing up and down that he was completely fine like most guys she worked with. Carson's energy was waning and he felt the best thing he could do for himself was just go to sleep. Riley went to work with the frozen pasta, putting bags by his armpits, under his neck, and everywhere else she could put them to cool him down quickly.

She watched him sleep from where she was sitting on the coffee table. The wet cloth was still sitting next to the thermometer so she put it on his forehead, dabbing at it gently in a way that she hoped was comforting. Not that Carson would notice. Periodically she checked his temp through the night, relieved as it steadily fell back to normal. It wasn't the first time she'd slept at her office. Riley pulled her fold away cot out from the closet and settled into it so she had her own space but would be close by if he needed anything. Dozing off she a mental note to tell him tomorrow morning to never scare her like that again.

[wolfpawn]

When Ghosts Come for Us

Chapter 56

NOTE This is based on the movie Crimson Peak, so if any of the subject matter in that was uncomfortable for you, you will find this similar. I will *NOT* be describing incest in this, it will only be implied, same as the movie.

As I have stated already, my laptop is broken at present so please excuse grammar mistakes and the lack of GIFs and pics.

Also, I do not own any image or gif used in this story.

HERE is the link to Chapter 1 on Ao3

Rating - Mature

Charlotte felt uneasy with the information that Thomas had given her that evening, and even after attempting to sate their lust for one another after the day, she lay awake, staring at the canopy of the bed as Thomas slept soundly in the bed next to her. As she turned again, she felt his arm fall off her shoulder where it had ended up after he pulled her close to him, but with several attempts to get some rest, she had shirked it more and more off her arm with multiple tries to get comfortable in the bed. Thinking that she would not wake him now, Charlotte rose from the bed and grabbed a nightgown and walked from the room into the hallway.

As she walked down the hallway, she noted a small beam of light gently lighting the hall from Lucille’s room. She walked over and looked in, seeing Matilda, one of the carer’s cleaning Lucille’s face gently with a cloth. Satisfied there was no issue there, she continued her journey. She went to the office that William always used on the family floor of his family home, the one she rarely went in out of respect for the man that made her life so much easier, who gave her brother a good profession but at that moment, she needed to go there, to try and make sense of things. She sat in the large leather and wooden chair that she had seen William in more than once but had never sat in herself and thought. She had no idea what Lydia could want, but something told her, it was important, the other woman had never interacted with her before now, so to say she was, meant something. Looking at the desk, she sighed and placed her head in her hands. After a few minutes, she looked at the three drawers that made up the side of the desk and frowned. She noted they were not ones that could lock like so many she had seen and opened the top one.

There was nothing of note in there, different letters of inventories and other such items, clearly duplicates of ship's cargo that William had asked to have. The next drawer was nothing of note either, though there was a letter with writing she quickly recognised as her her, she read it and gave a small smile, in it she was thanking William, multiple times for assisting with Edward’s schooling, that she would be forever in his debt, that she would spend her life doing whatever he would require of her, that she respected other matters also. Charlotte pursed her lips, that had been her manner of referencing Lydia and his revelation of his love for the other woman and her respecting his request that she carry a child or two of his after his duty to the family name and future was upheld. She had promised him to do what was he asked and she would do so, she simply had no idea what that would entail. Looking at the rest of the notes in the desk, she realised there were other letters there, but none of them signed by a name, only with a term of endearment. She knew immediately they were from Lydia, she felt bad even looking at them, they were private but as she was now going to be dealing with the woman in some manner, she knew she needed to assess the woman she would be dealing with. It was quickly clear she was not well educated, her writing was not neat and the words were quite basic, some were spelt phonetically as opposed to correctly but she did not judge that. She knew that Lydia was not a learned woman, what she did note was the love and affection that the letters held for William and that made her smile slightly, that the woman had given her thoughts to William in such a manner. Charlotte felt herself intruding slightly but she flicked through a few of them. One caught her attention and going by the date, she knew why. It was clearly the first correspondence after she was promised to William, and clearly Lydia was heartbroken, her words were a mixture of angered and saddened, declaring that he did not love her, that she was not good enough, that she wasted her love on him, it flitted between the two emotions so quickly, Charlotte became dizzy more than once but she understood.

Sighing again, she did not know what to think. She knew Lydia would not hold any liking of her and she knew that if that letter was how she viewed things, the meeting between them would not be a pleasant one. It was dated several months before the marriage and William’s subsequent trip to India, and in turn, death and she could not find any of the ones that came after so she was not aware of whether or not the resentment remained. The manner in which William referenced the situation to her in person, both at their wedding at before would suggest it had not, so she was unsure what to think.

“Lady Charlotte?”

Charlotte looked up to see Margaret looking at her worriedly. “What are you doing out of bed at this hour, Margaret? You should be getting some rest.” The manner in which she chastised the maid was more motherly than anything, there was no harshness to her tone.

“Sir Thomas is looking for you, Ma’am.”

