#i bet that shit gets rid of all headaches | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

4littlefishies · 1 year ago

Text

The 36th Floor - Drink Some Water

satoru gojo x suguru geto

warnings: imma be real, there's smut almost immediately. Enjoy ;)

wc: 6.9k

previous chapter here

The light coming through the window is enough to wake Satoru up. He rolls over in his bed, pulling the pillow over his eyes. Thinking of the night before, the feeling of sudden loneliness comes flooding back to him. Why did he have to leave? He huffs out and rolls back over to the nightstand and grabs his phone, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he picks it up. No new notifications, but he opens the conversation with Suguru. He starts rereading the last two messages to see if what he remembered was real or imaginary and realizes that they were, in fact, real. With a smile from seeing the messages again, he locks his phone and sets it back on the nightstand.

He slowly climbs out of his bed and goes to yank the curtains shut. He looks over at the clock on the dresser and it reads 11:13. I really slept in today. That’s when his head finally feels it. A dull pounding against the side of his head.

“Holy shit.” He hisses out, covering his eyes with both of his hands, hoping to get some sort of relief. He slowly makes his way back towards the bed and crawls back in, shoving his face deep into his pillow. The room was successfully dimmed enough by the curtains that Satoru was able to close his eyes and quickly fall back asleep, finding that that was the only relief for the pounding headache he felt.

When he opens his eyes again, it’s 12:25. “I guess I should try to get up now.” He grumbles to himself, slowly sitting up. He makes his way to the bathroom and downs a glass of water, finally realizing how dehydrated he felt. He quickly fills up and downs a second glass before turning on the shower, hoping to wash off this terrible feeling. This is why you don’t drink, he reminds himself as he twists on the shower. The water starts flowing and he leans against the counter for a moment, waiting for the water to heat up.

I wonder when he left? Satoru racks his brain, thinking about the night before, but he can’t seem to think about anything other than the overwhelming happiness he felt the entire time just from being around Suguru. He smiles to himself as he sticks his hand in the water and quickly yanks it back with a sharp inhale. “Ah!” He yelps out before immediately turning the water temperature down just a bit, shaking his head. Satoru strips and steps into the shower, letting the water run over him, closing his eyes and taking in the feeling of the hot water cascading down his skin.

A deep sigh leaves his chest as he leans up against the cool tile wall, his head still dully aching. “I’m never doing that again.” He says out loud, standing back up to put his face into the hot water before rubbing his hands roughly over his face, trying to wake himself up more. He thinks about everything that happened the night before with Suguru. First the ramen, and then just the entirety of watching the movie with him, and then sitting and talking until they both fell asleep out in the living room. He smiles to himself as he remembers it all.

Satoru remembers the electric feeling that coursed through his body at the accidental touches between him and Suguru as well. It felt like little lightning strikes every time they touched. He shivers slightly as a tingle makes its way down his spine, not able to think about anything else. He remembers how Suguru rested his head on his shoulder on the train, even if it was just for a moment. He remembers poking him in the arm and how strong it felt under the split second touch. He could carry me with ease, Satoru thinks so himself, imagining it in his head. Blood, accompanied by a familiar feeling makes its way between his legs as he finds his mind wandering. I bet he’d have no problem holding me up while he- Stop that. Friends don’t think about their friends like that. He can’t help it, though, because as he shakes his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, one of his hands is already wrapped around the base of his now quickly hardening dick.

“Fuuuck,” He sighs out as he looks down at it. He softly closes his eyes and lets his head fall back as his hand starts to move up and down slowly, to start. His movements quickly become eager as the throbbing feeling between his legs grows stronger, his dick now fully hard. He pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth as he keeps a steady pace, the water continuing to fall over him. “Hah,” He breathes out into the steamy shower. He rests his other arm on the wall in front of him, leaning his forehead against his forearm that rests against the cool tile.

Nothing more than soft pants leave his mouth as he opens his eyes and stares down, his tip visibly red and sensitive. He watches as his hand moves, but quickly closes his eyes again, unable to keep them open at the feeling. His hand squeezes tighter towards the tip, like he’s trying to pull his own orgasm out, letting out a quiet breathy moan at the feeling. I wish he was here. Fuck, if only he were here. He doesn’t even try to stop thinking about him in this moment; Suguru is the only thing on his mind as Satoru grows closer to his climax.

His hand starts to move at a quicker pace now, imagining as if it were Suguru’s hand doing it instead of his own. “Fuck,” He breathes out quietly once again, now standing back up as he feels himself come closer and closer to the edge. He keeps his eyes closed as he continues thinking about Suguru as he finally tips over the edge, soft breathy whimpers falling from his mouth into the steamy shower as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand’s movement slows down to a snail's pace, his tip quickly becoming over sensitive as the mess washes down the drain. His breaths are shaky but deep like he just got done running up several flights of stairs. His cheeks feel hot and he’s suddenly aware of how his wet hair sticks to his forehead. As he steps forward under the water, letting it fall over his face, he continues to breathe heavily, still coming down from the high. He closes his eyes as the water falls onto his face, no longer remembering about the headache he had entered the shower with. A soft smile sits on his face as he turns back around, letting his hair get some attention from the water. I don’t think there’s any going back after that.

He laughs softly, shaking his head to himself before heading into the normal order of his shower routine, deciding not to think too much about what he just did. First he would shampoo and condition his snowy white hair, following that up by washing his face, then body. Finally, he would shave the small amount of hair that grew on his face, always liking to keep it bare from anything. He stands under the hot water, his skin now red from the temperature, and closes his eyes for a moment longer before turning around and switching the water off.

Satoru makes his way through his normal morning routine - brushing his teeth, skincare, hair - and is feeling much more like his normal self afterwards. “As long as this headache is fixed by some ibuprofen, I think I’ll be alright, Shi.” He calls out to the white fluff at the foot of his bed as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get it looking as perfect as he could. She doesn’t even lift her head at the sound of her name. “You never answer me.” He says, furrowing his eyebrows as he walks past her and into the closet. The memory of her immediately jumping up into Suguru’s lap makes him smile as he pulls out some black sweats and a white tshirt. He grabs a black hoodie to go on top and pulls it on just as he hears his phone ring.

Satoru makes his way over to his nightstand and sees that Shoko is calling. He picks it up and presses the green button before pressing the phone to his ear. “Good morning Shoko!” He says, happy to talk to her.

“1pm is hardly morning.” Shoko says as Satoru heads out into the living room.

“Well I had a late night so I get to have a late morning too.” He says, trying to defend himself. Shoko laughs through the phone quickly before moving on.

“Yeah, sounds like you can’t handle your liquor to me.” Shoko says, teasing. Satoru glares at her even though he knows that she can’t see.

“I want you to know that I’m glaring at you right now.” Satoru says in an irritated sounding voice, earning another chuckle out of Shoko. He sits down in the same chair that he sat in last night when he was with Suguru.

“Whatever.” She says, making a quick pause. Satoru stretches out his legs as he sits down and hangs his head and arms over the back of the chair. “You’re going to the work party tonight, right?” Satoru’s eyes widen as he realizes what day it is.

“Shit, that’s tonight?” He says, sitting up and planting his feet back on the floor. He squeezes his eyes shut, mentally kicking himself that he would forget about that and on top of that, drink too much the night before.

“What? Did you forget?” Shoko asks. Satoru looks out at the view from his seat, remembering it looking much better last night while Suguru was here. Right now it just looked… dull.

“I did not forget. I just didn’t realize that today was that day.” He says, trying to smooth talk his way out of it and failing miserably. He knows that Shoko is on the other side shaking her head in disapproval. In his defense, he’s been so absolutely slammed at work this entire week preparing for the visit yesterday that the party had completely slipped his mind.

“Sure, whatever, it doesn’t matter. If you want, meet at my place at 5:15 and you, Suguru, and I can all head over together. I already talked to him, we were just waiting for you to come back from the dead.” Shoko continues on, choosing to ignore his antics.

He’s gonna be there. Duh! He works with you, of course he’s gonna be there, Satoru. He rubs his face with his free hand. “I’ll be there.” He says, now a bit more excited about how the night is going to go. Before this, he wasn’t sure if Suguru was even planning on going to the party for sure. How am I going to look at him again without imploding on myself?

“Good, because I’m planning on having a great night if you know what I mean.” Satoru laughs at her comment, knowing that it means he’s going to be taking care of an extremely drunk Shoko all night once again.

“Can’t wait.” He says in a not-so-enthusiastic voice.

“5:15.” She says once more.

“I’ll be there, Shoko.” He says before hanging up the phone. He sits in the chair for a moment, just looking at the view that had seemed so perfect last night. It wasn’t so much this view as it was him.

Satoru smiles as he stands up and heads towards the front door where he grabs his keys and wallet from the table. After putting everything in his pockets, he pulls on some sneakers and grabs his sunglasses and headphones from the table. He puts the glasses on and sticks the headphones into his ears before he heads out the front door. Clicking play on his music, he makes his way into the elevator and makes it all the way down to the lobby without stopping. He makes his way out of the building and heads towards the station.

All he wanted to do right now was shove a giant pastry from his favorite cafe into his mouth and wash it down with the sweetest coffee you’ve ever tasted. His long legs quickly carry him to the station and as he waits for the next train, he likes to look around at all the different people waiting alongside him. He smiles to himself, thinking about the outrageous stories he thinks Suguru would come up with for each of them, not even bothering to think of any for himself.

The next train quickly approaches and Satoru takes a seat next to the window, the train only about half full. He looks through his phone at the last texts from Suguru once more. ‘Just thought I’d let you know that I made it home. Thanks again for dinner, it was really fun :)’ He smiles to himself as he reads it again and again before deciding to send one back.

‘I’m happy you had a good time! See you tonight ✌🏼😋’ Satoru types out and clicks send. Almost as soon as it’s sent, he sees the bubbles that indicate Suguru’s typing. He feels his heart beat harder just at the sight. He stares at the three little dots on the screen that continue to move until they eventually disappear. Satoru feels slightly disappointed and closes his phone and slides it into his pocket, just in time for it to ding. Quickly pulling his phone back out of his pocket, he sees the notification for a text from Suguru and his heart instantly picks back up again.

‘I’m happy you’re alive after last night! See you tonight :)’ Satoru smiles as he reads the text. He quickly realizes that the stop approaching is the one he needs to get off at. He stands up and grabs one of the hand holds as the train comes to a stop. He steps out as soon as the doors open and heads towards the direction of the cafe, much like as if he were going to work, but with just two fewer turns.

As he walks down the sidewalk to the beat of the music playing in his ears, he has his hands shoved into his pockets, trying to keep warm from the chilly December air. His quick pace makes the walk feel even shorter as he quickly makes it to the cafe. He pulls open the door and plucks his headphones out of his ears, putting them back in the case before sliding it into his pocket.

Approaching the counter, Yuji comes out from the back, the normals smile on his face as he sees Satoru. “Hi Gojo!” He calls out as he comes up to stand behind the register.

“Hey Yuji,” Satoru replies with a smile as he reaches the counter, already looking at the pastries and other treats behind the glass of the display case to the side.

“No Geto today?” Yuji asks, now used to seeing the two in the cafe as a pair. Satoru straightens up, his eyebrows raised.

“Huh? Oh, um, yeah, he’s probably at home or doing something on his own, I don’t know.” Satoru says as he eyes the cheese danishes at the top of the case, furrowing his eyebrows as he answers. Yuji looks back at him, slightly confused.

“Hm, he was in here earlier and I was just confused as to why you wouldn’t come in together.” Satoru raises his eyebrows once again at the mention that Suguru was in here earlier, but also at Yuji’s comment.

“What do you mean?” Satoru says, looking back at Yuji with confusion painted on his face.

“Aren’t you guys together?” Yuji asks. Immediately Satoru feels his face get hot and his eyes widen. He becomes a flustered mess just thinking about it and laughs awkwardly, trying to think of how to respond.

“Uh,” He chuckles once more, trying to respond. “No, we’re just friends.” He says, smiling at the young man behind the counter.

“Oh!” He says, not seeming to be worried about being wrong about their relationship. “Well I think you two would make a nice couple.” Yuji finishes with a smile. Satoru feels his face and now his ears get even hotter and he can’t help but smile back at Yuji with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

He orders a few pastries and other treats to take home and of course one for right now. The table in the back corner where he normally sits is taken, so Satoru reluctantly takes a seat at another table across the way from it, unable to do anything about the woman already seated in his favorite spot. The box of pastries in his hand is set to the side as he sits down and eats a chocolate croissant that he had picked out. It was warmed up to the perfect temperature that made it taste like the most amazing thing that he’d ever eaten. He sits and smiles now knowing that Yuji thought that he and Suguru were together. I think we would make a nice couple too, but that’s not gonna happen, Satoru finds himself thinking, growing disappointed at the thought.

We’re just friends. Friends don’t think about their friends like that, Satoru. He presses his lips together at the thought. Yeah, well they also don’t masturbate to the thought of the other one in the shower so, what about that part? He argues with himself in his head as he quickly finishes his chocolate croissant and his terribly sweet coffee and puts his headphones in before standing up and making sure to grab his box of pastries. Yuji waves as Satoru makes his way out, giving a wave back to Yuji as the door swings closed behind him.

With the brown box tucked safely under his arm, he makes his way back towards the station. What am I gonna wear tonight? He thinks, mentally going through his closet as he continues walking to the upbeat song playing in his ears. He has an outfit in mind that he thinks will fit the occasion, as well as hopefully turn some heads. There was one that he especially was hoping to turn.

Just before 3pm, Satoru walks back through his front door. He empties his keys and wallet back into the bowl and heads into the kitchen, setting the box of pastries onto the island. He turns around at the sound of a small meow behind him on the floor.

“Well if it isn’t Shiro. You know, you could've fooled me. I thought you didn’t like me anymore, baby.” He says, scooping her into his arms and picking her up, cradling her close to his chest. Satoru makes his way out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, Shiro still cuddled up in his arms. He sets her down in her spot at the foot of the bed and heads into the bathroom, grabbing another ibuprofen to take before he has to start getting ready for the party.

Since it was for work, the company had rented out a restaurant in the city. This was a tradition that would happen every December, and every year that Satoru has worked with Shoko, she’s blacked out at this party. He shakes his head at the thought. He had begged Utahime to have there not be an open bar at the party this year, but she just shooed him away, not wanting to hear it.

Satoru decides that he should eat something before he gets ready, so he heads back to the kitchen and checks out what he has for ingredients. He decides on making some quick and easy chicken and rice with a little steamed broccoli on the side. It wasn’t the most exciting meal in the world, but it would work for getting through today.

He makes quick work of cutting up the chicken and getting it cooking in the pan. Shiro comes out of the bedroom and sits on the floor behind Satoru as he cooks at the stove. He throws some broccoli in the microwave so that it can steam while he cooks the chicken and the rice cooks in the small machine on the counter. Surprisingly quickly, Satoru is plating up the food and setting it on the dining table. He runs back into the kitchen to grab a pair of chopsticks before sitting back down at the table.

It’s nothing special, but it gets the job done. He quickly finishes up eating, making sure to put the leftovers in the fridge. Making his way back into the bedroom, he looks at his hair in the mirror just inside his bedroom door. “Woah.” He says, noting the messy pieces. He brushes his fingers through it, successfully smoothing down the pieces that were previously sticking up in various directions. He flashes himself a smile in the mirror and continues on into his bathroom.

He washes his face and dries it with the towel before putting on a little bit more moisturizer, feeling dry from the cold winter air. He then focuses much more on his hair, making sure that not a single hair was out of place, even lightly spraying it with hair spray to make sure it stayed nice the whole night. After he’s pleased with the way it looks, he flicks off the light and heads back out into his bedroom and into his closet.

Satoru rifles through the hanging pants until he finds the straight leg black trousers he’s looking for. He hangs them to the side and goes back to find a white button up knit collared shirt with short sleeves, which are cuffed. He pulls the two pieces out and hangs them on the back of his closet door as he strips out of his sweats and shirt. Music plays softly through the speaker on his dresser as he pulls the neatly hung pants off of the hanger and steps into them before he pulls them up. He unbuttons the shirt before pulling it over his arms and buttoning it up, leaving the top two buttons opened. He tucks it into his plants, leaving a little bit of room to move around. Finally, he grabs a black leather belt with a silver rectangular buckle and slips it through the loops on his pants, pulling it tight and slipping it back through the buckle to secure it.

Pulling open the top drawer of his dresser, he pulls out a pair of purple socks with brightly colored fish on them. “No one’s gonna see these, so might as well have some fun, huh Shi?” He says, looking over at Shiro who was still sitting at her spot on the bed, looking over at Satoru as he pulls on the socks. He rubs her on the head as he passes back by, earning a surprised noise out of her which puts a smile on Satoru’s face.

He walks back into the bathroom and flicks the light back on, checking his hair once more and deciding on Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille as his scent for the night. He spritzes it a couple times over his neck and one on each wrist before setting it back on the tray on his counter alongside various other scents. For the last time, Satoru flicks off the bathroom light and beads back into his closet.

He picks up a simple silver chain from the small hooks along the back of one of the segments of his closet, unclasping it and hooking it back behind the back of his neck again with ease. Finally, he opens a drawer full of watches and pulls out one of the 4 silver ones he has. He slips the watch onto his wrist and clasps it closed as he turns off the light in his closet and shuts the door behind him. He takes one last look at himself in the mirror next to his bedroom door before he exits back out into the main living room.

Satoru opens up the closet near the front door and grabs out a black leather jacket to pull the entire look together, but also to keep him warm on his way over to Shoko’s and then to the restaurant. He finishes it up by pulling on his pair of black chelsea boots before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bowl. Satoru drops his wallet into his back pocket and grabs his sunglasses, putting them on before pulling open the front door and stepping out into the hallway. “I’ll be back later, Shi!” He calls out into the apartment behind him as he pulls the door closed, ensuring that it’s locked behind him before putting his keys in his pocket.

He looks down at his watch, hoping that he isn’t running behind. 4:55. I should be good if I walk quickly and don’t miss the 5:00 train. Thankfully, for the second time that day, Satoru is able to make it all the way down to the lobby without the elevator having to stop on the way down. He pushes open the large doors of the building and sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket as the chilly air hits him.

His long legs carry him quickly to the station in time for the 5:00 train. Satoru takes an empty seat close to the door and pulls out his phone, seeing a text from Shoko.

‘You better be on your way.’ Satoru reads from 2 minutes ago. He unlocks his phone and his fingers quickly type out the response before sending it back.

‘I am on the train as we type.’ Satoru shoots back at her. Shoko immediately reads it, but doesn’t send back an answer. He smiles to himself as he slips his phone back into his pocket, patiently waiting for his stop which quickly approaches.

Satoru stands up and is swiftly out of the doors, trying to make it to Shoko’s quickly, but also feeling nerves building in his stomach at the thought of having to see Suguru. He’s excited, but also kind of feels like he’s going to throw up at the thought. Is this the hangover or is it anxiety? He hadn’t had so much anxiety about being around anyone ever, before Suguru. Before Satoru knows it, he see’s Shoko’s building up ahead of him, and what looks to be like Suguru walking towards him from the other direction?

The closer he gets, he recognizes that the dark long haired man walking towards him is, in fact, Suguru. Satoru smiles to himself as he sees him in something that he’s never seen him wear before. He has on a dark brown, almost coffee-colored turtleneck sweater, along with black tapered pants and a belt with a gold buckle. To wrap it all together, he had on some black oxfords and a long black coat on top. He looks absolutely perfect, Satoru thinks to himself as Suguru waves and calls out as the two get closer together.

“Yo! Satoru!” He calls out, the two meeting in front of Shoko’s apartment building. Satoru smiles back at him as he walks up to him, realizing that he looks even better up close. “You look good, man.” He says, clapping his hand onto Satoru’s shoulder. He lets it rest there for a split second before giving Satoru’s shoulder the slightest squeeze and letting his arm fall back down to his side, brushing his shoulder lightly as he lets it fall. Satoru notices the small gesture and has to control his face so as to not show that the action had any effect on him when it very much did. Holy shit, what was that?

Satoru smiles back at him as they approach the front doors of the building. Satoru types in Shoko’s apartment number on the call box and presses the call button. “You look good too!” He says back at him, turning back around to face Suguru, really getting a good look at him as they wait for Shoko to unlock the door. Suguru smiles back at him, his cheeks slightly pink. The door clicks behind Satoru and he turns back around, opening it and stepping aside, allowing Suguru to step inside first.

“Thank you,” He says, softly with a smile as he ducks past Satoru through the door, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The door closes behind Satoru and they make their way over to the elevator. Satoru presses the up arrow and turns back around to look at Suguru again. “I’m glad to see that you’re alive.” Suguru says, a smile still on his face as he looks into Satoru’s eyes. Satoru holds the eye contact for as long as he can before he has to look away or risk his face turning as red as a tomato at the small gesture. He looks down at the ground, his hands suddenly clamming up in his pockets.

“Well, i did sleep until 12:30, I think that helped a little bit.” He remembers the rest of his morning as the elevator dings and the doors open. As they step inside, Satoru finishes his sentence, pressing the button for the 14th floor. “I think taking a shower also helped me to feel better.” He says, remembering his shower from earlier in the morning, his ears starting to get hot as he thinks about it again, but now with Suguru standing less than a meter away from him. He sneaks small looks at him, unable to stop looking at how the brown sweater fits over his broad chest and his hair cascades down his back, perfect looking in his normal half up half down style.

The elevator approaches the 14th floor and opens quietly to the brightly colored mural that covers the wall. Satoru steps out first and takes a left before knocking on the 5th door down the hallway. It takes a few moments until they hear rapid footsteps approaching the door and then the sound of the lock being unlocked. Shoko pulls open the front door and looks at her friends that stand in the hallway, standing in a mid length dark green velvet dress with a slit up the leg.

“Oh hey! You’re both here!” She says, sounding excited to see the two of them. Satoru and Suguru turn to look at each other, eyebrows raised before they turn back to face Shoko.

“Are you already drunk?” Suguru asks as he follows Shoko into her apartment. Satoru follows closely behind, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. They both kick off their shoes by the door and hang up their coats, now feeling plenty warm inside of Shoko’s home. Now that Suguru’s coat is off, he pushes his sleeves up his arms, revealing the gold watch he’d picked out, along with the veins going up his arms which Satoru can’t seem to snap his attention away from.

“I’ve had a couple drinks already, yeah.” Shoko says, sitting down onto her couch, giggling back at Satoru and Suguru as they follow her into the living room. Satoru already decides that ordering an uber will be much easier than trying to wrangle Shoko to walk anywhere. He pulls out his phone and does it quickly, knowing that they will be leaving fairly soon.

“How many is a couple?” Suguru asks, sitting down in the chair next to the couch. Satoru stands back and leans his elbows on the kitchen counter, looking at the two of them from where he stood. Suguru looks back at Satoru as they wait for an answer, smiling and shaking his head before turning back to look at their already drunk friend. She fails to answer and Satoru finds a glass from one of the cabinets in the kitchen. He fills it up with water and hands it to Suguru to give to Shoko.

“How about you drink this and then we’ll go to the party, okay?” Suguru says, grabbing the glass of water from Satoru and handing it over to Shoko. She grabs it and eagerly takes a sip, looking disappointed when she realizes that it’s water. She huffs out and drinks it, knowing that her friends won’t let her leave until she does so. Suguru turns back to look at Satoru once more, the two making eye contact again, except Satoru isn’t the one to look away first. Suguru turns back to Shoko, leaving Satoru with a blush on his cheeks just at the eye contact. He smiles as he watches Shoko down her water and stand up from her spot on the couch.

“Okay let’s go!” She says, hurrying towards the front door.

“Hey slow down there, speed demon, where are your shoes?” Satoru asks, turning around to follow Shoko towards the front door. She stops and runs into her room, grabbing a pair of black heels and slipping them on, matching perfectly with the dark green dress she has on.

“You also definitely need a coat, or you’ll freeze out there.” Suguru calls out from behind, stepping up to stand behind Satoru. Close enough that Satoru is able to smell the familiar scent of warm cashmere and pine that he’s become used to. He smiles as he takes in a deep breath. Shoko grabs a long black coat from her front closet and pulls it on over her dress.

“Okay, let’s go!” She says, enthusiastically, opening the front door and grabbing her bag. The trio steps out into the hallway, Suguru making sure the door is locked behind them as they make their way back towards the elevator.

“I got us an uber,” Satoru hangs back to let Suguru know. “I think that’ll be much easier than trying to get her to walk anywhere at this point.” Suguru smiles and nods his head at Satoru as they catch up to Shoko and step into the elevator. The ride is mostly quiet - besides Shoko randomly giggling about something to herself - and they head back down to the lobby, stopping once to pick up someone else that was also heading down to the lobby.

The three of them walk out the front doors and immediately see the car waiting for them. Shoko climbs into the front seat, making Suguru and Satoru sit in the back seat together. Satoru climbs in and slides all the way through, allowing Suguru to climb in behind him. The ride is less than 10 minutes, but their knees bump against each other no less than 4 times. The first time, it’s purely an accident, causing both of them to recoil ever so slightly, not wanting to make the other uncomfortable. The second time is also an accident, as far as Satoru knows. The third time is because Satoru deliberately bumps his knee into Suguru’s, causing a smile to form on both of their faces. The fourth time, Suguru makes it very obvious that he does it on purpose, causing a small laugh to come out of Satoru’s mouth. Shoko turns around to see what’s so funny, but that’s when the driver pulls up in front of the restaurant.

“Thank you!” Satoru calls out to the driver as he follows Suguru out of the door, closing it carefully behind him. Shoko closes her door and follows the two towards the front doors of the restaurant. Satoru hurries in front of them and opens the door, allowing both of them inside, earning a “Thank you,” out of both Shoko and Suguru as they enter. Immediately, they see the restaurant is filled with coworkers, as well as many of their partners. Satoru spots Nanami talking with Yaga towards the front of the room. I didn’t know he was gonna be here, Satoru thinks as he notices them. He still feels bad about his presentation from the morning before. I’ll just stay away from him for tonight.

Shoko immediately spots Utahime over by the bar and runs off to talk to her, leaving Suguru and Satoru standing alone together, unsure of what to do now. “Do you want something to drink?” Suguru asks, looking over at Satoru who shakes his head.

“I think I’m good, especially after last night.” He says, remembering his pounding headache from this morning.

“Not even a Shirley Temple with extra grenadine and extra cherries?” Suguru asks, raising his eyebrows in fake surprise. Satoru smiles uncontrollably. He remembered my drink. He thinks for a moment, looking up into the ceiling.

“Actually, I would love one of those, Suguru.” He finally responds, allowing his name to drip out of his mouth, sounding warm and comforting. Suguru smiles as he turns around to walk towards the bar.

“I’ll be right back, Satoru.” He says, returning his name in the same way. Satoru blushes at the sound of it, turning around to look at who else he sees in the crowd. He notices that Shoko and Utahime have moved to a table, and they seem to now be joined by Ijichi and Haibara. Shoko looked to be telling an extravagant story with the way she’s throwing her arms around. Satoru smiles to himself, happy to see that she's having a good time. He’s easily the best dressed person here, Satoru thinks with a smirk as he looks around at the restaurant full of his coworkers.

Suguru quickly comes back holding two drinks in his hands. Satoru holds out his hands and grabs the one that is very obviously his. “Thanks Suguruuu.” Satoru says, drawing out his name. Suguru smiles as he takes a sip of his drink, giving it a taste.

