#i guess a trading day is in order next week

[space-ninja-fashion-show]

Bye bye plat, i am getting buried under frames and most of them need slots

Rhino Prime and Mag Prime i grabbed today but there's still Nova, Mirage Prime, Zephyr Prime, and as of today the components of Voruna and Octavia are also cooking

This is an invasion

[sleepyhoon]

a heart that’s pure - s.jaeyun (m) [teaser]

୨ৎ pairing. religious virgin!jake x witch!reader

warnings. witches, use of magic, religious themes, mention of death, mention of animal cruelty (no animals were harmed in the making of this fic!), swearing, perv jake, smut, virginity loss.

est word count. 13k+

release date. tbd (soon!)

a/n. when i tell you i am so excited for this … you have no idea. gonna see if i can finish this up by next saturday hehe in the meantime, can anyone guess where i got the title from?

୨ৎ synopsis. Time and time again you find yourself wondering if it’s even worth being a witch if you’re seemingly the weakest one in your family. Though you wouldn’t trade your telekinesis for anything the world could offer, even if that means only being able to move around objects under twenty pounds. Your grandmother, who’s been able to look and behave as a thirty-year-old for the past fifty years by sacrificing the souls of pure, untouched, newborn animals, is among the strongest in your family; always belittling and teasing you on how you often struggle to lift something as simple as a stack of books.

The best part of hating your grandmother is the fact that she lives an hour away, so you rarely see her aside from her random check-ins. Typically, you ignore her and that’s easy, until she visits one day and finally meets your neighbor, Jake - a preacher’s son - whose aura is a pure, untouched, blinding white. Much to your dismay, your grandmother decides he should be the first human sacrifice to keep her young, and that she’ll be back for him in a week.

Which means you have seven days to convince Jake to give you his virginity, when he’s already keen on saving himself for marriage.

or

Your witch grandmother wants your neighbor, Jake’s pure soul, leaving you with only a week to have sex with him in order to save his life.

[riki-riks-chick]

Jungwon gets jealous after you spend time with another guy (innocently tho). Y/n is not a cheater. Wonie is just feeling possessive. 🙃

Trading Times ┃Y.JW

jealous!jungwon x reader

jungwon gets jealous bc yn is hanging out with her childhood best friend.

fluff! jealous jw, best friend jay, no cheater behavior, yn is whipped for jw, kisses, jw doesn't know how special he is to yn.

wdct: 1.6k

tyy for this request ♡

═════════════

Third Person POV~

"Hey, Y/n... Do you maybe wanna hang out later?.." Jungwon asks, wrapping his arms around you as you finish up washing the dishes. "Sorry, baby.. Jay is back in town for the week so he asked me to hang out with him so we could catch up." You respond as he pouts. "Then tomorrow?.."

You sigh, turning off the tap and drying your hands before turning to face Jungwon. "Tomorrow I'm supposed to go visit his mom. I haven't seen her in three years... I promise we'll hang out the day after." You answer as he nods. "Okay.. I'll just ask Sunoo if he wants to hang out.."

You smile, giving him a quick kiss. "I have to go get dressed.. Sorry I couldn't go out with you today.." You mumble as he nods. "It's fine.. Have fun."

You then head upstairs, showering, doing your hair, and getting dressed before slipping into your most comfortable sneakers.

After making sure you had everything you needed, you made your way downstairs. Jungwon had just walked out of the kitchen. "You look so pretty, but you're wearing jeans?" He questions, knowing you hate wearing jeans, and you nod. "Yeah, I only wear skirts when I'm out with you.. They're usually pretty short, so I don't wanna risk anyone who isn't you trying to get an eyeful."

He nods at your explanation. "Okay.. Are these at least comfortable for you? They wont feel too tight after you eat?" He asks as you nod. "I'm fine, they're comfortable.. Now I gotta go, bye Jungwon."

You kiss his cheek before grabbing your keys and leaving the house. As soon as he hears the lock click he lets out the biggest sigh.

Within the next thirty minutes, Sunoo comes over and now he's forced to listen to all of Jungwon's complaining.

"Jungwon, it's not that serious.. She's known him since they were in diapers damn near. If they were anything more than friends, you would've never had a chance." Sunoo explains as Jungwon groans. "I'm not that stupid, Sunoo. I know she wouldn't cheat on me.. I'm just jealous because whenever he comes to visit, she gives him all her attention."

Sunoo nods. "I guess so, but you have her attention all the time, right?" He asks and Jungwon sighs. "Who's side are you on?"

Sunoo only laughs in response. "I'm on logic's side, let's just have fun for now."

Meanwhile, you had just met up with Jay at a cafe that you two used to study and hang out at all the time. He's already ordered you a drink, so you sit across from him.

"It's good to see you.." He smiles as you nod. "I know, it always feels like it's been forever. We need to see each other more than once a year."

You two spend time catching up, talking about work and just life in general. Eventually he asks about Jungwon. "So, how's your boyfriend?" He questions as you smile, beaming at the thought alone of Jungwon. "He's great.. I love him so much."

Jay smiles at your happiness. "I have something to tell you." You can tell by his dopey smile that he has good news, so you gesture for him to keep speaking. "I have a girlfriend..."

You light up at the news, reaching over the table to grab his hand excitedly. "Oh my god tell me all about her!"

He tells you everything from how he met her down to how they got together. It's all so endearing to hear since you know how badly his last relationship ended.

After talking for over an hour about life, you both went to an arcade together, playing all the games you used to, except you got to win this time.

When your hangout finally came to an end, you parted your ways, planning to see each other around the same time tomorrow.

You got home at around 5pm, ready to see your boyfriend after thinking about what he was up to all day.

"Jungwon, I'm back." You stepped out of your shoes, setting your keys and your bag down as you walked into the living room.

Sunoo was sitting on the arm chair, and Jungwon was asleep on the couch. Some random movie was playing in the background.

"Hey, Sun." You smile as he waves. "Hey, how was your hang out with Jay?" He asks as you hum. "It was fun. How was your hang out with Jungwon?" You question, moving around the couch to ruffle your sleeping boyfriend's hair.

"It was good, he was complaining for the first hour though." He replied as you nodded. "Sounds about right."

Sunoo decides that he's gonna go home, saying goodbye before leaving. You wake Jungwon up and he's immediately clinging to you. "I missed you.." He pouts, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You chuckle, kissing his temple. "I missed you too.. Let's order something to eat, hm?"

The next day, you're up earlier, because Jay called and said his mom wanted to meet for a late breakfast, early lunch. You agreed simply because you didn't wanna inconvenience his mother.

Jungwon was still sleep when you finished getting ready, so you sat beside him on the bed, shaking him gently. "Jungwon.. Wake up."

He stirs, humming as he wraps his arms around your waist. "Where are you going?.." He mumbles with a pout in his tone. You ruffle his hair. "I'm going to brunch with Jay and his mom.. I'll see you later.."

He nods, kissing your cheek before burying his head into his pillow. You get up, patting his back before leaving.

Your day is spent hanging out with Jay, and catching up with his mother. She tells you about how happy she is that her son is finally in a new relationship, and how she hopes this one ends in marriage.

You're happy to see Jay beaming whenever he talks about his girlfriend, similar to the way he watches you smile whenever you talk about Jungwon.

You end up spending much more time than usual hanging out with Jay, and when you finally get home, it's around 8pm.

You look for Jungwon, not finding him in the kitchen, or the living room.

You know he usually doesn't sleep this early, but you check the bedroom anyway, and surely there's a Jungwon shaped lump beneath your covers.

You kick off your shoes, dropping your jacket somewhere along the way as you climb onto the bed, pulling the covers off of his head. "I'm back, baby.." You leaned down to kiss his cheek, pushing his hair out of his face.

He didn't seem too thrilled to see you. "Wonnie.. What's wrong?" You question as he sighs. "You've been gone all day... I've just been here by myself.. All the while you're hanging out with Jay.." He pouts, turning over to look at you. You frown, leaning against the headboard. "Jungwon.. You know it's not like that.. It's been almost a year since I last saw him.. We just wanted to catch up.." You explained for what seemed like the thousandth time since you first introduced Jungwon to Jay.

He had always gotten jealous, but you thought things were different now. You'd been with Jungwon for almost three years now after all. It seems that he still isn't too fond of your relationship with Jay.

"I just.. I wish I knew you like he did.. He's known you since you were a kid... He has so many memories to share with you, and I hardly just found out that you used to dream of being a famous pianist when you were a kid.. I know I shouldn't, but I get jealous.." He explains, avoiding your eyes as you take his hands in yours.

"I understand.. I know Jay and I are close, but I promise you.. You know me in ways Jay couldn't even imagine.. You know how I kiss, my love language, the playlist I listen to when I shower, and even every step of my skincare routine in order.. You're my boyfriend.. Jay could never beat that.." Jungwon sits up, smiling at your words as he hugs you. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to make you feel bad about it.." He mumbles in your ear, pulling back to kiss your forehead.

You smile brightly at him. "It's okay to be jealous.. I can't imagine how you must feel seeing your girlfriend be close to another guy.. I'm glad that you trust me though.."

He nods, pinching your cheek. "I try not to be to controlling.. Otherwise you would leave me for someone else.."

You chuckle in response. "You know what, next time he said he'd bring his girlfriend so I could meet her.. I'll bring you too and we could have a double date.." You say excitedly as Jungwon nods, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

"That sounds great, baby.."

═════════════

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Finale:

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ only—i choose not to list warnings for this one as not to spoil anything but you know how we get down over here on GMNO, happy endings only. read at your own discretion.) unedited/not proofread (for now)

wc: 7k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

June, 2004

“Don’t you dare,” Joel ordered as he surprised you from the doorway of your bedroom—your former bedroom.

You stood in front of a stack of cardboard boxes labeled “linens”, your hands resting on two sides as though you were caught mid-lift. He walked over to you with a smirk, shaking his head before lifting the box for you.

“You’re already carrying enough,” he said, eyes falling to your swollen belly, six-months into your first pregnancy.

“I think I’m more than capable of carrying a box of sheets,” you countered with a matching smirk, reaching for the box that sat below the one he just stole from you.

“Uh-uh,” Tommy came rushing in, sweeping the box from your grasp. “You got my nephew to worry about.”

“How do you know I’m having a boy?” you asked, following your fiancé and soon-to-be brother in law out of your old home to watch them load the moving truck.

“I can just feel it,” he replied, earning a smile from his older brother.

“I’m still hopin’ for another girl,” Joel admitted as he walked down the rickety metal ramp to meet you as you stood in the walkway, his hands sliding over your belly to rest on your waist. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips before letting you go. “You should go sit in the sunroom with Sarah and Jessie. Make sure they’re keepin’ room for Jesus and all that.”

“Oh, let them be. Not like we have to worry about teen pregnancy—“

“Alright, alright.” Joel covered his ears, wincing at the thought. “Still, I don’t want you workin’ too hard.”

“Joel, I promise, I’m not working hard at all. You and Tommy won’t give me the chance.”

“That’s how it should be,” he countered, walking inside the house with you following behind.

“Guys, guess what?” Sarah and her newly defined girlfriend, Jessie burst into the half-packed kitchen as you stood slowly making your way through your pantry, organizing a keep pile and a donate pile. Joel lifted a brow at her as he started on taking the metal barstools that stood at your kitchen island apart so that they could take up less room in the truck. “Britney Spears is coming to San Antonio next month.”

“Praise to the heavens,” Joel mumbled under his breath, earning a chuckle from you as you rolled you eyes at his lackluster reaction.

“That’s fun!” you replied, looking at the two fifteen year-olds. “How much are tickets?”

“Like thirty bucks,” Jessie sighed, frowning. “My mom’s gonna make me work at the restaurant to earn it.”

“Well, she’s got the right idea,” Joel stood, having disassembled the first stool. “Sarah, why don’t you come work with me and Tommy this week and I’ll buy your ticket.”

“Really?” she asked with a hopeful smile before remembering her fathers line of work. “Wait—at the site? I won’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure we can find somethin’ for you to do.”

“Yeah, I mean…Britney’s worth it,” Sarah sighed and shrugged before walking back into the sunroom with Jessie in tow.

“Hey, did I tell you we got a new hire?” Joel spoke to you as he started on the second stool.

“Oh, that’s good. I thought you were having trouble finding someone?”

“We were, but she got the seal of approval from Tommy. Guess she’s a real jack-of-all-trades type’a builder. S’just what we needed.” You smiled at him proudly, his construction company having taken off this last year and a half. They were almost too busy, too booked, leaving Joel and Tommy to stay behind and work the amount of four people instead of two just so that their projects remained on time. “Hopefully might start gettin’ two days off a week instead of one.”

“That would be nice,” you hummed, walking over to him to slide your hand over his sweaty but irresistible back as he crouched down to unscrew some bolts from the legs of the stool. “I’ve been like a lonely little housewife these last few months. Holed up waiting for my man to come back from the coal mines.”

“Oh, is that right?” He looked up at you with a smirk. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had last been together, long days at the site and, for you, at school forcing you apart. Aside from a few steamy but quick makeouts, you were left longing for your soon-to-be husband. “I been neglectin’ you, huh?”

You nodded, your smile spreading wider as you played along, your voice dramatic and theatrical as you tried on an old-timey southern belle persona. “All I got is this baby I’m brewing to remember you by.”

Joel stood up and dropped his tools on the kitchen counter before letting his hands find your waist, tugging you as close to him as your belly would allow. He leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek that caused your entire body to light with chills as his kisses traveled down your neck.

“Why don’t I take you into the bedroom and give you that attention you’ve been needin’ so bad,” he rasped against your skin, dizzying your mind as you clung to him, breathless and wanting.

“House full of people,” Tommy’s voice sounded, reminding the two of you why you’d gone so long without each other in the first place. “Thought this would be done by now. Been, what, three years?”

“Don’t mind him, his longest relationship has been with the goddamn Longhorns,” Joel mumbled, keeping you hugged to his body. “Don’t know a thing about real love.”

“Yeah, yeah, save me the lecture, old man.” Tommy batted his brother’s teasing away and continued on packing and moving in the living room.

“Have I really been neglectin’ you, baby? All jokes aside,” Joel asked in a whisper pressed to your ear. You squeezed him closer and laid your head on his chest, Joel’s chin resting on top of it as he held you.

“No, I mean…I do miss you, and it has been a while since we last were together, but you’re not neglecting me. You still come home and hold me and talk to me and makeout with me,” you spoke softly, your voice a soothing hum against his chest. “We’re tired people, and especially now with the baby…I didn’t expect you to be clawing my clothes off when I look like a whale—“

“Excuse me?” he snapped, pulling your head from his chest so he could sternly look into your eyes. “None’a that. You’re beautiful…carryin’ our baby. Drives me fuckin’ wild seein’ you like this. M’sorry I haven’t been energized enough to show it, but I promise you, baby…you’re drivin’ me crazy walkin’ around like this.”

His hands slipped to squeeze the globes of your ass that had grown along with your belly and hips and, well, everything else.

“Tommy’s gonna see,” you scolded in a whisper as Joel’s fingers pinched the fabric of your dress until it started to lift, allowing his hands to rest against your skin and the cotton of your panties. Weaker and breathier, you exhaled, “Or the girls.”

“I promise no one’s gonna see,” he rasped, pressing his against your neck.

“Dad, come out here quick! There’s—oh my god! There’s a scorpion!” Sarah’s high-pitched squeal had Joel rushing out into the sunroom, his teasing long forgotten as he searched the room frantically. Sarah pointed in the corner and Joel spotted it, black and bigger than any scorpion he’d seen before.

“How the hell’d you get in here?” he muttered to the insect as he guided the girls inside the house before coming inside as well to grab a cup and the dust pan.

You stood in the frame of the sliding glass door, watching him as he carefully approached the scorpion as though he was Steve Irwin approaching a crocodile.

“They don’t jump, do they?” you asked, wincing as Joel started to make contact, guiding it towards the cup. The girls were behind you as though you were a shield, both of them letting out a squeal when the scorpion tried to strike Joel’s wrist, just barely missing. “Joel, just leave it! This can just be his house now, it’s not worth it.”

“Oh, hush,” Joel barked, keeping focused on the task before him. With either skill or luck, Joel managed to sweep the ground-hog sized scorpion into the glass cup and placed the dust pan over the mouth to keep him inside. “See, I got it.”

“Dad, don’t!” Sarah got gravely serious, sternly ordering her father to remain where he was with a point of her finger. Joel grinned and continued over, making both of the girls squeal and run off through the house.

“It’s so gross,” you cringed, leaning over to look at it through the glass with extreme caution and hesitancy.

“I don’t know,” Joel lifted it to his eye level to study it. “I think he’s kinda cool lookin’. Maybe we can keep ‘em as a pet.”

“Yeah, ri-IGHT—Joel!” you shrieked in terror as he pushed the glass towards you with a bark, making you jump backwards. Joel cackled as he watched you stand with your hand over your heart, your stern eyes watching him unamused. “That wasn’t funny.”

“I thought it was,” he chuckled. You watched him walk out to the backyard and set his new friend free, your heart still thumping in your chest. “Gotta get your heart rate up every now and then.”

“I don’t think you do.” Joel laughed and walked to hold you but was stopped by your hand pushing against his chest. “No, you don’t get to touch me. I almost pissed myself!”

Joel laughed again, proud of his prank. “God, it was good.”

“I’m glad you’re satisfied. I can promise you that’s the only satisfaction you’re gonna get for a while, pal.” Joel poured immediately, following you as you walked through the house out to the front yard where Tommy, Sarah, and Jessie laid out in the grass, staring up at the sky. “Everybody, we’re shunning Joel.”

“What?” he chuckled, looking at you with amusement and affection, so rarely seeing you worked up like this.