“Tell my silly husband, and tell him I called him that, that I am merely not able to sleep and to get some rest himself.”

Margaret tried to hide her slight snigger at the playful manner Charlotte jested at her husband before giving a slight curtsey. “Yes, Lady Sharpe.”

“And tell him he is not allowed have you called from your bed to irk me again or he will be sleeping in the attic. Women require sleep to rule the world.”

“I thought men ruled the world, Ma’am?”

“Who has ruled this country the longest of all its monarchs, Margaret?” “Queen Victoria, Ma’am.” “A woman,” Charlotte pointed out. “Because women do not start needless wars, so we live longer. And being honest, all the great men, even his Majesty, they cannot function without a woman to serve them their tea and breakfast, can they not? So by our actions, we women rule the world, men simply think they do because we let them.”

Margaret laughed and smiled brightly at Charlotte’s words, enjoying the playful manner her employer had. She did not think Charlotte to be silly and enjoyed working for the Sharpes. She knew her reciting Charlotte’s words back to Thomas would be met with a raised brow and a chuckle, along with another apology for her being woken to assist finding Charlotte. “Perhaps that is true, Ma’am.” “Perhaps.” Charlotte inhaled deeply and sighed. “Tell Thomas to go back to bed, then take the same advice yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” With another curtsey, Margaret left.

Charlotte remained in the room for a period longer, contemplating everything silently with only the flickering of the oil lamp beside her as light.

*

The next morning, Thomas found his wife sitting in the drawing room, dressed and clearly having not slept the night before. “Lottie?” “Yes?” “What happened last night? Where did you go?”

“One of the offices, to think. I did not want to wake you.”

“Is everything alright?” “Fine, though, why did you have poor Margaret pulled from her bed to find me?”

“I was worried, after your illness, I was fearful that you had gone into the darkness and would be ill again.” “I am not as silly as you think, you know.” “I do not think you silly at all.” “Yet, you thought I would go into the darkness of the night and ramble about in it?”

“I could not find you. I was simply worried.” She said nothing in response, she merely stared into space. “Lottie?” “Where did Mr Longley state Ms Carmichael is resident again?” “Not too far from here. Why, will we send a carriage?” “No.” Thomas looked at her curiously. “Have Amelia told we will see Thomas early today, then you and I are going to see what this woman wants.” “I was under the impression she would come to us here?” “Can I ask, Thomas, have you ever had a feeling, one so peculiar, you cannot help but listen to it when it screams at you to do something?” Thomas swallowed and nodded. He knew the sensation, he had it before. “I have had it all night, something is not right and I do not wish for it to come to pass that she comes here. I feel as though it is not a good idea.” “Very well, I will have Oliver or Margaret inform the nursery.” He rose and left the room, knowing better than to dismiss his wife. To date, her intuition had been almost perfect, he did not wish to begin ignoring it now.

*

It was past lunch when the carriage came to the lovely farmhouse out the outskirts of a quaint Welsh town. Throughout the journey, there was little said between husband and wife, Thoms watching as Charlotte seemed to go through different scenarios in her mind. When they arrived, they both looked at the house, judging its appearance curiously. Charlotte thought of what William had said of Lydia and of her letters and thought it odd she would have such a home going by what he had told her of the other woman. It was not something they had discussed very often but she was curious as to who held William’s heart and seeing she was not going to do something of a negative manner, he admitted such to her.

The coachman, Emlyn, one of the men to find her in the stables, came around and opened the door for them, Thomas exiting first, then Charlotte came after, her husband holding his hand out to assist her. They looked around and both men watched as brazenly, Charlotte walked to the front door and knocked. A moment later a woman answered, looking somewhat startled. “Good afternoon, Ms Carmichael, I am Charlotte Sharpe, I heard you wished to speak with me?” “I…”

“Please, it is quite cold, may we come in?” “How do you know…?” “What you look like? Very simple, I recall you at William’s funeral. It is not often you see a woman, not of the immediate family or house staff so heartbroken for a person, it was not hard to deduce who you were, especially when you wore the same locket I saw him ready for you on one of our meetings, the very same one I see on you now.”

The woman looked down and realised how observant Charlotte was. “Yes.” She opened the door and allowed Charlotte inside, Thomas following after.

“This is my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet of Allerdale Hall,” She introduced calmly.

“Ma’am.” He bowed his head slightly as he stood back. “Sir.” The woman curtsied slightly, it was rough and uncoordinated, but she attempted it all the same. “I do not understand, I was told that I would come to Foxgrove.” “I thought it best to discuss this matter of yours at the earliest convenience, this is such. To send Emlyn all the way here for you, then back to Foxgrove, it would only cost more time, then, of course, returning you to your lovely home here and back to Foxgrove; it is fair on neither him or the horses. I mean, you would only be getting in the carriage now, this way, we will have whatever the matter is sorted by the time you would even arrive at Foxgrove.” She smiled innocently as she spoke. “Now, how may I assist you, Ms Carmichael, may I call you Lydia?”