“Back corner?” He asks, gesturing towards an empty table in the corner of the room. Satoru turns to look and faces Suguru once again with a giant smile on his face at the suggestion.

“Oh absolutely!” Satoru calls out, excitedly. He heads back towards the corner, feeling Suguru following closely behind. They quickly reach the table and take seats in two of the four chairs at the table. This section of the restaurant was much less saturated with people, so it was much more quiet and easy to hear each other talk. “I don’t think I know who even a quarter of these people are, do we really work with them?” Satoru asks, looking at Suguru as he sits down in the chair. Suguru lets out a chuckle at Satoru’s question. I’ll ask a million stupid questions just to hear that sound; it’s music to my ears.

“I think most of them, yeah.” He answers, still smiling at the question from Satoru. “But I still only know a couple people here.” Suguru says, slipping his coat off and over the back of his chair. He pushes his sleeves back up, revealing his gold watch and several rings that Satoru hadn’t noticed until now. He swallows thickly and his eyes widen slightly at the sight. He’s thankful that Suguru is looking down at his drink so that he doesn’t see his reaction. Satoru also decides to shrug his jacket off over his chair, revealing his bare arms and his silver watch upon his wrist. “I like your watch.” Suguru says as Satoru rests his elbows on the table, earning a smile from him.

“Thanks,” He says, his nose scrunching slightly as he says it. “My parents got it for me as a present when I finished school.” Satoru explains, remembering the day he received it. Suguru smiles, taking another sip of his drink, the ice sliding around as he moves the glass. Satoru’s eyes flicker back down to the gold watch on Suguru’s wrist. “I like your watch too.” He blurts out, earning another chuckle from Suguru.

“Thank you,” He starts, bringing one arm up to scratch the back of his neck at the compliment. “It used to be my dad’s but he gave it to me when I finished school.” He explains, having a very similar story to Satoru’s. The two of them smile as they realize it. Satoru and Suguru suddenly hear a yell and turn around to see Shoko excitedly explaining something, now with more people gathered around her table listening to whatever story she’s telling.

“How long before we have to drag her out of here?” Satoru asks, pointing his thumb back at Shoko. Suguru smiles and breathes out of his nose. He looks down at the table, trying to take a real guess.

“Well, it’s almost 6 now, so maybe 9:30 at the latest?” Suguru suggests, trying to actually be realistic.

“That’s what I was gonna say!” Satoru shoots back, excitedly, his voice raising slightly. Suguru smiles at his excited response. Satoru sips on his drink, quickly finishing it and eating the cherries sitting in the bottom of the glass. Suguru also finishes his first drink at the same time.

“You want another one?” Suguru asks, standing up and grabbing the two empty glasses.

“Oh don’t worry I can-” Satoru starts, but Suguru cuts him off abruptly, shaking his head and holding up his hand to stop Satoru from standing up.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it. One more?” Satoru swears his heart skips a beat in his chest and smiles up at Suguru, seeing his bangs hang slightly in front of his honey brown eyes. He nods his head with nothing more than a smile. He couldn’t even say anything if he wanted to in that moment. Holy shit, I’m going to lose my mind, he’s actually going to be the death of me. Satoru thinks to himself, watching as Suguru walks back up to the bar. As he approaches the bar and talks to the bartender, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He seems to read a text and looks back up to the bartender, looking like he’s telling them something.

Satoru looks down at his phone as he waits for Suguru to come back, not wanting to just be staring at him the whole time. He’s scrolling instagram when Suguru walks back up and sets his drink down on the table in front of him.

“Hey, um- I’ll be back, but my neighbor just texted me saying that there’s an alarm or something going off in my apartment, so I gotta go see what it is, but I should be back soon.” Suguru says, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. Not even bothering to sit back down at the table. Satoru feels a pang of disappointment in his chest at the sound of that.

“Oh, yeah, no worries! I’ll be here when you get back.” Satoru says, looking up at him with a smile. Suguru’s eyes squeeze nearly shut with the smile he gives Satoru before turning and heading towards the front doors, quickly opening them and making his way out of the restaurant into the cold December air.

“I guess I’ll go see what Shoko’s up to.” Satoru says to himself, standing up from the table and grabbing his drink, as well as his coat. He makes his way over to the table; the crowd that had gathered around was now dispersed and only Shoko, Utahime, and Ijichi remained at the table. “Is this seat taken?” He asks as he puts his hand on the back of the empty chair next to Shoko. She quickly turns her head upon hearing the voice behind her.

“Gojo! Where have you been?” She asks excitedly as Satoru sits down in the chair next to her. Utahime rolls her eyes and lets out a dramatic sigh.

“You know you love me, Utahime. You’re just mad because you don’t get to go to Shanghai with us.” She shakes her head.

“I’d rather eat dirt than be stuck with you for a 3 day weekend.” Utahime shoots back, crossing her arms with a disgusted look on her face.

“You’re my favorite coworker too, Utahimeee.” He says, drawing out the end of her name. Shoko is entertained by the interaction but Ijichi just looks horrified.

“They’re always like this.” Shoko does her best to whisper, holding up her hands as a barrier between Satoru and Utahime. Ijichi smiles at the statement, just happy to be there.

“How ya feelin’?” Satoru asks, turning his attention over to Shoko, resting the side of his head on his hand that’s propped up on his elbow. She turns to look at him and has what is very clearly a drunken smile on her face.

“Not drunk enough.” She says, mirroring Satoru’s position, leaning her head on her hand. Satoru smiles at her as she does so, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

“You are crazy.” He says, widening his eyes and jetting out his head towards her.

“I’m getting another drink.” She says, standing up and making her way back over towards the bar.

“I told you, Utahime, we shouldn’t have had the open bar.” Satoru says, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“I’m gonna go with Shoko.” She says, ignoring him and suddenly standing up before turning to swiftly follow behind her. Satoru takes a deep breath and furrows his eyebrows and turns to look at Ijichi, the only one left at the table.

“How you doin’, Ijichi?” Satoru asks, sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table once more, clasping his fingers together.

“I’m good, thanks.” He starts, quietly. “How are you?” He asks back, trying to be polite.

“I’m also good, thanks for asking, Ijichi.” He says, smiling at him before asking him a question. “You drinking anything?”

Ijichi stutters a moment before responding. “Uh- no, just water, I guess.” Satoru looks taken aback at his comment, putting his hand to his chest as if he had just been shot.

“Not even a soda or something?” He asks, dramatically, looking over as a slightly terrified looking Ijichi. He just shakes his head. Satoru looks at him for a moment, thinking about his next question. “You like Shoko, huh?” He asks, a smirk on his face as Ijichi’s face turns a bright red. He becomes a flustered mess, not knowing what to say.

“Uh, wha- what? I-” He chuckles nervously, trying to think of an answer while Satoru watches him squirm in his seat.

“I’m just messin’ with ya,” Satoru says, waving his hand at him, a smile on his face as he sees Shoko and Utahime heading back towards the table. Ijichi feels a huge relief when they walk up behind him, taking their same seats as before. Shoko now has a drink in each hand, and Satoru looks over at Utahime. “What kind of friend are you, letting her get this drunk, and at a work event? Ugh.” He says, sighing dramatically, just trying to mess with Utahime. If she had rolled her eyes any harder, they would’ve popped out of her head. Satoru laughs at the sight, looking back over at Shoko when a voice comes through the speakers in the ceiling.

“He-Hello? Can everybody hear me?” Says a voice. Everyone looks around, trying to find the source of the familiar voice of their boss, Nanami. Eventually, everyone is turned to look at him as he stands in the middle of the main room. “Hello, everyone, first off, I want to thank you all for being here tonight.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit” Suguru hisses out as he reads the text from his next door neighbor. He slips his phone back in his pocket and leans back over towards the bartender. “Can I actually just have the shirley temple?” He asks. The man behind the bar nods his head and adds the extra cherries into Satoru’s drink before placing it on the small napkin in front of Suguru. “Thank you!” He says with a smile as he picks up the drink, walking back to Satoru at the table in the corner. He feels disappointment, knowing that he’ll have to leave, especially when Satoru is waiting for him dressed like that. His biceps underneath the cuffs of the white knitted top he’s wearing. The top two buttons undone and the chain against his pale chest. His long legs in the straight black pants, all of it together was driving him crazy. He approaches the table and sets down Satoru’s drink in front of him, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, um- I’ll be back, but my neighbor just texted me saying that there’s an alarm or something going off in my apartment, so I gotta go see what it is, but I should be back soon.” Suguru says, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. He swears he sees Satoru’s face flicker with sadness, but if he’s actually sad, he hides it well.

“Oh, yeah, no worries! I’ll be here when you get back.” Satoru says, looking up at him with that smile. God, he makes it even harder to leave. Suguru’s eyes squeeze nearly shut with the smile he gives Satoru before turning and heading towards the front doors, putting his coat on as he walks. He pushes the door open, holding it for a few of his coworkers walking inside.

He takes an immediate right and looks down at the map he has pulled up on his phone to get back to his apartment. It’s only a 20 minute walk, so he decides to enjoy the way back to his apartment, taking in his new surroundings. He smiles to himself, already thinking about Satoru waiting for him to get back. I don’t even know how someone could look so good in an outfit. He shakes his head as he continues on down the sidewalk, shoving his phone back in his pocket, trying to keep his hands warm. The walk is uneventful, but he finds himself unable to think about anything other than what Satoru is doing, if he’s having a good time, or perhaps if he’s waiting for his return.

His long legs make quick work of the walk and he sees his building come into view. Suguru pulls open the front door and heads straight for the stairs. He runs up the stairs, skipping steps as he goes. He sighs and shakes his head in annoyance as he hears the alarm his neighbor was describing as he makes it up to the third floor of the building, hearing his phone ding in his pocket at the same time, but choosing to ignore it for now.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Shoko, you really need to slow down, or I’m gonna have to take you home.” Satoru warns as Shoko sips on her drink through a straw, looking at him with glossed over eyes. “You need some water.” He says, placing a glass of water in front of her that he had Ijichi grab from the bar for him. He takes the glass out of her hand and replaces it with the glass of water. She doesn’t even seem to notice when Satoru puts her straw into the water. He’s just happy that she’s drinking some water, even if he has to trick her to do it.

“Why don’t you guys jus’ kiss already?” Shoko blurts out, looking over with her eyebrows furrowed like she's trying to seem intimidating. Satoru’s face turns bright red and hot to the touch as he nearly chokes on nothing but air. He almost feels like his body goes numb from the waist down.

“Uh- what?” Satoru asks, trying to seem like he has no idea what she’s talking about. Shoko doesn’t answer and just laughs in Satoru’s face, not even remembering what she had just asked her friend. Satoru feels like his heart is going to explode out of his chest as he thinks about what Shoko just said. What the fuck? Can she read minds or something? Am I really that obvious? His mind is racing with a million different things as Shoko continues laughing like a maniac. “You really are something, you know that? I think it’s about time we get you home.” Satoru says, standing up and pulling on his jacket. Shoko whines out in protest, but Satoru doesn’t want to hear any of it. He successfully ushers her up out of her seat and towards the front door.

“I don’t wanna yet thoo,” She cries out as Satoru puts her arms into her coat, pulling it up to her shoulders. Satoru puts his arm around her waist loosely, trying to keep her upright as she walks.

“Shoko, I already have an uber waiting. If you wanna keep going, you can do it in your own home, okay?” He says, knowing that he hasn’t even ordered it yet and just needs an excuse to get her out the door. He holds open the front door, allowing Shoko out first and he follows her out, pulling out his phone to order an uber, which thankfully there are plenty around. By the time Satoru gets Shoko out towards the curb, the driver is pulling up. He gets Shoko into the car first and then climbs in after her.