“Sure thing,” Tommy replied, mellow and relaxed as he looked at the clouds, a beer in his hand.

“Sounds good,” Jessie agreed before pointing at the sky. “That’s a dragon.”

“Yeah it is,” Sarah agreed. “And why are we shunning dad?”

“He threw the scorpion at me.” You knew you were exaggerating, your smirk growing as you watched Joel scoff at the claim, a look of amazement on the entire time.

“I did no such thing,” he defended. “I jumped it at her—“

“Oh, that’s right. He jumped it at me,” you repeated, still smirking at him. “A pregnant woman.”

“Oh, the pregnancy card again,” Joel playfully sighed, earning a gasp from you.

“Pregnancy card? How dare you?” you laughed. “I rest my case, Sarah.”

“Alright, yeah. Dad’s shunned.” Joel rolled his eyes at you before walking over, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he sang, widening your already smitten grin. “I promise not to throw any more scorpions at ya. You forgive me now?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, melting into him.

“I ain’t shunned?” he murmured, kissing your shoulder innocently.

“No, but the threat’s always there. As you just saw, I have the votes.” Joel chuckled against your skin.

“Trust me, I know my place.”

A Week Later

It was a Friday, you’d been stuck at the house all alone, Sarah off with her dad at the site to earn her Britney Spears ticket money. After doing a few hours of nesting, marrying your things to Joel’s around the house, you perked up at the sight of Joel’s name on the caller ID of your cell.

“Hi,” you sang with a smile.

“Hey baby,” he greeted. “Was wonderin’ if you could pick me and Sarah up in about a half hour?”

“Ooo, I get you home early tonight?” Your smile turned into a grin.

“Yeah, but Sean’s havin’ a barbecue at his place. Invited the whole crew so I guess we should show up.”

“Well, I’m in.”

“See you in a little?”

“Sounds good, baby.”

You smiled as you flipped your cell shut, but the task of dressing yourself quickly wiped your grin away.

You felt like a whale in everything these days, and despite Joel’s eagerness for you each and every day, you felt like a stranger to yourself. Even in the dresses you’d been living in, you felt every change in the way your body used to fill them out. You quickly shooed the insecurity from your mind and dressed yourself for comfort before heading out to go pick the Miller’s up.

Rolling into the construction site, you spotted Joel and Sarah standing in the dirt parking lot out in front of the project, a woman in front of them talking. You furrowed your brows as you got closer, seeing that whoever this woman was, she was pretty—the kind of pretty that makes you wonder why the hell she’s here in a construction lot instead of on billboards and magazine covers.

Your chest felt tight with insecurity as you pulled up to them, hoping with all your might that Joel didn’t try to introduce you to Construction-Barbie.

“Alright, Meg. See ya at the party.” Joel waved to her as he opened the backseat for Sarah, a friendly—too friendly—smile on his face when he hopped in the passenger seat. “Hey baby,” Joel leaned forward for a kiss but you were still too jealous to oblige, giving him your cheek instead. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you lied, nodding as you pulled out of the lot, the rest of the drive silent besides the pop on the radio and Sarah's soft hums.

After giving the two of them time to change into nicer clothes, all three of you piled into the car again with Joel in the driver's seat. Sarah talked about her day at work, how cool it was to work with Meg, and how surprising it was that the newcomer managed to make her dad laugh. You tried not to picture the scene.

Joel stopped at a grocery store, running in quickly to grab some beer and a few bags of chips to bring to the party while you and Sarah remained in the car.

“Meg sounds great,” you spoke, unable to keep your jealousy to yourself.

“She’s alright,” Sarah replied, seemingly noticing your insecurity. “A little chatty.”

“Your dad didn’t seem to mind,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself.

“She was a little flirty,” Sarah replied. “But dad didn’t seem to notice.”

You tried to shake the jealousy, knowing that it was silly and hormone-driven. Joel loved you. But that didn’t mean that he still couldn’t find someone else attractive at the same time.

At the party, you kept mostly to yourself. You were introverted on a good day, but with this heavy insecurity weighing you down, you found yourself retreating inward while everyone else mingled and carried on.

You were inside the house of Joel’s lead plumber, his wife buzzing around the house as she tried to corral her five children under five. You sat in the living room, watching and praying yours didn’t come out like that—loud and disobedient and restless.

“So, how far along are you?” she asked, breathless as she gave up and sat down on the loveseat across from you.

“Six months,” you replied with a small but friendly smile. “Got any advice for me?”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Besides not havin’ ‘em in the first place? I don’t know—sleep whenever you can. They’ll suck the life outta you if you let ‘em.”

“A little bleak, honey,” Sean, her husband, walked in through the patio door, Joel following behind him.

“It’s the truth,” she argued, giving him a passive aggressive sigh. “It ain’t easy. ‘Specially if there’s only one parent home to do it.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, trying to ease the tension.

You stood, ready to venture beyond the tension anf chaos of the house, even if it meant having to enter the crowded backyard.

“You comin’ out?” Joel asked, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted it and let him walk you outside. “That was brutal in there.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. Joel’s eyes scanned you as you stood beside him, staring ahead.

“You sure you’re alright? Been awfully quiet,” he noted.

“Yeah, just…feeling a little off today,” you lied.

Spotting a familiar head of strawberry blonde curls snorting with laughter as she stood with Tommy and Sarah by the grill. They both looked comfortable around her, making your stomach curl with a new type of jealousy. She wanted your entire family.

“Joel!” she called once she caught you staring. “Come over here and join us, darlin’!”

You resented the petname. Turning to Joel, you watched as his cheeks flushed, his eyes flickering to yours.

“C’mon,” he looked to you fully, attempting to slide his hand across your back but you stopped him, swatting his arm away. “Baby,” he began, but you were already too worked up to be consoled. “She calls everybody that.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you muttered.

“Baby, you ain’t really jealous, are you?” He chuckled. Wrong move. With a furrow in your brow, you reached your hands into his pockets and tugged out the keys to the car.

“I’m going home. Call me when you wanna be picked up from your date.”

Joel called after you only once, not wanting to make a scene by raising his voice or following you out.

Back at home, you stewed. What started as hormonal territorialism quickly snowballed into justified rage. She’d clearly met your eyes, seeing you standing there beside him, and ignored you. Then, she proceeded to flirt with him right in front of you. Joel did nothing about it except for defend her, which was what you were currently most angry about.

As you aggressively turned the pages of the book you were reading to distract yourself, you were surprised to see headlights through the window. Closing your book, you got up and peeled through the blinds to see Joel and Sarah stepping out of a taxi, your cheeks heating as guilt set in. You didn’t mean for Sarah to get involved in your fight with Joel.

Hurrying upstairs, you heard the front door open, the two of them speaking downstairs but it was too faint to make any sense. As you stood in the bathroom, hurting your clothes off so that you could jump in the shower, you felt more than heard Joel’s heavy footsteps up the staircase. Soon, after you stepped into the shower, Joel found his way into the bathroom, announcing himself in the doorway.

“We’re home.” His voice was gentle, but carried a sadness to it that made you feel less angry and more guilty.

“Okay,” you managed.

“Can I come in?” he asked, the question lingering in the air for a bit before you answered.

“Yeah,” you decided.

In the matter of a few seconds, Joel was stripped and stepping in behind you, his eyes locked on yours.

“I’m sorry,” he started, stepping closer to you and the stream of water. “I told her that pet-name stuff wasn’t cool with me, but I guess she ain’t as good at listenin’ as she is talkin’.”

“She’s pretty,” you replied, desperate to keep hold of this jealousy.

“Tommy thinks so,” Joel added.

“And you?” He shook his head and rested his hands on the swell of your stomach.

“I’m too busy thinkin’ about you,” he replied. “Thinkin’ ‘bout our family.”

“I know you love me, Joel. It’s not about that,” you sighed, moving to turn around but he stopped you before you could even flinch, forcing you to look at him when you continued. “I want you to think I’m…pretty like that. To want me.”

“You don’t think I want you?” He chuckled, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “For someone who ‘doesn’t want you’, I sure seem to paw at you every minute of every day.”

“I guess you’re right,” you chuckled, finally seeing the light beyond all the dark gray that this storm of jealousy and insecurity you were caught in. “Just seeing you with someone so pretty, who does what you do—“

“First off, she’s alright. She ain’t half as good as Tommy promised me was. M’pretty sure they’re fuckin’ and that’s why he recommended her.” You laughed. “Secondly, I need you to know that it doesn’t matter who I’m standin’ next to. I’m only ever thinkin’ about the next time I get to see you.”

“You’re good at this,” you smiled, reaching to hold his face in your hands. “Defusing the bomb that is a pregnant woman’s mind.”

“You know…I think that’s the first time I ever saw you jealous,” he hummed, leaning in to press a soft, teasing kiss on your lips.

“It happens a lot, I’m just usually good at hiding it,” you whispered back, stealing a few kisses for yourself. “Think you should prepare yourself for more of this crazy. Might be this way until the baby comes.”

“I like the crazy,” he smiled.

Five years later — December 25th, 2009

“Iris, watch out—“ Your five year old daughter ran full speed through the kitchen and living room, your two year old son, Miles, clumsily chasing her with his brand new stuffed dinosaur. It was hard to be mad at either of them, their giggles filling the room along with the crunch of the wrapping paper littering the carpet beneath their feet.

“Alright,” Joel scooped both of his children up and threw them over his shoulder, earning squeals and laughter as he walked them over to the couch you were sitting on. He plopped kids onto your lap but only Miles stayed. Joel sighed and sat down beside you as Iris got up again, a mischievous grin on her face as she stood before the three of you, all eyes on her. “Well,” Joel started, lifting his hands before dropping them back onto his lap. “We paid for a show. Are you gonna sing for us, Hannah Montana?”

“Daddy, where’s the phone?” Iris asked, making a fist and then tapping it to help illustrate what she wanted.

“The microphone? Somewhere in all this mess,” you replied, gesturing to the mountain of wrapping paper on the floor. “Gotta go fishing for it, baby.”

Iris quickly got to work, making an arguably bigger mess as she searched for her brand new toy, a microphone that was supposed to be its own speaker as well, but truthfully wasn’t much louder than Iris’s voice.

“Hey, hey!” Sarah walked in the front door with a smile, two large bags in her hands stuffed full of wrapped presents. When she took in the mess, she frowned. “Ah, did you guys already do gifts?”

“Iris already had them open before we even got downstairs,” Joel replied as he walked to the door to take the bags from his now twenty year-old’s hands before giving her a tight hug. “Martin come along?”

Martin was Sarah’s boyfriend of two years, the pair meeting in her biology class freshman year of college.

“Yeah, he’s getting the bags,” Sarah replied before coming over to hug you tight.

“How are you? How’s school?” You missed having Sarah at the house but were more than proud of her for getting into the pre-med program at Stanford.

“School is school, but it’s been way easier now that we aren’t living in the dorms anymore.”

“Sissy!” Iris rushed up to her sister and waved her new Hannah Montana microphone in her face. “Sing with me.”

“Oh…yay,” Sarah forced a smile but looked to you for help.

“How about we open the gifts sissy brought instead?” you proposed and your daughter instantly agreed.

“How was the drive?” Joel spoke to Martin as he helped him carry the bags upstairs to Sarah’s old bedroom.

“Not too bad. Sarah snored the entire way.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Think she gets it from me.”

When Joel and Martin returned from the second floor, they immediately found their spots beside their partners, each of them making the same pained groan as they sat down.

“God,” you chuckled, looking to Sarah who was already looking at you. “They’re the same person.”

“Gross. Hate that.”

“You gonna pass out the gifts or what?” Joel asked, unamused by the comparison.

As Sarah and Martin sorted out the gifts, handing a few to Iris, a few to Miles, two to you and one to Joel. Joel shook his head at the box handed to him, but Sarah’s round eyes got her her way every single time.

“Told you no gifts for me,” Joel grumbled as he ripped the wrapping. “Don’t want you spendin’ your money—“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she smiled, sitting down beside her boyfriend. “I think you’ll like this one. It’s a gift for everybody, but I think you’re going to have the most fun with it.”

You watched him rather than opening your own gifts, the small black box in his hand opening to reveal a key. Joel looked up with boyish eyes, shocked and excited and near tears all at the same time.

“What is it?” you asked, plucking the key from his hand.

“This ain’t—how—what?” Joel spoke through his shock.

“What’s it a key to?” you asked again, chuckling at the tears welling up in your husband’s eyes.

“My parents used to own this beat up old ranch in San Antonio, but had to sell it off when Sarah was a kid. I always wanted to buy it back and fix it up, but I just…never got around to it,” Joel finally replied to your questioning, turning to you with wet eyes and a big smile before looking at his daughter and her boyfriend. “How did—“

“My dad’s a realtor and knew the guy who was selling it, so Sarah and I put our money together to buy it back,” Martin detailed.

“In your name, so don’t get too excited. Mortgage isn’t gonna be that bad because we got it at twenty thousand and we put down a decent down payment,” Sarah added. “So, just a few hundred a month.”

“Baby girl,” Joel shook his head and looked down at the key. “How much do I owe y’all—“

“Dad, you took care of me my whole life. You deserve this. Besides, I just signed with a publisher for my book, so—“

“What?” you practically squealed, Miles covering his ears as he sat in your lap. “Congrats, baby girl!”

“Thank you, thank you,” she smiled and bowed, bringing your eyes to the shining rock on her ring finger. Joel seemingly noticed it too because his clapping suddenly ceased.

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes shifting to Martin’s nervous stare.

“Shit—we were gonna announce it at dinner so Uncle Tommy could be here too, but…” She looked to her boyfriend. “We’re engaged.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hands lifting to your mouth to hide the joy in your smile. “I’m so happy. Oh my god!”

“That’s bad, mommy,” Iris scolded. You nodded but pointed at Sarah’s ring.

“I known, but sissy’s getting married, baby!”

“Dad?” Sarah spoke to her father who sat frozen in shock. You turned to him as well, studying him carefully for any signs of anger or disappointment, but instead found only pride and joy. “Please don’t be mad. Martin wanted to ask first but I told him that’s too old school—“

“Baby, I’m not mad,” he assured softly, shaking his head as his eyes welled with fresh tears. “I’m just so happy.”

“Oh, dad,” Sarah cooed, her own eyes shedding tears as she walked over to hug her father close as he stood up. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby girl. So much.” Joel squeezed her once more before letting her go and turning to her fiancé. “And you too by proxy.”

After a long afternoon spent beside Joel at the computer studying the state of the ranch from the pictures Martin pulled up from the realtor, it was decided that Joel would take weekends off of work—not that he usually worked them anymore, the business having taken off so much that it forced him into a more managerial role—and drive down to the ranch to work on it, the kids and you invited of course but he understood if you didn’t want to, after all, “It ain’t gonna be pretty for a while, baby”. You agreed to let him check it out in person first before coming along because it seemed a little too dangerous for the kids with the property’s long, unmowed yard and old, untouched cabin.

Dinnertime came and so did Tommy and his girlfriend of one year—who also happened to be your good friend and a successful attorney—Maria, the two of them walking into a cleaner home than the one Sarah and Martin were greeted with. She had a six year old son, Kevin, who loved to play with your babies every time he came over.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tommy held up Sarah’s left hand to stare at the ring. “You were just a snot-nosed kid a second ago.”

“Yep,” she giggled.

“Well,” Tommy dropped her hand and looked to Martin, giving him a handshake. “You know who you’re gonna answer to if you hurt her.”

“Alright,” Joel interjected as he returned to the kitchen table that the adults were sat at while the kids played in the living room, The Grinch on in the background to busy them even more. He set a bottle of beer down in front of each of you, but Marin was quick to slide her bottle away from her. “No? And I bought the good shit just to impress y’all.”

“It’s just…” She looked to Tommy for help, the younger Miller smirking as he turned to the table.

“We’re havin’ a baby,” he announced and the table roared with applause and cheers. Joel’s smile was the widest, the two brothers locking eyes. Joel lifted his beer up to toast to life and the rest of you gladly clinked your bottles together in agreement. To life, indeed.

March, 2010

“So,” Joel started, a proud but nervous grin on his face as you climbed out of the passenger seat of the car to get a good look at the ranch. “What d’ya think?”

The long, unmowed grass was now trimmed neatly, making the land look so much bigger. Joel had fixed the gate, but you noticed that when he pulled in; he made sure to have a sign placed at the entrance reading “Miller Ranch” to properly fulfill his lifelong dream. The old, rickety cabin was now renovated and converted into a private den in case Sarah and Martin ever wanted to come stay for a while. Beside it stood a brand new ranch house, modest in size compared to the surrounding ranches, but it was big enough to hold three bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, and a living room. But the part you loved most was the wrap-around porch he built by hand, painted a soft, pale yellow to contrast to the white of the home.

“I think,” you started, a smile growing on your face. “I wanna live here now.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled and approached you at the passenger side door, pressing you against it. “Why don’t we go inside? Maybe…test it out.”

“Mm, might as well take advantage of Tommy and Maria watching the kids,” you replied, your lips ghosting over his.

Joel tugged you along by the hand up the gravel driveway, allowing you the time to admire the little details like the swing he built onto the big oak tree between the den and the house, or the sneak peek you caught of rose bushes in the backyard. With each detail, you fell more and more in love with the property, and what was once a joke now turned into a serious longing—you wanted to move here. Bad.

“Ready?” Joel asked as he opened the screen door and rested his hand on the doorknob of the main, wooden door painted that same, soft yellow. You nodded at him and he opened the house, letting you walk in first, he flipped on the lights behind you as he entered. You gasped at the living room, how spacious but cozy it felt with a fireplace built in, not that the San Antonio weather ever really called for it.