“I…”

“There will be no formality here, I am simply Charlotte, Thomas is Thomas and please, do not worry, we only wish to know how we can assist.”

The woman swallowed and looked between the pair. “Well, you see…” “Momma!” A little girl rushed into the room and looked ran to Lydia. As soon as she saw the two other people, she looked at them warily.

“Hello.” Charlotte beamed brightly at the child. “Haven’t you got the most beautiful hair? My goodness, those are the prettiest curls I have ever seen, are they natural?” She looked at Lydia.

“Yes,” The woman whispered.

“Beautiful.” Charlotte smiled. “Is this the matter you wished to discuss with us?” Lydia looked to the ground.

“So, she is Hamilton’s?” Thomas asked, assuming the nature of the situation. Again, Lydia said nothing. “And you wish for what exactly, some of his estate?”

Charlotte looked at the little girl for a moment. “I think it is best if…what is your name, Sweetheart?”

“Victoria.” The little girl answered.

“Victoria, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. And what age are you, Victoria?” “I will be five next month.”

“Five, you say, such a big girl. I think, perhaps, Little Victoria, you would find what we adults are about to talk of very boring matters and not really meant for little girl’s like you, would it be alright with you if my husband and I spoke to your Momma in private?” The girl seemed to think the same and rushed off again. Charlotte stood tall once more after leaning down to speak with the child. “She could not be deemed fit to get such, she is not a legitimate child.”

“I…” “I can assist with her, that is not even up for discussion, if she requires anything, once I have this all looked into, I will have her tended to, it would only be fair. William insisted that you be looked after. It is clear from this home that he was already tending to you even in his passing and I will continue such.” Lydia stared at her, barely comprehending the manner in which Charlotte was speaking regarding her. “William spoke the truth. You did not mind.” “No. I did not. I still do not. William never lied to me regarding you, he told me everything from the beginning.”

Lydia nodded for a moment before frowning. “‘Looked into’, what will you look into?”

“Well, I cannot simply give money to anyone in the county that declares their child is William’s, that would be madness.” Lydia’s eyes widened. “When I married William, I knew you would be a constant in my life from that day forth, there was no pretence, no lies. I am aware of the bargain he wished for, he gave it to me before we married, to have children that would be the successors of the Hamilton business, and then have his family, with you.” Lydia swallowed with tears in her eyes. “I wish to honour the wish to tend to you, Lydia.” “Then why…” “Because that girl is not his daughter.” Charlotte declared with absolute certainty. “You forget, Ms Carmichael, of your letters to William, before his marriage to me. He kept them, and with keeping them, my ability to find them among his belongings and read them. I did not sleep last night, wondering why you wanted this meeting, and I found myself going into his old office, a room I have never been overly interested in, yet last night, I found myself there, and whilst there, I found these letters, letters that are younger than that child, and not one even remote mention or references of her. She does not look remotely like him either, does she?” Lydia swallowed. “I doubt, by your love for William, she is a result of a folly with another man, either.” Lydia’s face told Charlotte the accuracy of her assumptions. “Lydia, I will look after you and your daughter, I swear to you on my son, but you must be honest with me.”

“She is my sister’s, she died two years ago, Victoria came to me then, since William gave me all of this, it allowed me to tend to her.” “Of course.” “But I...the rents have increased, I can no longer afford it.” She confessed, her shame at her lies being seen through coming to the fore.

“And you thought to extort money from my wife instead?” Thomas felt angered at the situation.

“Thomas.” Charlotte soothed before going to Lydia, taking her hand and patting it gently. “It is alright, I understand.” “I…”

“I do.” “There is more,” Lydia confessed.

“Tell me.” “Mr Hall…” “What of the pest?” “He told me that this would guarantee Victoria a proper income, that she would be tended to properly...if…” “If what?” “I said she was truly William’s, fully.” “But there is no marriage cert,” Thomas dismissed.

“With the right person, there is a manner to get one,” Charlotte stated. “Let me guess, if you did this, Mr Hall would state your claim true and with an agreement to marry him, he would get Foxgrove.”

“I am sorry.” “It is alright, I will sort this,” Charlotte swore.

“Will you report me to the police?” Lydia asked fearfully. “Whatever for?”

“For making a false claim.” “Have you made such claims to someone of note?”

“I have not.” “Then, no. I have no reason to do so. I understand your fears for you and Victoria and I know that as a mother, I would do whatever needed to look after my child, you are merely doing the same for your niece.” “I am sorry,” Lydia repeated.

“Hush now,” Charlotte urged. “I said already, I will assist you both.” “I...You will, after everything?” Lydia stared in shock. “I stated already, William wanted you cared for, I will respect that.” She smiled.

“I...How are you so kind?” “Because, Dear Lydia, I never saw you as a foe, merely a woman misfortunate enough to love a man of higher birth and to never truly be able to love him.”

“And Mr Hall?” “You continue as you are for now, and allow me to deal with our dear Mr Hall.” She smirked.

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