The ride is short, yet Shoko manages to make small talk with the driver and becomes quick friends with him. Satoru smiles as the two talk, Shoko very obviously drunk out of her mind, and the driver that just goes along with it. Shit. Satoru thinks as they turn the corner onto Shoko’s street. He pulls out his phone and starts a short text to Suguru, remembering that he said he would be there when he returned.

~~~~~~~~~~

Suguru makes his way back to the restaurant about an hour after he first left. As it turned out, the alarm was in fact not coming from his apartment and his neighbor just wasted his time without even thinking to ask any of the other neighbors. He was trying not to make enemies with his neighbors, but this one in particular is already on Suguru’s bad side. Already irritated by having to leave in the first place, he feels like he has smoke coming out of his ears on the walk back to the party. He eventually calms back down thinking about getting back to hanging out with Satoru, and Shoko if she’s around, but mostly Satoru.

By the time Suguru makes it back to the restaurant, Satoru and Shoko have left. He looks around the entire restaurant, starting in the back corner where he left Satoru, only to see the table taken up by a couple of coworkers he recognized from when he was training with Haibara. He makes his way over towards the direction where he last saw Shoko, but doesn’t see them there either. What the hell? He feels a pang of hurt in his chest as he sees Haibara at a table nearby.

“Hey, Haibara,” He starts out, causing Haibara to turn around, drink in hand to see who it was.

“Oh, hey Geto!” He says, clearly excited to see Suguru. “I feel like I haven’t seen you since you got drone training!”

Suguru laughs awkwardly, not completely sure of what to say. “Yeah, I’ve been busy… Sorry to bother you, but you haven’t seen Satoru or Shoko anywhere, have you?” Haibara shakes his head no, but one of the other men at the table speaks up after hearing Suguru ask his question.

“I saw them leaving together just a little bit ago!” He calls out, his drink sloshing as he talks and his cheeks pink. Everyone at this table was very obviously drunk and feeling rowdy. “They looked pretty touchy on their way out, i wouldn’t be surprised if-”

“Thank you.” Suguru says, cutting off the man’s sentence before he could finish it. He clenches his jaw, turning around and heading towards the front door. What the fuck? What the fuck??? He feels like he’s just been punched in the stomach. I just need to get some air. Suguru bursts out of the front doors of the restaurant, opting to sit on one of the benches just outside. He puts his elbows on his knees and rests his head in his hands, taking a deep breath. What am I even upset about in the first place? It’s not like we’re together. Suguru stares at the ground in front of him, taking a few deep breaths before pulling his phone out of his pocket, thinking to check his notifications.

Suguru sees two text notifications. One from Satoru from 4 minutes ago, and one from Shoko about 30 minutes ago. He checks the one from Shoko first, knowing that this was the ding that his phone made when he reached his apartment. Suguru clicks on the notification and his eyes widen as he reads the message.

‘why dk t u guys jist kiss alreaxyy??’

He feels himself go stiff as he reads the words on his screen, even if they are horribly misspelled. What the hell? How much more did she drink while I was gone? He forgets that he was even upset and thinks about Satoru, smiling at the thought, even though Shoko never even mentioned a name. Do I really show it that much? He worries about being too obvious about how he feels about Satoru, especially around Shoko who somehow notices everything. He shakes his head and tries to forget about it, writing it off to more of Shoko’s drunken ramblings and goes to open the text from Satoru.

‘Call me when u get this’ It reads. He feels a weight lift off of his shoulders as he reads it, not even having a clue as to what he was thinking was happening just moments ago. He clicks on Satoru’s contact card and presses his phone number before pressing his phone to his ear. It rings once, before he hears the noise of Satoru answering and Shoko making noise in the background.

“Get into bed or drink some water! Pick one I don’t care!” He yells at her, very obviously keeping his mouth away from the phone so as to not shout directly into Suguru’s ear. “Hey, sorry about that, come to Sho’s.” Satoru says, a smile on his face upon hearing Satoru’s voice on the other side of the phone. “Where are you?” He asks as Suguru stands up.

“Uh, I’m back at the restaurant, why?” Suguru asks, slowly starting to walk towards the direction of Shoko’s apartment.

“I’m sending you an uber, see you when you get here, I’ve got a drunkie to take care of in the meantime.” Satoru says before the phone call abruptly ends. Suguru laughs to himself upon hearing the chaos that awaits him at Shoko’s place. The car soon after pulls up and Suguru climbs in the back seat. The ride is silent, except for the soft “Thank you,” that Suguru says as he climbs out of the car, now in front of Shoko’s apartment. He walks up and types her apartment number on the call box, not having to wait long for the front door to click and allow him to pull it open.

The whole elevator ride up, Suguru’s preparing himself to see Satoru again, excited to be back with his friends. The elevator doors open to reveal the mural on the 14th floor and Suguru makes his way to Shoko’s door, giving the handle a try to see if it’s open, and to his surprise, it turns. He pushes open the door and makes his way into Shoko’s home, taking off his shoes before walking in further and locking the door behind him.

“Shoko?” He calls out into the apartment, not wanting to alarm either of them with his presence. “Satoru?” He adds, making his way in towards the living room where he finally sees Satoru sitting on the couch, holding a long pointer finger up to his lips, indicating that he needs to be quiet.

“Shhhh.” Satoru says with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as Suguru joins him in the living room, taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack next to the hallway. “She’s sleeping, I hope.” Satoru says softly as Suguru sits down next to him on the couch, a fairly small gap between the two. Suguru smiles, looking over at Satoru who looked somehow even better now. His hair disheveled, his shirt slightly untucked.

“Looks like she really put you through it.” Suguru says, with a smile. Satoru can’t help but smile at the ground as he looks at himself. Damn, he really looks good.

“Yeah she got me good. She didn't even make it to 8, let alone 9:30” He responds, laughing quietly. “Did you get the alarm figured out?” Satoru asks, curious about where Suguru had to disappear to.

“It turns out it wasn’t even coming from my apartment.” Suguru explains, causing Satoru’s mouth to fall open dramatically.

“No way.” Satoru says, putting his hands to his cheeks and letting his mouth fall open.

“Okay, I feel like you’re mocking me.” Suguru teases as Satoru continues with the gestures and faces. They sit in silence for a couple moments before Suguru speaks up again. “Did you have a good night, at least?” He asks leaning back and resting his elbow over the back of the couch, his upper body now turned towards Satoru, who looks back at him in the dimly lit living room.

“It was alright, but if I’m being honest, I much rather would've just hung out with you all night.” Satoru says, looking down at the ground before turning back to look at Suguru. He feels like his entire body is instantaneously on fire hearing him say that. He thinks back to the text from Shoko earlier. Does she know something that I don’t? Suguru imagines grabbing Satoru’s face and just kissing him in the moment. He longs to know how his lips feel against his, how his mouth tastes, what his skin feels like under his touch. Suguru doesn’t know how to respond, other than with a smile. You’re really thinking about kissing him right now? Friends don’t think that about their friends, Suguru, he thinks to himself, knowing perfectly well that he wishes they were more than friends.

“Me too.” He says quietly, rubbing the back of his head nervously. He fidgets with his hair, running his hand through it and brushing his fingers through the ends, not ever wanting his time with Satoru to end, but also knowing that he has a cat at home. “If you need to take care of Shiro, I can stay here, Satoru.” He says, looking over as the white haired man raises his eyebrows.

“Aw, you really don’t have to do that Suguru.” Satoru says, reluctantly standing up from his spot on the couch.

“No really, it’s okay. She’s probably hungry.” He says, a smile on his face thinking about the fuzzy white cat waiting for Satoru to come home and feed her. “I’ll get you a ride.” He says, looking up at Satoru as he heads over to grab his coat off of the rack.

“No, don’t worry about it, I can take the tra-”

Suguru cuts him off once again. “Too late,” He says, looking over at Satoru with a smile. “It’s already on its way.” He says, cheerily, knowing that he’s lying. Satoru shakes his head at him as he makes his way towards the front door, a smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks, thankfully not visible in the dimly lit apartment. Suguru watches as Satoru pulls on his shoes. “Text me when you get home?” He says as Satoru stands back up. He raises his eyebrows in response, not knowing how to respond at first, the request surprising him.

“Yeah! Definitely. I will.” He says, sounding flustered, making Suguru smirk. Satoru turns around and opens the door, Suguru right behind him as the harsh light from the hallway pours into Shoko’s apartment.

“Goodnight, Satoru,” Suguru says as Satoru steps out into the hallway. Satoru’s back is to Suguru, so he can’t see the face that Satoru makes, hearing that in person. His blue eyes widen and his face gets hot, thinking about the first time he heard it over the phone. It sounded even better now in person.

“Goodnight Suguru.” He says, turning around to walk backwards towards the elevator with a smile. Satoru makes it down to the elevator and presses the button to go down to the lobby. Suguru hangs onto the doorframe as he hangs out into the hallway.

“Goodnight, Satoru.” Suguru repeats once more, watching Satoru as he waits for the elevator at the end of the hallway. This time, it’s softer, warmer almost.

“Goodnight, Suguru.” Satoru responds in a soft voice, the elevator doors opening in front of him.

“Goodnight, Satoru.” Suguru calls out one last time, barely loud enough for him to hear, earning a whisper in response from Satoru.

“Goodnight, Suguru.” Suguru can read on Satoru’s lips just before he disappears into the elevator. He lingers in the doorway until he hears the elevator doors come to a close. Unable to keep his beaming smile suppressed as he backs into Shoko’s apartment, he closes and locks the door in front of him. He quickly pulls out his phone and orders the uber that he said was already waiting downstairs, leaning his back up against the inside of the front door to take a deep breath before letting out an exasperated sigh, his heart beating hard in his chest. Suguru stays there for a moment longer, thinking about the night.

He makes his way back to sit down on Shoko’s couch, scrolling through his phone to try to distract himself when he hears a set of tiny footsteps walking out towards the living room from the direction of Shoko’s room. He looks up to see what the sound is and is greeted with a meow. “Hey Kai!” Suguru says, projecting a whisper. He pats the couch next to him and the siamese cat quickly joins him on the couch to see who’s in his home. “Did you miss me buddy? It hasn’t been too long since I saw you last.” He continues to whisper, now giving the cat scratches under his chin.

With a smile, Suguru continues petting Shoko’s cat as he crawls up into his lap. “You have such beautiful eyes, Kai… They remind me of someone I know...” He says, trailing off slightly. He turns his head to look towards the window, admiring the moon in the sky peaking through the various buildings that towered around. “I really gotta move somewhere with a better view.” He whispers to the cat, now purring in his lap from the scratches. Suguru can’t help but smile at the tiny creature in his lap that barely knows him, but already has so much love for him. “I think I gotta get a cat too, huh, Kai?” The cat doesn’t make a sound, too preoccupied with Suguru’s hands to even hear him. He smiles to himself at the thought.

Suguru sits quietly in the dim living room, petting Kai on the couch until he jumps off of his lap, heading back towards Shoko’s room. Standing up, Suguru decides that it’s probably a good idea for him to check up on Shoko. He quietly makes his way down the hallway, making sure not to make any noise. He peeks his head into her room, seeing a peacefully sleeping Shoko, shoes on the floor and green dress still on. He silently chuckles to himself at the sight before pulling the door most of the way closed, leaving it open just enough for Kai to get in and out.

Walking back out towards the living room, Suguru notices the pictures Shoko has hung on her wall. They’re made up mostly of family photos, pictures from vacations, pictures with friends, and Suguru notices a picture of a very young looking Shoko sitting on the bench of a picnic table. Next to her sits a skinny boy with snow white hair and wearing round black sunglasses. Suguru gets closer to the picture, not believing that it’s Satoru. When he gets close enough, it’s undeniable with those bright blue eyes and white hair that it’s him, not to mention the obnoxious look on his face. He can’t help but smile big at the sight of a high school aged Shoko and Satoru. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking over the rest of the pictures to see if he sees any other pictures of them from school. He doesn’t see any, but he does find one of him and Shoko when they were both less than two years old. He’d seen the picture a million times from his mom; it was impossible to miss. A tiny Suguru and an even tinier Shoko sitting inside of a large bin, squished together, the biggest smiles on their faces. He doesn’t remember it, but he smiles at the sight of the photo.

He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulls it out to see that it’s a text from Satoru. A smile appears on his face almost automatically upon seeing his name pop up on the screen. He slides it open and reads the text.

‘Made it home! Shiro thanks you and misses you! 😄’ He reads just before another text comes in. It’s a picture of Shiro looking up at the camera, Satoru’s purple socks with fish on them also in the picture.

‘Nice socks.’ Suguru sends back with a smile on his face as he sits back down on Shoko’s couch, spreading his legs as he leans back into the cushions. Immediately, the three little dots pop up and Suguru eagerly waits for an answer that comes quickly.

‘You should see what’s under them 😏’

Suguru lets out a small laugh at the joke. He holds down and uses the haha reaction before typing out his final response, his eyelids starting to feel slightly heavy, especially after not getting much sleep the night before.

‘Goodnight Satoru :)’ He sends back, a soft smile still resting on his face. Satoru almost immediately types back his response.

‘Goodnight Suguru :)’ He reads it, hearing Satoru’s voice perfectly in his mind. He locks his phone and holds it to his chest, almost overwhelmed with happiness.

As Suguru is about to let himself succumb to the sleepiness that he feels taking over his body he lets out one last “Goodnight Satoru,” purely for himself to hear. He lets his eyes fall shut, a smile still on his face as he drifts off to sleep.

chapter 7

#satosugu #stsg #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #office au #4littlefishies #the 36th floor

23 notes · View notes

adrianasunderworld · 1 year ago

Text

More Chronicles of Isabelle doing her thing

In the Ramshackle Guest Room

Leona: Ugh, what is that, Herbivore?

Isabelle: Sage. You burn it to get rid of negative energy.

Leona: Ugh. The smell is giving me a headache.

Isabelle: Yeah, I bet it does. *Waves it over him*

Leona: Well, fuck you too.

Isabelle: Hornton, I'm going to ask you a series of questions, and please tell me I'm over stepping with them.

Malleus: Very well then. What is it?

Isabelle: You told me you actually have a tail, right?

Malleus: Yes. I just keep it hidden with magic for convenience.

Isabelle: Ok. So. Does the scales on it shed?

Malleus: Now and then, yes.

Isabelle: Can I have some?

Malleus: Why???

Isabelle: I'm sorry, I need it for a charm I remember, that helps you sleep, and one of the things to make it is dragon scales, and you're the only dragon I know. I'm sorry if thats weird, just forget I ever-

Malleus: No no, you can have as many as you need, I don't mind. It's just no one has asked before.

Isabelle: Really?

Malleus: Yes. But you'll have to help me get them off.

Ace: Didn't Crowley say to stop doing weird shit in the woods?

Isabelle: Crowleys not the boss of me.

Deuce: He kinda is though.

Isabelle: Shut up. Besides, you two are here with me, and that makes you accomplices.

Ace: What are we even doing out here?

Isabelle: I want to feed Jerry.

Deuce: Isn't Jerry the shadow creature that followed you around? Why would you want to feed him after getting rid of him?

Isabelle: I feel bad ok? The woods are his natural habitat, but he still likes treats now and then. Also if I don't feed him, he's gonna scare Micheal again.

Deuce: Jack did say he was crying about a monster after he went to pick berries...

Ace: Alright, I got your text. And I see a circle of candles and supplies. That's never good. What is it now?

Isabelle: I am going to attempt to project into the spirit world.

Ace: Why?

Isabelle: To talk with my ancestors and see if they can send some messages home. Anyway, I need you to be on standby so no rouge spirits take my body.

Ace: Wow, you really trust me with that? Wait, Jack and Deuce were busy weren't they?

Isabelle: Yes. Now be vigilant.

Isabelle gently scraping off the loose scales from Malleus tail: Does it hurt?

Malleus, enjoying the feeling. Because this is basically dragon scritches: Not at all. ^_^

Isabelle: Then hold still, because you keep wagging it.

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst yuu #miss yuu #isabelle rosa #ace trappola #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #deuce spade

32 notes · View notes

iguessitsjustme · 1 year ago

Text

Deep Night Ep 2 Thoughts

Just finished watching episode 1 and I am READY for episode 2. I got my cake. My headache is gone. I’m feeling just as rambly as earlier so another cut for you guys:

Khem is a sleepy boy. It makes me sleepy.

Who wants to help me kill all street noise forever and ever so I can live a quiet and peaceful life but still live in the city? Any takers? No? That’s fair.

I still want to hug Pan. I cannot explain it. But it feels like my boy needs a hug.

Seriously WHO sings the opening? Do you know how hard it is to carry a song that relies to heavily on vocals like this? And the vibrato??? I’m losing it. Not only do they have the range but very obviously they have superb vocal control. Someone remind me to look this up later.

Khem is a little shit but he did grow on me. I knew he would.

Did he spray perfume on a comb? Actually I want that comb. It looks like a very good head scratching comb.

These two are doing desire very well. I bet they’ll kiss pretty. Well I already knew First does desire well cause of Y-Destiny. Which also you cannot convince me his episodes don’t become poly after. You can take the poly out of my cold dead hands.

Look at that. Still in love with Khem’s mom.

Pan gets immediately caught by Khem. Love it.

Bitch you gonna blackmail him to not having you escorted out by using the video you were told numerous times by multiple people to stop recording? I’m gonna steal your phone and oops look at that it fell in the toilet. I’m gonna go key her car too.

I love Pan. So much. Adore him. I want to put him in bubble wrap and protect him for the pain of the world. At all costs.

The soundtrack for this show isn’t gonna win any awards but it is very good at setting the tone.

Oooohhhh so me and Khem are the same. Into the drink. Get rid of the phone goodbye

Drunk Wela is so cute.

I was right. They kiss pretty.

Oh the hands went right down the pants. I do not know what to make of the music in this scene. Fascinating.

*eats chip* good thing Khem went and hid all of those pictures just for Wela to immediately find one.

Wrong conclusion my dude. But not a bad one. I am also Freya’s fan. And future spouse..

Pan is my baby. I love him.

I don’t know how to tell y’all this but I dress like Khem. My cardigans aren’t as nice though.

This scene in Wela’s mother’s restaurant is just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Please tell me that whole scene has many gifs.

Wela’s mom is precious. Love her.

If I get interrupted by a loud neighbor one more time I might just start crying. Thank god I don’t have a headache anymore can you imagine?

It concerns me how cute they are in episode 2. Like what is gonna happen? I fear.

Well now I think I gotta watch episode 3. As it turns out I have no self control.

#deep night #deep night the series #deep night series #rae liveblogs deep night #actually not as rambly as the first one #at least one more episode tonight i think

10 notes · View notes

bukojuiice · 4 years ago

Text

— genshin boys and how you take care of them when they’re sick.

ೃ ft. childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli, and xiao x gn! reader

ೃ tags: modern au, headcanons, and tooth-rotting fluff.

ೃ 200 to 300 words per character.

ೃ genshin masterlist ♡ mha masterlist ♡ aot masterlist

ೃ note: if you enjoyed this, please do reblog! and if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡

CHILDE:

Childe has a very strong immunity system. No lame flu could ever get him. Mayhaps it's the below 0-degree temperature in Snezhnaya that helped his body grow accustomed to certain climates and temperatures? Because according to him, he "takes colds and kicks ass." However, after having too much fun and getting too competitive with Scaramouche at the Dragonspine Ski Resort, he's struck down with a terrible fever. From Sneznaya's Greatest Love Machine to sick babie in (y/n)'s care. He's not necessarily the whiny type but Childe is very helpless. Whether it was intentional or not, he couldn’t help himself at all. He forgets about the cough drops he has to drink and you have to remind him about it, when he refuses to eat Goulash fresh from Dragonspine and demands for alphabet soup, or when you're doing work in the living room and he comes up to you wrapped in a burrito blanket, asking for cuddles because "hugs are the best medicine." to which, you would reply with a hard "no." because you couldn't risk the both of you getting sick. (Even though you were craving hugs from him too.) Due to your boyfriend's stubbornness, it took a week before he could fully recover. And when he did, you bet he rushes to you, screaming, "I'm cured!" peppering you with kisses on your cheek and enveloping you in hugs that you've longed so much from him.

DILUC:

Colds are Diluc's worst enemy. Whenever he got remotely sick when he was a kid, whether it be a runny nose or a small allergy, his immune system literally betrays him. So, when he gets sick, he literally gets sick. Since then, He vowed to maintain a healthy body. You've never even seen him get a headache! It's always been Diluc taking care of you whenever you’re down with a cold. You had always wished for a moment where the tables would turn and it would be you taking care of him for once. That would soon happen on a particularly normal day. Diluc approaches you and asks if you could check his temperature. You bring out a thermometer to check if he has a fever, and it read 38 degrees. Diluc suddenly panics. His face red as a tomato and feeling woozy and lightheaded, your boyfriend wraps his arm around you for support as you bring him to your bedroom. Then, he suddenly sneezes. An adorable sniffle you did not expect to hear from your boyfriend or from anyone as handsome as him at all. It was the cutest "achoo." you've ever heard. You giggle, reaching for his neatly folded pajamas in the closet and handing it to him. "Pretend you didn't hear that." He says coldly, trying to not act embarrassed. Since that night and until he became well, you barely left Diluc’s side. He's wrapped in a blanket, his usual well-dressed get up is replaced with a dark gray hoodie and joggers, your stuffed plushies are cuddled up beside Diluc to keep him company whilst he's bed-ridden, and you're bringing him healthy and delicious meals to help him get better soon. When he had finally recovered, Diluc thought that maybe getting sick wasn't all that bad. Especially if the the one most dearest to him could love and care for him so well while he’s at his weakest.

KAEYA:

Kaeya tries to hide his cold at first. He doesn't want to make you worry too much. After all, he's not the type to get so sick easily anyway. T'was the cursed downpour of rain on that particular Wednesday night after his evening classes to blame for all of this. When you're around him, he clears his throat every time he has the urge to cough, He tries to sneeze as quietly as possible so you wouldn't hear, and he takes his daily medicine for colds behind your back. It wasn't til you accidentally hear his loud coughs whilst he was on his phone when you realized that he had a cold for the past few days now. You were a bit sad at first because Kaeya shouldn't have hid this from you, and yet, you quickly understood when he told you why. Since then, you've been taking care of him. He would lie on your lap as you apply a fever patch on his forehead, massaging his temples, as he coos adoringly at your gestures of affection. In fact, he loved the special treatment that he was getting from you so much, that even if he was getting better, he still asked if you could rub his temples to ease the pain he's been feeling from his common colds. Although it is very clear that he's already free of his illness, you chose to play along with him. and so from then on, giving Kaeya a loving massage became a part of your daily routine, and he was loving every minute of it.

ZHONGLI:

As a herb and tea enthusiast, Zhongli is able to keep a healthy mind and body. Chamomile tea before the two of you go to bed and a scented humidifier wafting around your house to rid of the germs. However, after eating something he had ordered for the both of you on Postmates and not knowing there was seafood in it, his mild allergies suddenly strike him with a severe cold. Zhongli hates this feeling. He hates not being able to get up, water the plants, read his books, or stroll around the city with you. He had no physical energy to do anything. He kept your house as clean and as influenza-free as possible. Yet here was, on your shared bed, speaking in a nasally but cute voice, a glass of orange juice on the bedside table, and tuned in to the Discovery Channel because it was the closest he could get to the wonderful world around him whilst he was sick. "I miss hearing your soothing voice." You say jokingly, drying a hot towel so you can pat and place it on Zhongli's forehead. "I'm afraid I can't do anything right now, my love. I'm sorry. A-Actually... my body feels hot. I think I need to take a shower." Wearing a bathrobe or else he'd shiver and have his condition worsen, you help your boyfriend take a hot bath by washing his hair and help dry it right after. Zhongli wasn't the type of boyfriend to ask for these kinds of things, but it was such a sweet gesture. You gingerly wash his hair, spread shampoo around his auburn streaks and small upward curls, and massaging his head in the process. He hums in delight whilst you giggle at his utters of praise, leaving him once you're done with your deed. After a relaxing bath that had probably defeated the colds that was plaguing him, Zhongli is back on his feet the next day. Unfortunately, you were the next victim of this stupid flu and now, it was Zhongli's turn to take care of you and making sure you would get the love and treatment that you had given him.

XIAO:

Calling your boyfriend stubborn when he's sick is quite an understatement. As a very productive person, Xiao always sets a certain amount of things to do as his goal for the day. Going to the skate park, hanging out with you, playing sports, or playing video games were just many of the activities he would do in a span of a day. But, when he catches a cold after staying up too late (sleep is for the weak! According to the Vigilant Yaksha as the mad lad had stayed up till 7 AM) after getting too invested in playing Resident Evil Village, he comes down with a flu that same afternoon. And so, his usual routine of going to the skate park, hanging out with you, and playing video games were soon to be replaced with lounging in the bed, taking medicine, being reprimanded by (Y/N) for moving too much, and feeling like shit because he can't do anything at all. You will literally shoot daggers when you see your boyfriend dashing around because he's supposed to be in bed, getting all the rest he can get. You were very strict with him, simply because you had to. Xiao was very careless after all. You were cooking dinner that same night when Xiao comes up to you, resting his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering, "I can go to school with you tomorrow." "Xiao... no you won't. Go to back to bed. I'll bring you the Veggie Radish Soup there." You reply harshly, paying no attention to him at all. His tsundere tendencies were showing when you deliver the soup to him and he grumbles, "Y-you don't have to take care of me like this. It was my fault as to why I got sick in the first place. I can take care of myself, you know." You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing yet loving look. "I know that. But, I'm doing this because I love you. You're my freaking boyfriend for petesake! Why would I not care for you like this!?"

ೃ taglist: @mignonextte @inlovewithadeptusxiao @duhsies @qimiie @kozu-zumi @volleybloop

1K notes · View notes

ncssian · 4 years ago

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Two

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

content warnings: secondhand embarrassment, i dont know how skiing works, poor editing, NSFW 🔥

***

To Nesta’s horror, Cassian was serious when he said he’d teach her how to ski. Nevermind the fact that it’s his birthday, and they should be having a lazy morning together filled with cuddles and breakfast in bed. Instead, they’ve been up since six in the morning without food or drink, just to shuffle around in the snow while Cassian repeats the same instructions over and over. By late morning, the rest of their group has gotten up and joined them at the beginner’s trail to be firsthand witnesses to Nesta’s humiliation.

She stares down at the blinding white slope before her and inhales a breath of frigid mountain air, trying to steel her nerves before she has to push off the ground and take flight.

Cassian sees her hesitation and sighs. “Come on, Nesta,” he urges. “It’s thirty feet to the bottom of the hill.”

“Why is it so steep?” she demands, even though she knows this is a practice hill. Toddlers in skis are shuffling around them, hand in hand with their parents.

“You’re not falling to the bottom,” Cassian says, growing impatient. “You’re gliding.”

He’s already shown her how to maneuver with skis a dozen times already, and Nesta can see that he doesn’t have another dozen times left in him. Unfortunately for him, Nesta’s own patience was used up hours ago. Her stomach pangs with hunger, and she has a pounding headache from the cold and lack of sleep.

“Oh, come on, Nesta,” Gwyn calls from behind her. She hops up and down in her snow boots like a cheerleader. “You can do it!”

Nesta does not want to do it. She looks down at the hill, then back at Cassian with pleading eyes—eyes that he can’t see under her ski goggles anyway.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Azriel mutters from somewhere. He picks up his ski poles and points to Emerie. “Ski lift?”

“Sure—” she starts to say, and then remembers that she’s here to support Nesta. “Not now,” she amends.

“Just go,” Cassian turns to tell them. “At least some of us will be having fun.” Nesta watches as he goes over to Emerie and Az to give advice on the trails, the same frustration from last night building in her chest.

Stupid ski trip. Stupid uninvited guests. Stupid birthday that Cassian isn’t even treating like a birthday.

Gritting her teeth, Nesta jabs her ski poles into the ground. She’ll conquer this hill, and then she’ll conquer the rest of the trail, and then she’ll take her skis and set them on fire.

With everyone briefly preoccupied and no eyes on her, Nesta pushes herself downhill. Her skis slip a little as she takes off but she readjusts her feet the way Cassian showed her, regaining control. She takes a deep breath, realizing the height isn’t as scary as she thought it would be. Testingly, she bends her knees and pushes herself farther, gaining speed.

“Oh, oh, look!” she hears Gwyn say from behind her. “She’s doing it!”

The voice breaks Nesta out of her precarious concentration, and she almost misses the kid right in front of her skiing at the pace of a turtle. Gasping, Nesta swerves at the last second to avoid running him over.

Her skis clack into each other and she feels her ankle twist, and then she’s down. Hard. Her face meets snow and her ski gear jabs into her body as she tumbles down the rest of the hill, until she finally meets flat ground and rolls to a painful stop.

Nesta only hears a dull roar in her ears as she slowly pushes herself upright. Ignoring alarmed looks from stray skiers around her, she reaches forward and unstraps one ski from her foot, then the other. Her goggles fall to the ground next. Once free, she stands up and walks away, ignoring the calls of her friends from the hilltop.

She walks until she loses sight of the trail and then the resort, until the flattened and trampled snow piles up into powdery mounds untouched by human presence. A cropping of towering evergreens appears before her, and she heads straight for the thicket without pausing.

Once safely entombed by the dark tree trunks and frosted branches, Nesta releases a breath and screams. Screams until the frustration and anger within her bluntens just a little.

The forest absorbs her fire and answers with silence.

“Better now?” Cassian’s voice comes from behind her.

Nesta whirls, ready to fling her next scream at him for having the nerve to follow her, but she only restrains herself because it’s his birthday. Guilt and humiliation nips at her; she shouldn’t be doing this on his birthday. “Leave me alone.” Her voice is raw from shrieking.

Cassian only takes a step closer to Nesta, eyeing her up and down. “You’re not hurt, right? ’Cause that would be embarrassing for you.”

Any edge that was taken off starts to build up again, and Nesta really doesn’t want to look at him right now. “Cassian—”

“Your face is turning red,” he suddenly gasps, pointing. “You should try yelling again, babe. I don’t think the entire resort heard you last time.”

Done with her boyfriend’s shit, Nesta releases a growl and rushes at him. He’s a lot closer than she realized, and in a blink she slams right into his broad chest and shoves him with all her might.

Cassian laughs, short and blunt, and pushes her right back. Her back hits hard-packed snow and then he’s on top of her, pinning her wrists loosely beside her head. Icy wetness seeps past the neck of her jacket.

“Do you want me to fucking bite you?” Nesta snarls, getting in Cassian’s face.

“Always,” he says without hesitation, pressing closer to her. “But first you gotta take a breather.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she seethes back. At this rate, she really might bite him. She wants to see his smug face drop when he realizes he pushed her too far.