Turning to the other side, you saw the dining room that connected into the kitchen via a square archway. You started that way, admiring the hand-made dining table before walking into the kitchen of your dreams. You let out a moan at the size of it, the brand new appliances that were a surprise but don’t worry, they’re on a lease.

Back in the hall, you carried on, admiring the framed pictures he’d hung of your joined family over the years, the smiling image of Sarah’s mother and Mary and Paul and everyone you’d lost bringing tears to your eyes.

“This is gonna be Miles’ room,” Joel opened the door to a room set up for a kid rather than a toddler aside from the bed with safety rails on it. You smiled at the thought of your son growing up here.

“And this?” you reached for the door across the hall and opened it to find a bathroom, modest but new.

“Kids bath,” he replied. Guiding you to the room beside Miles’, Joel opened it and displayed a soft pink painted bedroom that Iris was going to absolutely adore. “For baby girl.”

“Which means this has to be our room, right?” you asked, reaching for the door across from your daughter's room. “Little close, no?”

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head and entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He made a lot of noise, or at least that’s what you assumed from his heavy feet jumping on the hardwood floors, but you couldn’t hear much of anything. When he emerged, he was breathless and smiling. “Hear anything?”

“Felt you jumping around, but no,” you grinned. “You soundproofed it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Took me a while to get it right but…we can make all the noise we want now.”

“Well,” you began, sliding your hands up his chest as you batted your eyes at him. “Why don’t we give it a proper go?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss you teasingly, forcing you to seek more of his mouth in yours. “Come on,” he rasped, tugging you into the bedroom. “There’s one more surprise on the tour before I can get you naked. Go take a look in the bathroom.”

You did as you were told, leaving him by the bed to walk into the en-suite. You gasped at the clawfoot tub perched by a large bay window, looking out at the garden of flowers he’d planted.

“Joel…you—“ You shook your head, eyes now raining tears as you stood in the middle of the bathroom. Joel laughed and came over to hold you as you buried your face in his chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby,” he chuckled, amused by your reaction. “You like it, I take it?”

“Like it?” you lifted your head and shocked him with the amount of tears soaking your eyes. “I’m about to get down on my knees.”

“You can get down on your knees after I get my fill, how about that?” he husked against your cheek as he kissed your tears. “Go lay down on the bed, baby. Everything off.”

You didn’t waste any time in obeying, practically skipping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Your shoes and jeans came off first, then your top, and finally your undergarments before you climbed onto the mattress to test it out. Joel walked in but remained patient at the foot of the bed as you laid in the center of the mattress, beckoning him closer with the curl of your finger. Joel grinned and peeled his t-shirt off before slowly, painfully slowly, undoing his belt and jeans.

“Roll over,” he commanded. “Wanna see somethin’.”

“I wonder, what ever could that be?” you joked, rolling onto your stomach and instinctively arching your ass into the air. Joel’s knees dipped the mattress as he crawled onto the bed behind you, his hands gripping the globes of your ass as he let out a groan.

“So pretty like this,” he hummed before surprising you with a broad lick up the seam of your cunt. “My country girl.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, just don’t stop.” Joel laughed at your plea but obliged, licking you again. He kept at it, his tongue greedily and filthily lapping up every inch of you it could find before tensing and burying into your cunt while his fingers rubbed circles over your clit.

“Mm,” he hummed as he pulled away for a moment to speak. “There’s a gift for you in the nightstand. Why don’t you have a look?”

You chuckled hesitantly and crawled over the mattress to reach into the nightstand on your side of the bed, finding a long black box inside. You pulled it out and turned over to sit, facing Joel as he sat on his ankles at the foot of the bed. “Open it.”

“Is this—“ You silenced yourself by opening the box, your eyes taking in the sight of one of those wands you’d been desperately dropping hints about wanting to try out. “Oh, baby. You’ve got competition now.”

“Oh, do I?” he smirked, crawling to lay over you, forcing your head to rest back against the pillows. “That’s alright. Gettin’ too old to do all that work anyways. Might as well take all the help I can get.”

“You know you’ll always have one thing no one else has,” you purred, reaching to stroke his cock as it rested on your belly. “They couldn’t replicate this if they tried.”

“Mm,” he smiled against you. “You’re just flatterin’ me now.”

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head. “It’s perfect. The way you fill me up, the way it feels inside. I’ll never get enough.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined against your jaw as he nibbled there. “Turn it on, wanna get you ready to take me. So damn hard for you, can’t even think.”

You flipped on the vibrator, gasping at the power behind it while Joel simply groaned.

“Go on,” he urged. “Press it to your clit, baby.”

“Fuck,” you hissed as you lowered it to your bundle of nerves, the whir of the vibrations making your thighs tense and jerk, but Joel’s hips stopped them from closing.

“Does it feel good?” he asked against your pulse as he kissed the skin there.

“Yes,” you panted. “But I want you.”

“Not ‘til you cum,” he replied, trailing his fingers down your belly, past the vibrator, and into your soaked entrance. You let out an animalistic moan, something primal and so unlike yourself. “God, baby,” he moaned against you as he curled his fingers up towards that dizzying spot inside. “You don’t make those noises for me. Maybe I do got competition.”

“Joel,” you whined, unsure of what to say or how to describe how good it felt to have him inside you along with this gift of an invention. “Please. Please.”

“Cum on my fingers,” he ordered, low and dark and right into your ear. “Then I’ll give you what you want.”

As if your body had simply been awaiting the order, you came immediately, squeezing him as you writhed beneath his weight, the vibrator turned off and tossed across the bed. Joel slid into you while you were still clenching around nothing, your breath getting knocked out of your lungs at the force of his thrusts inside. You felt like you transcended into some sinful sort of heaven, one where only you and Joel resided.

“God, baby,” he whined, his arms slid beneath the arch of your back to hug you tight as he pounded into you. “So fuckin’ wet. God, I need to cum. Been too long.”

“Those fuckin’ kids,” you managed a joke, earning a laugh before he found his rhythm again.

“Baby, fuck,” he warned, his voice as wrecked as yours as you screamed his name into the empty home, your nails scratching down his back as you begged him to let you cum again, as if he ever denied you. “Go on,” he urged, sitting up on his knees to watch his cock disappear into you only to come out covered in your shine. “Fuck, come on. Cum for me. Right fuckin’ now, baby.”

“Oh!” you screamed, again unlike yourself, and clawed at his arms for purchase as your orgasm hit so hard it might have been painful if it hadn’t felt so fucking good. “Joel, please, please, please. Cum inside me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his face scrunched up as he watched himself let go into your pussy, his eyes glued to where you were connected while pulsed inside of you with a deep growl. When he pulled out, he quickly lowered himself to the mattress and nestled between your thighs, fucking his spend back into you with his finger while his tongue swiped round and round over your clit until you were begging him to stop. “Too much?”

“For now,” you grinned. “How much longer do we have until we have to get back on the road?”

“I’d say a couple hours,” he replied, sated but a hint of mischief in his voice. “We could always try out that new bath.”

“God, I love you.” You pulled him up and kissed deeply. “So glad you showed up to that parent teacher conference.”

“Thank you for givin’ Sarah and I a family again,” he whispered. “I love you so much, baby. I—gonna get me all choked up. I love you.”

“I love you.”

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[surrogate-fawn]

End of Term (NYC College AU)

Part 1 of 2

(Link to Part 2 will appear here when posted)

Summary: Fawn is a small-town girl from West Virginia trying to find her future in the Big Apple. She's left everything from her past behind her . . . or so she thinks. During her final exams, Fawn is completely unaware that she's been pregnant since before the semester began -- and her labor has started. As her discomfort grows more intense throughout the day, Fawn gets a little closer to discovering the cause of it. Hopefully, it doesn't take her too long to figure it out.

((This story features Newt, who belongs to @mittysins.))

TW: Cryptic pregnancy, graphic bodily descriptions, implications of past abuse, emotionally traumatic birth experience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I still wasn't used to the subway trains. Sitting on one was like riding an elevator sideways during an earthquake. The g-force of every start and stop made my stomach lurch, and I still almost flew outta my seat every time. I could expect to be a little queasy by the time Newt and I reached our last stop -- and that was when I didn't wake up sick.

"Bleh. I blame YOU for this!" I text messaged Newt, despite the fact he was sitting a few seats over. He was sitting in our usual spot, but that morning I needed to sit in the back corner, where I could curl up and rest against the wall.

I saw Newt check his phone from the corner of my eye, and seconds later I got his reply: "How is indigestion MY fault?"

"I didn't even want takeout until YOU asked for it." I was sure to put a goofy emoji at the end of the message to show I was being sarcastic.

"Sorry. Cravings." Newt replied. A second later he sent a gif of a cartoon cat shrugging.

I leaned over and met his eyes with a deliberately exaggerated frown. There were several strangers sitting between us, and I probably looked crazy -- but what else was new in this city? I hit 'send', and watched Newt check his phone. I delighted in his held back snicker when he saw the giant picture of a middle finger on his screen.

That morning marked the start of our first finals week as freshman at Queens College. Newt and I had stayed up as late as possible, doing some last-minute study cramming at my apartment. Now that Newt was entering his second trimester, he was trading in his morning sickness for late-night cravings of Chinese food -- specifically steamed dumplings with fried rice (but it had to be plain rice, he'd cried when I'd accidentally ordered the pork rice).

"You're a bad influence on me, lol. I need to stop joining in on your craving binges." I hugged my backpack tighter to my stomach as my guts cramped again.

"I'm not the one who ordered two boxes of sesame chicken and three extra egg rolls." Newt retorted. A second later: "Not to mention the lo mein."

"The lo mein was supposed to be for lunch today! >:("

"Ye right. ;)"

Fine, yeah, I'd overdone it last night. I could barely contain myself around food anymore. Ever since I'd arrived in New York City that past summer, I'd been overeating. I guess I was eating my emotions. The stress had been piling up all fuckin' semester!

Moving from the suburbs of West Virginia to such a huge city had my nerves fried by the time I settled into my teeny-tiny apartment that was more expensive than a house back home. Stacked on that was the anxiety of starting school. Stacked on that was the fact my roommate, Makayla, refused to do her share of chores. Stacked on that was homesickness. Stacked on that was studying enough to not lose my scholarship. Then stacked on all of that, my one and only friend in this city was dealing with an unplanned pregnancy.

If my next-door neighbor hadn't been Newt, I'd still be floundering. Without a doubt. We clicked at first sight, as if we'd known each other in a past life. He was my lifeline. Newt had lived in Manhattan all his life, but Queens College was the only local school within his budget and that's how we'd ended up in the same off-campus student housing. He was the one that taught me street-smarts -- which roads to avoid at night, where the best Mom-and-Pop restaurants were, how to hail a cab, and how to read the hieroglyphics that were the subway maps. Although we'd only been friends for barely a month when he knocked on my door with a positive pregnancy test and tears in his eyes, I'd never thought twice about being his shoulder to cry on and his hand to hold.

I didn't care if worrying over him added to the stress of my new life here, it was a worry I gladly carried.

But it seemed all that stress was finally catching up to me.

As the train came to another screaming halt, I was twisting myself into a pretzel. My stomach was cramping again, straining hard to move along the mountain of food I'd eaten twelve hours earlier. The doors slid open, and several passengers I recognized as fellow students stood up. Newt joined them, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder and plucking the air pods out of his ears. I knew I needed to get up, but my legs needed a few extra seconds of convincing.

"You good?" Newt asked as he watched me lift myself off the seat in segments.

"I'm fine," I said, walking with him onto the platform. "I just hope that Pepto kicks in soon."

"How many exams you got today?"

"Three," I groaned, my head falling back on my shoulders. "Chemistry, biology, and that stupid-ass remedial algebra class."

"Ha! I've only got two," Newt gloated, pausing to zip up his oversized red jacket.

"Uh-huh, but don't you have to wait eight hours between them?"

"Gives me plenty of time to study," he said as we continued up the station stairs. The sonofabitch was talking like he hadn't been complaining all week about his morning class and evening class having the same exam day.

"Please," I smirked, rolling my eyes, "I know you're just gonna play The Sims 4 on your laptop."

We both shivered as we walked out of the muggy underground and into the biting cold winds coming off the harbor. I pulled my hood over my head and pulled the drawstrings tighter around my neck.

"You can't prove anything," Newt grinned, his breath coming out as a soft cloud.

I gave him a comedically unamused look. "You're pregnant, so I'm not gonna hit you."

Newt chuckled and placed his hand over the small, four-month bump that was hiding under his jacket. "Thanks for the save, kiddo."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk to campus was only two blocks, but it felt like I was forcing myself to trudge through mud. I regretted ordering so much food. Clearly, I hadn't learned my lesson, yet.

My overeating the last few months had me in a constant state of bloat. It always felt like a giant water balloon was sitting right on my guts. I was peeing every few minutes, my kidneys working overtime to get rid of the extra fluid I was holding. Gas bubbles were always rolling through me, too. They were mostly just annoying blips of movement but recently they'd gotten painful.

The worst were the large pockets of air that got trapped under my ribs. They would stay there for hours sometimes, making it excruciating to breathe. Nothing in the world could help me when I got like that; I just had to go about my day in agony and wait until the pressure spreading my ribs apart decided to move along.

By now, I was kinda used to functioning while my intestines were trying to kill me; but, God, they were trying extra hard that day.

My stomachache flared up right outside the library, the shortcut I took to get to chemistry class. I sat down on a bench, gripping the edge of the seat and trying not to double over. My sides ached, and a deep stabbing pain plunged deep inside my abdomen. The invisible knife twisted, and I realized I was holding my breath.

"Fawn?"

I looked up at Newt, who had doubled back to check on me. His first class was on the other side of campus, and the library was where our daily routes split for most of the day.

"I'll be fine," I said, waving him away. "I'll buy a soda at lunch. That usually helps."

Newt glanced over his shoulder, down the path he was supposed to take, and then stepped a little closer. "I won't be out of here until five. Don't wait up for me, okay? When you're done with exams, just go home."

"Yeah, I will," I nodded. "That sounds good."

Newt nodded back, looking a lot more at ease. "Is it okay if I come over with some soup later? I found a new recipe online and it looks really good!"

"That's fine," I said, stretching my arms over my head to loosen up my torso. "Just use your key. I'll see 'ya then, bud."

"See you then." He gave me a two-fingered salute and continued on his way.

I checked the time on my phone and sighed. I had to get moving again, or else I'd have half my final exam score deducted for being late. My chemistry professor was a real stickler for being on-time.

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I'd moved to New York City to finally get my degree in Botany & Plant Science. It'd been my dream for a while to become a researcher and study the pharmaceutical use of plants. Having a pair of old hippies as parents will inspire that interest in 'ya. Queens College was the best scholarship I could get out-of-state, and I had to be out-of-state. I just had to be.

I already had trouble fitting in with my classmates as a "mature" undergrad student. Since when was twenty-nine considered too "mature" for college?! All of my subjects were basic introductory courses, and that meant I was surrounded by fresh-faced teenagers less than a year out of high school. Even Newt wasn't that young. He'd taken a few years off before college, but apparently twenty-four was still young enough to fit in with the crowd.

At least not having any classroom friends meant I was left alone that morning. I sat in my assigned seat and watched the rest of the students file in from the hallway. The desk allowed me to hunch down when my stomach clenched again, the muscles in my abs pinching hard. I crossed my legs and bounced my foot, trying to distract myself from the storm brewing inside me as the professor laid out the rules of the exam period.

I was in pain for that entire hour. It was hard to keep up with the time limit. I had to pause on several multiple-choice questions -- sometimes because they were challenging, other times because the stabbing, twisting pain was flaring up. I began fantasizing about how good I'd feel after I was able to get my hands on a soda, and that daydream carried me through.

Shockingly, I was one of the first students to stand up -- and I'd finished with barely eleven minutes to spare. My professor nodded at me as I placed my exam packet on his desk, and he quietly wished me a good winter break as I shuffled out the door.

Freedom at last! There were about two hours to kill before my biology exam, so I was sure with a light snack and some rest I'd be feeling better by then.

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I'd worked hard to build up enough of a nest egg to live off in New York. I'd squirreled money away for three years in a secret bank account, and lied to Alexander about how much my hourly pay was. My scholarship covered only part of my housing costs, and I knew living off savings couldn't last all four years of school. However, I was not going to stress over buying a three-dollar root beer when it felt like I was being wrung like a washcloth.

The dining hall at Queens was a glorified cafeteria: fold-out tables, plastic chairs, too much noise and not enough space. I really wasn't hungry, but I knew if I skipped out on lunch I would regret it later. So, I stopped by the Nathan's stand to grab a hotdog and bag of plain potato chips to go with my large cup of carbonated medicine.

I made do with sitting at the empty end of a crowded table, where the huddle of dudes at the other end were playing Magic: the Gathering. That stuff was more Newt's scene than mine, so I put my earbuds in and pulled up the YouTube app on my phone.

The Peanuts Christmas special played on my screen as I nibbled on chips and washed the salt away with long swigs of root beer. I was hoping to summon a little Christmas spirit to help me not feel so dead inside. It was two weeks away, and it was the little candy-red cherry atop my mountain of things to worry about. Between hesitant bites of hotdog, I wondered how I could pry some gift ideas out of Newt last-minute. I'd already gotten him an Amazon gift card, but I wanted to get him something a little more per-.

I sucked a sharp breath through my nostrils, choking on half-chewed bread as my stomach cramped again. It didn't feel the same as the hundreds of other cramps I'd been having. This one was bad. It was really. Fucking. Bad! I curled up in the seat, my hands dipping inside my hoodie pocket to press against my stomach. Even through three layers of clothing, I could feel my muscles clenching.

And it just wouldn't stop. Most of them would fade after a few seconds, but this one just kept going. I doubled over, pressing on my belly and praying the pain would stop.

And then it stopped.