“You might have an aneurysm at this rate with your anger issues.” He pouts prettily. “Imagine how sad that would make me.”

“I DON’T HAVE ANGER ISSUES!” she shrieks.

Cassian barely blinks. Nesta breathes heavily in the ensuing silence, realizing how embarrassing this is for her. Yet she doesn’t know how to stop.

Closing her eyes, she drops her head to the ground and turns away. Wishing she could sink into the ground and vanish for a few minutes, at least until she gets herself under control again.

After a moment of quiet, she feels the back of Cassian’s fingers brush her neck. “I wondered where that spitfire girl went,” he says lowly. “She didn’t die. You just hid her very well.”

Nesta’s body doesn’t know whether to feel soothed or incited by the touch, the words. “Does it make you happy?” she breathes, her eyes still closed. “That she’s still there?”

“It would be murder if you ever got rid of her. Don’t you dare,” he threatens.

Nesta huffs a derisive laugh. It’s easy for him to say, when he isn’t the one that has to live with it. “I bet you’re enjoying this.”

“Only if you are.” He sounds completely genuine, and Nesta feels him pluck something out of her hair—likely a snowflake.

Realizing Cassian has long since released her wrists, she opens her eyes and stares at the column of his neck. She doesn’t see the regret and concern on his face when he says, “I ruined today, didn’t I?” She watches him swallow before he adds, “I’m sorry, Nes.”

“It’s your birthday,” she mutters, looking away. “You can do whatever you want.” Even if it’s spending the whole day skiing.

“You’re right about that.” His warm breath hits her nose, and now that Nesta’s head is somewhat clear, she can feel every place where his body settles into hers.

Before she can betray herself and forget how upset she was at him only a few minutes ago, Cassian pushes up and off of her. Frigid air replaces where he was just sprawled, and then he’s holding out a hand to Nesta. “We’re going back to our room,” he says, watching Nesta’s feet closely as he helps her stand. “You can ride on my back.”

“Why?” Nesta grumbles, brushing herself off. “I can walk fine.”

“You twisted your right ankle on the way down that hill, and you started limping as soon as you thought you were out of sight.” Cassian turns around and points at his back. “Get on while I’m being nice.”

That makes Nesta scoff, because he’s always nice, but she has little fight left today. She tries to reach up to wrap her arms around his neck, but Cassian grabs her legs and hitches her up onto his back before she can struggle.

She responds with a scowl, clasping her hands across his chest and getting comfortable. “You noticed I was hurt but didn’t have a problem with tackling me to the ground?”

Cassian squeezes her thighs and holds her closer, tossing a blinding smile over his shoulder. “Sorry if I wasn’t expecting you to try to jump me with an injured foot. You took me by surprise.”

“Bullshit,” Nesta says as they start walking out of the trees. “You did it on purpose.”

“Do you like starting fights, Archeron?”

“Do you?” she retorts.

They bicker back and forth like that until they reach the resort, and even once they’re inside the lobby, Cassian doesn’t put Nesta down. The exhaustion of the day has settled over the both of them by then, and the elevator ride up to the penthouse is peacefully quiet.

Back at the empty suite, Cassian carefully lowers Nesta to her feet. “Take your clothes off,” is all he says before heading for the bathroom, shedding his heavy outer jacket as he goes. Nesta has no problem listening; she’s all too happy to take her snow-drenched gear off and breathe air-conditioned air again.

She only realizes as she’s removing her boots that her overwrought emotions must have dulled the real pain of her fall. Her entire body aches down to the bone, and her twisted ankle has it the worst. Inspecting the swollen skin around her foot, she wonders if Cassian will make her see a doctor when the sound of a running faucet pulls her attention. Still dressed in her thermal underwear, Nesta pads over to the bathroom.

Inside, the room is dim, and the only light comes in from the single window panel at the far end of the room. Cassian sits on the rim of the clawfoot tub as it fills with heated water, already naked.

Nesta coughs, caught off guard. The sight is far from unfamiliar to her, and yet she hates to admit that she’ll never not react to it.

Cassian looks up at her, meeting her eyes head on, and a giggle almost escapes her.

“What’s that dumb look on your face?” he says with high brows. “Take your clothes off and get in.”

Nesta firmly schools her face into obedience. Is she a grown woman or a schoolgirl? she chides herself as she strips naked. But as soon as she’s free of her top and leggings, Cassian stops her. “Turn around,” he says.

Is this a sex thing? She hopes it’s a sex thing. She does as she’s told, and hears Cassian hiss in a breath. Glancing at the mirror over the sink, Nesta winces when she realizes what he sees. “Damn.” Her back is peppered with still-forming bruises from her fall, along with her legs and ribs.

Getting up, Cassian approaches her and cautiously runs his fingers over a reddened spot on her ribs. “I think a ski pole stabbed me there,” Nesta says, frowning down at the bruise. She looks like shit, and not at all in a desirable way.

“How’s your ankle?” Cassian kneels to check for himself, handling her like a porcelain doll. He presses gently above the bone where she twisted it. “Does that hurt?”

Nesta considers saying yes, just so he can keep fussing over her like this, but she shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just a little achy.”

A sudden chaste kiss between her legs makes her yelp, and she twists to find Cassian still on his knees, grinning sheepishly up at her. “You know what can help with those aches?”

Nesta blanks as Cassian runs a calloused hand up her inner leg. “Uh…really good dick?”

Cassian is visibly trying not to smile when he says, “A bath.” He stands and turns the faucet off, before going to help Nesta into the tub.

Steaming hot water just beneath the point of being uncomfortable hits Nesta’s calves, then her hips and chest. She might moan in relief as she sinks into the bath.

Cassian settles in across from her, taking up most of the tub space as Nesta twists her ponytail into a bun. He takes her ankle onto his lap and starts massaging above the injury. He notes, “We haven’t been alone like this in ages.”

“I remember when it was my job to be the chill guy,” he continues, rubbing circles into her leg. “I was the one doing stupid shit, and now I have to tell other people to knock it off when they do stupid shit. Since when did Azriel take my role?” he mutters to himself.

Nesta tilts her head against the lip of the tub and watches Cassian, taking in the barely visible lines of weariness on his face. She was once in a similar boat, too, where she had no one to answer to but herself. “Do you miss it?” she asks hesitantly. “Life before we got to know each other?” A life spent in the company of his friends, meeting different women every other week and being as free as possible.

“No,” he says easily. “I miss life before we had to share each other with other people.” He meets her eyes and smirks. “Who knew monogamy could be so exciting?”

Nesta’s stomach curls at his honesty, and she doesn’t know what to say. In the silence, Cassian reaches for a washcloth and lathers it with a bar of pine scented soap. But before he can reach for Nesta, she snatches the washcloth from him and pulls herself forward into the cradle of his limbs. What she can’t say, she’ll just have to show.

She starts soaping up his arms, granting extra attention to his tattooed biceps.

“You’re hurt—” he tries to protest.

“Shut up.” She runs the washcloth over his shoulders, across his collarbones.

When Nesta reaches his chest, she starts, “Earlier in the woods...I lost control.”

Cassian looks wary, but she goes on, “I don’t know why I did that. I thought I didn’t do that anymore.”

“I know why,” he says simply. “You were having a bad day. It was overwhelming.” He shrugs.

“But I’m better than that,” she insists. “You might think it's cute or funny when I—lose it, but I spent years training myself not to fall apart at the slightest inconvenience.” She takes in a breath, her movements slowing. “I learned how to escape reality, remember? I climbed into books and TV and songs, and at one point my entire life passed me by because I refused to participate in it. If I didn't participate, I couldn't be hurt.” She wrings out the washcloth, and Cassian carefully pries it out of her grip.

Nesta places her empty hands on her thighs, avoiding his touch, his eyes. “I think you were one of the only people who ever made me want to come back to real life,” she offers awkwardly. “That's why you made me uncomfortable at first. There were times I would look at you and think, He's better than anyone from the books. If I start living on the same plane as him, I can have him. Does that make sense?”

Cassian swallows visibly, but nods.

“It seemed like an impossible thing to do at the time—participate in the real world, make real friends. But have you noticed? I don’t read as many romance novels anymore.” Not because she doesn’t love them, but because she no longer needs them to remind herself she's alive.

She looks up at him, searching for his thoughts and opinions. Cassian looks like he's doing the same with her face, but then he says, “If you need to scream, even if it’s at me, tell me. I’ll take you somewhere far away, or I’ll let you have it out right in front of everyone. Whatever the hell you want, as long as you tell me. Please.”

Nesta starts to shake her head, adamant, but he stops her with the most pitiful look he's ever given her. “There’s nothing I hate seeing more than you trying to swallow down your rough edges. Even in the woods, you were about to tame yourself before I provoked you.” Cassian holds out a pinky, completely serious. “Consider it my birthday gift. Don’t do that shit anymore.”

Nesta stares at him, his plea warring with years of conditioned self-restraint. “I already got you a birthday gift,” she finally grumbles, but hooks his pinky with hers.

He seems satisfied, but doesn't let go of her pinky. With surprising strength, he uses their hooked fingers to pull Nesta into him, and she just barely catches herself on his chest before he brings her head down and kisses her deep.

Nesta already has her legs adjusted around his waist and his cock pressed against her stomach before she can pull away far enough to choke, “What’s this for?”

He leans up and catches her lips with his again, dipping his tongue just far enough inside to flick the roof of her mouth before retreating. “For existing. And for those aches.” He presses down lightly on a bruise at her back and runs a soothing thumb over it right after. Between her thighs, she feels him growing hard.

Nesta huffs a distracted laugh, the steam from the water sending a red flush up her chest and neck. It's suddenly very hot, and she unconsciously squirms in his lap. “I just realized I’ve never had sex in the bath before,” she says out of nowhere, rubbing her chest and quickly dropping her arms. She’s babbling, she knows. Contrary to popular media, being a seductress is harder than it looks. Half the time she has no idea what to say, and she considers herself lucky that Cassian is driven wild by it anyway.

Cassian entertains her, nodding along while his fingers slip past her ass, brushing her folds. “That sounds like something that should be amended, don’t you think?”

“Well, in terms of comfort I’m not sure if it’ll be better than the shower—” She’s cut off by a finger teasing at her entrance, making her jerk. “Yes,” she says quickly. “Yes, it should be amended.”

He hums thoughtfully, leaning in to nibble and suck at her neck. Her hardened nipples brush against his chest, and Nesta pushes closer into Cassian’s embrace. She’s half-rocking against him when she rasps, “How do you give head in the bath? Do I, like, have to hold my breath underwater?”

“You don’t need to know how,” he mutters, grasping her by the hips and tugging her up so that he’s eye level with her chest. He starts leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses across her breasts. “You’re not doing anything I don’t tell you to do today.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta’s grip on Cassian’s shoulders tightens when he brings a pink nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and pulling off with a flick of his tongue. She can’t move her hips for fear of climaxing at the slightest touch. “It’s your birthday,” she manages to get out. “And I like seeing what I can do to you.”

“Then save it for your birthday.” He pulls her back down firmly into his lap, making her thighs clench with restraint. “Because I like seeing what I do to you more.”

To prove his point, he parts her legs and slips one finger inside her. The smug pride on his face at what he finds makes Nesta move to grip the rim of the tub. Having a pretty boyfriend might have been a mistake, she thinks. That kind of face will get away with anything. Right now, for example.

“Tell me what you want, then,” she pleads.

Cassian leans back, pretending to think. “Sit on my cock,” he finally says.

An easy enough order, one Nesta is all too excited to carry out in only a few movements. It takes a minute to adjust to the fullness and the stretch, and the water doesn’t help in dousing the fire in her veins at all. With heat pounding deep in her core, Nesta releases a terse breath. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and Cassian watches.

“Now don’t move,” he orders.

“What?” Nesta’s knees involuntarily clench around his hips, her body already craving the feel of moving against him, on top of him.

He levels her with a look. “No clenching, no rocking, no touching.” He hisses in a thoughtful breath, combing a wet hand through his hair. “Actually, that isn’t very fair, is it?”

Nesta is about to nod furiously when he says, “You still need to wash yourself.” He hands her the washcloth she used on him earlier and leans his elbow on the rim of the tub. “Be quick about it. No games.”

Nesta’s eyes widen, looking at the washcloth, then back up at Cassian. Excitement tingles in her fingers and toes, and she doesn’t want to argue with him.

Gulping tightly, she soaps up the washcloth, then smooths the lather over her arms. It’s hard to focus on what she’s doing when there’s a pounding pressure between her legs, and the only thing that keeps her going is that she’ll be rewarded when she’s done. Cassian doesn’t bother watching her, instead tipping his head back against the tub and closing his eyes. From this angle, the tendons in his neck stand out clearly, and the hard line of his jaw looks tense. Nothing on his calm face reveals that Nesta is the reason for his tension, though.

Bringing the soapy cloth over her breasts, Nesta looks up to see if Cassian is secretly peeking at her through his lashes. His eyes remain shut, the perfect portrait of a man at rest.

Suddenly, his hips shift beneath hers, and Nesta nearly drops the washcloth. Straightening up, she has to use herculean strength to force her inner walls to relax around him. “You moved,” she accuses him.

“I was getting comfortable,” he says, still not opening his eyes.

“Why can you move but I can’t?”

That gets him to look at her. His eyes are hooded and lazy when he says, “You’re still talking?”

“Maybe if you had clearly explained the rules—” Nesta starts to grumble, but shuts up when he quirks a brow at her. She won’t lose this game, not for anything—even if she’s split at the seams with Cassian inside her and is one thread away from completely snapping.

Now fully alert, Cassian watches Nesta finish washing up. He hasn’t touched her once since he pulled her onto his cock, and now Nesta tries to make up for the aching lack by pretending her roaming hands are his.

It’s not until the washcloth reaches her tummy that Nesta pauses, her hand frozen over her lower abdomen. Because there, even past the cloth, she can feel him. The skin just slightly bulges, and she looks down at herself with her lips slightly fallen apart. She didn’t realize he was nestled so deep in her, but now she swallows past a lump in her throat. “Cassian…” she starts weakly. Every last muscle is trembling with the effort to stay still. Can he really be unaffected by all of this? Is she really the only one dying right now?

Without intending to, her hand drops the cloth, slipping toward her clit. She can only brush the sensitive nub before Cassian says quietly, “Don’t.”

So this is against the rules, too. She can’t even bring herself to look at him, she’s strung so tight. Taking a shallow breath, she grabs the pitcher from the shelf by the tub and fills it with water, using it to rinse off the suds. When she’s done, with water droplets running down every inch of her, she dares to look at Cassian again. Her anxiousness to get this over with must be written all over her face, and yet.

“Good,” Cassian says, voice just a little grated.

Nesta’s heart rate picks up a beat. She’s finally getting her reward.

“Now sit still and pretty while I rest,” he says, sinking even lower into the tub—and causing his cock to dig even deeper into Nesta. “This is a bath, not a splash pad.”

Nesta chokes. “What—I thought—”

“Hm?”

She presses her lips together tightly, refusing to protest. He can’t make her warm his cock like this forever, can he? Soon enough he’ll crack.

Four minutes in, and he doesn’t crack. While Nesta gets closer to crying by the second, she has yet to find evidence that he’s even aware of her presence. Her only proof is the fact that he’s still rock hard, occasionally twitching against the depths of her walls.

At five minutes in, Nesta can’t help it. She breaks, and her inner muscles clamp around Cassian with a viselike grip. She half-sobs in pain and relief, and her hips jerk of their own accord.

Cassian’s eyes fly open at that, the pupils blown wide, and Nesta has to catch herself on his chest to keep from crumbling. If she had half a working brain left, she would have noticed the trembling restraint that lines Cassian’s limbs, or the way his eyes burn with welling desire and even sympathy. Instead, she turns her face into his chest and begs weakly, “Pleasepleaseplease.” Her thighs keep shifting, rubbing back and forth to create friction, but she can’t give herself permission to move the way she truly needs until Cassian gives her permission.

Nesta feels Cassian’s broad hand come up to carefully brush her back. She nearly weeps with relief at the touch, but he doesn’t go any further. “What do you want, baby?” he says roughly.

“You,” she forces out. She doesn’t care if this is losing.

“Me, what?” He sounds like he’s about to lose, too.

“I want you to fuck me.” She’s nearly whimpering, trying not to squirm on his lap.

Cassian, the horrible bastard, has the nerve to snicker in her ear, though he sounds more than a little wrecked when he says, “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

In a flash, he has Nesta pinned against the porcelain tub. And before she can decide whether to laugh or moan or cry at the turn of events, Cassian covers her mouth with his and thrusts into her, giving her everything she wants.

***

Hours later, after they’ve sated themselves on sex and food and Cassian is napping sprawled out across Nesta’s back, she receives a text from Azriel telling her he won’t be there to celebrate the rest of Cassian’s birthday.

Az: You two deserve the alone time. Also I didn’t get him a present.

Another text pops up before Nesta can reply.

Az: I did order a cake to be sent up to your room, though. Don’t worry, there’s not a picture of your boobs on it.

Nesta’s eyes widen at that, not knowing why—or how—that would be an option. But she completely forgot about getting cake in all the unexpected hassle of their vacation, and not for the first time is she grateful that Azriel came along with them on their trip.

Typing back a quick thank you, Nesta clicks her phone off and curls further into Cassian’s warmth. He shifts on top of her, hugging her closer, and a moment later she feels his nose poking at the crook of her neck. “Good morning,” he murmurs thickly, sleep coating his voice.

“It’s six p.m,” she snickers. The sun slipped behind the mountains just a few minutes ago, leaving the room a blue dark.

Cassian responds by slipping his hands under her oversized tee, rubbing the muscles along her back. “Where’s everyone else?” They haven’t seen Gwyn, Emerie, or Az in hours.

Nesta turns around in Cassian’s arms to face him. “Consider them gone. We’re by ourselves for the rest of the night.”

He perks up at that. “Really?”

A knock sounds from the penthouse door, and Nesta remembers Azriel’s text. She squirms out from under Cassian’s weight with some difficulty and stands off the bed. She points a stern finger at him. “Don’t move from here,” she orders. “I’ll be back.”

Cassian leans back, looking questioning and amused, but Nesta has already jammed her feet into slippers and left the room by then.

She accepts the covered platter from room service at the door and leaves a tip, before carrying the cake over to the coffee table in the living area and setting it down. Within ten minutes, she has an entire setup arranged: the fireplace is up and roaring, the fur throw she stole from Cassian’s couch to bring on vacation is spread out before it, and the cake candles are lit. The Italian dinner that she ordered earlier also arrives by then, and once everything is laid out, she calls for Cassian to come downstairs.

He’s fully dressed in a sweater and jeans when he appears at the top of the short set of stairs, and he looks so excited to see her that he doesn’t notice the cake or the dinner until he’s only a few steps away from her. Very slowly, his smile freezes. “What’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday,” Nesta says. “Duh.”

“But I thought we already celebrated,” he stumbles, looking around. “With the skiing, and the bathtub—”

Nesta makes a face. “You thought that was celebrating?” She shakes her head and beckons Cassian over to the fur throw, right before the table decked out with food.

He sits down beside Nesta, looking over her in nothing but her thin white shirt. “Are you cold? Do you want my sweater?”

She rolls her eyes as far back as they can go. “No, I want you to focus and make a wish before 6:27.”

“How do you know my birth time?”

“Will you do it or not?” she threatens. The candle wax is melting onto the cake.

Cassian stares at her for a moment longer before finally facing the cake. Closing his eyes, he mouths something unintelligible and blows the candles out.

Nesta claps softly. “Happy two years away from thirty. What did you wish for?” She leans closer.

He leans away. “It doesn’t come true if you go around announcing it.”

Nesta’s shoulders drop. “Wishes aren’t real, Cassian.”

“That’s what you say.” He swipes a dollop of chocolate frosting off the cake with his finger and holds it out to Nesta.

Smiling, she wraps her lips around his finger, scraping the chocolate off with her teeth and licking it clean. He sucks on the same finger when she’s done, chasing after her taste and the lingering frosting. “What do you want first?” he asks. “Dinner or dessert?”

“This.” Nesta pulls out a small box from under the table, placing it in front of Cassian. She didn’t have time to find wrapping paper or a bag, but she’s a bit proud of herself anyway.

Cassian once again looks taken by surprise. “You didn’t have to…” He trails off as he reaches for the box. It’s already obvious what it is, but he still opens it carefully, hesitantly.

He stares at the silver watch for a little while and then looks back up at Nesta. “I…” He clears his throat.

“What do you think?” In all honesty, Nesta already knows. But she needs to hear it from him.

He meets her eyes. “It’s so…normal. Do you know what I mean?”

It’s the type of gift that Nesta’s mother would have given to her father, the type of gift that wives would give to their husbands. Not necessarily original or thoughtful, but domestic.

“Since you like to spend your time thinking about taxes and minivans and stuff,” Nesta says, remembering their last conversation about the future, “I thought you’d like something normal.”

Cassian laughs at that. He takes the watch out of the box and turns it over in the firelight, still a little dumbstruck. “I love it,” he says roughly.

Nesta kicks him in the knee. “It’s a watch, not an engagement ring.”

But he doesn’t hear a word, already clasping it onto his wrist.

***

Their last day at the resort starts early with Gwyn, Emerie, and Az banging on the suite door at five in the morning. Though Cassian is already up by then, Nesta snarls and snaps like a bitch at being dragged out of bed to watch the sunrise.

With everyone’s bags packed and waiting at the door, they all gather on the balcony connected to the suite in content silence. Azriel nurses a thermos of coffee that he refuses to share with Cassian, and Nesta is wrapped up in that fur throw she loves, half-asleep against Emerie.

When the sky starts lightening, Cassian pulls Nesta away from Emerie and into his body. “You’re gonna miss it,” he murmurs onto the top of her head.

She blinks awake, looking out at the sky slowly being streaked with a dozen colors. From here, the view over the mountains and the quiet town some miles beneath the resort is breathtaking. Easily better than any sunrise Cassian could have shared with Nesta back home.

It’s beautiful, and in that moment he decides he wants to see even more beautiful places than this with Nesta. Someday.

“Pretty,” she yawns, tilting her head back against his chest. Cassian feels guilty for keeping her up so late the night before, but he’s not ashamed of how she rests in his arms right now.

After the sun climbs past the lowest peak, the group of them slowly but surely come more alive. Emerie asks Az to go inside with her and do a final check before they leave, and Nesta shakes both the blanket and Cassian’s arms off herself.

“Some coffee will wake you up,” he promises her, leaving her outside in the dewy morning air with a kiss on the temple.

When Cassian returns to the balcony with two freshly brewed cups, he finds Gwyn and Nesta in deep conversation. “I never apologized for crashing your weekend,” Gwyn is saying.

“You don’t need to,” Nesta responds, watching the world wake up below her.

“Still,” Gwyn says, chewing on the inside of her cheek. ��I acted out of character, didn’t I?”

Nesta turns to her then, the sun haloing her face, and the look of understanding she wears makes Cassian take a step back inside.

“He does that to me,” Gwyn goes on, looking lost as ever. “I don’t know why he does that to me.”

“First love will do that to anyone,” Nesta says.

This isn’t a conversation Cassian should be overhearing, he realizes. Turning around with his coffees, he goes to find Emerie and Azriel instead.

In the living area, Emerie realizes at the last minute that she’s missing her phone charger. By the time she finds it, Nesta and Gwyn have rejoined the group.

Cassian hands Nesta her still-warm coffee with a warmer smile. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Hell yes, baby.” She slings an arm around his waist.

They barely make it to the resort lobby before Azriel and Gwyn start arguing over which route to take home.

“Why would you add an extra hour to your trip for no reason?” Azriel is saying.

“It’s none of your business!” Gwyn retorts.

“She’s scared of highways,” Emerie inserts.

While they bicker on the way to check out, Cassian finds Nesta’s hand and runs a finger down her palm. “Hey, Nes?”

“Hm?” She looks up at him.

He curls his fingers around hers. “Thank you for doing this.”

***

a/n: i cant keep posting chapters right before i sit down to cry in front of kdramas

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fanfic #nessian au

213 notes · View notes

nothing-but-haikyuu · 4 years ago

Text

Piano Player

Reader: F Character: Tetsurō Kuroo Rating: E Summary: You met him at the jazz club, you had been stood up for a date and found yourself sitting by the piano in the corner of the club. In dim light you shined in his eyes, not from the shiny material of your dress or the dangling jewellery from your wrist and ears. Warning: Smut, Jazz AU, Unprotected Sex, Gentle Sex, Tipsy Sex Ask Box: Open | Check Out ThreadytoGoDesign | Join me on Patreon

You met him at the jazz club, you had been stood up for a date and found yourself sitting by the piano in the corner of the club. In dim light you shined in his eyes, not from the shiny material of your dress or the dangling jewellery from your wrist and ears.

He often noticed you out of the corner of you eye, and his heart sank when you got up. But then settled when you returned with another drink. You looked so sad, he wish he could play something besides moody jazz.

Your eyes met as he finished his second last song of the night. He leaned over a little and looked at your with dark eyes, “I get off after this next song. How about we get some water into you.”

“I’d love that.” You smiled, “Rooster Head.”

“It’s Kuroo Tetsurõ.” He chuckled, “I advise you lay off the gin and tonic, I don’t want me friends at the bar to get the wrong idea. I like to treat women right.”

You put the half filled glass down and exhaled, “Alright, so impress me, Mr. Piano Man.” And smirked. Your head felt fuzzy, but you weren’t tipsy enough to not be able to walk in a straight line.

He smiled and started to play. It came naturally to him, his fingers glided across the keys. Long fingers that were perfect for piano playing. You tucked hair behind your ear, you found it in a way attractive how focus he became. He really was trying to impress you.

And this all happened because a big wig in a suit thought he could stand you up. You reached out and touched his thigh gently, but his concentration didn’t break. He continued to play until the song was finished.

Then when he hit the last note, he looked at you and said, “Was that enough to impress you, ma’am?” And gave the most self assured smirk you had ever seen.

You gripped his thigh and said, “And this is how you get all the girls, huh?”

He leaned in, “Most of the time, sometimes their boyfriends come and try and fight me.” He cupped your cheek, “But I don’t see a man with you tonight.”

“I got stood up.”

“Shame.” He said as he let go of you and got up, “Let’s go get you some water, I’d hate to see such a beautiful woman wake up with a hangover. You’re too pretty for a headache like that.” Then helped you up and held your hand as he walked you to the bar.

Kuroo got some whiskey and he made sure you had enough water in your to drown a rat. His hand on your lower back as you gulped down the water. His face was close to you, he eventually went in for a kiss on the cheek.

“I was wondering.” He said, “If I could come home with you tonight.”

You looked at him, still feeling buzzed, you smirked, “Tricky man.”

He leaned in for a kiss on the lips, your lipstick staining his lips, “Only when it works.” And before you knew it, he was pinning you to the back of the front door of your lavish townhouse.

His hands were working on the back of the gown.

“Fuck.” He said, “Why can’t they make dresses easier to get off. Like a fucking chastity belt.” He threw his head back and groaned, “Shit.”

You chuckled and undid the dress with ease. Then cupped his jaw and gave him a kiss, “Don’t worry.” You said, “It takes a special someone to get a woman out of a gown.”

You picked the dress up off the ground, and with a sway of your hips led Kuroo to the bedroom, where he was loosening his tie. He watched you take the pins out of your hair, hang up the dress and take your make up off.

Kuroo sat on the bed and groped at the bulge in his pants as he watched you exit the bathroom attached to the bedroom and get closer to him. You were lucky enough that you wore a matching set.

A deep green colour with black lace trim around it. You swayed over to him and said, “Let’s get you out of this.” Then dropped yourself in his lap. The bulge of his cock against your ass,

You pulled the tie off around his neck and unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt. You kissed his pronounced collarbone and chuckled.

“You’re a wicked woman.”

“I consider myself to know what I want. And that scares some men. I made all my wealth on my own and that’s a frightening concept to some.”

“Well, I’m not most men. I like a woman with a spark, especially one I can take to bed.” He took you off of his lap and groped your thigh tightly before he started to undress.

You saw the lines of his body, the beauty under that suit he wore. You were nice enough to hang up his clothes for when he left. Leaving them on the door to the closet just in case he didn’t want to spend the night.

“Usually women let my clothes get all wrinkled.” Kuroo chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck, “This isn’t like any one night stand I ever had.”

“I’m not like most women and you’re not like most men.” You smiled as you turned his arms and cupped his jaw, “So we make a perfect couple.” Then guided him back to the bed where he sat down and looked up at you.

You held his jaw and looked down to him. You were still a little tipsy, but your family raised you to be a good hostess, even if you were going to sleep with the guest.

You laid him down and then took off the remainder of you clothes, he shuffled to the head on the bed and you sat on his waist. His cock brushed against you. You smoothed your hands across his chest, feeling the warm skin and pressing on the tattoos of his torso.

His hands rested on your hips as he grinded up against you. Feeling the warmth of your body against his. He groaned when you seated yourself onto his cock. You almost saw his eyes roll back a little bit.

“Been a while, Tetsurõ?” You asked as you started to move against him. Long forgetting the idea of a condom.

“Far, far too long. At least with someone as compelling as you.” He rubbed his thumb against your hip bone and moved against you. Letting you ride his cock.

You smirked to yourself and continued to move against him. Most men you interacted with were rich men who wanted to increase their wealth by being with you. But Kuroo had no interest in your money, he was enchanted by your beauty and flintiness. He really was unlike most men.

You two continued to move against one another. Hot breathing and moans filled the air as you two moved. Kuroo held onto you as he thrusted up inside of you, feeling your wet heat.

“You’re fucking divine. Even better without the dress on, I love your curves.” He smirked up at you.

You looked down at him, thrusting your hips against him. You held onto his shoulders and bounced on his cock. You moved up and down on the length of his cock and threw your head back to get the hair out of your face.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you while I played.” He said, “I’m surprised I didn’t make a mistake with my keys. Emerald green is an amazing look on you. I would love to see you shining in green.”

“You better not mea jealousy. I can be a wicked woman.” You smirked.

He licked his lips, “Oh I bet, nothing like a scorned woman. I would hate to get on your bad side.” He gave an extra hard thrust into you. He gave you a wink before he continued to move.

“I guess you like strong women.”

“You have no idea.” He replied, “Especially when I make them feel good.”

It wasn’t long before you two were just rutting against each other. Long forgotten the rhythm of your movements. Just moving to your own accord. You panted and moaned.

He groaned loudly and his thighs quivered as you rode his cock. Soon your nails were digging into his shoulders and he felt like he was on cloud nine. He gripped your hips, leaving marks on your skin.

“You’re fucking amazing, fuck. I’m keeping you.”

You chuckled, “Most men say that, but they never keep to their promises.” You claw down his chest and he shivers.

“Oh don’t worry, I keep to my promises. My divine angel, fuck.” He grunted as he felt himself on the edge of orgasm.

“Good, I like men who keep their word.” You moaned as you felt the same way as him. Both sexually and emotionally, “I’d hate to have to put my claws in you for real.”

“Fuck.” He gasped.

You both came at the same time, like crashing tides over ocean rock. You both groaned and you fell on top of Kuroo. Pleasure washed over you, your eyes rolled back a little in the feeling.

But Kuroo held onto you, from your hips to wrapped around your shoulders. He kissed the top of your head, he felt his cum deep inside of you.

“How was that, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, Tetsurō.” You gasped.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now let’s get you cleaned up, a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be covered in cum like a whore.” He chuckled as he started to grab for tissues to clean you up.

You knew you were in good hands as your head remained dizzy from the pleasure and the lingering feelings of the amount of gin and tonics you drank. You were shocked by in the morning, you went down to your kitchen and sat Kuroo cooking eggs with bacon. He looked over to you and smiled, “I found some bacon and eggs in the fridge. No bread though.”

And that was how you nabbed yourself the piano player known as Tetsurō Kuroo. Even if you wanted to get rid of him, you couldn’t.

Months later, you showed up the jazz club. You were stunning as always, the gown you wore was different but still all the same diamonds. The gown was meant to accommodate the roundness that had formed in your midsection.

Kuroo watched you sit by the piano again. He smirked at you, “This next one will be good for a baby’s lullaby.”

“Good.” You said, “Maybe you’ll play it for me in private when he’s born.” And reached out for his hand to rest on your bump. He smiled and leaned in as he kissed you. As if he wasn’t playing music for you every day he could.

You picked up the glass of water that he left out for you and you got comfortable, it was going to be a long night of piano playing. But that was what Kuroo adored as much as he adored you. As he pulled his hand away to start playing, you watched him.

Maybe being stood up by men who thought they were better than you wasn’t so terrible. Not if it meant you got to meet the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. And that man being the father of your baby boy.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #tetsuro kuroo #tetsuro kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #kuroo smut #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyu!!#haikyuu x me #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo x y/n #kuroo #hq kuroo #kuroo x you #jazz au

198 notes · View notes

waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years ago

Text

Raise the Stakes, Part 8

I swear, I will wind this one up in the not-too-distant future but I keep kind of thinking of different things to do with it. Bad writer, bad. Finish your work!

You can find the previous bits of the story:

Place Your Bets

Part one two three four five six seven

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC (referenced Jay White x OFC)

Word count: 3,824

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, cursing

You feel like an idiot for actually believing that he was going to talk to you the next day, or that he was going to do anything other than ignore you the way he has since your arrival. If anything, he’s ignoring you harder than ever, or at least taking greater pains to be anywhere around you. If you see him, he’s always moving and with others. The wall between you is so thick you start gaslighting yourself, wondering if you imagined the tryst in your car.

The whole company is buzzing. It’s the last few days before the big Slammiversary show, the peak of their year. The excitement for the show and for finally having a small audience is mingled with the knowledge that every year, there are some surprises. THe bigwigs play their cards close to their chests, which means that the talent and behind the scenes people, yourself very much included, don’t know who could pop out at any moment. New Japan has been frustratingly tight-lipped. It’s supposed to be your job to bridge the gaps between New Japan and Impact but no one will tell you who might be trying to cross those bridges.

Is Nagata coming back? You’ll find out.

Another appearance by Phantasmo? Wait and see.

Tama and Tanga are mouthing off at the Good Brothers all the time on social media. Are they showing up?

It’s like shouting at a wall.

Finlay and Robinson are there, they tell you. Take care of them.

It’s almost more frustrating to hear that because, of course, you’d like to do that but one of them is very determined not to let that happen.

By Thursday afternoon, you’ve done everything you can.

“Take a day off,” Scott Damore, the man tasked with keeping this little beehive running tells you. “Go home and relax. You’ll want to be rested for Saturday.”

You want to tell him there’s no need for you to leave now but your aching back, neck, and head disagree.

“What time do you need me here Saturday?”

“Morning?” He looks surprised. “Just come in an hour or so before the show.”

“But what do you need me to do?”

“Sit in the audience, cheer at the right points, look excited if the camera passes you.”

“That’s it?”

“There’s nothing that needs to be liaised in the middle of a show. Grab a seat, have some fun. Be a fan for a few hours.”

You laugh a little because you can’t remember the last time you were able to just be a fan.

“You do like wrestling, don’t you?”

“I do,” you chuckle. “I just don’t really have the opportunity to indulge that very often.”

“So go home, have a nice dinner and a glass of wine. Do whatever it takes to get rid of that headache that I can see right through your skull. Spend the day in your pajamas playing videogames with teenagers online.”

You rise slowly, thanking him as you move to go.

“Hey,” he calls softly, “you’re doing a great job. Don’t think they’re not going to hear about it in Tokyo.”

It’s such a sweet note to leave on that you’re most of the way home, or to the temporary rental that’s passing for home right now, before you think about the fact that you haven’t laid eyes on David all day. He’s been around, because if he hadn’t been, you’re the one who would have had to field questions about it. But he’s been invisible to you.

You end up taking Scott’s suggestions very much to heart. You order dinner from the Chinese place you’ve become addicted to, watch early episodes of The Walking Dead, and have a couple of drinks until you can feel a warm blanket of sleepiness wrapping itself around you.

And that’s when your doorbell rings.

You grab your phone, although there’s a large part of you that wants to ignore it because it’s a little unnervingly late to be getting callers. But you pick it up just on that off chance, because there’s that sliver of hope that it’s…

“It’s David.” He sounds tired and grumpy but you don’t even care because he’s there, at your door and it makes your heart race. You buzz him in and then just stand in front of your apartment door like a complete idiot until you hear him knock.

As soon as you open the door, though, your heart sinks.

“Seriously?” he snaps, holding your panties up for anyone to see.

“How long does it take you to go through your damn pockets,” you hiss, trying to hide how close you are to crying.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You want me to get a restraining order?”

“I’m sorry,” you croak. “I know it was stupid, I just thought maybe if I left you a little reminder that… I don’t know. I thought that if I could get you back once…”

“You did not get me back. I’ve been lonely and I had a weak moment. And even then I couldn’t bring myself to fuck you.”

“Fine. I misinterpreted and thought it was me you wanted. Happy to have given you a show and a nice warm surface to rub one out.”

He throws your panties on the floor without another word. Now you have a problem. You know perfectly well that the second you let him out of your sight, he’s going to disappear. But the door to your apartment is going to lock automatically if it closes unless you step back inside and adjust it. So if you want to avoid giving him the chance to run away, you have to find a way to reach your discarded panties without allowing the door to close behind you.

Awkwardly, you bend forward but it’s immediately obvious that the offending garment is still out of reach. You try looking at him but he seems amused by your predicament. So you have to get right down on your knees and stretch, all while keeping your foot on the door, which weighs a ton. You’ve never felt less elegant in your life, nor more ridiculous than when you glare up at him. His expression is scornful and amused, but there’s a hint of something else you can see in his eyes. There you are, the bitch who he believes used him, the one who’s been begging for his attention, now on her knees in the most humiliating position.

You grab the scrap of fabric and scramble into a standing position before starting to speak. Unfortunately, you move enough that your foot slips from the door. You flinch as you hear the heavy thud.

“Fuck!” he yelps, loud enough you think the neighbors will show up.

It takes a second for you to register that he stuck his hand up to stop the door from closing and that the full weight of it crashed onto his fingers.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” It’s like every time he gets near you, something awful happens to him.

You push the door open and take his hand, trying to see if there’s any damage. He’s obviously irritated and tries to pull it back but it occurs to you that this could be serious.

“Come on, you have to at least let me put some ice on that.”

“No.”

“You have to. If it swells up, your hand could be screwed up for Saturday.”

He looks positively disgusted as it dawns on him that you’re right but he lets you lead him gently into your apartment.

You take out your ice tray and wrap a few cubes in the dish towel, pressing it softly against his hand. He swats you away and holds the makeshift ice pack himself. There’s a little grunted sound that might be a thank you.

“What even happened?”

“I thought the door was going to lock if it closed, I just tried to stop it. Don’t know why I did that.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, guilt soaking your voice. “I would have been locked out.”

“Boohoo.”

“I’m really sorry about the panties, I just-”

“You’re just a disaster area and I need to stay the fuck away from you. I should have just thrown your little present in your face at the show.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.”

“I’m going to wait a few minutes until I’m sure my hand is ok. I would really appreciate it if you would just not speak for the rest of the time I’m here.”

The look on his face is so pained, so defeated, that you just nod and look at the floor. But you can’t hold it in. The insanity of the situation you’ve put yourself in and the feeling of having him close enough to touch while also being so remote burns through your insides like a wildfire and you just… break.

You let one loud yelp out and then it’s nothing but tears and loud sobbing. He immediately looks up at you and although your vision is blurred, his expression isn’t unsympathetic but that just makes it worse and you cry harder as you try to speak.

“You’re right, you should stay away from me… I thought that if I came here… I thought that if you knew I left him�� that I left him for you…”

Your voice breaks up and you have to wipe your face just to keep yourself focused.

“I didn’t think about how bad I am… for you… for whatever… I just wanted…”

You break down in sobs again and you’re just about to go and hide on the balcony until he leaves when it happens. A miracle. He lays the towel on the counter and walks towards you. Even through your tears, you can see that his expression is much softer and that allows you to hold it together until he lays his hands on your shoulders and pulls you just a little closer.

At that point, once again, you lose it, the memory of how that touch felt back before you’d made a mess of everything. He presses you close to his chest, which amplifies the feeling and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, cupping your face with his hand.

You open your eyes a little and he makes a face.

“You’re a mess.”

“I know,” you blurt. “I don’t know why I do the shit I do, it’s just-”

“No, I mean your face… there’s mascara stuff happening. It looks like an oil spill.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, holding back the tears as he uses his sleeve to wipe your face.

“Your hands are freezing.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have another pair with me. Besides, it helps with swelling, remember?”

You laugh a little again, trembling when he holds your face in his hands. For the first time in ages, he doesn’t have any of that vicious resentment in his eyes. It’s almost like the way he looked at you that day you had breakfast in the cafe, just sadder.

He looks at you that way for what feels like a long time, allowing you to regain control of yourself.

“You have really cute ears.”

“Wh- what?”

He smiles. “Your ears. They’re so cute, you have no idea. You always have your hair pulled back or up and I just remember noticing at one point. I’d smile about it all the time when you weren’t looking.”

“How do ears… be cute?” You can’t imagine what he’s talking about and yet the weirdness of the compliment makes it wonderful.

“Come here.” He takes you by the wrist and leads you into the bathroom. He positions you in front of the mirror, standing behind you and pulling you back against his chest. He takes your jaw in his hand and gently turns your head so that you can see the side of your face and your apparently adorable ear.

“You see,” he explains, running his thumb delicately along the outer ridge, “it’s kind of big and round up here, and then it tapers right off into this perfectly proportional little lobe and it looks like a half a heart. So they look like two halves of a heart. I can’t believe you’ve never noticed this before.”

He laughs softly and presses his face against yours, the scrape of his beard on your skin sending shivers through your whole body. His lips touch your cheek so fleetingly that you almost wonder if you’ve imagined it.

“Crying takes it out of you,” he sighs. “Let’s put you to bed.”

You feel numb as he leads you into the bedroom and helps you onto the bed before turning to close your blinds.

“Do you like being back in the States?” you ask, hoping you can stretch out his visit a little longer.

“Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s weird, all the back and forth lately. I swear I think I’m still jet lagged, or I’m just permanently fucked up.”

You smile as he sits down on the side of the bed. He smiles back but he makes no move to touch you or get closer.

“How do you like Impact?”

“I like not working Japanese hours.”

“Damn, I’ll bet. It’s one thing with the wrestlers but they don’t give you guys a break ever.”

You suddenly realize that you don’t want to talk about your work in Japan at all.

“I heard your brother is getting into wrestling too now?”

“Yup. I’m not sure Dad wanted either of us doing this for a living but I guess it really is in the blood.”

He takes your hands and places them on your stomach, very ladylike and demure, and pats them with his.

“You need to get some sleep. I’ll go fight with the door to get out.”

“Tell me a bedtime story?” You try to make yourself sound as cute and harmless as possible and not like some crazed broad desperate to prolong the moment.

“No.”

You pout a little, gratified when you hear him chuckle.

“Ok, once upon a time there was an extremely silly little princess who could never figure out what she wanted. And no one ever seemed to be able to help her decide what that was, no matter how hard they tried. The end.”

You can’t help but give a wry laugh at that. “At least it’s nice to be a princess.”

“Who said I was talking about you?”

You stare at him a long time, trying to figure out how to untie all the knots of what you’ve done. You can’t even imagine. You’re still trying to figure it out when he bends down and touches his lips, very softly, very quickly, to yours.

He pulls back but then almost immediately repeats the gesture. Then repeats it again. And again. He shifts so that he’s hovering over you, continuing to give you these little kisses.

“Stop that,” he rasps.

“Stop what? You’re the one kissing me.”

“Hm. I guess you’re right.” He leans in again. “Stop me.”

“I don’t want to.”

He doesn’t stop.

“Yeah, I don’t really want you to stop me either.”

And from that point, it gets more insistent, more romantic, and more passionate, until you feel him easing your pants down and running his hands over your thighs and ass. Determined that he is not just going to turn this into another resentful mutual masturbation session, you pull at his shirt. He wriggles free of it immediately easing you out of yours.

“How do you manage to run around without a bra on like that?” He squeezes and licks at your breasts with a little wink.

“I’m in my own apartment. I’m allowed to walk around however I want.”

“Yeah. But you don’t always wear one at work either, do you?”

He crashes his mouth into yours, tongue eagerly breaching your lips.

“Don’t think I don’t notice,” he pants.

He slides down and presses his face between your legs before you can think of a witty comeback, and once he does, you can’t think of anything. It’s so intense, so determined the way he goes at this, the way he picks up on every little twitch and tremor in your body, how he paces himself and you enough that it never feels like a rush to a goal. You don’t deserve this. You have no right to have him be this good to you.

You twist your hand in his hair, pulling it loose from the disheveled bun he’s always sporting. The parts of it that were trapped inside are still damp and you tug firmly to make him look up at you.

“Did you shower before you came over here?”

He smiles coyly and presses two fingers inside you, curling them like he’s beckoning you forward, making you moan and twist even as you’re trying to keep your mind focused.

“I shower pretty frequently,” he grins, “what’s it to you?”

He presses his lips close to your clit, allowing his tongue to flick ever so lightly against it.

“I don’t know,” you breathe, trying not to get overwhelmed by what he’s doing, “I like thinking you got yourself all cleaned up and handsome for me.”

You feel the soft vibrations of his laughter as he dives back into you, tongue pushing up inside you and making you scream before you grab at his hair again.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” you whimper.

“Oh I love doing it.”

“I mean I don’t know why you’re doing this to me, when I’ve been so-”

You’re cut off as he goes right back at it, licking and pushing harder for a few seconds before he whispers, “If you had any idea how often I’ve jerked off fantasizing about eating you out, you’d probably stop speaking to me.”

With that he pins you down and continues in earnest, going at you with a zealot’s vigor so that you can’t question him or do anything but scream and beg him to continue what he’s doing until you fall apart, trembling and gasping.

You feel him wriggle out of his pants before he pulls you onto his lap, kissing you and playfully biting at your lips, his arms wound tight around your waist. You run your hand slowly down the length of his shaft, smiling at the little gasp this elicits.

“I want you inside me.”

“Yeah…” the hesitance in his voice terrifies you. “I was… I was hopeful enough to get all showered and freshened up before I came over but I wasn’t so confident that I actually brought any kind of protection with me.”

“I’m on birth control. And I get checked regularly, I swear, I’m-”

He kisses you hard, so passionately that you almost tumble over.

“You sure?” he whispers when he breaks the kiss.

“Very sure.”

He flips you onto your knees and pulls your hips back towards him. As he enters you, you realize that you’d convinced yourself you weren’t ever going to get this again. It’s like a reprieve from prison, feeling him fill you up.

He leans down enough that the feathery tips of his hair brush against the skin of your back, a stark contrast to the powerful hold he has on your hips. There’s an unbroken stream of praises coming from him but all you can think of to whimper in response is, “Thank you.”

“What?”

He slows his pace just a little.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “I didn’t think you’d want to touch me again. I don’t deserve you being this good to me.”

“Oh sweetheart no.” He pulls you up and holds you against his damp chest, one hand immediately falling to your clit while he continues to thrust inside you. “It’s ok, I’ve got you. I want to feel you come again, I want you to come on my cock.”

You let yourself relax into his touch and it takes very little time until he has you falling apart for him again, your muscles contracting sharply around him as he clearly fights to keep control.

He flips you onto your back like you’re nothing and smiles down at your dazed face.

“Let’s do this right.”

He leans down and pushes himself back inside you slowly crushing your body close to his and planting a fierce kiss on your lips. His movements are agonizingly slow, letting you feel every bit of what’s happening, picking up only when you hitch your hips against his. He keeps you wrapped up tight and close, faces practically touching as he finally lets himself come, eyes locked on yours. It’s a long, tender few minutes while he holds you, touching his lips to your forehead.

“I love you.” You just put it out there before the post-coital haze can fade, hoping it’ll stop him from closing himself off again.

“I love you too,” he whispers, nuzzling against the side of your head. “But you knew that already.”

You dig your nails into his shoulders a little.

“Stay with me. Sleep here, please.”

He looks thoughtful but it doesn’t take long for him to smile, stroking your cheek as he does.

“Yeah,” he beams, “I will.”

He rolls onto his side and pulls you close again.

“Did you seriously think I was going to be able to stay away from you forever?”

“Yes. I was pretty sure that you didn’t entirely want to, but I figured you’d fight it off.”

“How long have we known each other?”

“About six years.”

“You were working at the dojo and we all used to hang out together, right?”

“Yes.”

“How long had we been there before I asked you out to dinner?”

“I don’t know. A few months.”

“Closer to four. And I was already so hung up on you that I could barely think straight when you were around.”

You look at him in surprise. Yes, you’d known that he’d flirted a lot, but at that point all the boys at the dojo were trying to scheme their way into your pants. You’d always assumed that his real interest had developed much later.

“Yeah,” he says, noticing your expression, “I was that into you that early. And you know damn well it only got more intense from there.”

He wraps his arms around you and presses your head against his chest, kissing your hair. “And you thought that having finally gotten to take you to bed, having gotten you to say that you liked me, that I was going to be able to walk away?”

You squeeze him tight and nestle against him, your head immediately finding its way to the hollow of his shoulder. And as soon as it does, your whole body feels warm and safe and content. You want to keep talking to him but you can’t because this sort of bliss doesn't allow you to stay awake.

#david finlay fanfic #david finlay imagine #njpw fanfic #njpw imagine #impact wrestling fanfic #jay white fanfic #jay white imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction #wayward wrestle writing

18 notes · View notes

jenn-i-guess · 4 years ago

Text

Doing Stupid Things Make You Stupid Sick//Kiribaku

I bet Kirishima would be so focused on exercising and training that he would barely notice his own health.

So of course one day, he wakes up sick and groggy.

He woke up to loud thundering coming from his door, and loud yelling coming from the other side.

"Shitty hair! You're gonna be fuckin late!"

Ah.

Kirishima sat up in his bed and almost completely toppled over. His head was spinning around in circles, and he felt liquid dripping from his nose.

He wiped his face with a clammy hand, too disoriented to use his voice.

"Bluh?"

He jumped up in his bed as his dorm door slammed open, an angry Katsuki on the other side.

"Oi, shithead! You must be a shit boyfriend, ignoring me!" Bakugou yelled.

Oh yeah, his boyfriend.

Wait why was he here again?

Kirishima sniffed as he tried to squint his eyes to see his boyfriend better but only saw and angry blonde blur.

"Hello?! Are you gonna sit there forever or are you going-"

Katsuki cut himself off as he walked closer, now noticing Kirishima's pale skin and snotty nose.

"Are you sick?" Those words were spoken much softer than before, and Kirishima was glad that he wasn't yelling anymore.

"Wassit look like?" Eijirou wheezed, falling back against his pillows.

"You look like absolute shit." Bakugou responded, snorting when Eijirou barely looked his way at him.

Katsuki made sure to shut the door behind him before making his way towards his boyfriend's bed.

He sighed before pressing a palm to his damp forehead, trying to remember what exactly his own mom would do when he was sick.

"How'd you even get sick anyways, you were fine yesterday?"

Kirishima groaned in response, but he leaned into his boyfriend's touch, fascinated that his usually warm hands actually felt cold for once.

"I dunno, I was training last night, then I ate, and then I went to sleep!"

Katsuki raised one blonde eyebrow at him, remembering not seeing the redhead at dinner yesterday.

"Really? I didn't see you there."

Kiri froze before slyly turning his head away, becoming entranced with his lap as he stared down. "Well, I didn't say I ate at dinner time."

Bakugou gaped at him, struggling to take in the words he spoke.

Oh.

The blonde sighed while taking his hand away, but not before slapping his boyfriend upside his head.

"Ow! What the hell man?" Eijirou whined, rubbing his flattened down hair.

"How fucking long did you train for, dipshit?" Bakugou demanded, staring down menacingly at him.

Kiri groaned as he sat up, digging his palms into his tired eyes. "I dunno! It wasn't that late...I think?"

Bakugou groaned as well, "You think?"

"'S probably why you're sick, dumbass. Now I gotta take care of your stupid ass."

Kiri chuckled, "You said ass twice in that sentence. Must like it that much, eh?"

That earned him another slap upside his boggled head.

"Stop that shit." Katsuki mumbled, before pushing his hand through his boyfriend's messed up hair.

"Bluhhhhh! You're so mean Kat-su-ki~"

Bakugou sat up, leaving Kirishima to flop back down on his bed, whining as he left the room.

He made his way to the kitchen where he immediately raided the cupboards, looking for a familiar can anywhere.

"Kacchan?"

Bakugou stopped and slowly turned around, glaring at Deku who was standing by the countertops, looking at him confusingly.

"What?" He did not want to deal with this nerd, especially not at this hour.

"Um, aren't you going to class?" Deku responded, pointing to the elevator which was beginning to crowd with their classmates, everyone dressed in their uniforms.

Bakugou sighed, turning back to the open cupboard and grabbing a single can of chicken noodle soup.

"No. Shitty hairs sick, tell Aizawa I'm watching him." He explained, already beginning to get a headache when he turned around and Deku was still standing there.

"Oh! You're taking care of him?"

Bakugou gritted his teeth once again, "No, I'm making sure he doesn't do any stupid shit while you're all gone!" He snapped at him.

Deku laughed nervously before backing away towards the elevator, "O-okay, I'll tell Aizawa then!"

Katsuki watched as Deku barely made it in the closing elevator doors before finally having the kitchen in silence.

He moved around, grabbing a pot and smacking it onto the oven, turning the heat on.

Bakugou wasn't taking care of Kirishima, he said to himself as he poured the can of soup he definitely wasn't eating for himself into the pot.

But fuck it if he was leaving him alone. It was Eijirou, who knows what the dumbass would do while he was away.

Probably something stupid to do while he was sick, like exercising.

He let the soup heat up over the stove before walking back towards the hallway leading to their dorms.

Katsuki stopped suddenly when he heard a retching sound, not coming from his or Eijirou's room, but from the bathroom down the hall further.

"Ei?" Bakugou called out, swiftly walking into the boy's bathroom and immediately scrunching up his nose at the smell of something wafting from inside.

He carefully walked in as the sounds got louder, making his own stomach sick and queasy.

It was only until he got to one of the opened stalls when he noticed his boyfriend, hunched over the toilet and vomiting the contents of his stomach.

"Shit, Ei? Are you alright?" Bakugou asked as he walked closer, pressing his hand onto his back and rubbing up and down soothingly.

Kirishima didn't say anything as his body shook with each heave, only whining as he lifted his head up.

Katsuki winced as he saw the redheads face, covered in drool, tears and vomit.

He leaned over and ripped off a couple pieces of toilet paper before softly dabbing his face, carefully getting rid of the fluids on it.

"Kats..." Eijirou whined, sniffling his nose as he rubbed his throat which was probably sore.

"I know I know. Just hold on." Bakugou muttered, throwing the toilet paper into the toilet before flushing it, getting on his knees so that he could hoist his boyfriend up.

Kirishima didn't complain, which was a bit worrying since he liked to be annoying when he was being helped.

He was very light too, and very sweaty. Bakugou groaned as they shuffled out of the bathroom, opening Ei's door with one foot as he carefully walked in.

He didn't even hear his boyfriend walk into the bathroom, and he didn't even want to imagine how much pain he was in.

Kirishima wheezed as he was gently set down on the bed, swaying a bit before he fell back down onto his pillows, letting out huffs of air.

"I made you soup." Bakugou said, pulling up the covers and tucking them into Kiri's body.

"Mm. Great." He croaked out, wiping his eyes once more before grabbing Bakugou's hand and pressing his cheek against it.

"You're so warm." He sighed, smushing his cheek as he pressed his hand further into his face.

"And you're hot as hell," Katsuki mumbled before pulling his hand away, "Lemme go get the damn soup."

Eijirou whined again but let the hand be pulled away from his face.

As he left the room, Bakugou made sure to keep the door open, just in case.

The soup was steaming on the stove but thankfully was not burned, and Bakugou was glad for it as he pulled out a bowl and poured the contents in.

He turned the stove off, put the pot into the sink and grabbed a spoon and a napkin before walking back in Eijirou's room.

Kirishima was slumped over his bed when he walked in, but perked up at the smell of hot soup.

"Soup?" He turned his head towards Bakugou, smiling as best as he could when the blonde placed it into his lap before climbing into his bed.

"Yea, here." Katsuki mumbled as he gave him the spoon and napkin, making sure he had a good grip on the bowl so that his hard work wouldn't spill.

And as he turned to look away, he felt a hot wetness on his cheek and he looked back to see that Kirishima had given him a sloppy kiss, before shoveling hot soup.

"Danks!" Kiri said around a mouthful, slurping the liquid down cheerfully.

Katsuki smirked as he saw color beginning to come back into Kiri's skin, and his eyes already seemed to be getting less dull.

Sinking down into the bed, he dozed off to the sounds of his boyfriend sipping the soup, glad that he was beginning to feel better.

#bnha #my hero academia #mha #boku no here academia #boku no hero academia #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima #kiribaku #bakushima #krbk #kiribaku fic #bakushima fic #krbk fic #anime fic #kiribaku fanfic

73 notes · View notes

justoneday-namjoonii · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Breathe | 5.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of borderline Stockholm syndrome and Lima syndrome, brief mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, guns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DO NOT love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 - pt.5.5 - pt.6.0

a/n: this is a heavy and wordy chapter so bare with me, we’re almost at the finale! thank you for reading and i hope u enjoy!💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie @tangledsparkles @yes-sol-not-soul (sorry :( tumblr won’t let me tag you) @sarzkh31

When you woke up this morning, you felt nauseous, sick to your stomach. Last night, while you were sleeping, he packed up some basic necessities and put them in his car. He said Yeosang would be by soon to officialese everything and that you could relax until then. But you can’t, you’re head hurts so bad, you want to throw up.

“I was in the other room but I didn’t hear you get up, I would’ve made you breakfast,” Taehyung leans against the bathroom door frame and watches you, you’re dressed and he’s wondering how he missed you waking up and showering. You’re busy brushing your teeth, still wanting to pass out from how bad your headache is, but you decide against it.

“Did you sleep well?” You nod, spitting in the sink with the running water. He tilts his head, already picking up on your change in demeanor. Taking a step towards you, he lifts your chin to get you to look him in the eye, “Hey, I know that face, look at me,” Concern coats his expression and you will yourself to finally look at him, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m just- I don’t know, I’m nervous about all of this,” You walk past him into the bedroom, the beautiful bedroom you’ll probably never get to share with him again, “what if things don’t work out? What if your friend can��t help us, then what?” You sit on the edge of the bed, hugging yourself at the thought, the terror you would endure if this all went south. “I’m scared, I have this bad feeling, it’s making me really uneasy...”

“I know,” Taehyung can’t say he’s never had those thoughts, it plagues his mind too. The thought of no longer having the comfort of each other, the joy in your smiles and laughter being taken, it’s scary. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands into his with a light squeeze.

“I know it’s scary, and we’re taking a huge risk,” He tilts his head, puppy-dog eyes peering into your weary ones, “but I promise, I’m doing what’s best to keep us safe and together, alright baby?” He caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand, but the affection makes you pout rather than feel better.

“Hey, and guess what? Once this is all over, we’ll be shopping at local markets to buy fresh produce for us to cook with,” He smiles, trying to lighten up your mood with the dreamy idea, “we can paint whatever we can get our hands on, with whatever paint you want, you can write stories and poems during picnics, we could do whatever your heart desires, we’ll have a new life together,” He thumbs at the backs of your hands, tugging at your heartstrings to get you to smile. “I’ll even get you a puppy if you want one, doesn’t that sound perfect?”

You can’t help but form a little grin at the thought. “It does...”

“That’s what’s waiting for us bunny, we just have to wait for a little while,” He sits up to cup the back of your neck and places a firm kiss on your lips, so soft and warm but short-lived when he pulls away, “so give me a little smile, please?” You oblige, smiling down at him and he pinches your chin with a giggle.

"There you go, that’s my sweet girl,” He stands up and takes you with him, arms wrapped just at your thighs to keep you above ground, “why don’t you go get a few paintings to take with you, while I pack up a few things, and you can wear my favorite bracelet for good luck,”