I sat up straight and looked around. No one nearby was paying any attention, but my freckles turned pink anyway as I quickly rose and tossed what was left of my food in the trash. I chugged the rest of the soda.

There were still two exams to go, but I was already checked out for the day. I knew there was a bottle of cupcake vodka leftover from Makayla's birthday party last month. Mixed in a milkshake, that stuff had been sweet enough to give me both a sugar high and a buzz. Maybe if the soda didn't do the trick I'd go home and try soothing my stomach with one of those. I deserved one already, and it wasn't even noon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It hurt to be upright.

My biology exam was half lab work and half a written test. The class was split into two groups: one to do the lab first, and one to do the written exam first. Guess which one I was in.

I was white-knuckling that clipboard as I quietly shuffled from one specimen sample to the next. Identify this bone. Identify that leaf. Is this a rock or a fossil? I was rocking my weight from side-to-side as subtly as I could. The cramping hadn't eased up since lunch. I was feeling this one down to the soles of my feet and keeping 'em moving was the only way I could stay standing.

At the apex of the cramp, I grit my teeth as a new pain bloomed deep inside my hips. I leaned my weight over the table, disguising the motion as trying to get a better look at a specimen. A knife-like stab hit my cervix and the ache radiated between my legs.

Ah, okay. I knew that kind of pain, even if it'd been a while.

No wonder the indigestion was so bad. I always got an upset stomach the day my period was due to start. 'Course, I could never tell when I was due. I tried tracking them, but ever since puberty they'd been on a schedule of their own. My cycles had been mild spotting for most of that year, so I figured there was a mighty buildup of Mother Nature in there that was trying to come out. No wonder I was already cramping so hard.

Oh, boy . . . and from my experience, I could tell I was in for a world of hurt once I actually started bleedin'.

I made it through the written half of the exam free of carnage. The pain was somehow easier to deal with when I knew it was all just hormones. At the water fountain down the hall, I popped a few ibuprofen out of my purse and downed them. There, now I knew I'd be feeling better once those puppies kicked in.

Another two hours, and I'd be free to go home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was relaxing on a sofa in the library when I suddenly felt a pouring wetness in the crotch of my pants. Ah, fuck. Fuck!

I left my backpack behind in a panic and speed-walked to the nearest restroom. I subtly pulled my hoodie as far over my hips as possible, hoping to hide anything that leaked through my sweatpants as I shuffled past other quietly studying students. I cussed myself out in my head for not thinking to put on a pad as soon as I started cramping.

Once I was hidden away in a stall, I inspected the damage. My underwear was damp with a watery pink discharge as well as several dark red clots. Yes, some of it had seeped through my pants, but not enough to be noticeable. I could still feel it dripping down into the toilet as I tried to clean everything up.

All it took was that first drop of blood for the cramps to reach their full strength. That was always the case when I missed a few periods. I pressed my lips together to stop a groan from escaping as I doubled over and hugged my midsection. My entire torso throbbed and clenched inward. My toes curled inside my sneakers as the pain once again trickled down to the soles of my feet. My jaw locked up as I grit my teeth against the pain, and I felt a charlie horse starting in the back of my neck.

Everything. Fucking. HURT.

The cramp left me feeling slightly weak. It didn't just disappear, it just . . . settled back into my muscles as a soft, constant ache. I held a wad of toilet paper between my legs for a few seconds, and in that short amount of time it was soaked in pastel pink. The floodgates had opened, and it wasn't going to stop. This pink discharge was no doubt going to become a full red tide by the time I got home.

I returned to the couch wearing a cheap cotton pad from the restroom vending machine. Although it wasn't smart, I swallowed two more ibuprofen dry. I sat curled up in the corner of the sofa, killing the last forty minutes before my exam watching videos on my phone.

The cramps just kept coming. I kept feeling blood gushing out of me and into the pad. My labia were constantly throbbing, and not in the good way. Every time I cramped, it felt like I was being turned inside out.

I seriously considered blowing off my algebra exam. I would fail the class, but I could just re-take it next semester, right? Maybe I could re-schedule the final if I brought in a doctor's note? Well, fuck . . . no, I couldn't do that. My health insurance wouldn't fully cover an emergency room visit and I doubted a doctor's note from three days after the final would be able to save my sorry ass.

Besides, I hated remedial algebra so much I felt nauseous at the thought of doing it again. I was just gonna have to suck it up and get through it like everyone else. Then, I wouldn't have to think about anything else until tomorrow.

God, why me?! Why today of all days to start the worst period in the history of mankind?!

I wondered if there was some cosmic deity out there who was taking joy in my suffering. If so, at least this pain was good for something in the grand scheme of things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the biting December air, I felt sweat dripping down my back as I trudged across campus to attend my last exam. It hurt to walk. It hurt to stand. Hell, it just hurt to exist. I made myself keep a steady pace, although my body was demanding I stop with every cramp. When that telltale stabbing would start in my lower back, all I wanted to do was lay on the floor and cry; but I was a grown-up, and I had grown -up stuff to do.

When I sat at my desk, my hips jolted up as if the hard plastic seat had burned me. I let out an involuntary gasp of pain, and my face burned in embarrassment as everyone turned to look at me. I started a chesty cough to disguise the sound.

I hadn't noticed it when sitting on the plush couch, but my labia were ungodly swollen and sore. This was not something that usually happened during my period. I knew my hormones were way out of whack this time around, so . . . maybe it was some weird hormonal reaction?

Whatever it was, it wasn't making the exam any easier.

My whole weight was sitting square on my pelvis in that uncomfortable classroom desk, and it was torture. I tried sitting as far back as I could to take the pressure off, but that just made my tailbone hurt, too.

My pencil slipped in my wet palm as I desperately tried to fill the bubbles in on my scantron sheet. I wriggled my hips, trying in vain to find a way to sit that didn't hurt like hell. Sweat began to drip from under my sports bra beneath my layers of clothing. It was taking everything in my power not to beg my professor to let me take the exam while lying on the floor. Fuck, I'd even do it standing on my head -- anything to get the pressure off my poor vagina.

Ten minutes in I decided to leave my final grade up to fate. I was in so much pain, I no longer cared if I failed the class. I chose my answers based on educated guesses, skipping the solving process entirely.

I was staggering to my feet within twenty minutes, and my professor gave me a scowl when he saw my worksheet hardly had any equations written on it. He leaned in as I placed my scantron on his desk.

"I hope you know you've wasted your time," he whispered, glowering at me from under his bi-focals. "You may as well have not showed up."

The only answer I could offer was a nod. I hurried into the hallway, tears blurring my vision.

I knew I'd wasted my time. I knew I'd fucked myself over. The further I walked down the hall, the more I regretted not trying harder.

I threw the test after ten fuckin' minutes, just so I could go home and be lazy. I wasn't sick, I was just on my period! What sorry excuse was that for wasting tuition money? There were probably dozens of other students in the same amount of pain I was in, but they weren't throwing away their grades over it. God, I was pathetic. I was so determined to pass this stupid remedial class at the start of the semester, even if it was with a 'C', but in ten minutes I'd given up.

Maybe Alex was right. Maybe I was just too damn stupid to be here.

By the time I stepped outside, I was crying. I pulled up my hood to hide the tears and kept my head down as I began the long walk off campus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The noon train wasn't as packed as the seven o'clock train, but it was still too full for my liking. That was what I hated about the city; you couldn't go anywhere without brushing shoulders with a stranger.

There were available seats, but I couldn't sit down. My lower lips were throbbing with my heartbeat. I had my arm wrapped around a standing bar, clinging for dear life against the g-forces of the train. My stance had to be wider than natural, or else my thighs would pinch and cause a hot, pulsating pain through my stomach. I knew I probably looked like a drunk trying to hold themselves up against gravity, but I reminded myself that New Yorkers see things like that on the trains all the time. No one would say anything as long as I kept to myself. My hood was still up to hide the leaks in my eyes, the flow of tears I couldn't fully control.

I clung tighter to the bar as I cramped again, and a warm gush soaked into the pad between my legs. My eyes dripped as they stared off into nothing, my mind going blank from the pain. A sudden "buzz-buzz" from the phone in my pocket brought me back from the void. I blinked my vision clear and checked the text message. It was from Newt, replying to a text I'd sent earlier:

"Sorry ur feeling so shit :( You going home?"

I rested my temple against the smudged chrome pole and typed my reply:

"On the train now."

Three grey dots appeared below my message.

Buzz-buzz.

"Still want me to come over??"

I replied: "Yeah. Makayla's with her boyfriend for the week and I need distraction."

Grey dots. Buzz-buzz.

"Awww poor bb. A whole apartment all to yourself. Glad I'm not THAT unlucky. /s "

I grinned and dried half my face on my shoulder. Newt had never fit in with his roommate's group of frat boy sports fans. Just like I had never gelled with Makayla's crowd of hardcore party girls. They weren't "bad" people, they were just . . . not "our" people.

"We need new roommates," I typed.

Dots. Buzz-buzz.

"Ye."

I felt another huge gush, and my thighs pressed together in response. My inner cheek bled as my teeth chopped through it. Fuck. Forgot to not do that.

That cheap pad didn't feel like it was gonna hold up much longer. The last thing I needed was to reenact the elevator scene from The Shining in front of two dozen strangers on the subway. I pulled my hoodie further over my hips, just in case.

"Fair warning," I typed, "my apartment might be a bloodbath by the time you get there."

Dots. Buzz-buzz.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!"

"Omfg."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ohhh my fucking god."

I angled my lower back into the stream of hot water, pressing my hands into the glass wall of the shower. I hung my head as my body gradually clamped down on itself like a vice, tighter . . . tighter . . . tighter. Now that I was safely inside the privacy of my apartment, I could finally deal with the pain how I wanted: whining like a 'lil bitch.

"Ohhh my fucking god," I repeated, the sentence crawling out of my mouth as a slurred moan.

The water splashed pink at my feet. A few dime-sized globs of red fell onto the shower mat and were washed away. My pad had been soaked through with that thin pink discharge, but hardly any real blood. My body must've been trying to break my uterus open like a piggy bank to get out what it needed, because I felt like I was dying.

"God," I dragged the word out for a solid minute in a deep, angry groan as I sank to my knees. I ran out of breath, but the pain kept going. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and pitched forward, eyelids pinched shut and teeth open in a gaping snarl. The muscles in my torso vibrated with tension. It was hard to breathe, my ribs too tight to get a full breath. The air I managed to suck in came back out as another drawn-out groan: "Fuck."

I'd been trying for hours to ease the cramping and indigestion that were teaming up to kill me. I'd taken enough ibuprofen to drop a horse. I'd taken Pepto-Bismol like shots of tequila. Heating pads had helped, but not for long. I'd put an ice pack between my legs to bring down the swelling, but the ice stung. I'd turned the temperature as high as I could tolerate and was now face-down on the shower floor, letting the water hit anywhere it could reach. My skin was scalded red, but the iota of relief I got was worth it.

Knock, knock, knock. Three solid knocks on the bathroom door.

I knelt there with my cheek in a puddle of water, too engulfed in pain to react.

"Soup delivery!" A cheery tenor voice on the other side, somewhat drowned by the water rolling over my ears.

Newt? What was he doing here? He didn't leave school until five. Shit, what time was it? How long had I been home?

I lifted myself onto my elbows, blowing out a long breath as I waited for the pain to fade. As soon as it did, I called loud enough for Newt to hear me over the roar of the shower:

"I'll be out in a sec. Just put everything in the kitchen."

"M'kay."

I didn't hear Newt walk away, but I heard his heavy crockpot being set on the counter -- the kitchen shared a wall with the bathroom. God, that apartment was tiny.

Ugh. I had to get up. I'd been in there too long. The water was turning cold. My hands and feet were pruney. I had to get up. I had to get up.

I climbed up the slick glass wall, leaving smeared handprints in the condensation. The higher I stood on my feet, the worse I felt; but if you'd asked me to describe how, I wouldn't have known what to say. I steadied myself, turned the water off, and opened the shower door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a fresh bowl waiting for me on the counter as I stepped into the kitchen, but I didn't have an appetite.

"Don't like it?" Newt asked, serving himself a helping of soup from the crockpot.

My hair was hanging limp around my face and shoulders, dripping water like the branches of a weeping willow; but the droplets rolling down my neck weren't water. A sticky layer of sweat was coating my back and my legs beneath my plush winter pajamas. The bowl of homemade French onion soup sat untouched and steaming in front of me.

"No, it looks good," I said. "I just don't really feel like eat--ugh!" Another cramp started and this time I didn't hold back a moan of pain. "Augh!"

Newt set his bowl on the stove and took a few soft-footed steps towards me. "Does your period usually hurt like this?" he asked, rubbing his hand over my back.

I shook my head and braced my hands against the counter, unable to answer him with words. I tried to speak, but my mouth would only allow a series of small moans and gasps as the pain went on and on and on and -- fuck, this wasn't right! It had been almost a year since my last full bleed, but there was no way in hell this level of pain was normal!

I leaned over the counter, rocking my hips in a fruitless bid to shake away the twisting, stabbing, squeezing pain. As I struggled to fill my lungs with air, my mind scrambled for answers. Was this what endometriosis felt like? A cyst rupturing? A fibroid? Oh my god, what if it was a tumor?!

I felt more fluid dripping in globs onto my pad, and I let out a sob. "It feels so bad!" I whimpered to my friend, tears coming to my eyes. "I just . . . just want it to stop!" My lower back suddenly felt like it was going to break, and I let out another sob as my knees began to give out under me.

Newt saw me falling and he acted quick. His arms hooked under my shoulders, and he arched his back to try and keep me standing.

"Woah, hey!" he cried as he caught me in a low crouch, just before I'd hit the ground. "What's wrong?!"

My first thought was to tell him to put me down. He shouldn't be straining himself like that, and I worried about him even through the blinding pain. I opened my mouth to scold him, but that's when it happened. I will never forget the moment it happened.

A huge weight began to sit on my lower bowels, and I swear to god I thought my guts were going to fall out. A tsunami wave of nausea rolled up from that horrible sinking pressure and hit my stomach like a geyser. I dry heaved and sank lower to the floor as my mind was overtaken by one silent demand:

Push!

"Newt-!" was all I managed to gasp.

And then I was bearing down with all my strength.

I'd never felt anything more intense in my life. It was an unholy demon pressing down on me, and I had no choice but to submit.

A scream -- a full, honest-to-god scream -- ripped itself free of my throat. I rested just long enough to inhale, and then I was pushing again, my chin pressed to my chest. I felt a shift deep inside, pressing against my lower spine. Something was prying me open. Something was slipping its way down.

I screamed again as the realization finally dawned on me: Something was coming out!

"Fawn?!" I heard his frantic voice, but my vision was haloed in black. "Fawn, talk to me!"

I held onto Newt as my lifeline, until I ran out of the strength to push anymore. "Help me!" I panted, hugging him closer. "God, please help me!"

"What is it?!"

"I'm fucking turning inside out!" I cried, growling as I pushed the object lower into my pelvis.

At first, I was convinced my colon or something was about to pop out like a fucked up horror movie; but I felt the object heading to a different area of my body. I could feel my swollen labia pushing out into my pad.

"Augh, I think it's my uterus!" I sobbed as I strained -- unable to stop myself in both regards. "That's what's falling out!"

"What the fuck?!" Newt cried. "That can happen?!"

"Yes!"

"Oh, shit!" Newt jumped up and began circling the kitchen. "Where the hell is my phone?! I'm calling 9-1-1!"

"Please fucking do!" I yelled, dropping to all fours as Newt hurried to look for his phone in the living room.

Forbidding myself to push was like forbidding myself to breathe. It simply had to happen. Tears flowed from my eyes as I was forced to push out one of my own internal organs. Not just any organ, the one that would end my dream of having a family once it was gone.

This was hell. I was in hell.

My hips tried to jerk away from the pain as the object began to force itself though my vagina. I felt the object pressing against my pad as I pushed, and I wondered if it would be enough to hold it in. Maybe if I could somehow keep it inside me, the doctors would be able to pull it back in.

The next push told me I had no other choice but it let it out. What was happening was happening fast. Too fast. Too fast! Oh, fuck! I felt my skin yawn open and pull tight, creating a hellish burn that made me scream myself hoarse.

I hiked my pants down and craned my neck to see between my legs. The first thing I saw was a long strand of pink-red mucous clinging to my bulging lips for a few seconds, before dripping down onto the pad at my knees.

I saw a hint of something beginning to breech out of me. It was fleshy and covered in blood. It was somewhat blue colored and wrinkled, and I was terrified. My inside-out uterus was coming out of me, and I couldn't bear the sight.

I shut my eyes tight and screamed through another huge push. I had a flash of the thought: "Since when was my uterus this big? Isn't it supposed to be small?" But it was gone before I could dwell on it.

Newt's footsteps ran back into the kitchen.

"Okay, I found-."

Both his voice and his footsteps came to a screeching halt as they entered the room. I heard something drop to the ground, and it sounded like the heavy-duty casing Newt kept on his cellphone.

"Holy fucking shit . . . !" Newt's voice was muffled, as if he was pressing his hand to his mouth.

"If it's really bad, don't tell me," I begged through gritted teeth, a small sob jolting my shoulders.

Newt didn't say anything, but I heard him drop to his knees in front of me. I opened my eyes and saw him spreading a hand towel from the sink over his lap.

"It's not that bad," he said, taking my arms and adjusting them so I was holding onto his shoulders. His voice was uncanny -- it was obvious he was pretending to be calm.

Newt draped the towel over his hands and my heart dropped.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked.

"Don't worry. I've got you covered," he said. "Just push."

"Newt?" I asked, turning my face towards his. My heart was starting to pound behind my eyes. "What's happening to me?"

I didn't see him smile, but his tone remained steady. "It'll be okay, Fawn. I promise."

I gripped his arms tighter as another pain started. "Oh god, I'm dying, aren't I?" I groaned. I wasn't even scared at the thought -- at this point, death felt like the only end to this pain. I'd all but accepted it.

"You're not dying, Fawn," Newt said, brushing his cheek against mine. His fledging facial hair tickled. "You're fine, you just need to push."

Sighing, I lowered my forehead to his shoulder and followed my body's demands. The stretch continued, grew worse by the second, until something round and squishy slipped out and dangled between my thighs.

God, it was finally over.

All we had to do was call an ambulance and they could take me to surgery. However this happened, there was still a chance my uterus could be saved. My dream didn't have to be - !

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck, I was still pushing!

I screamed into Newt's body as my burning lips spread further over something wide for a few white-hot seconds. There was a disgusting splash that gushed over my inner thighs, followed by the softest little 'plop'.

I was empty. I felt hollow and numb. My body buzzed, but it felt dead. I was left gasping in deep breaths to steady my racing heart, staring off into nothing over Newt's shoulder. My eyes burned from sweat pouring down my brow.

"Fawn," Newt said -- his voice sounded miles away, "look."

"I don't wanna look at it," I sighed, wiping my face on my sleeve.

That's when she cried for the first time.

A warbled little mewl flew up to meet my ears.

I looked down, in the space between Newt and I . . . and I screamed.

A blue cord of flesh was hanging between my legs, coated in blood. It trailed down in a soft arch to the towel sitting on Newt's lap, where I saw the answer to every question I'd had that day.

Laying there between Newt's hands, squirming and screaming and blue, was a wrinkly newborn baby.

She was a girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End of Part 1 of 2

Author's Note: Thank you for reading Part 1! This is by far the longest fic I've written thus far. It's so long that I had to split it into two chapters! Part 2 will be available very soon. This story will be available on my AO3 page, just like all of my other fics! Feel free to follow me or any of my stories there under the same name.

[constellationguy]

That Radio Show

Summary: In the absence of the radio demon listeners of hell find a new broadcast to enjoy.

Chapter three

Chapter one: The New Voice On the Air

Every child dreams to be famous when they grow up, you were no different. When you were younger you wanted nothing more than to have your voice heard from all corners of the globe, to be heard on every radio station, to have your voice ring in the ears of millions of people. You took countless vocal lessons as a kid to prepare you for audition after audition, however very little came from it. Until in high school, you landed a job with your local radio station and fell in love with the art form. You worked almost full time despite school work piling up, the high of being live on air was worth barely passing a class or two. You did school work while music played on air when you weren’t speaking, it was the best job in the world in your book and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Eventually you took over the station after you graduated, working from 5:30am to 6:00 in the afternoon on most days, but night shifts always had the best callers and the warmest ambiance. You pored your heart and soul into your work until you died in a freak hunting accident in 2017.

When you arrived in hell you had dear like qualities, “I guess getting shot like game turned you into game in the after life” you thought looking at your new doe like features. Being new to hell was such an uncomfortable feeling, however you tried to get yourself in your feet as soon as possible. You spent about half a year working in a tailor shop getting yourself a house and a phone. Once you got enough money you finally got yourself an office and radio equipment to start broadcasting within the month. To advertise the radio station you made a hellstagram account just simply named “That Radio Show”. Your bio stated “That Radio Show will be making its debut on station 66.62 fm on the air in 2 weeks time at 5:30am on XX,XX, 2017! Be sure to tune in and maybe give us a call while on the air to chat at (666)-xxx-xxxx or send us mail to read on the air at xxxxx PO Box. Can’t wait to be on the air!”. You made posts advertising your debut, and asking your followers about ideas what to name your new radio show, and of course song suggestions. To your surprise your account went viral and got millions of followers in just a few days, your dms and comments filled with suggestions and surprisingly sweet comments with very little backlash. So when you debuted at 5:30am you had thousands of listeners tune in. Just as 5:30am graced hells residents, a sweet piano piece started to echo through the streets of hell. You lowered the volume just slightly hoping it would give just enough ambiance to your broadcast before speaking.

“Good morning residents of hell.” you said cautious of the volume of your voice.

“It is currently 5:30am in Pentagram City and for many it is time to start the day. As some of you may know this is the debut broadcast of That Radio Show!” You said excitedly.

“So please be sure to check out That Radio Show on hellstagram to send in song suggestions. As this is my first day on the air I hope my dear listeners can treat me with some grace” you hummed.

“Well, I’ll let those of you who got woken up by me go back to sleep and those waking up in peace for a bit, here is “I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire” by The Ink Spots”.

You then muted yourself before fading the piano music and changing it to the song. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held and smiled into your microphone. You spent about two hours introducing the next song in the broadcast order before you got your first call.

“That was “Let’s Do It” by Ella Fitzgerald. Such a sweet song this early in the morning don’t you think? Well-“ you were caught off guard by the phone ringing.

“It seems we have our first caller,” you answered the phone.

“Hello dear you’re on the air!”

“Oh darling!” a southern voice called through the phone.

“Your voice is just velvet to the ears of all of us in Cannibale Town, we are loving you down here darling! Keep up the tunes and let that voice shine.”

“Aw thank you dear,” you cooed into the microphone, “Such high praises on debut day, but nonetheless it is well appreciated.” Listeners could hear the smile in your voice and boy did it pull heart strings.

“Well of course darling, can’t let a beautiful voice go un-complemented, you have a good day now.” The lady said into the phone. “You too, Miss.” You exhaled, chuckling a bit, a smile evident in your tone.

“How sweet that was, ha, well it is currently 8:00am in Pentagram City and the weather is perfect for a morning walk. I hope you can take that opportunity and start your morning off right. This is “Je Te Leaisserai Des Mots” by Patrick Watson, hope you enjoy.” Once you muted yourself you practically squealed in joy with the blatant success of the radio show. Your hellstagram was full of comments praising your voice and pick if songs. The overwhelming support uncommon in hell was shocking and such a surprise, a welcome one though. You got a few more calls throughout the day, only one of them being rude and chastising radio for being an out of date media and flirting with you brazenly on the air.

“Oh that’s no way to speak to a lady, let alone live on air,” you cooed feigning innocence. You sent a devastatingly loud electroshock through the line and your callers line went dead as he fell to the floor.

“Oh dear it seems he hung up,” you chuckled “well- no matter, just remember dear listeners don’t be brazen and you won’t get shocked,” you said with edge in your voice. “Well, this is “Viola Sonata: 1. Largo” composed by Andrei Volkonsky.” You said giving out a light satisfying sigh. As the song closed your voice again rang in the heads of your listeners, “Well doesn’t that piece just tear at your terrible heart strings, such an erre sounding piece. How about something a bit lighter, this is “Bella Belle” by the Electric Swing Circus, hopefully a good dance will shake off any lingering weariness and tension, tune in and dance along, here’s Bella Belle”.

The rest of your day was rather uneventful.

“Well dear listeners, it is 6pm and my time on air is sadly up, don’t worry though. If you stay tuned into this station you’ll still hear music that I lined up to play until I get back tomorrow at 5:30am. Have a lovely evening sinners, I hope you all can tune in tomorrow.” You finally muted yourself for the last time today and leaded back into your chair sighing satisfied. You missed this feeling when you died. Well, no longer would you miss this feeling, you thought as you grab your things and left your office. Just as you locked up the owner of the building spawned behind you.

“SHIT-“ you yelled jumping and dropping your things.

“Such a jumpy thing you are,” the man teased to your annoyance. “You made a rise out of hell today toots, all the old souls have been craving a new voice to cling to after that old shit up and disappeared.” This man was just trying to get a rise out of you at this point but you indulged him, wouldn’t want to get kicked out of your office, he owned the building after all.

“Cut to the chase, what do you want,” you said shortly electricity dripping off your tongue.

“Oh I thought deer were jumpy and scarred things, never thought one would bite back so violently.” He said, voice full of tease and annoyance.

“Unless you are here to tell me about the this “old shit” of a senior I apparently have I would like to leave,” you said pushed through him going down the stair well.

“No need to be a bitch toots,” he called after you. You let it go for now, a little insults in exchange for a bit of information was a fair trade in your opinion.

After fixing yourself a meal you looked up your supposed senior, from what you could tell that “old shit” the building owner was talking about was the Radio Demon. He disappeared this year, a terrifying demon just up and left the public eye. From what you found online he was an overlord and a powerful one at that. He used is radio show is display his power, so this is what you were needed to live up to. Odd.

Chapter two: In the Eyes of the Public

With the radio demon’s disappearance there is less competition, you thought, though that’s a big role to fill for the public. No matter, you thought, you’ll learn to manage, he’ll be back soon… probably….

Everyday your influence on hell’s population grew, listening to your opinions and snide comments, hells older population absolutely fell in love with you. The younger population wasn’t to fond of radio as you were but, to each their own, as long as they keep their complaints between each other and not on your broadcast. As the months past the public grew fonder of you in the radio demons absence, you worry for his return but as months turn into years you worried less and less about him coming after you.

Well into your first year broadcasting you made a slip up that you somehow ended up in your favor.

“Good evening my dear listeners, it is currently 3:30pm in Pentagram City and this lovely winter has graced our dear city and lulled us into a somber mood. I can’t deny that I am not feeling it too so todays music is definitely in the feels today, here is “I’ll Never Smile Again” by Tommy Dorsey” you lowered a dial and muted yourself before sitting back and singing along to the music. Little did you know you turned down the songs volume and muted the piano you had playing in the background, not yourself. So as you listened to the light music and sang along to the sad tune all of hell could hear your voice. Many of your regular listeners simply enjoyed the show while newer listeners decided to record the song and it spread like wildfire, to your embarrassment.

You tried gloss over your mistake however hell seemed to love this little mishap and blew it way out of proportion. Soon enough your dear listeners began calling you “the princess of radio”. As much as you didn’t like the name at first, terrified for when the radio demon came back, it stuck and there was nothing you could do about it.

[laniuchiha7]

The Baker and The Farmer

During the weekly farmers market Naruto rushes over to the Uchiha Farms display clutching a bouquet of lilies in one hand and two pieces of honey cake in the other.

“A new bakery opened up in the town square!” Naruto informs Sasuke while eating one of the cakes. “The woman who owns it is at Ino’s stand handing out free samples to everyone who buys a flower arrangement.”

“Ok?” Sasuke isn’t sure why this matters since he’s not a fan of sweets nor does he have a reason for buying flowers.

“Here.” Naruto shoves the remaining confection at him. “Try it! I bet you’ll like it more than you think!”

Reluctantly, he takes a bite. Not bad, actually Sasuke thinks it’s really good. Still too sweet for his personal tastes, but he can tell someone who really cares about their craft made this. “It’s fine.”

“I’m gonna give these flowers to Hinata,” Naruto says. “The cute baker girl, Sakura I think her name is, mentioned coming around later and introducing herself to the other vendors later. She’s hard to miss so be nice to her, alright?” With that the blonde runs off, leaving Sasuke to finish the honey cake without complaint.

At first Sasuke wonders what his friend means by she being hard to miss until he spots someone with blossom pink hair speaking with his brother by the wooden containers of cherries and strawberries.

“Sasuke,” Itachi waves him over. “This is Sakura, the owner of the new bakery in town.”

“Hi!” Her singsong voice pleasantly says. “Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise. I had one of your honey cakes earlier, it was good.”

“That’s high praise coming from him,” Itachi adds.

“I’m glad you enjoyed them,” she’s smiling from ear to ear, a tinge if blush spreading across her cheeks. Must be from the sun, he thinks, just like the burst of warmth climbing up the back of his neck.

“What were you talking about before I came over?”

“I’m interested in having produce from Uchiha Farms delivered to my shop, maybe two or three times a week.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Itachi assures. “I can add you to my route. Just let me know what you want and how much.”

Before she can answer, Ino calls her back to their stand for a moment. “I’ll be right back!”

Sasuke turns to his brother as soon as she’s far enough away. “I can do it. Handle her order,” he clarifies.

“Are you sure? I already have a few deliveries in that area.”

“Hn. I don’t mind. If you want you can take my stop at the schoolhouse near the edge of town.” Bait Sasuke hopes his brother takes since the teacher who runs the place is Izumi, the girl Itachi has been eyeing for weeks.

The corner of his lips curve into a smirk. “Ah, I guess that’s a fair trade.”

Over the course of the next few weeks, Sasuke gradually learns more about Sakura when he delivers her order and when she stops by his stall at the farmers market — her parents own a bakery back in her hometown and she wanted to start her own, she and Ino attended the same school as children and continued to keep in touch, she loves strawberry mochi, and is very single.

Whenever he stops by she gives him an extra piece of cake or fruit pie she made, although she soon learns he isn’t a big fan of sweets. “I noticed your nose scrunches up before taking a bite. It’s cute,” she says to him one day, “I’ll cut back on the sugar when you’re here again.”

Next time he stops by she gave him a delicious cheese tart instead, causing something to bloom in his chest. Something he doesn’t want to name just yet.

“Why haven’t you asked Sakura out??” Naruto is loitering around the Uchiha Farms stand during the weekly market. “She’s popular, ya know.”

“Hn. None of my business,” Sasuke mutters under his breath, throwing a glance across the road at her set up only to see Idate chatting her up. Of course he’s aware of Sakura’s reputation around Konoha of being the sweet baker with even sweeter goods. Yet he doesn’t believe she treats him any different than a customer or their friends, she’s just naturally friendly to everyone.

“Do you really think she’s giving the rest of us free food?” Naruto brings up. “She only started adding savory options at her shop after learning you prefer them over her usual stuff. Trust me, she likes you.”

From the other end, once Idate finally leaves, Sakura meets his gaze with a bright expression.

Perhaps Naruto has a point and he needs to get out of his own head. He can try a more subtle approach, buying her a pink and yellow dahlias should convey his sentiments, even if it means having to withstand Ino’s prying questions.

“What are those for?” Sakura asks as she’s packing up her table for the day.

“I got them for you.” The tips of his ears begin to burn.

“They’re beautiful Sasuke!” She takes them thankfully. “They smell wonderful too.”

He takes her basket so she can hold the flowers as they walk back to the bakery.

“I-um-had something I wanted to ask you too,” Sakura goes on. “I heard from Itachi that you really like tomatoes. I found this recipe for a tomato and goat cheese tart. If you’re not too busy tomorrow, I was thinking we could make it together and have it for dinner….as a date? Unless you’d rather do something else?”

“That sounds perfect,” Sasuke says. “I’ll look forward to it.”

[heavenlyakin]

Part 1: Somebody Else

Summary: Your life is forever changed when your most trusted advisor arrives home with an engagement treaty. As Queen of your Kingdom, you knew there would be sacrifices but little did you know how much the cost of these sacrifices would be. What do you do when your mind wants one thing but your heart longs for another?

Characters: Reader (some descriptions), Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo (only mentioned), Camilla (oc advisor), Callus (oc advisor)

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Royalty AU, reader is 24, Geto and Gojo are 31 so age gap I guess.

Length: 1.5k words

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The night he showed up at the castle gates it was raining. It had been raining since he left weeks before. Suguru Geto has left to seek out a treaty with the neighboring nation on your order, but you hadn’t expected him to return so soon. When word reached you, you changed into the closest gown to you. Griping at your chambermaids to hurry with the corset and lace you into the dress's bodice, you began to feel bad. They were awoken from their sleep, not used to dressing their Queen so late into the night. 

The walk to the throne room felt like an eternity. Your heeled steps rang through the quiet halls, the candles burning low. The Queen’s guard followed behind you as you entered the room to your throne. As you sat, you glanced at Suguru’s face, desperate to read any sort of clue from him. Nothing could be read from that look, all emotion had been erased from his face as if he knew others would be looking for the same thing. 

“Speak,” you spoke, looking directly at him. 

“Your Highness,” Suguru kneeled, his head down. “I have returned with an answer to your proposal.” 

“Do not make your Queen wait any longer,” you ordered. 

He looked up to you, face still unreadable as he sighed. “They will not agree to your terms as is. They have sent a counteroffer, an amendment if you will.” 

Chatter erupted around you, giving you a chance to look at Sugur, really look at him. The circles around his dark eyes hinted at little sleep, his hair in much need of a wash, and his clothes a cleaning. Had he traveled there and returned immediately after receiving the news? 

“Quiet,” you ordered. “We will hear the amendment.” 

Suguru swallowed, his eyes giving away the pain that echoed in his voice. “Your hand in marriage to their King, Satoru Gojo.” 

You could not quiet the explosion of noise that followed. 

– 

Picking at a loose piece of skin near your cuticle, you notice a droplet of blood forming at the base. You cease, folding your hand into the other to conceal it. The council is too busy arguing about King Gojo’s terms of the treaty from the week before. It had been like this since, you sitting at the head of the table, watching men bark at each other over who was right and who was wrong. 

Suguru has not been present since recovering from an illness acquired from traveling in such poor conditions. You blame yourself, for sending him out during the cold rainy season. Too many times have your thoughts wandered to him, but a visit more than once every few days would look suspicious. You have had to rely on your eyes in the castle, letting them report news back to you as they ready you for bed each night. 

“Your Highness, I’m begging for your attention,” Callus, the oldest member of the council, begs. 

You nod, allowing him to speak to you directly. 

“If King Gojo is serious about the amendment, the country wins a victory without having to go to war. Controlling not only our harbor but having his country’s navy, we would no longer have to fear attacks from across the sea.” Callus moves boats from Gojo’s country to your harbor. “We would bolster our defenses and increase trade tenfold.” 

You sigh, nodding. He is correct. “What have others to say?” The rest of the council begins to speak at once, but you raise your hand, stopping them. 