”Pack?” You sigh, feet hitting the ground when he let’s you go. He slips off the black threaded bracelet and tightens it around your wrist with a smile. “Do you want me to help-”

“You go, I got it,” He holds your head in his hands and kisses between your brows with an audible smooch which made you laugh, “go on.”

With a pat on your butt, you’re making your way out of the bedroom and down to the basement. When you get down there, you realize the number of paintings you have. There are about ten to fifteen finished paintings and the others are unfinished. The little story that’s being written is illustrated in this painting, wonder and lover is illustrated in these paintings. In your attempt to pick a few, you notice the little cushion he got for you months ago. Sometimes, it doesn’t even register to you that once you were stuck down here, fighting and dying to leave this place. Now you’re almost in tears at the thought of having to leave.

But you’re new life is ahead of you, you should be happy.

Leu is facing a political nightmare, there’s a chance he won’t recover from this. Scandals happen all the time, affairs, bribery, on rare occasions, perjury. But seldom is a man of his prowess busted for abetting in multiple murders. There’s no coming back from this. He’s been tracking the phone for a few weeks, and only recently did he realize it was active recently. He completely missed it. When he arrived at the police station, he gave one of the detectives the phone number to hopefully track. He’s been waiting in a room filled with computers and busy interns, just waiting for results. When he considers leaving the room for another bland coffee, he gets a phone call. Looking down at the screen, he sees who it is and decides to answer it.

Yoongi dismisses himself and steps into the hall, “Hello?”

“Jin told me you all found the person who hired the group that killed all those people and took Y/n, is that true?” She sounds hopeful.

“We found him. I can’t reveal too much but we’re hammering down on the search, trying to track the location of the cellphone.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Her voice falters a bit, “there are some sick people out there, I just pray she’s not with one of them.”

He has to cut the call short when one of the tech people waves aggressively to get his attention.

“We just got a location,” The woman beckons him back into the room, “it’s about an hour and a half away from here, in what looks like one of the upper-class neighborhoods on the east-side.”

Yoongi walks over to the computer, eyes skimming over the estimated location of the cellphone. “The phone was traced to that location?”

He’s surprised that your phone would be in such a nice area, but then again he knows what the Hwan Group has been rumored to do. They’ve sold they’re victims to high-paying old men and women who’re looking to fulfill their sick desires in innocent people. It’s repulsive. He can’t help the churn he feels in his stomach when the thought of a person being used like that crosses his mind. In his career in the FBI and even as a PI now, he’s seen some shit. And no matter how many times he’s walked in on dead bodies, shackled victims, bloodied crime scenes, seeing people mistreated makes him sick. But what keeps him doing this is the chance, the small but promising chance that the victim might be alive.

“How long was it on?”

“Not sure, but it was turned on about 2 hours ago and then shut off, must’ve died,” She types a string of letters and another tab pops up, “this is the address.” Promptly, the printer in the corner of the room spits out the paper with the address and she rolls her chair over to it.

“If she’s anywhere, here is your best bet.”

The room is filled with men in black gear, heavy leather boots, and guns on their hips. When Minho gives the word, they all pile into the van and Minho gets in the backseat of his car—he tells the driver to wait before pulling out.

“Shit,” He lets out a deep sigh, dress-shirt feeling too tight on his neck. “he brought this on his self, he brought this on his damn self and he didn’t give me any other choice, right?”

Jimin sits beside him, nodding his head in agreement. “Absolutely, he can’t blame you for this, he knows the price of the job,”

“Doesn’t make it any easier, out of everyone, he was the last person I thought would pull something like this, I still don’t fully believe it-”

“Well,” Jimin interjects, making a thoughtful expression, “maybe he did kill the target and he’s just being hush-hush about it, the girl could’ve put up a fight or- I don’t know, anything could have happened.”

“Maybe,” He takes out his phone, pressing a contact, “but I’m going to give him one more chance,” Waiting for a few seconds, deep down inside he hopes Taehyung will answer. Sadly, the call goes to voicemail and he sets the phone down and sighs, there’s nothing else he can do.

“He didn’t answer, he’s buying time,” Jimin confirms the inevitable, “he knows what he’s doing, it’s best we confront him now.”

Minho pats the back of the driver's chair. “Go ahead.”

He was plundering through the drawers when he found your cellphone stacked on a small pile of books. Assuming he’d be able to wipe it, he tucked is into the little bag along with a few of the books he knew you liked to read. Packing up this stuff reminds him of the night he took you from your house, the night that changed his life. It had been after so much time watching you, learning our lifestyle. He knows now that if he had a chance to learn all of that about you in a different circumstance, like as friend that would slowly morph into something more, he’d take that chance.

The buzzing of his phone pulls him from his thoughts, thinking it was Minho again, he was about to ignore it, but he peeks at the screen to see that it’s Yeosang. Quickly, he answers the call and presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Good news, the condo is in your name and ready to go. The bad news is, the flights have been delayed due to bad weather, it’s about a 2-hour delay, could be more.”

“Shit, that would happen,” Taehyung presses his temples, “how close are you?’

“About 45 minutes? Something like that. Do you want me to get her to the airport and you drive separately or do you want me to-”

“If you pick her up that’ll be fine but I was hoping for both of us to get out of here sooner than that,” He zips up the backpack and leaves the room with the flick of the light, “Minho tried to call me and I didn’t answer, he knows something,”

“I want to help you guys,” Yeosang stresses, “maybe you could drive all the way and take a flight from a city further down.”

“That might work if I leave right now,” Taehyung mentally flips through his options and the possibilities are starting to grow slimmer in his mind, “you know what, listen out for me, I need to get her ready. I’ll call you back when we’re in route.”

Taking the little bag with him, he goes downstairs and searches for his computer, but he realizes it’s packed away. He was going to see if there were any loose strings that he might now have noticed.

That’s when he hears a heavy knock on the door. He stands frozen, waiting for a second knock. There is a second knock and a booming voice from the other side.

“Kim! I know you’re in there.”

it’s too late, he’s here. Without a second to lose, he runs down to the basement where you’re peacefully admiring your first painting.

All of a sudden, he hugs you and the painting falls from your grasp, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, he’s here,” He goes to turn off the light and you pick up the painting down to put it back, barely registering what he’s saying, ��you need to hide while I buy us some time.”

“Wha- What? No, I want to stay with you,” Your hands are shaking and you feel like you’re getting that sick feeling again—this can’t be happening. “Tae, don’t leave me, what if something happens to you?-”

“Shh, it’ll be okay, I need you to hide under here,” He guides you over to the tiny space under the staircase, gesturing for you to kneel down. You do as he says and he kneels in front of you, every fiber in his body telling him to stay by your side, but he knows he can’t. He holds you in a warm embrace as if it was the last time, he always does it like it’s the last time. “It’s okay, just stay here.”

With that, you’re left in the pitch-black basement, curled up under the stairs, and wishing this was all just a bad dream. But the sound of the front door opening gives you the confirmation that this is your worst nightmare coming to life.

He opened the door a few minutes ago, Minho and Jimin had pushed past him to get inside, about ten suited-up guys follow and the door slammed on there way in. With little struggle, they had Taehyung sit on the couch while Minho paced in front of him as his team tears the place apart.

“I didn’t want to do this to you.” That’s the first thing Minho says.

“I can see that,” Tae responds plainly.

“You brought this upon yourself you know,” Minho stands in front of him, hands in his pockets with a cold glare on his face, “whatever the hell you were trying to do, it’s over now.”

Taehyung stays quiet, pissing Minho off even more.

“Do you know what you’ve done to this organization? We’re on the radar because you took that woman. Now the cops are involved, they’re onto us and they won’t stop until they find her. Why choose to go rogue now? Your contract ends in a year and you decide to spend it ruining your reputation? Out of everyone in the company, you were the last person I thought I’d have to worry about, you were my absolute best, and now that’s all gone to hell,” He bites his bottom-lip, getting impatient with Taehyung’s unchanging demeanor, “do you even care?”

He just stares at him blankly.

“Nothing upstairs,” About three guys come from downstairs.

“Downstairs is clear,” The others emerge from the other parts of the house, also empty-handed, "no signs of a body or that anyone else was living here sir-”

“Check again!” Minho snaps, kicking the coffee table across the room with a loud curse, “Look outside, tear the damn place apart if you have to, she has to be somewhere.”

He goes on and on, going red in the face he’s so livid, Taehyung was his favorite. The fussing becomes a bit repetitive to Jimin, so he decides to go off and do his own search, that’s when Tae gets truly nervous for the first time, Jimin has a knack for finding the unsuspecting.

Footsteps can be heard throughout the entire house. You only flinch when you hear a loud thump, like a table being thrown or broken against the wall. You brace yourself, placing your hands on your ears until the footsteps cease. You breathe in and out shallowly, trying to listen for Taehyung. You haven’t heard him once, not one sound.

Your heart drops when you hear the high pitched squeak of the basement door opening. Light slips into the darkroom. Heavy footsteps on the stair-well reverberate against your ears.

He’s a painter? He would be, wouldn’t he? A man mumbles to himself. Peeking from behind the wooden beam that’s shielding you, you see a man with shiny black hair looking at your paintings. You close your eyes and cover your mouth, tears pricking at your eyes from the sheer suspense of it all. Your body is shaking, sweating and the need to gasp for more air becomes critical to your sanity. But you hold it in, you block out the rapid heartbeat pounding against your rib-cage.

“Where are you...” He speaks clearer now as if he knows you’re here as if he knows you’re trying to block him out. Eyes squeezed shut, your curl in on yourself, trying so hard not to make a sound. His footsteps become louder, his shadow appears on the wall opposite of you like a lurking monster, seeking to cause you nothing but terror. In contrast, he hums a little song softly.

If you close your eyes, he’ll go away, just close your eyes and he’ll go away.

“There you are,” You look straight at him and your fight or flight kicks in. You try to make a run for it but he easily grabs you, “hey! Stop- Stop fighting, I’m not gonna hurt you! Calm down-”

You scream but he clamps a hand over your mouth. Squirming violently, you try to bite his hand but he removes it before you can. He fights to drag you upstairs as you cry out for help. “Let go of me!”

When Taehyung hears your cries, all that goes through his mind is that he has to be with you. He darts past Minho to get to you but one of the guys tackle him to the ground. He calls out to you anyway, “I’m here! Y/n, it’s okay,”

Minho’s thrown off by what he thinks is a loving tone, “Keep him down.” He orders the men as he waits for the squealing female to be brought to him.

“Here she is, found her hiding under the staircase,” Jimin emerges with a smile and a red scratch on his brow courtesy of you, “she is very much alive.” He drops you on the ground in front of Minho. On your hands and knees and you look up with weary eyes.

“Oh Taehyung, you’ve been hiding her this entire time, you lied to me,” He kneels in front of your trembling form, head tilted and a hand reaching out to cup your jaw, “she is a pretty little thing, I get it. But if you wanted to keep her, why didn't you just say so? That could have been arranged,” You jerk away, “I just never thought you were the type to want toys like this.”

“That’s not what this is, she’s not a sexual object,” The men pull Tae to his feet and he finally sees you, on the ground, paralyzed with uncertainty, “I’ve been protecting her from you.”

“When have you ever protected a target from me? You take the job, I never force you to take a fucking job, Kim. This is your fault because you missed her and then had to go back to the job, then you watched her for too long and got attached, the very thing I warned you about that when you first joined.”

You look back at Taehyung, searching for some type of comfort in his eyes, but you’re stalled by the painful sting in your scalp, “Ow!-”

“This woman?” He fists your hair, pulling you to your feet. You grasp his wrist to try to loosen his grip but it only tightens, sending a burn down your back tears to your eyes. It’s deliberate torture for Taehyung to watch because he can’t do anything about it.

“This fucking woman should have been dead, and since you fucked everything up, I have to take care of her myself. But I don’t get it, you’ve killed dozens before, she shouldn’t have been a problem, but you got obsessed and she just had to be yours, didn’t she? That’s pathetic.” He shakes his head, disappointed.

“Do you not remember? You signed the contract for 7 years, you don’t get to experience real love in this job, and you know that better than anyone. How could anyone love you after what you’ve done? You’ve told me that countless times, what’s with the sudden change in heart?”

Taehyung looks away for the first time, it’s all true, when Tae signed the contract, he was sure he’d never have to worry about being attached to anyone. He didn’t love anyone, and no one loved him or ever could, so the job was perfect. No worried messages from a mother, disappointing looks from a father— if he has no one, there’s no one to disappoint, no one to secretly hate him. He ruled out the possibility that someone would ever want to love him, truly love him. Then came you and he loved, he was loved.

“She doesn’t deserve to this, she doesn’t deserve to die. She didn’t do anything wrong,” Taehyung looks into in your eyes, trying to communicate to you, trying to think of a way to get out of here, “I swear, if you touch her-”

“Don’t give me that shit, you’ve killed all kinds of people, good, bad and in between, what makes her any different?-”

His sentence is cut short when Taehyung suddenly jerks against the men holding him and he gets free. He gets a hold of the gun and points it at Minho. Your hair is released but the man now holds you with an arm anchored around your neck.

“Let her go,” Taehyung takes short strides towards you two as the barrel of the gun stays square to Minho’s forehead, “you know I’m a straight shot, I could kill you right now,” He cocks the gun, the action making you shutter, “get your hands off of her.”

“You won’t do it,” Minho is already holding it to your head, arm secured around your neck. “if you kill me, you kill her, that’s not what you want,” He shoves the barrel against your scalp and you bite your lip hard to stop from sobbing. “I will kill her if I have to, then this will all be over. But if you put that gun down, and do exactly what I say, she stays alive, I promise.”

“Tae- Taehyung,” You manage to choke out, clawing at Minho’s arms frantically, “please-” He tightens his grip on your poor neck and that’s when Taehyung raises his hands in surrender and he’s immediately brought to his knees.

“Alright! Just stop, stop! She can’t fucking breathe! Please,” As soon as they take the gun, Minho throws you on the hard floor and you gasp for air, coughing violently as you brace on your hands and knees, “do what you want with me, just don’t hurt her.”

“Huh,” He groans, clicking his teeth in contemplation, “since you are my favorite and you’ll probably never see her again, why don’t you give her some love before you go? I’ll give you that at least.”

Taehyung down looks at you then at Minho. “What?”

“I’m giving you a chance to say goodbye,” Minho nudges you with his hand, making you flinch, “hurry up before I change my mind.”

The men are still holding him, his arms behind his back. He bites back tears as you sit frozen, mirroring his pained expression. “Y/n, it’s okay,” He calls for you, pulling against the retrains, “come here, baby,” You begin to crawl over to him, but you’re still hesitant to get near the people holding him, “let go! What the fuck do think I’m gonna do?!-”

“Let’m go, he won’t do anything stupid.”

Once he’s freed, he cocoons you in his arms, his body is warm and his energy is calm as he cradles you close. Minho stops to observe a version of Taehyung he has never witnessed before. He’s on his knees, holding you to his chest as you cling to him. Your knuckles must be white from how hard you’re gripping his shirt. Your eyes are squeezed shut, you’re shaking, petrified with the thought of never feeling this again. You can’t live like that, you could die without this. “T-Tae, don’t let them t- take me, don’t let them take me-...” You hiccup through your sobs, holding on to the little bit of affection that might be the last.

“Shh, I’ll fix this,” He whispers just low enough for you to hear, “I promise...”

You feel his hand go to your hair and he pulls your head back to bring your lips to his—you can’t live without this. He parts his lips, kissing you as if you two were the only ones in the room, as if you’re in bed, heart-to-heart, feeling loved. Shamelessly, you push against him for more and you can taste your tears, are those your tears and his tears?

“My God,” Minho tucks the gun back in its holster with a scoff, “from the looks of it, you’d think he actually loves her.” Minho makes a thoughtful expression, smirking down at Tae who’s resting his head on your shoulder as you hold him tight. He signals at Jimin who’s watching the scene with interest, “Okay, that’s enough.”

The embrace is broken when you’re ripped away and Taehyung is tackled to the ground with loud cursing. You let out heartwrenching sobs, eyes glazing over with sheer horror, “No! Please! I’ll do anything, I won’t say anything about this I swear! Just don’t do this, please!”

Minho dismisses you entirely, more interested in Tae’s reaction. “That’s all it takes?” Minho walks over to him, laughing when Jimin and another guy struggling to hold him back, “Years of training and killing, and it only takes her to break you?”

“Go to hell.”

Minho shakes his head with a sigh, pitying him. “Put her in the car.”

Yoongi is in the car with two other officers ready to give the signal any time now. He knows something is going on but whatever happens, he’s determined to get you home safe. When he looks into the house from the car he sees a shadow pass the front window.

He holds the button on the com. “We’re moving in now.”

It was a blur when it all happened. You were crying and being dragged away from when the door burst open. Officers stormed the house. Guns go off and your ears ring painfully. They rush in and so many people are everywhere—your oasis, your little paradise is being made a battleground. You cry when the man holding you bumped into a vase and drops you near it. He flees out the back door, but you’re frozen, everything is in disarray but the one person you do see is Taehyung who’s being handcuffed along with so many others. He mouths something but you can’t make it out. He shakes his head, you don’t know what he’s saying, what is he trying to say?

“I’ve got her, she’s here!” A man is yelling to the others, you didn’t register he was kneeling beside you.

“Y/n, we’re here to help you, you’re safe now,” He moves to block your view from what’s happening behind him. You don’t verbally respond, but your eyes are teary, breathing rapid, lips trembling.

“She’s hurt! I’m taking her out.”

You’re having derealization episode, or a panic attack, or both. You might be looking at him, but you’re acting like you don’t know where you are, you’re not even aware of the wound on your leg.

Who is this man?”

“Who are you?...” You speak for the first time, and you pear at him with wavering eye-contact, his eyes look kind.

“Yoongi. I’m going to pick you up, is that okay?” You nod after he wraps your leg tightly with his jacket, he lifts you into his arms and carries out of the house.

You can’t see Taehyung, you don’t know where they took him. Yoongi notices how you twist in his arms to look behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone or something, he doesn’t know. All you see are a bunch of officers and Minho’s people being cuffed and shuffled into squad cars.

You’re taken past all of the squad cars and put you in the back seat of a black SUV and Yoongi disappears. A woman kneels down to tend to your leg, when did your leg start bleeding? You frown down at her when she cuts you pant-leg, tossing the denim to the ground, she notices instantly.

“My name is Chloe, sweetheart. I’m a paramedic, I just need to stop the bleeding until you can get stitches,” Her lips are moving, you know they are but you have no idea what she’s saying.

She mumbles to the man beside her, an EMT, give her the shock blanket. With a small nod, the man scurries off and returns with a silver tarp-like material and wraps it around you with gentle hands.

That man called Yoongi comes back and he’s talking on the phone with someone, he pushes back his middle-parted black hair and gets in the passenger's seat. Chloe finishes wrapping your leg and gently puts your legs in the vehicle, hooks you in your seat-belt, and promptly closing the door to seal you inside. This is too much, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You start heaving, hand on your chest and body rocking back and forth to soothe yourself. They think they’re saving you, they’re not saving you.

They’re tearing everything apart.

“Wait one second,” Yoongi moves the phone from his ear and looks back at you, the color has left your face completely. Your hands are shaking and it feels like there’s a heater right in front of your face.

Yoongi reaches his hand back to get you to calm down but you don’t even look at him, your stomach aches all too much for you to acknowledge him. “Y/n, breathe, okay? You have to take deep breaths and calm down, you’re safe-”

You kick the door open and you’re expelling any food you had left in your stomach on the curb.

He sighs, quickly unbuckling his seat-belt to, “I’ll call you back,”

“We brought her to the infirmary,” Yoongi paces outside of the room, “looks like the place was being ransacked when we got here, we don’t know who the culprit is but the most important thing is that she’s safe now. When the doctor thinks she can undergo questioning, I’ll head over.”

“Good. The other officers arrived not too long ago, a majority of them won’t talk but they’ll stay in holding until you get back,” Eunwoo pauses, “how’s she doing? Is she all there, are there any signs of abuse?”

Yoongi sighs, taking a seat on the bench. “Don’t know yet, she hasn’t talked much. I don’t know if we should do the questioning today but I’ll talk to her after the doctor talks to me,”

“Alright, let me know when you’re headed over.”

It smells so sterile, you want to throw up again but you settle for staring at the nurse who just finished bandaging the stitches. When she leaves, another woman comes in.

“Y/n, how are you feeling?” She adjusts her glasses, getting a little closer when you don’t respond. “Everything is happening so fast, yeah? I can’t say I know what you’ve been through, but I know you're probably overwhelmed.”

You nod.

“I won’t bombard you with a bunch of questions, I’m just here to make sure you’re physically okay. Your vitals are good but is there anything going on with your body that you might be concerned about?”

You shake your head no, not maintaining eye-contact by any means—she notes that.

“Okay, do you mind if I check to make sure everything's okay? I’ll need your consent to do a full-body exam and I’ll have a chaperone with me, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I 100% understand.” Again, you nod with a small yes when she asks for verbal confirmation. She puts on some gloves before instructing you to sit on the edge of the bed and she goes to get a young woman in sky-blue scrubs.

He’s been waiting for about an hour and he stands to his feet when the woman comes out of the room with a clipboard.

“How is she?”

She holds the clipboard to her chest with a sigh. “We finished the physical exam, and there are no signs of sexual abuse or physical abuse, she’s quite healthy considering. As far as her mental health goes, it’s hard to tell right now. She’s obviously really overwhelmed by everything, this is probably going to be a trauma that she lives with for a while, she’ll need a psychiatric evaluation. I know you’re apart of the investigation but if you want to question her, talk to her to see how she feels about it first.” She walks off to the nurse's station but turns to say one more thing.

“You know, I heard about her in the newspaper, her news publisher has a whole story on her. Thank God she’s alive, not all stories end so fortunately.”

Yoongi walks past her and into the room quietly, you look up at him and then down at your hands.

“Do you feel a little better?” He walks to your bedside, eyes drifting down to your bandaged leg.

“H-...How did you find me?...”

“We’ve been looking for you nonstop. Today we were finally able to track your cellphone, we only hoped you’d be at that location. It’s been 8 months since the day you were reported missing, and for 8 months I’ve made finding you my main priority.”

You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “It’s been 8 months?...”

“I know a lot is going on but we need some answers from you. I understand if you’re feeling up to it, but would you be able to come with me and answer some questions for us at the police station? If you don’t feel up to it then-”

“I’ll do it..” You answer too quickly.

Just like that, you’re at the police station sitting across from Yoongi and the officer over the investigation, officer Cha Eunwoo. They gave you a glass of water and you’ve chugged it down. You’re so jittery, your mind is everywhere.

“Y/n, do you know why you were kidnapped?” Eunwoo comes back with another cup of water and you watch him sit back down.

“I was told it was because of a politician who had it arranged that I be killed...

Yoongi writes something down and you swallow, wondering what he’s writing down.

“The house you were rescued from, is that where you’ve been living?”

“Yes...But-” You bite your lip, tears welling up in your eyes, “...I’m not hurt, the person I was with kept me safe, the man I was with, he's not the bad guy...”

The two of them look at each other puzzled, then at you. They question whether they heard that correctly.

“Who? Y/n,” Yoongi begins softly, “are you saying you were being protected?” You nod, pout ever so present on your lips. “Who was protecting you?”

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from saying his name, you shouldn’t say his name. They don’t know who he is yet, and maybe there’s a chance he’ll get out of this. As your mind reels, the two of them watch you, teary eyes laser-focused on the black bracelet on your wrist.

“Can you tell me who was with you in that house?” Yoongi asks again but you won’t look at him now. “Was it multiple people, or just that one person?”

You press your lips, nodding subtly. “It was multiple people?” You shake your head. “So it was just him,” He glances up from his notepad and you don’t indicate an answer, so he takes that as a yes, “did you ever leave the house?”

Eunwoo stands to his feet, stirring curiosity from you and Yoongi. “Min, can we have a word in private?”

Albeit confused, Yoongi nods, following the officer out into the other side of the two-way mirror where the other officers are.

“The hell? She was just giving us some good information.”

“Let me take this over, we have about a dozen people and we need to identify and interrogate all of them. But right now, we need the man who did this to her, that’s all.”

“She might not respond well to that, she’s obviously troubled, the pressure isn’t going to help.” Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eye. “I think she trusts me a little more, so I should finish this.”

“I’ve interrogated hundreds of victims before, I think I can handle this. You can step in if she gets irate.” Yoongi can already sense how there’s an obvious shift in your demeanor when you notice that Yoongi’s isn’t accompanying him.

“Y/n, what happened to you was not your fault, but the person who did it needs to be dealt with. You were kidnapped, held hostage against your will, and no matter what that person might have told you, there are people who care about you that have been looking for you. You’re a victim and the person who did this to you will not get away with it. The man who had you and multiple others killed is already in our custody, he stands trial tomorrow. Now, we just need to get the others. Can you help us do that?”

You look at the one-way mirror. “Where’s the other guy, Yoongi, why didn’t he come back?...”

He evades the question. “Did he ever tell you his name?” Eunwoo glances at the one-way mirror before softening his tone. “Y/n, do you know his name?”

You frown, looking down at the bracelet on your wrist. “Does my family know I’m here?...”

“Y/n, we are going to let your family know but you have to realize what’s going on here. Senator Leu, who is standing trial today, hired someone to have you killed, but they didn’t kill you and we need to know why. Is he threatening you?... Is that why you won’t tell us anything?”

You swallow, throat feeling incredibly dry, face heating up. You chug down the second glass of water, it only cooled you down for just a moment.

Yoongi watches with a trained eye. You having to talk to Eunwoo alone was not a good idea. Gathering that this interrogation is going to end pretty soon, he decides to go ahead and contact your family.

“I don’t feel well,” You blink slowly, handing going to your stomach, “can I get some more water?...”

“Sure,” He can’t deny you water, but he knows when someone is avoiding questions, “but before I get that, I need you to tell me who did this to you.”

You look at him and like a rehearsed scene, you queue the tears. The discomfort on Minho’s face indicates the foolish decision he made to interrogate you alone.

“Y/n,” He looks you over and wonders why you keep messing with the black bracelet on your wrist, “that’s a nice bracelet, is it yours?”

Wiping your tears, you scramble for an answer, “Yes, it’s-...It’s mine.”

“So, if we ran a DNA test on it, the only prints on it would be yours?... Or, was this bracelet given to you by someone, maybe by the man who had you all this time?”

You lower your head onto the table and cover your face with your arms, Yoongi presses his temples—you’re not budging, but Eunwoo insists. In the meantime, he decides to step in the hall and make a few calls to your job, family, and friends.

“Why does it matter!?” You snap, eyes burning red. “It’s mine and if you want it, you’ll have to pry it off of my dead body, I won’t let you take it off for anything, it has nothing to do with this...”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be, you know that, don’t you?” He reaches into his pocket and holds a fist in front if you.

“Remember this? Suzy said you wouldn’t be caught dead without it, but it was on the floor in your house. Is that bracelet just as special as this?” He opens his hand and there sits your favorite necklace, the one your parents gifted you years ago. As much as you love that necklace, this bracelet is just as special, it’s a piece of Taehyung.

You ball your fist, tears welling at your eyes, you don’t care. “Just leave me alone, I don’t wanna talk anymore...”

He sits on the uncomfortable steel bench, arms cuffed behind him. It’s dark, cold, and dreary, but the interior of this place is the least of his worries. He’s never been on this side of the bars, despite deserving it. The gate slides open suddenly, Taehyung can feel the guard's presence but he doesn’t bother looking up.

“Come with me.”

Without a word, he obliged, picking up his feet with heavy strides. The guard holds his arm tight, leading him through the halls to find interrogation room 12.

“Is interrogation room 12 open?” The guard talks to the officer standing at one of the many rooms lining the hall. The two of them strike up a conversation but Taehyung is listening to the conversation down the hall.

“She’s alright, I called her job and her mother, and Jin,” Yoongi paces, peeking down the hall to see the third culprit brought in for questioning, “there will be a lot of happy people when they find out she’s okay.”

“That’s great, I’m glad, I know the last case you had didn’t go this well,” Jungkook flips through the phony contracts that his recent client was given to sign, “I’m about to leave the firm so I’ll have to call you tomorrow, but if you need me to help with the case just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi bids him farewell and slips the phone in his pocket. The lawyer had helped a lot in the last missing person case Yoongi was involved in, the victim was in rough shape. It was a young woman kidnapped by an ex, it wasn’t a pretty outcome. The shape they found her in will always be ingrained in his memory, it haunts him that he couldn’t get to her sooner.

Yoongi walks down the hall and Taehyung watches him. He tries to do it in a subtle way, but that’s the man that carried you out of his home while he was being cuffed and pushed into the back of a cop car. Anger bubbled in his chest, the inability to call out to you, to take you into his arms, it hurt him to his core.

Yoongi spares him a glance before going back into the one-way mirrors viewing room and the door closes, preventing him from seeing inside any further. You’re a wreck. It only takes a few seconds for Yoongi to see you balling your eyes out as Eunwoo paces around you to barge in there to put a stop to it.

“I know you’re scared but you need to stop covering for that Man. You’re safe, he can’t hurt you now-”

“Hey,” Yoongi looks at him as if he’s grown a second head, he whispers, “stop, she’s completely shutting down. She needs to be physiologically evaluated before we finish this, look at her,” He gestures to you who’s trembling, breathing hitched with our inability to stop crying, “we can’t do this right now.”

He sighs, pulling Yoongi to a corner, “I’m sorry, I just, I hate to know that somebody did this to her and she won’t say anything, her Stockholm syndrome is on another level.”

“The owner of that house had to be the one who did it, just go to the research lab and they should be able to tell you. I’m taking her to the Melody’s Heart temporary safe house until her family can pick her up tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’m going to step out for a minute.” With that, Eunwoo leaves the room. it takes Yoongi talking you down for about 2 minutes to finally get you to stand up and walk with him. You sniffle, rubbing your eyes as Yoongi walks you out of the room and into the hall.