“Camilla,” you speak to the only woman on your council. She had been appointed by your mother, the first Queen in three generations of male heirs. She is the youngest on the council, closest to your age, making her opinions matter more to you emotionally. She’s always been a warm light in your life, like an older sister. 

The others had been appointed by your grandfather, months before he died. So they’ve stuck around, unfortunately. At least they know everything there is to know about the kingdom, but they only have their interests at heart. 

“Yes, my Queen,” she speaks, her voice making you smile. 

“What do you think about King Gojo’s offer?” 

“Test him.” She suggests, a grin on her cheeks. “Invite him here,” she brushes her strawberry blonde hair off her shoulder. “Introduce him to court, show him around, see if we can get inside that cruel brain of his.” 

“Cruel?” You furrow your brows. 

She nods. “Don’t you remember him pulling your hair when you were a child?” 

The memory escapes you. However, you do recall the visit he made to the palace with his father, the former King. Satoru was a teenager at the time, you were only 9 years of age. They visited for a time, many parties and feasts had taken place, scattering your memories around those. 

“He is no longer a child,” you reply. “Draft the invitation. I’ll sign it and have it sent tomorrow. Make sure Suguru sees it before I do. He may be ill, but that does not excuse him from doing this favor for me.” 

You stand, leaving the room as quiet chatter lingers behind you. 

The royal chambers are on the other side of the castle, making it annoying to walk back and forth without being stopped by members of the court. On your way, three ladies and two noblemen stop you with requests, most of them inquiring about marriage blessings. The courting season has yet to begin, but this isn’t surprising. When members spend the winter at court, they often seek out proposals. 

By the time you enter your chambers, you’re exhausted mentally. Since last summer’s drought, the kingdom has needed more attention than normal. For the most part, you’ve managed to keep everyone fed, even those hit the hardest by the drought. Trade has been stable as well as fishing. Now, there’s been flooding everywhere since the rain started, and it has not let up since. You wonder if this is the Gods’ cruel way of making up for the drought; by drowning you all. 

At only 24 years of age, you have so little time and experience under your belt. You’ve reigned for two years, since your mother’s passing. She fell ill and passed quickly, leaving you alone with the Kingdom in need of a strong Queen to lead. 

You’re not so sure you’ve been that. 

You begin to walk towards your dressing chamber, ready to change into something comfortable for reading before dinner, when a voice scares you. 

“I’ve not seen you look this unhappy since your mother passed,” Suguru’s familiar voice speaks from your bed. 

“Suguru,” you turn to face him from across the room. He’s lying on your bed as if it's his, dressed in black pants and a deep burgundy tunic. His hair isn’t tied back, but instead falling around his face and shoulders. “I believed you ill.” 

He shrugs, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed, showing he’s not in shoes but just socks. Thank god, you don’t want to have to sleep in dirty bedding. He approaches you, reaching his hand out towards your face. 

You allow him to caress your cheek, placing your hand over his and leaning into his touch. Suguru has been your main advisor since you ascended the throne, appointed by you and you alone. When you were younger, you always knew you wanted him on your side when it came time. He was so much older and wiser than you. 

Despite being a decade and some older than you, he always made time for you when you were a child. His father was your mother and grandfather's most trusted advisor, so it makes sense that he would fill those shoes for you after his father died during your mother’s reign. When you asked, he answered before you could even finish the question. He remained by your side from coronation day on. 

“Suguru,” you whisper and his eyes burn into yours. 

I want you. I need you. I love you. 

It all goes through your mind but you choke it down. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” You pull away from him, turning your back to him so you don’t have to see that disappointed look in his eyes again. “Go rest in your rooms. The council will be sending you an invitation to review soon. It’d be suspicious if you weren’t present when it arrived.” 

“-----,” your name sounds foreign from the lips of anyone but him. 

“Your Highness,” you correct. 

“Understood,” he disappears through the door behind your tapestry by your bed. 

You fall to your knees as the door shuts, disappointed in yourself. An overwhelming feeling of grief washes through your body, aching in your chest and spreading to your limbs. 

Why can’t you let him love you? 

Whatever the reason, you know it's for the best of your kingdom. Shaking your head of those thoughts, you call for your chambermaids, undress, and settle in for some reading before dinner. Time passes by and before you know it they’re back to dress you again.

[moderndaycassandra]

We're both on the sidewalk, walking opposite directions, about to pass each other.

I look at your hair, gently flowing behind as you walk. I try to turn my gaze away, desperate to not seem like I'm staring, but it's too late. You've already noticed, and as you look me over you spot the lesbian flag pin on my purse. You smile to yourself and slow your pace so our pass takes longer. "I like your pin." you say with a hint of playfulness, pointing to my purse. I follow your finger to the flag and blush "Oh, uh, th-thanks. I like your hair." I stutter, face glowing red. You offer a cheeky smile as we walk by, and I turn my gaze to the sidewalk to hide my rosy cheeks.

The next day, we're at the same place again walking opposite directions. We offer another round of simple greetings and compliments. "Good morning!" "It's a cold one today." "Nice shirt, love that band." "New shoes?" This proceeds every day until the seventh. This time, you come to a full stop. "So, where are you headed?" you ask, taking a couple of steps backwards to stay next to me as I slow my pace and look up, meeting your eyes. They shine with sincerity. "Oh, uh, just getting coffee. There's a little cafe just up the road." Taking the unspoken invitation, you turn on your heel and begin to walk with me. "Yeah? Let me guess, Rose's Garden?" "Uh-huh. The one with the cat." "Mind if I tag along?" My brain bursts into flame as my face erupts a beautiful shade of red. I pull my scarf up nonchalantly to try and cover up. "S-sure." We walk in silence for a couple of steps before you grow bored of it. "So. You go to school here?" "N-no. My friend does and they needed a roommate, so I moved in with them. What about you?" "Yeah. Not quite sure what I want though. Just taking gen-ed for a year or two while I figure it out. I think I want to do something with biology maybe." "Heheh, I'm sure you'll....figure it out." My heart is beating so hard I'm surprised you haven't commented on the noise.

We arrive at the coffee shop and order our drinks. We take a table by the window and talk for twenty minutes or so between sips. We talk about our interests, make jokes, and slowly realize we have a lot in common. This becomes our new daily routine. We walk to the cafe, get coffee, and chat for a while, every day. At some point, we trade phone numbers and begin texting during our free time. Every time I see that little (1) pop up on my phone, the flame of passion ignites; I've just gotten a bit more used to it. After a couple of weeks, we start hanging out. You come to my apartment and I introduce you to my roommate, the next week I come to your house and meet your cat. At some point, we start going out. We never say the word date, but you don't go to roller rinks, mini-golf, cinema, attend weddings, and go to fancy dinners if you're just friends. At least, not this frequently, right?

A year or so later, we're lying on our backs on a grassy hill. The ground is chilled from the autumn air, but that doesn't dissuade us. Our laughter dies down from the last joke you told as we stare at the clouds. I point one out that looks like a giraffe, your favorite animal. I turn my head to see if you're looking. And you are, but not at the cloud, you're looking at me. That same sparkle in your eyes and joy in your smile. "I love you." you say quietly. We've both said it before, plenty of times. But always as friends, purely platonic. This time, it's different. Something about those three words feels different. You mean it. "I-" my throat goes dry, the flame in my brain erupts into an inferno and my arm goes limp, dropping into the grass. The edges of my vision fade away as I stare into your eyes. My face grows redder than it ever has before, only this time I don't try to hide it. "I love you too." You reach an arm behind my head and I reach behind your back as we pull each other close. Time loses all meaning as our lips meet and we kiss for the first time. The singular moment feels like it lasted an eternity, yet it wasn't nearly long enough. You pull away, leaving our lipsticks smeared and mixed.

The next year goes by fairly slowly, not too different from the first. Only now, we're not just friends, we're partners. You're my girlfriend, and I'm yours. The passion and excitement still hasn't died down. Years go by, you graduate college and get a job. I go back to school and get my degree. We have two kids and we watch as they grow up and go through school and find themselves partners, just as we found each other. Decades later, one of us dies, leaving the other alone. Which one is which? It doesn't really matter. By this point, our selves are so ingrained into each other that we're incomplete, merely two parts of a whole, but one part is missing. It isn't long before the other passes, and we rejoin in eternity, a loving embrace that lasts forever.

Then, I blink. We're back on the sidewalk that first day and I'm staring at your hair. You notice, then look at my purse. You open your mouth as if to say something, but decide against it.

We pass each other in silence.

[a-kaash-me-outside]

a bit dirty - ch5

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch5 | next (coming soon) [masterlist]

// can't be a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6538 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more bathroom fucking, somewhat publicish? but when isn't it i guess, meeting friends p2 ~ ah!, names names names pet names a million pet names, some nice fruition, a lot of feelings, soft and fluffy fr, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: ch6 will not be out next week as (to be honest) it isn't finished yet. i thought i'd have finished it by now, but my life is kinda crazy right now!! and i am very!!! ah! so! it will be coming, i promise. just not next week. thank you for being patient and sweet as always. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

osamu has ‘trusted’ atsumu with working the night shift and closing the restaurant, and that’s how you know how important this night is to him. plus, atsumu kinda owes you two.

but it’s not just that he’s letting atsumu work the night shift and close the restaurant (or, rather, shove receipts into a paper bag until osamu’s back to deal with it), he made plans and arranged the schedule so that the two of you weren’t working the morning shift the following day either, and he did it all within a week. 

usually osamu liked to plan ahead, organize his weeks months in advance, iron out details and double/triple check, especially when it came to his restaurant, but the second that he dropped you home that night, he was moving around shifts and trading favors for promises. he didn’t want to wait weeks and weeks and months and months to take you out on a proper date. in fact, even waiting until the end of the week was too long, but he’d survive. 

particularly, he’d survive when most of his shifts leading up to your date were ones that he shared with you. some days with just you, some nights with some extra coworkers, and the night before your date spent all alone. it was slow anyways, barely enough dine-in customers all night to count on both hands. 

as time ticked on, as it got later and later into the night, all osamu had were to-go orders and solo lingering customers at the bar. he was ready to close up shop early, to turn the sign to close and call it an early night in preparation of his date tomorrow, but the door chimes and along with it a loud chatter as a group of guys enter from outside. “hey guys, was just about to close up, but i’d be happy to do a to-go for ya,” osamu calls out as he delivers the last bill to the single woman in the middle of the bar. 

“shit,” tsukishima says under his breath, reaching over to smack kuroo in the back of his head, “shoulda fuckin’ left an hour ago, when i said.”

“miya osamu closing early?” you tease, and osamu instantly swivels his head to find where the voice is coming from, “what’s the rush? gotta hot date?” you ask, light as air as you enter the restaurant for the first time as just a customer. 

when osamu sees you, his chill attitude is put on pause, not gone, but not at the forefront, as you walk over to greet him, to pull menus from behind the bar and set them on the corner booth, but you don’t get that far. you’re not on the clock. you’re just here with your friends as the cute girl he’s going on a date with tomorrow, so he reaches his arms out, wraps them around you and pulls you into a tight, but quick hug. it really isn’t long enough. 

“what’re ya doin’ here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, smile huge. 

you nod towards the direction of the four guys bickering in the doorway. “friends were hungry, recommended the best place i knew,” you say, lightly nudging your elbow against his side, “plus i knew you were all alone tonight, figured you’d want company as you closed.”

he smiles even bigger at this, goes to nod in affirmation, but you rush on, “but if you’re really closing up early and stuff, it’s not a big deal, we can-”

“go sit down,” he says, chin pointing to the exact booth you were going to put menus on, “whadya want to drink?”

“surprise me,” you say, sly smile kissed away as he leans down and places a small peck against it and you’re ready to call off the entire date tomorrow, because you’re not sure that you need it. this casual kiss, the tight greeting hug, you could just take him back to your place tonight and spend the entire day tomorrow telling him all the reasons why you’ve fallen for him this past year. 

but osamu, ever the romantic, classic, but with an exciting twist, probably wouldn’t let that happen, needs to take you out on a real date, has probably put a lot of thought into where he’s taking you and what he’s going to wear and what you’re going to wear and you don’t want to deprive him of that. 

you kiss him once more because you can, and then you walk, menus in hand, over to the large booth in the corner and motion with your hand for your friends to join you. “is osamu really okay with us staying?” akaashi asks, sliding into the booth next to bokuto. you sit on the other side of bokuto, able to get up and grab things from behind the bar or the kitchen if you need to.

“definitely,” you say, smiling as you start spewing recommendations, food that isn’t really on the menu and items that are better than others because they’re osamu’s favorites and osamu makes his favorite foods with a bit more love than the rest. when osamu makes his way over to your table, everyone knows exactly what they want, rattles off a long order of hidden dishes and kitchen favorites and osamu smiles at you every single time.

“do you need help?” you ask, body already moving to join him in the kitchen.

he clicks his tongue, hand on your shoulder to keep you seated, “i’m okay, i promise.”

“i know you’re okay, but if you need something, i can-,” you start, but are cut off by osamu’s sweetly stern statement. 

“you’re not working, angel, quit,” he says, waving you off as he walks backwards towards the kitchen and you know you’re not going to hear the end of it when he walks through that swinging door. “just be a bit,” he calls as he disappears into the back room. 

you throw a look to your group of friends, narrowing your eyes as their smiles grow. kuroo’s the first one to talk. “well, if i knew that’s all i had to do to make you quiet, i’d’ve started calling you angel a long time ago,” he jeers. 

“seriously, did you see how fast she just gave it up?” tsukishima asks, because, of course, the only time that kuroo and tsukishima get along is when they’re poking fun at you. 

“oh hush,” akaashi says, defending you as he does, “maybe if you guys were as hot as osamu, somebody might listen to you.”

“kaashi’s got a point,” bokuto agrees, nodding along happily, because bokuto will always agree with akaashi.

you put your hand on bokuto’s arm, “he absolutely does, bo.” and the rest of the table is quiet, eerily quiet, and so are you, terrified that someone is going to say something else or embarrass you in some way, but the thing that breaks the silence is kuroo.

“he really is hot though,” he says, nodding, and everyone is in agreement there. 

/\ /\ /\

“seriously, everything was so good,” akaashi praises for the sixth time tonight, head leaning on bokuto’s shoulder because he keeps telling everyone not to let him eat another bite and then he keeps fighting everyone and eating another bite. 

“thanks, i appreciate it,” osamu says for the millionth time tonight, because it’s not just akaashi who is fawning over the food, it’s everyone at the table. 

you’re sitting next to osamu who’s pulled up a chair on the edge of the table and is finishing up his own dinner with you and your friends. his hand is on your knee, just resting while the two of you eat the last bites of food on your plate, just to let you know that he’s there. 

“so where are you bringing yn tomorrow?” bokuto asks, finally calling attention to the two of you dating for the first time tonight.

“oh,” osamu laughs, “kinda a surprise,” he admits, “but i guess i can show ya.” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, types something into it, glares at you when he shows your friends, makes sure that you’re not sneaking a peek. they all look confused at first, but then he types something else out on his phone and shows them again and they all understand now. 

“this is totally not fair,” you say, shaking your head, “spilling the surprise, but i don’t get to know.”

“just be patient, yn, god,” tsukishima teases, residual smile from reading whatever it was on osamu’s phone. “you’ll see tomorrow.”

“you will see tomorrow, doll,” he says, last bite from his bowl gone after he finishes his sentence. “speaking of,” he stands up, “you guys are welcome to stay as long as you want, but i do have to start cleanin’ up and closin’ down.” the open sign was turned to closed about an hour ago, but the six of you were chatting and eating and osamu happily welcomed the company in the final hours of the day.

“ah, yeah, we gotta get goin’, actually,” kuroo says, reaching into his pocket to grab his wallet as he nods towards you, “yn’s got a big date tomorrow, gotta get her home early.”

“it’s funny when i make the joke,” you say, narrowing your eyes, “not you.”

“i thought it was funny,” bokuto admits. 

“i’ll take the bill whenever you’ve got a second,” kuroo calls out, credit card in the air, but osamu waves his hand. 

“don’t worry about it,” osamu calls out from the kitchen, walking back into the dining area as he wipes his hands on his apron. 

“no way,” kuroo says, shaking his head.

“serious,” osamu replies, “on me.”

“that’s really nice of you, but we ate so much food,” akaashi reasons, gesturing to the table of plenty of empty dishes. 

“just happy to meet yn’s friends,” osamu says as your friends meet him by the exit, “nice to share a meal with ya guys, thanks for the company.” 

kuroo sticks his hand out of a handshake and osamu takes it despite how weirdly formal it feels for him. tsukishima offers a wave and a sincere thank you. akaashi pulls him into a half-hug and bokuto nearly tackles him. they all pour gratitude and appreciation, and you’re sure they feel special, but it’s nothing compared to how you’re feeling right now. 

you feel like you could walk across the clouds, light as a feather, happy as a clam. you wrap your arms around osamu’s neck, pull him down into a soft, sweet kiss, and then pull him into a tight hug. he squeezes his arms around your waist, picks you up off the ground as he tightens his grip around you. “i’ll see ya tomorrow, sweetheart,” he says and then presses a kiss into the side of your cheek.

“can’t wait to see this mystery place,” you say, one last small peck on the lips for good measure before pushing the door open and joining your friends outside. you wave at him through the glass, and he waves right back.

“you’ve gotta cool boyfriend, yn,” tsukishima says once the doors close completely and the four of you start walking back to his car.  

“not my boyfriend,” you say, smacking his arm, but you feel giddy, like you’re twirling your hair around your finger and your eyes are made of hearts as your finish, “yet.”