Taehyung is right there.

Your eyes widen and your gait slows, he’s right in front of you. Yet, the only thing connecting you is your gaze, this can’t be all there is left of your love. Yoongi leads you down the hall and you pull against him slightly. He notices your staring and that when the pieces come together. That’s him.

“Open room 12, officer Cha wants to have him interrogated separately.”

Taehyung watches you disappear, he can’t say anything and he can’t do anything. He gets pushed into the room and into a hard steel chair.

It’s sunset, they drove you about 20 minutes away somewhere, you weren't sure. A woman opened the front door to a huge house, and Yoongi opened your car door, helping you out with a hand. He walked by your side and went inside with you to sign some papers. The woman was kind, she had curly brown hair she was speaking to you with the softest tone. She kept saying you were strong, why was she saying that? With Yoongi lingering behind you, the woman that you know now as Melody takes you to a bedroom on the first level of the house. She said they prepared the room for you, there was even a change of clothes with toiletries on the bed.

“Can I get you anything, sweetheart? You’re our only resident tonight, so I’m all yours.” She’s nice but you don’t feel like company, you don’t feel like looking at any more new faces. You shake your head and she nods in understanding,

“Alright, then I’ll be here if you need anything, Mr. Min, I’m sorry but officers are actually not allowed in the bedrooms of the residents-”

“I’m not an officer, I helped with the case,” He turns to her so you can’t see his face and speaks lowly, “I just need to talk to her for a few minutes, I won’t be long.”

“Alright, just let me know when you’re headed out.” She leaves from standing in the doorway and cracks the door and she heads to the surveillance room that doubles as a bedroom for her.

“Do you want to bathe? I’ll leave if so and we can talk after.” You’ve kicked your shoes off, crawled to the edge of the queen size mattress and curled on your side facing the window. “So, I talked to your parents and they’ll be heading here tomorrow but Jin will probably be here first,”

”Jin?” You sit up, wondering why your ex-boyfriend has anything to do with this. “Why?...”

“He hired me to look for you, he’s the reason I got involved in your case.” Yoongi keeps a safe distance, the little camera hidden behind the plant reminds him of the high-security this place has. “Out of everyone, he called the most, almost every day to get updates about you.”

For a moment, you wonder if he has the correct Kim SeokJin. Because the last encounter you two had was so brief, it was a run-in at the grocery and you two talked about your jobs. It was really adult-like of you, you picked out potatoes as you picked up small-talk with an old flame. But there was no romantic love left, that boat had sailed a long time ago and your brief love for wine replaced it. He’s always cared about you, but you never thought he would be waiting for you.

“I have to go but I’ll be back in the morning, do you need anything before I go?” You shake your head, not wanting to be around him or anyone else any longer. It’s too much, it’s too much for you to handle all at one time and you just want to go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up, and this will all be a bad dream, and you’ll be in his arms. He said he would fix this, how is he going fix this?...

Yeosang waited for hours, he called Taehyung at least five times and he has yet to get a response. Something went wrong. In efforts to figure this out, he drove all the way from the meet-up spot to Tae’s house. He could tell the place had been intruded on, Tae never leaves his car outside of the garage at night. He pulls into the driveway, right beside the smokey black Audi R8. This isn’t like him to have gotten caught. The passports were ready, the new house was waiting, everything would have gone fine had the flight been earlier. He has to admit, he was looking forward to giving his good friends a chance at a happy life. He only met you once, but the way Tae talks about you, you two are clearly in love. If he knows Taehyung at all, he’ll receive a call in at least a few hours about what happened. He has to come out of this, that’s what Yeosang chants in his mind.

“So you own the house,” Eunwoo paces, coffee in flimsy Styrofoam cup as he takes a seat across from the culprit, “Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung acknowledges him with a disinterested glance before staring down at the steel table separating them. He wonders if you’re still in the building, they were taking you away, but where were they taking you? After he was cuffed, he saw Minho’s men get cuffed but Minho and Jimin were gone. If he knows Minho at all, he’ll be back.

“Don’t you hear me talking to you?” Minho hits the table, causing Taehyung to finally looking at him. “Look, for some reason your record is clean. But if we find out that you were involved in any of these murders and this kidnapping, you’re looking at a hefty sentence. Just admit it, you saw a pretty, successful girl living all alone and you thought, why not take her? Are you threatening her, is that why she won’t reveal you?”

“There’s not a scratch on her, does it look like I threatened her?” Taehyung speaks for the first time, the very insinuation that the nature of this kidnapping was to harm you made him sick.

“So, you did it then?” He affirms.

Taehyung shrugs, expression too nonchalant for Eunwoo’s liking. “You know what, wipe that smug look off your face-”

“Cha,” Jaemin opens the door without warning.

“What?” He snaps. “Don’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

“The chief wants to talk to you, he says it pertains to this case.”

With a resent glare at Taehyung, Eunwoo leaves the room with urgency. Jaemin, however, stays in the doorway, eyes fixated on the acclaimed Hwan Group member that he’s heard so much about from Minho. Kim Taehyung, his record is so clean, he doesn’t have so much as a parking violation on him. If he didn’t know who he was, Taehyung would fly under the radar in his book, he’s that convincing.

“What do you want?” Tae scrutinizes the man, eyes scanning him up and down.

“So you’re Kim Taehyung,” Jaemin closes the door with a soft click, “you really fucked this one up, it’s a shame too, Minho said you were the best. You ruined your record all for that woman-”

“Where did they take her?”

“That doesn’t really matter, let’s just hope Minho can work something out for you, he’s pissed right now,” He shakes his head in and ‘tsk, tsk’ way, “had you just done your job, you and that poor woman wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“She was crying when I saw her, what did they do to her?” He shifts in his chair. “Fucking answer me.”

“Look, stay quiet and you might get out of this alive, that’s all I can say,” And that’s all he says before quickly exiting the room, leaving Taehyung isolated in the cold room, head hung back against the chair. He’s tapping his foot, rhythmically, he’s jittery, anxious with thoughts about you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this when it’s so obvious that he’s got the least amount of control in this situation? Hold on Y/n, hold on.

Eunwoo rushes to the Chief's office and without a knock on the cracked door. he steps inside. He closes the door, “Chief, Jaemin said you wanted to see me?-...”

“Hello, Captain Cha.”

“Who are you? Where’s the Chief?“

“My name is Lee Minho, I’m sure you’ve heard my organization, the Hwan group. I know the chief and there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. The man you have in custody is a member and he’s only here because he made a mistake and my informant didn’t tell me who was on this case. You know of the Hwan group, the Chief has mentioned you and how you’ve dismissed some cases in compliance with the partnership we have.”

“This is really an HG case?” Minho nods. “The Chief never told me anything about dismissing this case. There were multiple murders and kidnapping, that’s not the typical HG favor.”

“That’s because the man assigned to the job often does high-profile jobs but stays under the radar. Unfortunately, he didn’t follow the instructions of the job. It was a multiple person execution but he had to go back and get that woman because he missed her. He led me to believe that she was dead but I found out recently that he’s been hiding her from me. I went to his house to confront him and here we are.”

“But the pardons I’ve made have never been for HG jobs that involved things like this. He murdered innocent people-”

“My organization has helped get rid of a lot of bad people and my people have worked in situations where cops just aren’t trained in. They get the job done if they chose to take it, no questions asked. Anyone who’s willing to pay can seek my group for help. They’re pawns, and Taehyung was one of my best. He takes a job and he does it, no sentiments attached. But for this woman, I don’t know,” He shakes his head at the thought, “he just couldn’t do it and that messed up everything, his reputation is screwed. Now I’m here trying to clean up his mess, a little. I’m sure you’ve spoken with our middleman, Na Jaemin, he was supposed to monitor this case to ensure things didn’t end up like this. But since it couldn’t be helped, I’m here to propose a deal.”

“Okay, what kind of deal? Because someone has to pay for this,” Eunwoo paces, “her disappearance has been televised and in the articles, she was a writer, people knew of her work from her publisher and they've been anticipating her return for months. We can’t just say she’s been found and then not give them any more than that. People will want to know where she’s been and who took her. Someone has to be held responsible other than Leu.”

“No, that’s not entirely true. We can arrange a cover story and Taehyung can be released to me.” He reasons. “And the girl stays free.”

“What about justice for her? She’s been-”

“Trust me, she’s not happy about this ‘rescue,’ it’s not what you think, she loves him.” Minho recalls the act of affection you two shared and how you pleaded to stay by his side, “I’m sure there are some psychological factors but at the end of the day, they are romantically involved, that’s probably why she’s so apprehensive to say anything, she doesn't want to say anything that might ruin her chances of seeing him again.”

“Woah...wait, I don’t think this is a consensual relationship if it were, why wouldn’t she say anything about is?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter at this point, here’s what needs to happen; I’ll take Taehyung back because he’s still under contract for a full year after this year ends, he has a job to do. In exchange, I’ll set up the cover story and the two of them can never make contact again, how does that sound?”

“Hm,” He takes a moment to consider the possibility of something going wrong, “them not making contact would put him in the clear and isolate her from any association with the group. That sounds foolproof but what if they don’t agree? If they’re together like you say, who’s to say she won’t rat on the group or he won’t try to find her anyway? I don’t see how we can get her to go back to her regular life.”

“She’ll never go back to her regular life, not really. I’ve known Kim for years, he’s not a monster but that doesn't change the fact that she was kidnapped, isolated from society for months and all she had was him. We’ll have to tell her what’s going on of course, but I doubt she’ll squeal if it means putting him in prison. They’ve said their goodbyes, it’s not a love story to be salvaged anyway. He doesn’t have a family he has very few friends and he has a ton of money, a huge house in a nice part of town, he’s got everything.”

“What if he refuses?”

Taehyung broke under the hand of a thing like you, the idea that he is emotionally impenetrable is long gone. Minho straightens the collar of his dress shirt and leaves the room to go deliver the news. “He doesn’t need her, his job doesn’t allow for distractions like her, and he knew that when he signed up; he’ll get over it.”

The door creaks and he expected it to be one of those officers, but Minho emerges with a guard who quickly walks over to take off the cuffs. Aside from the guard who just scurried out, Minho isn’t accompanied by anyone and he doesn’t look like he’s seen two seconds in a pair of handcuffs. He knew his boss had connections in high places but he never imagines it was to this extent.

“I am upset with you, Taehyung,” Minho circles around the chair, hands on the back of it, “you don’t know the strings I’ve had to pull to keep this quiet. What were you thinking? You knew the job, but you deliberately put your self in harm's way when you decided to hide her from me.”

“Had I told you she was alive, would you not have tried to kill her?” His tone bites.

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter what I would have done, you were supposed to do it.” He stresses. “I didn’t take the job Taehyung, you did.”

Tae diminishes a bit, the guilt of it all coming to the forefront of his mind. At the end of the day, no matter how many people actually wanted to harm you, he’s the one that signed up to do it. And it hurts, it hurts because he loves you, you love him and he doesn’t deserve if, but he wants it more than anything.

“Where is she?”

“I think they took her to some safe home, she got hurt but she got medical attention for her injuries. Now that she’s taken care of, I’m getting you out of here. I arranged a deal with the chief and it gets you out of this mess scotch free.”

“Okay...What’s the catch?” He knows there’s a catch, there always is.

“Your contract isn’t up, you have a little over a year left with the organization and despite how frustrated I am with you, you’re good at your job. You have to finish your contract.”

“And if I choose not to?” He asks daringly.

“If you choose not to, any immunity you have from the law because of the organization goes away, that will most likely land you in prison. But if you finish, your record stays clean.”

Tae doesn’t have to weigh his options to make a decision, but Minho hasn’t mentioned you. “What about Y/n? Will she be safe under this deal?”

“Of course, a cover-up story is arranged and she gets to go back to her everyday life,” He grins, “everyone's happy.”

A glimmer of hope comes to his eyes. “Then I can be with her, and no one will know about the kidnapping?”

“Oh, no. She’s staying here and you’re being transferred to the Europe division of the organization, you’ll reside in Bordeaux, France and travel throughout Europe for jobs. The deal is that you never see her again, it guarantees there can be no association between you two.”

“What? No, no...I can’t do that, I love her, she means everything to me. I won’t leave her, not without an explanation. We were gonna leave before you showed up, make a new life with all of this shit behind us,” His nose burns and he bites back a tear, “I-...I wanted to marry her one day, I can’t just leave her here.”

“You don’t have a choice, your flight leaves in the morning if you’re lucky they’ll let her out and you might be able to say goodbye one last time. Come on, we need to get out of here, you have to pack up. Do yourself a favor and try to forget about her, she’ll eventually do the same.”

This can’t be it, this can’t the end everything he’s built with you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this if he’s on the other side of the world? The thought of going to get you and running came to mind, but he can’t make you live like that, on the run like outlaws, he loves you too much. He has to fix this but you’ll have to wait. His heart aches, he knows you’re probably alone and confused. This is all my fault, this is my fault.

203 notes · View notes

malfoymania · 4 years ago

Text

LOYALTIES | 5 | D.M

masterlist

CHAPTER FIVE

LILY KINGLSEY

Classes the next day seem to drag. I can't stop thinking about what happened last night in the common room. How easily my hand went to Malfoy's face when I was in such a blind state of anger. I felt guilty.

"Lily, stop worrying about it. He got what he deserved" Hermione smiles, placing her hand on mine.

I told everyone what happened over breakfast. How I slapped Draco. It didn't come to much of a surprise apparently. Ron thought it was hilarious. Harry and Hermione saw the funny side too, but I can tell they both saw how much it bothered me.

"I'm not worrying about it." I reply, snapping out of my daydream and continuing to write my essay.

"Lily, you've been stuck in your head all day" She tells me, and she's not wrong. "What's really bothering you?"

I sigh, the sickening feeling throwing itself around my stomach yet again.

"I didn't hesitate to hurt him Hermione. That screams Slytherin." I admit with guilt evident in my voice.

"Yes it does, because you are Slytherin Lily. I know how much you hate it, but you're also just like your father. You want to help the right side, just like he did."

"My mum would hate me if she knew what I'd done" I say, still feeling ashamed.

"I think she'd be bloody damn proud." Hermione is quick to say. "We all know that her and Harry's mum were two of the quickest witted and strongest women at Hogwarts. She'd of done exactly the same thing, if not worse."

I smile at her words. She's right. According to my father my mum was just like me. She had a short temper and she said what she was thinking. I could listen to him talk about her all day. His eyes light up with such joy whenever he tells me about her. It makes me proud to be their daughter.

"Come on, we can finish this tomorrow. Go get out of your uniform and we'll find the boys." She smiles.

I head back to my dorm and try to bask in Hermione's words. As hard as I try to dominate my mothers Gryffindor traits, I always seem to let my darker side slip out, and since the start of this year it only seems to be happening more and more. I wish she was here to guide me.

When I get to my dorm I pull open the door and get ready to change as quickly as possible, but I jump out of my skin when I see a figure in the corner of the room.

"Merlin Malfoy! What the fuck are you doing in here?" I yelp, not expecting to see the blonde haired boy sat in my window.

"Waiting for you" he hums, looking more relaxed than ever.

"Get out of my room" I demand, pointing towards the door.

"It's not just your room. For all you know I could be waiting for one of your roommates." he shrugs, leaning further back into the window frame.

"You literally just said that you were waiting for me" I spit, crossing my arms. I don't have time for this crap.

"What's with the rocks on your window?" He asks, completely ignoring me and picking one up, twirling it between his fingers in the sunlight.

"They're crystals. They have different healing energies."

"What does the green one do?" he questions, picking up the crystal that's our house colour.

"It's supposed to get rid of headaches."

"Does it work?" He raises an eyebrow, looking over at me from the window.

"Clearly not. You're still here." I reply blandly, rubbing my hands across my face. Why is he here?

He's hopped down from his position on the window now, and he's making his way over to me slowly.

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" He says calmly. He doesn't seem angry or offended by my words. He just simply makes his statement.

"Yes, you've told me before." He's so close to me I have to look up at him now. I bet his height gives him an incredible ego boost. I've never once been nice to Draco. I've always been a dick towards him and I'm aware of it, but when I hear him call me those words out loud I can't help but let them sting slightly.

"Well stop. It makes you annoyingly attractive." He says lowly, his grey eyes not leaving mine. My stomach drops. What the fuck?

"I...I- Wh- what?" I stumble over my words but he doesn't seem to acknowledge it. Any other time he'd use this as an opportunity to pull me apart.

"You heard me Kingsley." He looks down now at my lips. His thumb reaches to them and swipes against my bottom lip, pulling it ever so slightly as his rough skin catches it.

I'm terrified. Not only by the position i'm in but by the fact that I haven't shoved him off me yet. I'm letting him touch me. I want him to touch me.

"Draco, what are you doing?"

"Don't call me that." He hisses, his thumb leaving my lip, but sliding it across so that his hand now cups my cheek.

"Why not?" I breathe.

"Because it makes me want to do this" he whispers, placing his lips on mine.

My stomach completely erupts with butterfly's. Never once did I imagine that this would be happening. His lips are soft. So soft. He pushes against me slightly, deepening the kiss. I do the same, annoyingly not wanting to stop either.

He tastes like mint. He smells expensive. He feels amazing. He is amazi-

"What the fuck are we doing?" I pull away quickly when I stop myself from thinking the unimaginable.

"Kissing?" He replies, looking slightly shocked by the fact that I just yanked myself away from him.

"Dra- Malfoy. This is crazy! I slapped you literally just last night for being an asshole, and now you kiss me?" I yell, getting angrier by the second.

"Yeah, that was uncalled for." He states dryly.

"No it wasn't. I will never let any man degrade me, let alone a boy like you" I laugh slightly, shocked by this conversation i'm having.

"I didn't degrade you."

"Are you kidding me? All you ever do is degrade me! And my friends. You think you're better than everyone else!" It's frustrating me all the more that he's so calm during all of this. I want him to bite back.

He doesn't respond this time. He just looks at me, and as hard as i'm trying, I cannot for the life of me tell what he's thinking. "Say something goddamn it!"

"What do you want me to say?" he asks with more force.

"I don't know! You always have something to say. Some stupid shit that makes me feel like crap" I yell.

"Oh yeah? We'll have you ever noticed that you're exactly the same?" He spits, his demeanour quickly becoming less relaxed.

"Well maybe you should fucking stay away from me then!" I throw my hands in the air, completely infuriated by this situation. By him.

"I can't Lily! No matter what I do you're always there!"

We're both full of anger; heaving chests and red faces. I hate the boy. I truly do, but all I can think about is kissing his stupid face.

Before I know it. I'm the one pushing him against the wall. Both my hands cupping his face.

Unlike before, my lips move forcefully against his. Draco doesn't react at first. He stumbles backwards in shock. When I notice that it's just my lips moving I begin to pull away, but before I can his hands go to my waist and pull me against him. He's kissing me back.

"Christ, what are you doing to me Lily?" He mutters when he gasps for air. Hearing him say my name like that doesn't fill me with anger like it did last night, it makes me feel giddy and special.

His eyes are filled with hunger and lust. Ron was right; there is plenty of sexual tension that's been pent up, and we're finally realising it. Finally releasing it.

When we eventually pull away we're a pair of heaving chests, messy hair and lustful teenagers. I don't look at him to begin with. I'm embarrassed. Ashamed that I let my guard down and pinned the boy who makes me furious against a wall and kissed him.

"That was- something" Draco breaths, looking down at me. I don't say anything. He places his hand under my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, i'm just confused" I say honestly.

"Me too. You drive me crazy Lily Kingsley, and I hate that." His eyes flicker between the two of mine. I've never known him to be so honest before, it's weird.

"Yeah well you do too." I say with a small smile. I watch as the corners of his lips tug upwards, making my heart swell. This isn't good. "I... I need to g-go."

I quickly remove myself from his embrace and grab my bag, ready to head out the door.

"You can't just leave" Draco laughs, clearly enjoying my panic.

"Yes I can. And you need to go too." I fluster.

"If you say so" he grins, straightening his collar. I stand and watch as he saunters to the door. "See you in class Kingsley."

And with that he's gone, and i'm left wondering what the hell just happened, and why i'm desperate for more.

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog! ♡

#draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco x you #draco smut #draco malfoy imagine #dracotok #draco #draco malfoy #harry potter #tom felton imagine #tom felton

37 notes · View notes

imagining-supernatural · 5 years ago

Text

The Fourth Check-In

Part 21 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You get more news from your doctor and you and Seb take some Buzzfeed quizzes

Word Count: 2,834

“You sure you wanna stop here?” Sean asked, pulling up to the store you’d asked him to detour to before dropping you off back at the apartment. “I remember you talking about how you don’t drink while you’re in treatment.”

Smiling, you patted his shoulder before opening the door. “It’s a one-time thing, Sean. And you can hold me to that. Seb’ll be home tomorrow morning and he can monitor me. Don’t worry about it.”

He wasn’t sold, but you left the car before he could argue more.

You were a realist. It was your biggest strength and your biggest failing.

And right now, it was the only part of yourself that you were listening to.

You had your scans yesterday, and today Dr. Chowdhury dropped the news that they weren’t as good as you’d been hoping. Tomorrow, you would begin the most intense round of treatment yet. It was your last resort. Tomorrow, your energy would be yanked away and you wouldn’t have any energy until 1) the treatment worked, you had your surgery, and you were cancer free, or 2) the treatment stopped working again and you died.

So tonight was the last night you had to feel like yourself.

And that called for getting wine-drunk.

Since Sebastian had taken you at your word when you first moved in that you didn’t want to drink while on treatment in order to stay as healthy as you could, he’d gotten rid of all alcohol in his apartment.

So, when you unlocked the door and let yourself in half an hour later, it was the first time in nearly two months that a drop of alcohol was in his place.

You had to climb on the counter to grab a wine glass from the top shelf of a cabinet, but the effort was worth it when you watched the pale pink wine splash into the crystal glass. You sure hoped it was a good wine, but after a glass or two, you knew you wouldn’t mind.

And, a glass or two (or four) later, you were correct.

You had a nice wine-drunk going on and had successfully forgotten all about your problems. At the moment, all that mattered was the Youtube playlist titled “Dance Pop Bangers” you’d found, the volume up loud, and the wine glass in your hand.

“Y/N?”

Sebastian’s voice startled you and you stumbled out of your dance for a moment.

“Hi!” Were you yelling? It was entirely possible. The music was way too loud, but you couldn’t be bothered. “What are you doing here? I thought your flight didn’t come in until, like, four in the fucking morning.”

Had you not been an entire bottle of wine into the night, you might have noticed how worried he became when his eyes fell on the empty bottle. As it was, you danced your way over to him and looped your arms around his neck.

His hand landed on your hip and he accepted your kiss on his cheek. “I caught an earlier flight. Are you drunk?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Bad scans. I’ll tell you in the morning, but short story is that I’m starting the really intense treatment in the morning and this is my last night with energy so… dance party. And wine drunk is my best drunk.”

“Bad scans?”

You offered him the last few sips of your wine and pouted up at him. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Can you just dance with me tonight? Please?”

God, those blue eyes… you were lost. It was Thanksgiving week and by god you were fucking thankful for his fucking eyes. Even as skeptical as he was right now, you were so fucking thankful.

“Seb?” You asked when he didn’t reply. “I need tonight. Please. I need to get drunk and pretend I don’t have cancer and just dance. Please?”

His eyes darted to the empty bottle on the coffee table and a grin took over his face. “I hope you got more than that one, because it looks like I have to catch up.”

Your smile lit your face and you couldn’t help but kiss his cheek again.

“God, I love you. Okay, I have another bottle in the fridge, but I only bought two because I thought you weren’t coming home and I needed make sure I stopped drinking. So you’re gonna have to fight me for it.”

“We can also order some for delivery, you know?”

You halted in your tracks to the fridge and snapped to face him. “What? You can do that here?”

He laughed. “Yeah, sweetheart. This isn’t Utah.”

“Holy shit, I love New York.”

“Fuck me,” you groaned when your alarm went off the next morning. “I forgot about the hangover.”

“Shhh,” Sebastian whispered, pulling you closer. “You’re too loud.”

“Babe, I gotta get up. I need to go to the hospital.”

“Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. I thought you had the rest of the week off.”

The reminder of the reason behind your hangover brought a dark cloud over your head. With a groan, you shrugged out of Seb’s arms and pushed off the bed. Your head was fuzzy with the hangover, but with all of your tumor-induced headaches over the past year, you barely thought anything of it. “The scans we ran on Monday weren’t good. The treatment stopped shrinking the tumor again. Well, not stopped entirely, I guess. It just is slowing down again and Dr. Chowdhury wants to get ahead of this so we’re moving onto the round of treatment he wanted to a few weeks ago. I won’t have to go in tomorrow, since it’s Thanksgiving, but other than that… it’s six days a week til this sucker shrinks enough to take it out. I’m gonna be so fucking sick of that hospital.”

There was warmth at your back moments before Sebastian’s arms circled you. “You’re rambling again, sweetheart.”

“That’s cause I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible. Saying the words aloud made everything suddenly seem so real. “This is it. If this doesn’t work…”

“It’s gonna work.”

“Seb, I—”

“It is going to work,” he repeated forcefully, tightening his hold on you. “You’ve planned for every outcome. You have everything in order if it doesn’t work. There isn’t anything left you can do to change the outcome. So ignore that part of your brain that wants to calculate your odds and that wants to plan for the most likely outcome and just focus on the outcome you want. Baby, you said yourself that treatment is seventy percent attitude.”

You weren’t aware that you were crying until you licked your lips and tasted salt. “I asked Dr. Chowdhury what my chances were. Yesterday when he broke the news, I asked how likely it was that my tumor would shrink enough to take it out.”

“And he gave you some answer based off of science and statistics. I don’t know if you’ve really been listening to Jasmin, but your odds from the universe are astronomically high.”

A humorless laugh escaped your lips and you leaned back against him. “Well, my statistical chance is less than ten percent now.”

“And your universal odds are a hundred and ten percent.” He kissed your cheek before pushing you towards the bathroom. “Grab a shower. I’ll have a hangover cure breakfast ready when you’re done. Then we can head to the hospital.”

“You saying I stink?”

“I’m saying your attitude stinks.”

You glared at him before giving in and heading to the bathroom. As soon as you were under the warm spray of water, you let your mind wander.

Sebastian was right. Your attitude sucked. Sure, your body was trying to kill you, but that didn’t mean that you had to give in. Not when you had a chance.

Two months ago, you had accepted your fate. You’d turned down a twenty percent chance, and now you were in treatment with a less than ten percent chance. Maybe Sebastian was right about this too. Maybe it was time to ignore the stats and focus on the outcome you wanted.

You wanted to live.

That much you knew for sure.

And afterward? You were supposed to get a divorce. That was the deal, right? It’s what you both signed up for.

But… it wasn’t what you wanted.

Sebastian.

You wanted Sebastian. As more than just a friend or-or-or whatever it was you two had going on right now.

“Just the Way You Are, We R Who We R, Like a G6, OMG, California Gurls, or Rude Boy?” Sebastian asked while you were at the hospital.

“Kesha. Duh. What’s this quiz?”

He didn’t answer, just kept on. “Hold it Against Me, Moves Like Jagger, We Found Love, Party Rock Anthem, Rolling in the Deep, or Born This Way.”

“Hmm… Born This Way.”

He continued this way until you finished the quiz. “According to Buzzfeed, you haven’t peaked yet.” He grinned brightly at you. “See? This treatment’s gonna work. You still need to peak.”

“What the hell kind of quiz was that?”

“Uh, the songs you picked from the 2010s told Buzzfeed which year you peaked.”

“Ah, well, we all know that Buzzfeed quizzes are the modern-day Oracle of Delphi.” You pulled out your phone to find a quiz of your own. “Okay, Seb. Come over here. You have to pick which picture of these foods looks best.”

“What will this quiz tell me about myself?”

You grinned. “It’s a secret. Now, which crepe looks best?”

After a few minutes of joking about the various deserts in the quiz, you got to the end and laughed out loud. “I think you need to talk to your casting directors because, baby, you should have been Black Widow.”

“I could never pull off those stunts.”

“I’d kill to see you try.”

He rolled his eyes and clicked around on his phone before pulling up another quiz. You didn’t trust the spark in his eye when he landed on one. “Not to be dramatic, but your result to this quiz will define our entire relationship from this point forward.”

“Not to be dramatic,” you mocked. “Then he goes off and is all dramatic. Alright, fine. What’s the first question?”

“Would you rather spend the rest of your life with a sailboat or an RV as your home?”

“RV.”

“Would you rather be the first person to explore a new planet or bet he inventor of a drug that cures a deadly disease?”

“Cure. Definitely.”

You continued on until you answered the last question. A grin overtook his face and he sat back. “Well, well, well…”

“What? What’d I get? What was the quiz?”

He tossed handed you his phone and you saw a picture of him on the screen. “Sebastian Stan,” you read aloud. “You’re more of the quiet type and need to find the right person to be totally comfortable with, which is why Sebastian is the perfect guy for you. You two are both adorkable and appreciate the little things in life. Who were my other options? The entire Marvel cast?”

“Nah, it was just me and Anthony.”

“Oooh, imagine how tense set would be on Monday if I’d gotten Anthony.”

“Not a chance, darling. You and I are far too adorkable.”

“Fucking Buzzfeed,” you laughed.

“You telling me you don’t find me adorkable?”

“I think you’re a dork. Does that count?”

He just laughed and toyed around with his phone for a moment. “You sure you’re fine with our plans tomorrow?”

“Of course. You said Heather said there’s a spare room if I need to lay down. And I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving usually, so I’m not missing out on any of my usual traditions. ‘Sides, it’ll be good to be around other people.”

Sebastian twisted his wedding ring around his finger a few times before looking up at you. The mood instantly sobered in the room. “You’ve mentioned that a few times. That you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah,” you murmured. You supposed Sebastian deserved an explanation. Not that it would change anything, of course. “Uh, growing up my family didn’t have the money for a big meal like that. And if we did, my dad would drink it all away anyway. Then he died in November. And then my mom died in November a few years later as well. Then Eliza, my sister, got arrested two years later in November and I guess I just never really felt very thankful considering everyone in my hometown wouldn’t shut up and blamed me for everything and I just always hated November.”

“Sweetheart, you should have told me sooner.” Sebastian shifted to sit on the arm of your chair. “You know I could have, I don’t know, done something to make this month better. Now it’s almost over.”

You grabbed his hand in yours and smiled up at him. “You did, Seb. By this time last year, I had yelled at Jasmin probably ten times. Like, actually screaming at her. And I didn’t even know I had cancer then. It was just all of the memories fucking with me.”

“So what did I do this year that helped? I figure I should know so I can do it again next year.”

Your heart skipped. By this time next year, if the surgery went well, you should be mostly fully recovered. You should be able to at least finish recovery back in Utah. If he was insinuating that you’d still be around…

“You just gave me a lot of good memories to think about at night, instead of the bad ones. I mean, I’ve dreamt of going to the Met, and you gave me two whole weekends there. You put up with me reading every single plaque. You, uh.” You glanced away with a shy smile. “You made me laugh every damn day with stories about what pranks got pulled on set and I don’t think even Jasmin has hugged me as much as you have.”

“Jasmin was around you every day,” Seb shrugged. “I only get two days a week with you. Gotta make up for lost time.”

Even though you’d been... whatever you’d been since that first kiss in the elevator for a month, you still had to force yourself to ignore that part of you that wanted to be invisible and make yourself flirt with him like you truly wanted So, you took a breath and turned your face up to his. “You saying if you were around me more than just two days you wouldn’t hug me as much? Or kiss me?”

And your flirting paid off when Sebastian got that spark in his eye. With his arm planted on the back of the back of the recliner, he leaned down until his face was mere centimeters from yours. “Course not, sweetheart. I’d probably just kiss you more.”

“That so?”

“Mmhmm.” Just as his lips brushed yours, there was a knock on the door and it started opening. Sebastian grimaced and pulled back, muttering a soft, “Dammit.”

“Good afternoon,” Dr. Chowdhury greeted as he walked in. “Ah, Sebastian. It has been a while since I have seen you. I hope all is well.”

“No complaints here.”

“Good, good. Well, I wanted to check in on you before you left, Y/N.”

“I’m fine. Though I’m sure my answer will change by tomorrow. Will my infusions take this long every time now?”

He nodded. “And with the aggressive cocktail, I would expect that your body will take at least a month to adjust.”

This time it was you who nodded. He’d told you all of this yesterday.

“I also wanted to ask you about your plans for tomorrow. I do not think I need to warn you about your weak immune system.”

Sebastian dropped his arm from the back of the recliner to your shoulders and squeezed. “A few of my friends are hosting a dinner tomorrow. It won’t be too crowded.”

“And I will make sure to listen to my body and go lay down before I need to. I’ve been through this before, Doctor. I know the risks and I know how to manage them.”

Dr. Chowdhury inclined his head and regarded you for a moment. “I was concerned yesterday,” he said slowly, “When you asked what your chance at making it to surgery was. I just wanted to check in and make sure you are still fighting as much as you were when I told you over seventy percent.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. The reminder at how far your odds had fallen still stung. “Yeah, no. It’s, uh… I get it. Trust me, I get it. But I’m here and I’m putting my all into this. Uh, my odds statistically speaking might not be that great, but this guy here…” You nudged Seb and grinned up at him briefly before turning your attention back to Dr. Chowdhury. “He keeps reminding me that my universal odds are out of this world. So… those are the odds I’m backing.”

Drunken dancing and buzzfeed quizzes, what more can you ask for? Also, did you catch the reader’s little slipup that I snuck in there?? Huh????

CHAPTER 22: THE THANKSGIVING PARTY

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x reader fluff #marvel fanfic

116 notes · View notes

werezmastarbucks · 5 years ago

Text

guest

the reader opens up to her boyfriend about the demonic intruder haunting her at nights

tyler joseph x reader x kai parker

genre: horror

warnings: stalking

word count: 2950

music: ode to sleep by twenty one pilots, o come o come by tyler joseph

At night you put the drawer to the door and put your lava lamp on top. You fell asleep every time looking at the changing neon soft lights, to get woken up at three exactly, to the sound of his fists drumming on the door. Every night.

He’d come from the corridor, a tall shadow, as you once saw him, not in a hurry at all. He knew you wouldn’t run anywhere, not even through the window, because you were always afraid of getting too far out of it.

He’d walk down the corridor and to the door, and try to open it. Once he succeeded, and was inside your room, and you woke up, to see the silhouette standing above you. In the dark of night, he looked completely black. His eyes were vaguely glowing, and you were completely cemented in your place. People are generally divided into two groups when scared: those who scream, and those who freeze. There’s a legend that there’s also a thin layer in between, a group of people who fight, but you’ve never met one. The closest to that was your boyfriend.

You never told Tyler about the ghost hunting your house. You were scared to seem nuts; you had no proof and hasn’t caught it once, largely because the ghost was trying to catch you.

At school, you weren’t really the people’s favorite, so you just got through moderately peacefully by sticking with your best friend and your boyfriend.

What would you say anyway? Hey, Tyler. There’s this dude, he started manifesting himself at my house at nights. He’s invisible to everybody except me, and he always appears in the middle of the corridor, and walks to my room, and I don’t know what he wants to do with me, but he scares the shit out of me.

You were afraid he’d think you got some issues, and find someone better.

There wasn’t much you could do except put the drawer close to the door, and make it heavy, piling all your tings on top, and turn on the lava lamp to see when he comes.

Sometimes you thought it was all your imagination. You’ve heard that urban legend about a girl who thought her house was haunted. The things disappeared, and she heard voces constantly bothering her day and night. She saw shadow people lurking outside, trying to break inside the house, and one of them actually smothered her dog; when she realized she’s the only one seeing all of them, she took it upon herself to protect her family. That girl had a little sister, too, and didn’t want any harm to come upon her. Maybe she was a witch, or just had this thing that some people have. The kind of sensitivity for supernatural things. She was the only one who could defend her loved ones.

She got armed with a kitchen knife and attacked them the next time they tried to get inside. Strike, before they make a move. The girl allegedly spent a tough long afternoon chasing ghosts around her front yard, and killed all of them. To then discover they were, in fact, her family, and she’s been hallucinating the whole time.

That’s the kind of stories that were floating around in the town. No one would really believe you if you told what’s happening. Although your case was slightly different from that poor girl’s. The black shadow guy coming for you almost every night seemed to only have interest in you. It was like he was uncertain yet; that one time he actually got inside the room, he vanished, as you lay there, paralyzed by fear. You never managed to get rid of the sight of him, disproportionally tall, completely silent, watching you in bed. He seemed like he was about to bow, but you opening your eyes made him change his mind.

Other nights he was more persistent and you bet he regretted not having acted while he had a chance.

Usually he wouldn’t get past the door barricaded by the drawer.

You’d look at the lava lamp sending her orange, red, green and infernal blue light across the room, like it was a safe beacon of protective fire; as if it could actually stop him. While he hammered his fists on the door, pulling and twisting the handle, you held the blanket with your numb fingers. You were never religious so you never prayed. You had a strong feeling he wasn’t afraid of Jesus.

The worst thing was seeing the drawer move and wiggle when he pushed the door with his shoulder. Once, the lava lamp nearly tipped over, and you moaned with fear. Nobody heard anything in the morning, and that one time you screamed, unable to hold it inside anymore, you got in a big row with your parents.

Tyler took your fist and tried to undo it, to interlace his fingers with yours.

It was that hour after school when you’re not ready to go home yet, and the street seems gray even in the middle of the afternoon, and everybody looks like zombies.

Maybe I am going crazy after all. Thinking about stuff like that, and listening to depressing music, all those things at school weighing on you, made you feel like you were tied to the house, because the demon boy was there. You were afraid he’d do something to your family, too.

“You don’t seem like yourself these days”, Tyler complained, but his voice sounded pondering, as usual. He was a philosopher, this guy, always analyzing stuff and the words people say, reading into them.

“I don’t sleep well”, you said, putting your head on his shoulder. His soft black hoodie was warm even on the outside. His baggy clothes, his hands, like the lava lamp, seemed such a safe territory. You were scared he’d take it all away if you told him.

“Why?”

You knew Tyler had insomnia, too. He was suffering from regular headaches, turning into prolonged migraine, that started on the top of his head and cralwed down to the very base of his neck. You suspected he had some kind of injury he never spoke about. He did double work; taking care of you and fighting his own pain all the time. You knew it hurts even during the day. You read him when he suddenly put his head into his hands or stopped talking in the middle of the sentence. His silence was soft and dignified. He carried it well. You wished you could help him somehow. Sometimes he’d look so sad, such deep regret in his eyes, that you’d think it was something more serious that he let out.

Now you just needed him.

“I don’t know”, you shrugged.

“Huh. Doesn’t seem true”.

You hid a little guilty smile in the fold of his hoodie sleeve. Your arms vined around his shoulder, and you two watched the playground for some time, silently.

“Is something happening, Y/N?” he asked.

You felt bad.

“I don’t know”, you muttered again, like a dummy. “I’m sorry”.

You kissed his cheek as he tried to read you with his dark eyes. His ears caught your soft whisper.

I love you.

You heard the footsteps and rolled onto your back. Your elbows started hurting almost instantly as you tried to lift yourself up. Sleeping with the lava lamp on, you ruined your dreams completely, and you were sure the sleep wasn’t as healthy as it was supposed to be. You were dozing instead of sleeping, waking up every five minutes, horrible visions floating around.

You knew what came next. He stopped at the door, and for the hundreth time, you couldn’t believe it’s happening. How, in the rational boring world, do you get to have a night intruder vanishing in thin air, getting out of the darkness of your house like a vampire; why you?

The soft knock on the door didn’t, and wouldn’t wake your parents up. You were glad you didn’t have any pets; you didn’t want to imagine what he’d do to a dog barking at him.

Your heart pounding, you sat yourself, back to the wall, feeling the glossy smooth surface of a poster with your bare shoulder. Your own hand snaked up to your neck, holding the whimper inside the throat.

He knocked again, mockingly polite, as always. He never said a word, like he didn’t have a voice, which was way scarier.

Knock knock knock still sent a very clear mesage: let me in.

You just wished you’d get through your night routine as usual, and he’d leave again. You felt exhausted, old, thinking, you were slowly getting used to being haunted.

Suddenly, a hammering knock shuddered the door, and you jumped. The back of your neck started sweating. The lava lamp changed from orange to purple, the color you hated because it was too dark for the night. The people on your posters, smiling indifferently at you, they had no idea. They wouldn’t help.

Bang bang bang!

His hand was heavy. He was hitting the door like he was a drumming machine, at the fast pace as if trying to drive you crazy. The door stood, loyal and hard, but when he started colliding with it with his shoulder, it shook like carton.

Suddenly, the thing happened that hasn’t occurred before, and you put the hands to your mouth, feeling the blood pump in your ears.

The drawer actually moved.

He is getting stronger.

The lock clicked, and the door opened half an inch. Lava lamp tipped and fell on its side, banging on the wood, and you closed your eyes for a second.

You held your breath. The demon boy stopped. All of a sudden, there was whistling silence, and you heard the night wind outside. The narrow black line between the door and the wall was sucking the light out, the blackest you’ve ever seen, like space vaccum. Magnetizing your gaze.

You couldn’t sleep like that. The crack was big enough for him to watch you.

You crawled out of bed and listened again: nothing. Perhaps he exhausted himself opening the door. It seemed like he only had so much energy for one night.

Your knees were shaking violently as you stepped to the drawer and put the lamp back up. The jelly soft bubbles were drifting inside, like soulless clouds, casting neon colors on your face.

You reached for the door to push it back closed, having no desire to look into the crack... as your fingers touched the wood, a violent push crashed on it, moving the door and the drawer together. You jumped away, unable to hold a yell.

He was getting inside.

You crashed into the opposite wall. The drawer now stood almost sideways, and door was open wide enough for him to slither inside.

“Go away”, you begged.

“But I love you”, a voice said.

Your knees gave in, and you slid down on the floor, grouping so hard you could come off as a big cat. Your arms wrapped around your legs. He sounded hollow, alien, as if he was standing far away, wrapped in a plastic bag. The door moved a little, and he showed his head inside the room. Seeing him, a human looking guy, was so catastrophically sobering that your mind went numb.

He didn’t have horns or black eyes, or sharp teeth of a monster. His face wasn’t distorted or disfigured; he looked like a usual boy. Only, there was this predatory hungry look about him. Sadistic smirk curled his lips when he looked at you sitting on the floor.

“Go away”, you asked again. He cocked his head, mockery in his eyes.

“That’s a pretty lamp”.

He moved so sharply you jumped again, throwing yourself into another corner of the room, like a cat that doesn’t think at all. Your joints were burning, working to escape, but there was nowhere to run.

He held onto the door, and with the other hand, he snatched the lava lamp from the drawer. You didn’t look, pressing your face into the wall, but there was a characterisical click, and the room went dark.

He stole your lava lamp and stole your beacon light.

The walls of his house were stiff and reliable. You liked to be in Tyler’s room because of all the things connected to him. You appreciated his constant musing; some people even said he was a bit slow sometimes. Tyler was a bit sad. But the saddest people are the most precious when you make them smile, and you made Tyler smile a lot.

He was funny when he swung his baseball bat, pretending to be a bad boy, about to smash some heads. He had a quirky sense of humor that always entertained you in a way that stuck with you. He was special, and he was good, and you were completely fine with others not getting him.

You were looking at the baseball bat put against the wall next to the book case.

Tyler came into the room with the towel on his head, rubbing hard his short soft hair, and then threw in right onto the bed. You stood up, sighing, and tried to find a place to hang it.

“You’re messy”, you noted. Tyler puffed, disinterested.

“You okay? You never get up so early on a Saturday”.

“Uh-huh”.

“What did you wanna talk about?”

There was hope in his voice; obviousy. He wasn’t fooled by all the badly masked secrets you kept. Like an owl, he watched you closely, but never intruded, probably, trained well by his folks: he knew how much it sucks when someone is trying to get under your skin. Even his mom thought he was weird, while he was simply sanguine; so she bugged him constantly.

He patted the bed next to him, inviting you. You liked to sit close so that your thighs touched, you connected to him.

“I need to tell you about what’s going on in my house”.

Tyler was quiet.

“There’s someone... uh”.

Anything you’d say, it would come out fucking stupid. Like in a movie.

“There’s this person who comes to my house at nights and tries to get into my room. I’m the only one who can see him. At first I thought I was sick, but last night, Tyler, he took something from my room, and it isn’t there. I think he exists”.

His face hardened. Tyler changed; the expression of his usually kind demeanor was something you’ve never seen before. It was hostile, and for a moment, he felt very distant.

“What does he look like?” he asked, his voice low.

You were taken aback by his question. No ‘are you sure’, no ‘you mean like a ghost?’, no ‘is this a joke?’.

His arm went up your shoulder, and he hugged you, bringing you close as if to keep this conversation quiet and between you. You were getting a strange sensation.

“Y/N, what does he look like?”

“Like a boy. A usual, teenage boy. You believe me?”

“You should see yourself nowadays. You look tired and horrified”.

Tyler never called you ‘honey’, or ‘baby’. His ‘you’s said much more than that. Sometimes they communicated way more tenderness than any nickname.

“You spoke quietly, and then he said he’d stay with you for the night. He got very upset you didn’t tell earlier. His frustration at it seemed very deep; like something made him profoundly uncomfortable. You’ve also never seen peaceful, quiet Tyler so menacing.

He took the baseball bat with him.

“Shithead!”

A sound of broken glass pulled you out of sleep, vivid and simultaneously, ghostly. You couldn’t tell if you dreamt it or not.

The room was dark; without the lamp there was no way of telling who else was in here. You searched for Tyler next to you, and he wasn’t in bed. The sheets were stil warm, and you had a sensation of his skin under your hand.

You sat in your bed, dizzy. As your eyes got used to the dark, you finally realized the drawer is moved away from the door.

There was something happening in the upstairs bathroom.

You jumped off the bed. You couldn’t lose him. Tyler was yours.

You went to the door and opened it wide, stepping into the darkness. Few feet away, the narrow line of light was indicating someone was in the bathroom. Okay, maybe Tyler just knocked something over because he’s sleepy.

“Come here!”

His voice was hissing like a snake. He was whispering, but it sounded like the rain noise. Something bumped against the door, like there was a swift fight.

“Tyler!” you called.

Silence. Then, a sudden burst of laughter of that hollow, distant voice again. Your feet carried you on, and you pulled the handle, opening the door. Laughter rang in your ears, fading away in the depth of the house and your own brain. For a second, you were blinded and frightened by the light.

Your lava lamp sat on the edge of the bathroom sink, and Tyler was holding onto it, panting, his back humped like he’s been trying to outpower someone. But there was no one else.

His neck was covered in black, something that looked like blood, or oil, but was complete, vanta color, and it moved, as if darkness was consuming, coming up to his chin. Tyler’s jaws pressed together, and then he turned and looked at you - with the eyes of a stranger instead of his own. Like there was somebody else inside.

#tyler joseph #kai parker #blurryface #tyler joseph imagine #kai parker imagine #twenty one pilots imagine #tvd #kai parker x reader

41 notes · View notes

msbluebell · 6 years ago

Note

Hey! How about a Captured AU where Byleth, before all this, had a thing with Dimitri and is pregnant by the time she is brought to Enbarr? 💔

Oh boy.

This one is going to hurt, isn’t it? There’s no way it’s not. There’s no way not to hurt in this one. I’m sorry guys, but melmcshane is the one that did this to you all. I’m merely writing these scenarios in the most logical/in character way I know how. I didn’t do this!

Before we get into what happens if Byleth is pregnant during captivity, we need to figure out how this would happen. Now, it’s no secret that I’m against student/teacher while the student is in school, and Dimitri is only 17 when he’s in school which is iffy as shit to me. I may have projected that onto Byleth as well, y’know, just wanting to keep the power dynamics at balance. It’s very clear to me that Dimitri and Byleth do fall in love over the course of the school year, but I imagine one of the things holding them back is the fact that Byleth is Dimitri’s teacher and Dimitri is the prince of Faerghus.

So the affair would have had to happen late in the year. Both biologically and personally speaking. I mean, Byleth would have had to be in the extremely early stages of pregnancy to go into the battle without noticeable changes, especially considering her default clothes shows off here naval. She would have had to be in the first trimester, which gives us a three month interval.Now, Dimitri was on a downward spiral during that interval, but there’s a certain point I think we can pin when this affair would have happened. Now, I’m going to go ahead and say it didn’t happen post-reveal because Dimitri was not okay and I doubt he nor Byleth would have indulged in such an intimate moment at that time. It would have been iffy at best, and I don’t think either one of them would have been emotionally able to

If I had to take a guess when they’d indulge in such a moment, I think I would put my bets on the night before visiting the holy tomb actually.

Logically speaking, I think that’s the best bet. If Byleth and Dimitri have harbored feelings for one another that they’ve been holding back based on the fact that Byleth is his teacher, then I think that this is the time that issues would seem most irrelevant to either of them. Not only does this take place after one of the moments that I have speculated either of them could have realized they’ve fallen in love in the game, but this is also a critical moment where they don’t know what will happen. Neither of them know what will happen when Byleth receives the revelation, and even if Byleth is expecting nothing based on what she knows about what happened to Sothis that no one else does, there’s no guarantee that she will not come out of this unchanged, or perhaps even replaced/overwritten by Sothis.

So, maybe the night before the ritual Dimitri comes to check on Byleth, or maybe it’s the other way around considering he mentions that he hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Either way, they’re both worried about the other, and they don’t know what will happen, or what the future holds, and this might be their last chance to tell each other about their feelings. Maybe it started out innocent enough, with some mutually reassuring words, mutual attempts at comfort, and then it got more heavy from there. Comfort somehow became admitting they don’t wanna lose each other, which somehow became a kiss, which lead to them forgetting everything outside that moment and just focusing on each other, which lead to that night.

It was a thing of passion and comfort, because they’re scared everything will change and they’ll lose each other and then may be the first and last time the get this.

They’re…not wrong.

After the holy tomb there were more important things to focus on. Dimitri’s mental health has rapidly declined, and there’s a war marching toward them, and things have gone to hell. So there’s no time to talk about what happened, not yet, right now they need to focus. They can talk later, if they survive.

Maybe they did say something before battle, maybe they promised that after they would talk. Who knows. In any case, the battle goes as it does in the game, with Edelgard’s forces taking Garreg Mach and basically destroying it, and Byleth falling off that cliff.

So, when Byleth fell off that cliff she would have been about two months into her pregnancy. That’s early enough both to not be showing and for the baby to possibly survive the fall with their mother so long as Byleth didn’t land on her stomach or anything. So, for the sake of the prompt, I’m going to say that the baby got lucky here and the force of impact didn’t do much to disrupt the pregnancy. Now Byleth is in a coma, and pregnant, and the Imperial troops probably find her.Now, I’m going to assume some field medics are on the case, but I doubt they’re going to be looking for signs of pregnancy in a soldier, especially one that survived falling from a cliff, so they don’t realize right away and keep Byleth put under for the trip to Enbarr like in the original Captured Post. They put her in the tower, lock her up, and things continue as it was in my original AU.

Except that, of course, things have to change if Byleth is pregnant.

Now, I’m going off the assumption Byleth didn’t realize she was pregnant at first. Observant as she is, I doubt that the possibility of pregnancy was the first thing on her mind at all during the last month or two. If she noticed she missed her period than she probably assumed she was irregular because of stress and anxiety or something.

Three months into the pregnancy though? She’s going to start showing a bit.

Now, three months is the end of the first trimester, so she’s starting to show more than a little bump. During the second month she could brush off a little bump as some weight gain, maybe, but three months in and it’s becomes a little difficult to mistake a swell for extra fat tissue. By this time she will miss her third period in a row, and would start showing more noticeable symptoms. Morning sickness would definitely be an issue, a heightened sense of smell as well as fatigue, much more frequent urination, breathlessness, headaches, mood swings, frequent changes in libido, and of course, breast swelling.

Yeah, pregnant ladies deal with a lot of bullshit, and being trapped in a tower shouldn’t be one of them.

Now, Byleth isn’t stupid. That said, I can see her being in denial at first. She’s already trapped here, she can’t be pregnant on top of that! She probably denies it for as long as she can.

But no one else is stupid either, and she has people watching her for signs of health risks and such. They probably notice something is up right away and have healers sent in. And even if Byleth somehow denied them the chance to check her, it would become very obvious to everyone very fast that she’s pregnant.

Can you imagine how horrified some of the Black Eagles student’s would be to realized they locked up their pregnant professor in a tower?

So they find out she’s pregnant. I imagine that, at first, Edelgard isn’t too happy with the news. There’s probably a lot of debate over who the father could even be, because I doubt that Byleth would share that particular information. Some of the more observant students, like Hubert, could venture a guess that it was Dimitri, but there’s no solid evidence yet. There’s probably a lot of debate about what to do about the professor, specifically what to do about the child. Some might have even been in favor of, y’know, easing up on the captivity (Dorothea), or at least putting her under house arrest as an alternative (Ferdie), just anything to ease up on a pregnant woman. Someone may have suggested…”accidentally” inducing a miscarriage (which I think would be a last fucking straw for a lot of the students, not going to lie, you can only justify so much awful shit in the name of safety) which got very quickly eliminated from the ideas. Either way, it’s considered an unresolved issue…at first.

Byleth, herself, would be stuck on what to do. She’s not stupid, she knows that if she has this child then they’re probably going to take them, or kill them, or…something. Worst case scenario they grow up trapped in this room for all their life and never see the outside. Or Edelgard takes them as fills their head with nonsense. Or…or…

She can’t see a good way for this to end. The best she can hope for is a rescue, or to escape while she’s still early. But security will have been doubled by this, and she doubts she can escape with a baby in her arms. Risking herself is one thing, risking an innocent baby is another. But staying doesn’t seem any better.

Byleth may even also legitimately be considering somehow aborting the child herself out of sheer desperation. It’s not that she doesn’t want the babe, she just legitimately can’t see a way to save them.

Let’s say that there’s no chance to get rid of the baby though, what happens?

I can see Edelgard being resentful…at first. But the longer the pregnancy goes on, the softer her feelings for the idea becomes. She might never have a child of her own, after all, there’s no certainty, and the idea of raising the babe as her own family has appeal.

Byleth would swell, of course, and go through the turmoils of pregnancy without the father. I wonder if Byleth would ever rub her belly and think about Dimitri? I wonder if she would wonder if he’s alive? I wonder if she sings to the babe? Or tells it stories? Babies are supposed to be able to sense that stuff in the womb, right? That’s what the stories say. So she probably tells them about their father when she’s all alone. She probably tells them about their grandfather too, and the mercenaries, and Garreg Mach, and what little she knows about Faerghus. I wonder if she knows any lullabies? I wonder if she has to make some up? I wonder if she tells them about the Blue Lions, about kind Ashe, and gentle Mercedes, and loyal Dedue, and clever Sylvain, and responsible Ingrid, and fierce Felix, and loving Dimitri.

I wonder if she agonizes over the names. I wonder if she wishes Dimitri was there to help her. I wonder if she rubs her belly and tries to imagine what kind of names Dimitri would have liked, what kind would fit Faerghus.

Her child deserves to grow up knowing these people, knowing their home, but instead they’re going to know round walls and windowless rooms.

I wonder if she gives birth in that room of if they let her into an infirmary. She probably gives birth in that room.

They probably let her keep the baby herself, because newborns need constant attention from their mother. They need to be nursed, and changed, and given constant affection. Maybe, that’s what gets Byleth through the first year and a half of her captivity, taking care of the baby. Naming them, telling them stories, playing with their hair.

Byleth is a new mother, and she didn’t have a mother of her own to learn from, but she has nothing but time to learn in this room.

I wonder if the babe has blonde or green hair? I wonder if they have green or blue eyes? I wonder if they have their father’s nose? Their grandfather’s ears? I wonder if Byleth looks at them and thinks about Dimitri sometimes, and the fact this child might never meet him.

Okay, but in my discord server we decided that Link from BOTW is the Dimileth love child and now I can’t stop thinking about it.

One thing the child does have is a crest of Blaiddyd.

Pretty hard to hide who the father is with that.

The Black Eagles all try to be involved in raising the child. They brings toys, and books, and clothes. The stay and tell stories and sing songs. But it doesn’t make up for the fact that the child is growing up in such an environment and never will.

Edelgard probably relocates the child after the first half a year, though. She moves them to a royal nursery and has nannies help raise them, and tries to act as a second mother to them. It was probably a big fight to get them out of the room, with lot’s of Byleth screaming and kicking and clawing at the guards as they took her child. Edelgard probably tried to placate Byleth, saying that the babe needed to be outside some, and that she’ll join him as soon as the war is over.

Or maybe that doesn’t happen. Maybe the babe is locked in that room with their mother, having never seen the outside world. Never knowing anything but that room.

I think that one is sadder and more likely, if only to keep Byleth complacent, so we’ll go with that one.

The babe probably grows up with two different extremes. On one hand Edelgard is trying to be their mother and feel their head with Empire propaganda. On the other hand Byleth is telling them not to trust Edelgard, whispering different stories than the one they’ve heard about the war and he people involved. The grow up with one side telling them about the evils of the church and crests, and the other telling them about the best memories of Garreg Mach and the people there.

For years, the only thing the child hears about their father is that he’s either an enemy of the Empire, a dead one, or he was a kind and just man.

If the poor babe was locked up with their mother and never let out than they’re probably more inclined to believe her over the other mother that’s not really their mother that visits all the time, even if she does bring great toys. The news would be more mixed if they’re raised in the nursery. But since I’m leaning towards the former…

The child grows up pale and used to enclosed walls. They probably don’t know what the sky looks like, or the sun, or a forest, or lake, or the stars. They’ve seen pictures in the books the Black Eagles bring, but no real concept other than that.

I like to think that Byleth probably finally decides to risk escape when the child asks if he’ll ever get to feel rain. That’s when she tries to make plans at least.

Byleth probably teaches him to wield a sword as best she can in that room, teaching him to swing a little wooden toy sword as best she can.

The first time the child sees the sky is during the first escape attempt.

Tiny hands clutch their mother’s clothes from beneath a cloak, and small eyes turn up towards the sky to see so much bright that they’re blinded, unused to so much light. It’s big, and blue, larger than they could have ever imagined.

Byleth fights a whole armed guard trying to get out of that city, her child strapped to her back. She’s fiercer than any dragon, more savage than any lion, and more determined to get through those gates than any force of nature they’ve ever faced. It takes dozens and dozens of guards to stop her without harming her or the child, but they do, eventually, because Byleth couldn’t go all out, she couldn’t risk the tiny body on her back.

She failed to escape in the end.

The babe is most certainly taken from her after that, relocated to a nursery and only allowed supervised visits every day. Byleth isn’t even sure if she’s angry or not, because she showed her child the sky, and they get to see it all the time now, the get to see something other than this damn room, and she still see them every day.

Still, ever day she holds them close to her chest, when it’s time for them to leave her, those small hands clutching her clothes and fat tears rolling down their chubby cheeks. All she can to is hold them so close in a warm embrace and whisper promises in their ear that she’ll get out someday, and when she does she’ll come get him, and they can go away and find their father, and the Blue Lions, and then they can all finally live together under the sky.

580 notes · View notes