/\ /\ /\

there are quite a few things that you’re feeling while you lean against the arm of your couch, phone in hand, waiting for a text from osamu to tell you that he’s outside of your apartment, and it hits you very suddenly that amidst all of them, amidst the floating and the excitement and the curiosity, you can’t seem to find nervousness anywhere. 

receiving osamu’s be there in 10 text, there are no jolts of anxiety or simmering bouts of apprehension that usually accompany a first date. you’re not worried about saying the wrong things or figuring out halfway through dinner that you’re incompatible or fearing that your date has the wrong idea of your level of interest. 

if labels didn’t exist at all, the way that you and osamu interact would put you way past friends and casual hookups. if the circumstances of meeting for the second time weren’t as they were, tonight would feel less like a first date and more like a date night. 

even the unexpected knock on the door doesn’t scare you. in fact, you’re not sure why you weren’t just expecting it, as if osamu would make you walk from your door to the car all on your own. you’ve been ready for the better half of an hour, shoes on and waiting by the door, not because osamu is late, he’s perfectly and attentively on time, but because you’ve been ecstatic about this all day. you open the door, already grinning before you can even see him, just at the presence of him on the other side. 

when you see him, your beaming grin turns more into a smitten smirk, quieter and more fluttery, and despite the fact that you saw him less than 24 hours ago, you have to restrain yourself from tackling him. he looks good, great, perfect actually, and seeing him look so perfect doesn’t make you feel any less dressed up, just more excited to be here with him and to see where he’s taking you.  

his eyes meet yours and they linger, helplessly and unapologetically, before skimming down your body, lips in a tight smile as he lets go a, “you look really great.” he leans in, palm resting against your jaw as he presses a sickeningly sweet kiss into your smile. you’re not exactly sure how you’re still upright, knees slightly weak as he snakes his arm around your waist, holding you tightly. “ready to go?”

you nod, follow him down the sidewalk to his closely parked car, and he helps you into the passenger seat, his hand moving with your waist to feel you against his palm for as long as he can.

the only turmoil you’re feeling is the fact that you have to behave all night when osamu looks like that and you’re both off the clock and out in a romantic environment and he keeps touching you like that and when the expectations of tonight are the same in both of your heads. 

/\ /\ /\

osamu has a way of making even abandoned oceanside buildings feel romantic. 

it wasn’t exactly the type of place that you were expecting osamu to take you on your first date, but for some reason, you trust him. actually, it isn’t anywhere near the images that you had in your head, but when he parks, turns off the car, a bit of underlying nerves in his demeanor, and turns to you with a look that says i know this is weird, and i don’t really know how to explain it without showing you so just trust me, you throw him one right back that says, of course i trust you. 

though, it’s not adding up in your head either, where you are and how he looks. you stay in your seat until he opens your door because you know osamu enough to wait the extra few seconds. he doesn’t rush to grab something else from the backseat or trunk, doesn’t lead you down the river past the abandoned building to sparkling lights and a set up spot. 

when you step out of the car, you walk with osamu, arm wrapped around his, towards the gravel path and the wooden fence separating the pathway from the cold ocean and rocky shore below. he leans against the rotting wood, hand sliding down your arm to grab yours. you can feel the breath that he takes in his grasp, see it in the rise of his chest from the corner of your eye. 

and then he explains everything perfectly in a single sentence. “this is the restaurant that made me want to open my own.” he could’ve stopped there, sat in silence for the rest of the night, not have taken you anywhere else or done anything else, and you’re positive that your heart would have been full enough for ages. you hum, just a short breath of acknowledgement as you squeeze his hand, side step closer into him.

he continues on, “i used to go here after school with sumu, used to do homework in a booth in the corner, eat lunch and dinner when our parents weren’t around or were working late. it was my first job in the kitchen, brought my first girlfriend here, figured out my life inside those walls.”

“i didn’t even realize that i wanted to open up a restaurant until my senior year of high school, really. thought i’d be doin’ the same thing as sumu for the rest of my life until one day i came here on my own because sumu and i had a really bad fight and the owner made me this onigiri, something that wasn’t on the menu, and she didn’t charge me for it because i was uncharacteristically quiet.”

osamu shifts slightly, clears his throat at the memory. “and she said somethin’ like a good meal can heal the heart a little faster, and i remember that the onigiri was so good that despite the fact that my brother was,” osamu sighs and shakes his head, a tiny smile on his face given how relevant his next words are, “a fucking asshole, i still wanted to save half of it to show him how good it was.”

there are still remnants of a restaurant that you can spot now that you’re looking for them: peeks of booths behind paper-covered windows and a patio with a broken gate and places where tables used to be, faded letters on a sign that was situated long enough to cause the paint around it to dull. you can see him here when you close your eyes, through these different phases in his life, for different reasons, with different people. 

“they closed down a few years ago, went out of business while mine was starting up,” he explains and you rest your head on his shoulder, “reminds me of how lucky i am that mine is still goin’, still kickin’. makes me think of the future too, of relocating or opening a new location.”

“it’s scary to think about losing it, terrifies me every day,” he says, shifting again, standing up off of the wood, his attention still on the abandoned restaurant, “but i think there’s something cool about being so scared to lose something… like when something in your life is so special that have no choice but to worry about what it would be like if it weren’t there.” 

osamu turns to you, looks down into your eyes, and he doesn’t have to say it, you understand completely, but he just has to make sure, “kinda like how i feel about you.” 

you already knew exactly what he meant before he said it, you were absolutely certain of the looming analogy he was making, but when it comes out of his mouth, your entire body feels warm. 

you don’t know what to say, how to match the sentiment of what osamu’s just said to you, which words to choose to follow the foundations of dreams and what was essentially just a confession. really, the only words that feel right feel like they’re coming too soon. 

it’s a weird dynamic that you have here, the notion that this is your first date, but in this moment, you feel like you’ve known osamu for years. and more than that, the two of you have had feelings for each other, feelings that have bubbled and grown and manifested despite the precarious situation between you two, for almost a year now. 

you haven’t been dating him in the months you’ve worked at onigiri miya, but you’ve been learning about him and the people closest to him, you’ve seen him almost every single day, you spend hours with him after close just eating dinner with him and you come in on your days off to bring him a coffee from down the street. you’ve both been too busy navigating unsaid feelings and difficult situations to care about labels and professions, so maybe a first date isn’t too soon.

“we’re not eating here obviously, i just wanted to show ya,” he says, sheepishly rubbing his palm against the back of his neck when you don’t respond for a few seconds too long.

your eyes dart from his soft gray eyes to his lips and back again, not sure where they should land to tell him something like this. your breath is caught in your throat, not because you’re worried, but because you’re so excited. “i love you, samu.”

there’s a soft stun in his eyes that might’ve caused some form of nerves to stir in your stomach if you weren’t so sure about this, if you didn’t trust him so much. his eyes widen just a bit and you swear you can feel his heart skip a beat, or maybe that was yours. the pink tint that takes over the tops of his cheeks is warm when you caress your palm against it. you don’t need to hear it back. you heard it whispered between every single word of his story and screamed in the way that he looked at you just a few moments ago.

when his mind catches up to him, he leans down quickly, finger under your chin to tilt your lips into his. it’s soft and sweet and disgustingly romantic, but not as romantic as the way he pulls you closer as he pulls away from the kiss. “i love you, angel.”

you don’t need to hear it back, but fuck, is it really nice.

/\ /\ /\

now, this? this is exactly what you had in mind when you envisioned the place that osamu would take you for your first date, a restaurant with minimal overhead lighting and flickering candles on each table and no prices on the menu and more choices for wine than there were food. 

when you walk to the table, osamu places a strong hand on your lower back, fingers curling around the fabric of your tight clothes, gripping and kneading into the fat of your hip as he makes polite conversation with the person who guides you to the private room with a chilling bottle of wine on small round table. 

and you’d think that sitting across from osamu, unable to wrap his arm around your waist or throw his arm over your shoulder, would be easier. there is an entire table of distance between the two of you, but that doesn’t stop him. he moves his chair just slightly to the side of the round table, not sitting next to you, just closer, and now he can rest his arm on your knee and the inside of your thigh the entire night.

he doesn’t bring any attention to it either, doesn’t send you mischievous smiles or knowingly glances, he just talks to you as if he’s not driving you absolutely fucking insane right now, pushing his fingers under the hem of your skirt, dragging his nails against your thin tights. he asks you about your day and about what you and your friends did after you left the restaurant last night and about how you met your friends and nothing that’s coming out of his mouth is even remotely about how wet he’s making you right now with his feather soft touches and assuredly harsh grips. 

the place is amazing, gorgeous, and the dinner is delicious, but the company is much better than the two combined and you’re having a really difficult time being patient, because as much as you don’t want this moment to end or this dinner to be over, you really fucking want this dinner to be over. 

you get your thank you and gratitudes out of the way before the bill is even on the table and osamu doesn’t tease you for your assumptions in his refusal to split the check. you wait until he’s placed the cash with the check and closed the front of the little black book to mutter, “samu, i don’t know if i can wait until we get home.”

he knows exactly what you’re talking about the second that it leaves your mouth. he doesn’t play dumb or make you explain yourself, but he does ask, with narrowed eyes and a slightly tilted head, “is this a test?”

“no,” you shake your head, similarly narrowed eyes now, “why would it be a test?”

“you just complained about the fact that we’ve only ever fucked in bathrooms last week,” he explains, and you’re wondering if the drag of his fingers pulling on the thin fabric of your tights is habitual or not because it doesn’t stop even as you’re having this conversation.

“okay, fair, yes, i did do that, but,” you say, head tilting back and forth as you try to think of some form of difference between then and now, “yea i don’t know if i have an excuse. you’ve been teasing me all night and i’ve spent all week thinking about you and i really want you,” you say, low.

“you can’t wait until we drive back to mine?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

realistically, you probably could wait the drive home and maybe if you weren’t so comfortable with fucking in bathrooms, you would’ve easily done it, but if you didn’t have to wait to feel him against your skin and deep inside of you, why would you? you shake your head now, teeth scraping against your bottom lip, eyes soft and impatient. 

he lets out a sigh, shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but these actions aren’t quite matching the loving touch he gives you or the hungry smile he’s wearing as he helps you up. “no use in beating around the bush then, huh?” he asks, nodding towards the restrooms in the back of the restaurant. 

as you’re walking to the bathroom, your brain catches up with you, and you almost laugh at how easy the explanation for why you don’t mind doing this again is, “i think it’s because i know you’re going to take me back to your place for a glass of wine tonight, even after you’ve fucked me, and i’m going to spend the night and then in the morning, we’ll make true to all of the promises that we’ve made about never fucking in a bathroom again.”

osamu presses a kiss into the side of your head as he walks with his arm draped around your shoulders. “well, i don’t know about never,” he jokes, or maybe not jokes.

you don’t have time to protest or to agree because when you make it to the bathroom, you realize a very distinct lack of private bathrooms, of single rooms with lockable doors. you also don’t have time to hesitate or worry about logistics because osamu is tugging you into the women's restroom quickly and with less fear than he maybe should. 

you can barely appreciate how nice it is in here either, only realize how clean and spacious the stalls are because osamu closes the two of you into the nearest one and you can’t stop giggling at how fast he made all of the decisions to end up here.

“what was that?” you ask, eyebrows knit together as you swivel your head in disbelief, “didn’t even have enough time to take in my surroundings or make a single choice.”

osamu tilts his head slightly, pushes you gently up against the non-stall wall, and your jeers and taunts melt away. “didn’t wanna make you wait any longer, bunny, been teasin’ you all night.”

a whimper leaves your lips in place of meaningful words, but that’s perfect for osamu. he smiles down at you, presses his palm into your hip to keep you pinned against the wall as he kisses down your neck and chest, tugging on the thin straps of your top until they fall down your shoulder. 

his lips are everywhere but yours, drastically different than how he usually is, and you understand why very quickly. he pulls your top down, bunches it up around your waist as he quickly captures your nipple into his mouth. you move to let your head fall backwards at the feeling, but there’s nowhere for you to go, no room for your body to squirm in response to his wet tongue circling around your hard bud. 

your other tit is in his hand, kneaded and massaged as his thumb flicks across your nipple, pointer finger migrating to roll it between his two fingers. “fuck,” he says, so quietly, between licks and soft suckles, “can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see your pretty fuckin’ tits, babygirl.”

there are knots and butterflies taking up the space in your stomach and the words can’t come out fast enough, “want you to fuck them, samu.” you’re much louder than he is, so loud that he throws you a warning look, turning his head from side to side to remind you of where the two of you are. the thought of not hearing osamu as much as you normally get to isn’t sitting right with you, but he’s gently coaxing you to your knees and fumbling with his belt and y’know what, you’ll get over it.

before his hardening cock slips between your soft tits, you capture his head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his thick head, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. when you pull off, you let the spit drool off of your tongue and onto the length, spitting any remaining between your tits, and then you let him do the rest. 

he holds your tits in both of his hands, has to stop himself from getting distracted by the weight of them or the softness of your skin as he thrusts forward between the fat. he tilts his head back, chin to the ceiling as he squeezes your tits around his cock, slit drooling precome onto your chest as he fucks through it. 

every new part of your body that he gets to touch and hold and feel and fuck is just as perfect as the last, but so completely different. he watches your tits bounce as his balls hit your stomach, focuses on the ripples in your skin and the jiggle of the fat, and your pretty eyes looking up at him through your lashes. he compares the sensation to fucking your thighs and your mouth and perfect cunt, and fuck, he can’t stop the amount of precome leaking from the thought. 

he’s silent, though, save for a few strong exhales and harsh swallows, and the longer that he’s fucking your tits, the tighter his grip is, the more powerful his thrusts are until he’s convinced that he’s going to come all over your face. you can feel his cock pulsing between your tits, his face focused on the sight, and you’ve fucked him enough times to know that he’s getting close.  

you don’t say a word either, only place your hand on his hip until he slows his movements, and stand up and turn around. he doesn’t need you to explain anything to him, the way that you arch your back, both arms crossed over one another and pressed up against the wall above you is plenty tell enough. he reaches under your skirt, pulls your tights down just enough to spread your legs, and then pushes inside of you. 

how full osamu makes you feel will never get old. it will never not be the most incredible feeling in the world, being filled to the brim, inch by agonizing inch until you can feel his balls brush up against the inside of your thighs. the first few thrusts inside of you are harsh, too harsh, the clapping echoes off of the walls, bounces right back to you, it’s so loud. 

he’s slower after that, long, steady strokes inside of you that allow you to feel every inch, every throb. the small circles that he’s rubbing into your messy clit are only making your pussy clench around him tighter. you can’t tell him anything, can’t communicate how close you are or how good he’s making you feel, so you’re very grateful for how well he knows you, how easy it is for him to feel the signs. 

he picks up the pace just long enough to make you come, sacrifices a bit of noise to make you drip all down his cock, to tighten around his throbbing cock, quivering gummy walls coaxing him just as close as you are. 

you hear the door to the bathroom push open, voices accompanying it, and osamu stills, not moving a single muscle at the first notice, and then quickly moving with you onto the toilet to fuck you through the rest of your orgasm. he’s full sheathed inside of you, holding your legs up by the backs of your thighs as he lifts off of the toilet seat, thrusting into you, holding you in place above him as he pulls out. 

you wish you could think more about how insane this is, but all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel, how safe and supported you feel in this wild position. you lean back into his chest, back of your head on his shoulder, and the second that you’re close enough, he kisses the side of your face, saying so soft and so slow that you’re certain no one else in the world hears it, “love you, pretty girl.”

as soon as you’re alone again, you scramble to your feet, turning around and facing him. he pulls you into him, tugs the sides of your tights back up and pulls you into his lap, legs as wrapped around him as they possibly can be. he kisses you, gently, and the tone of this entire hookup has shifted dramatically since he said those words to you again for the second time tonight. 

he doesn’t ask or apologize as he grabs your tights between your legs and tears a hole in them big enough to slip inside of you again. he only laughs when he notices how shocked you look, can’t help it, and then kisses the corner of your mouth as the shock fades, replaced with the feeling of being incredibly full and extremely close. 

it doesn’t take long at all for the eye contact and the rhythmic thrusts to get osamu just as close as he was before, head falling against your shoulder, arms wrapped around your lower back as he lifts off of the toilet to fuck his cock into you deeper, but he doesn’t have enough room to fuck you faster, needs more space to give you nice, long strokes. he leans your forward, both of your hands splaying out to brace yourself on either sides of the wall.

he fucks into you faster, harder, one hand under your lower back, the other on your stomach to pull you back onto his cock, and you’re so perfectly warm and tight around him, look so pretty under him like this. you can feel his cock begin to pulse, streams of come ready to spray inside of your snug walls, but he pulls out at the last second, shoots his load between your legs instead, ropes of thick come landing on the insides of your thighs, the fabric of your panties and the outsides of your tights. 

the two of you stay like this for a second in this exact position as osamu catches his breath and lets you recover as well. when he finally moves, he sits back down on the toilet with you on his lap and he presses a soft kiss into the bottom of your jaw. he doesn’t need to look to reach for the toilet paper. you close your eyes at the feeling of the tissue on your skin as he cleans you up as best as he can for how unplanned his release was.

“i can’t believe you tore my tights,” is the first thing that you say when you’ve recovered enough to talk. 

he laughs, kissing the bottom of your jaw again and squeezing his arms around you tighter. “i’ll buy you new ones, baby, i promise.”

it’s quiet in the bathroom. you feel okay enough to keep talking, only slightly on edge about someone walking in on the conversation, but you can’t wait until you’re outside to ask him, “are you gonna fuck me again, can we just establish that? no more beating around the bush or wondering how the other feels because the situation is complicated?”

“can you- can we just-,” you’re struggling to finish the question because it feels dumb, futile given the fact that you’ve already told him that you love him. but you suppose that the question is trying to be so much more than that, you just can’t communicate it correctly. 

“oh, sweetheart, i want to do so much more than fuck you,” he says, hand moving up to cup your face, “i want to love you in every way possible.”

your face is so hot, stomach flipping, and the only words you can say in response are a breathy, “i can’t believe you just said the most romantic thing i’ve ever heard in a bathroom stall.”

“in a fancy bathroom stall,” he corrects, still beaming, “but then, i should probably wait until we go back outside to ask if you’ll be my girlfriend?”

“yea, samu! probably!” you say, but you can’t hide your matching smile.

“and is this before or after i invite you back to my place tonight?” he asks, and you’re 99% sure he’s fucking with you now, asking you all of these questions like this just to get you riled up. not that you were questioning the validity of them, just the timing and the tone. 

you feel like you’re combusting. how are you going to explain to your friends and family about how you and osamu got together? on your first date? after you told him you loved him? after you fucked him in the bathroom of a nice restaurant? but don’t worry that was also after he told you that he loved you back. oh, but he asked you to be his girlfriend before you went back to his place and after you had sex in the bathroom, yes, you get it now.

you lower your head into his shoulder, exhaling a big sigh as he picks your head up and presses a kiss into your forehead, cheek, jaw, and then your lips. you’re wearing a slight pout even after he pulls away and he laughs. “alright, alright,” he nods, “how about i ask you now if you’ll go back to my place and i can ask if you’ll be my girlfriend there?”

“deal,” you say.“best deal i’ve ever made,” he says back.

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[spookykoolkat]

the red j.m. | chapter three

CHAPTER THREE: PROTECTON

series masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: it's been three weeks since you decided to stay in jackson and you realized that your hatred and irritation caused by the man who let you live under his roof may be more than just that.

warnings: age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, creepy joel if you squint, fluff/nicer joel, and a small breakthrough with joel, MDNI!

wc: 5k

na: HELLOOOOOO omg okay here is the third chapter of the red, my new passion project that i'm currently in love with. i have so many more one shots and ideas that i'm writing, including a request i hope to finish up before next week! i hope everyone is loving this series so far and i hope that you show ur love by reblogging, sharing you thoughts in a comment and liking :P i hope u luv this just as much as i do and hope y'all look forward to more chapters to come! (and oneshots and fics and stuff LOL) ps all love to my plus size girls i love u guys.

THREE WEEKS LATER

YOU

as the days went on, you found yourself falling into the routine of the world you live in now. you decided to stay, and it’s something you hadn’t second guessed either. part of it was nice, living somewhat normally, as normal as you could given the circumstances. It almost felt like a weight off of your shoulders. you could actually get rest most nights without the threat, some nights still being nerve wracking. 

it was your anxiety that kept you awake, your thoughts of depression and paranoia created a difficult defeat. It was hard. and you struggled, just not in front of anyone. your father wasn’t the best father, but one piece of advice you took from him was to never let anyone feel like they have to take care of you, always handle your issues alone because quote unquote, they’ll just throw it back in your face.

the deal was, you get a job while you take a few classes in order to take patrol routes, and the job was the local clothing store that did trades and fixer uppers. you didn’t know much about sewing or making clothes, you just remembered watching your mother sew holes back up after you skinned your knee trying to get away. 

ellie attended school, doing the best to get the education she needed before deciding what her role will be in this society. yours is being a merchant apparently, but you complied. it was money, at least whatever was comparable to money, and you needed it to get your own place. living with joel and ellie was fine, but you realized it was just you and joel most of the time. ellie managed to make her own space in the garage and joel let her, helped her even. he figured it’d be nice to have two different spaces for one another. 

he felt the same about you. but didn’t ever tell you of course. he figured you already had enough on your plate for him not to breathe down your neck until you leave. you saw it anyways though because joel could not help the way his face said more than he needed.

he was used to being alone, until he met tess, then he got used to having someone there and accommodated to living with another person. he hadn’t gotten used to you yet. in the kitchen wearing shorts and a long shirt as you made breakfast, for the three of you until joel would say that ellie was already gone. he would eat his plate quickly, saying a quick thank you and not saying any words as he does the dishes you just made. 

you would tell him you could wash them, that he didn’t have to, but he insisted you didn’t. not with his words of course, he’d just rush to do them before you could finish your plate. you didn’t know what to make of him yet.  

“i got your plate, you’re gonna be late for work,” he would say, taking your cup and plate to the sink to wash. he’d always be right though, you were going to be late on days you cooked in the mornings. but he just seemed to want to be out of your way and as far away as possible from you. you even asked tommy how to go about living with his brother. 

“best advice i can give you is to just do your own thing. he won’t pay no mind to you, like livin’ with a damn cat i tell ya,” he said playfully, but something in you made you believe it wholeheartedly. he truly was like a cat. quiet, reserved, does his own thing, and takes care of himself. you figured, how hard could it be? until actually living with him. now, you’re kind of bothered by the lack of interactions. you were here, you might as well get to know the people around you but he didn’t make it that simple. you didn’t either at first, so you’re patient. 

but then you got in your head. you don’t need to let anyone in, you aren’t here to make friends or share dark secrets. being here made you gain small hope, but it didn’t last once you started thinking again. there wasn’t a way for you to have people in your life and keep them safe at the same time. you realized that everything you had to fight for and protect, you failed. 

but you weren’t the only one still adjusting and battling themselves. joel put up a wall between him and everyone he’s ever interacted with. it was for his safety, and now ellie’s. 

sometimes he’d be surprised by you in the wide living room with a book in your hands after work. it wasn’t that rare you constantly met him in the living room after his shift was up, because by the time he was coming back home you were getting up for work. sometimes vice versa, and sometimes, very rarely, would you and joel be leaving the house at the same time. but still, after almost a month of being in joel’s presence there wasn’t more than 20 words exchanged each day. 

joel didn’t bother to get to know you, he didn’t ask you about anything and didn’t even ask you about your plans to stay or not. he just didn’t want you asking questions either. plus, he figured everything he knew about you was all that he needed to know. 

you would think joel would like to know who was living under his roof, but truth be told he hardly knows the people he calls neighbors. to him it wasn’t his priority to meet new people and indulge in normal life activities like watching a movie or going to the bar they hold in the town. he molded perfectly into the role he and others gave him, which was to protect and hunt. to do his part to contribute to the new making of jackson’s society. in joel’s mind, he wasn’t in jackson to make buddies and go on dates, and he wasn't prowling for anyone either. 

his mind was on survival, and calculating if every decision he makes will heighten the chances of him and ellie, now you, surviving. he wasn’t interested in the get togethers people invited him to, he couldn’t care for the annual small pot luck they have in jackson, all he cared about was making sure jackson stayed safe, that all three of you stayed safe.

so, he put off making friends and love, and focused on ellie. he didn’t need anyone else knowing him and his life anymore than they already do, and he didn’t need a stranger trying to pry his deepest and darkest secrets out of him. 

the thing is, you wanted to know him. even if you were still unsure of him, jackson, yourself─you could admit that he did his part in making you nervous, drawing you to something. you still had a dislike for him though. you couldn’t tell which feeling overpowered which.

jackson was bigger than you thought.. there were at least two or three subdivisions of houses, a school, a church, one bar, one clothing store, one hardware supply, and a small park that was really two swings and an aluminum slide. maria told you as she gave the tour that it took a while to build up, but with time came something amazing. something the QZ or the fireflies could never achieve, it was peaceful. everyone relied on each other, everyone trusted each other. except for three people—the three people who live under joel’s roof. that’s what the three of you bonded the most over, the fact that you all have trust issues. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

you noticed joel a lot more over the weeks. he was a grumpy man, a man who if he could, he’d get a newspaper with his coffee—straight black, and read outside on his patio as the sun rose. by himself, alone. how he wanted. and you understood of course, you know how it is to want your solitude. but, you also couldn’t help how eager you were to talk to him. surprised at every small good morning, or have a good day you get once and while from him. 

he was sharp and cold with most people, offering a hand to compensate, and helping those who need it. joel realized after a while it’s better to make acquaintances rather than enemies in such a tight knit community, a community that relies on the people within. he couldn’t break that cycle, so he was friendly with those who he got to know. 

you noticed how much stuff he would bring back on his patrolling days. a box full of female hygiene products, a box full of new clothes, or more ammo. you watched from the window as he looked around to see if anyone was looking, and would go to the shed he built that was in the backyard of the house. you wondered what he was doing to get all of these things, but you never brought it up to anyone. 

It wasn’t your business.

you didn’t bother to pry, and to be your usual curious self and ask him about it. you knew he’d shut the conversation down before it even started, and it wasn’t worth it to you. you did make a mental note to bring it up to him eventually. 

a small part of you liked him though. despite the mystery, the coldness, the selfishness, the rudeness, you actually liked joel because he reminded you of you. a small part would be an understatement. you always seemed to be looking for joel. whether it was downstairs, in ellie’s space, or in public. constantly wondering where he was, or if he was looking at you. whether you realized it now or not, his presence brought a certain comfort to you.

you volunteered in the kitchen serving dinner from time to time, and when you did you fought hard to not stare at the miller brothers walking in with ellie. but, ellie didn’t make it hard to acknowledge their presence and notice them.. joel would just nod in your direction, you’d give a small nod back and get back to making plates. you practically fought yourself to not glance over at him, just to make sure he was still sitting in his usual seat next to ellie. and when you lost, you’d look up to his seat just to see his eyes peering over his cup at you.

It was an odd dynamic that left you wanting more from him. you wanted to learn more about him when he had moments of vulnerability, which was only twice over the course of your stay.you only knew he was from austin and was a contractor before everything started. you wanted to pry more, to know him, to know what makes him smile and laugh.  and if you were going to learn about joel, it wasn't going to be through ellie or tommy, or even maria.

you wanted the accomplishment of getting to finally know joel all by yourself, it seemed like a challenge to you. everyone talked, people would ask you where you stayed here in jackson when a local notices that you’re a new face and would end up looking like they saw a ghost when the words, ‘i’m a friend of tommy’s, i’m stayin’ with his brother,’ came out of your mouth. he had a reputation obviously, but you didn’t know the extent. everyone knew joel miller and the little girl, and joel knew you’d get wind of the things people have said and feel about him. 

he just hoped that that’s all you got wind of. 

you were so confused at this new and sudden urge to be around someone all of the time, but it’s happening with joel even if you never act on it. you weren't going to force yourself around someone just because you wanted him near. 

you wanted him to be the one to break first. to talk to you first and ask about you, even act like you exist a little more than he did now. you needed him to feel this way about you, and more. you weren’t going to get hurt, and you weren’t going to let it happen by the commune’s biggest asshole. 

but then you would come back to reality. you realized joel miller had absolutely zero interest in you. not as a friend, not as a person━to you, he saw you as a temporary thing. and you would remember that the feeling of close proximity to joel and knowing who he was wasn’t going to make your life easier. It was a constant battle with yourself, fighting your vulnerability and settling for being the second hard ass in jackson. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 13TH, 2024.

YOU

it was late at night when joel came home from his interchanging shifts with other people in jackson. you were humming to yourself  as you washed the pile of dishes that were stacked when joel walked in. with everyone trying to get settled, it was hectic. finding a new balance with being the new addition to the home, getting into a regular flow of things. so when you got home from work, you cleaned up as much as you could without moving things around even though you were desperate to. as long as you were here, this still wasn’t your house to mess with. 

you stayed in places here and there, a shelter in waco, texas when your parents traveled there for safety from the QZ, a stranger’s underground hideout the first two years of it, many more people’s homes and abandoned buildings and escaping from QZ’s around the states.but you never failed to tidy things up while you stayed, you couldn’t shake it. you respected your surroundings and were grateful for the people who did extend their hand to you, even if they hurt you and made you regret not killing them.

joel walked in with a hard face and an unhappy sigh, looking towards the open kitchen and seeing you in a long sleeve shirt that’s risen on one side where your waistband carries the old walkman, your hair in a lazy put together bun—a part of him couldn’t look away if he wanted to. still trying to get used to this. 

he had to be honest, he found it hard living in the same space as you. he noticed you getting a bit more hopeful these days, not looking as angry as he does every day, and talking more. not to him, but he watched from afar. always had an eye on you even when he wasn’t around. he made sure tommy looked after you, maria, he even made ellie make sure you were okay. making sure you weren’t completely out of your mind. not more than usual, at least. 

he had something for you. he didn’t know if it was true, if he could be this far gone that he couldn’t stand to be around you because he wanted to take care of you in ways you would’ve never thought of? he hated that you made him feel like he wanted to protect you. he also hated the fact that you could never make him hate you. 

you didn’t notice him of course, you continued to scrub and wash as he came up behind you and tapped you on the shoulder to tell you he was home, sending you to flinch and sigh. you removed your headphones and let them rest on your neck as you turn the knob of the sink. 

“fuck!,” you said, putting a wet hand to your forehead as you tried to breathe in, “why are you always doin’ that? asshole.” 

“watch your mouth,” he tried and you had to stifle a laugh as he plucked a beer can from the fridge and left the kitchen area to sit in the living room. it was always a little funny to see him irritated because of you, you couldn’t lie to yourself. 

“bite me.” you spit, putting your headphones back on and rolling your eyes. 

joel felt so wrong. your responses shouldn’t leave him wanting to hear more of your sharpness. he shouldn’t be curious as to what you sounded like when you laughed hard enough. he shouldn’t want to watch your every movement. 

you were lost, confused, trying to find your way and here he was watching you like a creep from his spot on the couch. he would’ve loved to turn on a tv right now, ignore his instincts and feelings and turn into whatever show was on. all he has now is a dull radio ellie traded with the neighbors for, and he decided to put that on instead. it was a bit rare to find music, good music even. 

by the time he found a soft 60s song, you were done and wiping up the area before drying your arms. you decided to grab a beer yourself, cringing at the dark bottle, and making your way to sit on the couch across from joel. he watched as you lifted the hem of your shirt to wrap around the cap of the bottle, twisting it off successfully. he couldn’t help but notice the exposed skin that was pressing into your black shorts. 

“i uh, never thanked you or tommy. for saving me, bringing me here. i’m just, it’s a lot to get used to. i still don’t know if i’ll stay,” you broke the silence and took a swig of the beer, downing it quickly. 

“don’t thank me, thank tommy.” he said coldly and looked at the burning wood in the fireplace against the wall. It was silent for a bit while joel’s eyes wandered from you to a nearby window, watching the snow fall.  you couldn’t help but think about it, and before you knew it the words were coming out of your mouth. 

“why did you want to leave me there?” you looked to him with the beer in your lap, sitting criss crossed on the couch and your fingertips tapping at the sweating beverage. he looked to you once and looked down and around, sighing. 

“it ain’t personal. tommy and maria, they don’t take people in like that. it shocked me, is all. i just didn’t trust ya,” he admitted and drank his beer, getting comfortable. 

“do you trust me now?” you asked and he kept his gaze on the floor. you didn’t expect a different response from him. 

you kind of sat there, stilled and quietly listening to the music that comes from the radio. he doesn’t watch you anymore, he just drinks his beer until he finishes and lays there with his forearm over his eyes. a part of it feels normal, like coming home from a long day at work and cracking open a beer, going to sleep after and repeat. 

“I’m trying, you know. trying to get my own place here, and work and make connections so I’ll be out of your hair.” you defended even though there was just silence. you felt bad, imposing on a man who clearly wants to be left alone. but he could be less of an asshole.

“I’m not tryna rush you out of here.” is all he says and you notice for the first time you’re actually having a conversation with joel miller. or the equivalent to a conversation. 

“It feels like you don’t want me here. I’d ask tommy and maria for a room but, they’re a married couple and she looks like she’s about to pop. feels wrong to invade their space like that.” you said and drank your coldish beer, not enjoying the foam it created. 

he sighs, sitting up from his slumped position and looking at you while your eyes are on the bottle in your lap. he didn’t speak immediately, so when his eyes trailed over you and your bare legs you could feel the heat from his gaze. It made you squirm a bit, your legs pressing together again as he makes your stomach flutter. you couldn’t help but look at the hand that grips his bottle. 

“It ain’t that either. you’re just,” he sighed again, half lying, rubbing the crease between his eyebrows, “you’re unpredictable, is all. don’t ever know what that mind of yours is thinking, if you’re thinkin’ of hurtin’ yourself or if this is all a trap still.”  he confesses and you form your lips into a straight line. 

you stay silent for a moment, before meeting his gaze. “I don’t want to hurt myself, joel. or you, or ellie. I have no reason to. I just, when you found me i was alone. and i like being alone, don’t get me wrong. but it gets… scary. depressing. I mean I’ve lost everyone, i’ve killed anyone i ever loved because of those fucking things. I had no one who cared if i was alive or dead anymore, and it just got to me.” 

“and i know everyone’s gone through the same thing nd more, it’s just,” you huffed and moved your eyes down to your bottle, “I’ve prided myself in being alone, that i don’t need anyone.I’ve shut everyone out and been so mean to everyone. but for what?” you asked rhetorically. 

you thought about it a lot. what was the point of trying to kill everyone before they killed you first? what life are you living if you aren’t trying to make the best of it? these were questions you asked yourself daily, thinking about how many people you’ve scared off because you felt they were too good for you. too kind, too caring, everything you wanted and needed you sabotaged because in your eyes, you’d rather get the blow over sooner than later. 

“your protection. and it works, it’s jus’  lonely.” he said, stealing the words from your mouth. 

“It’s lonely.” you repeat after him. 

for a moment, you felt yourself warming up to joel, understanding him more than you thought you would. solitude was something the two of you appreciated, but were tired of. having joel and ellie around made you feel less alone, like there were other people who understood how you felt. it’s why you liked talking to ellie so much, she reminds you of yourself when you were younger. she made you feel like maybe there was a chance to make things better for her, like joel wanted. you understood why he didn’t want to throw her in the world of being a protector at so young, she was just a kid. she deserved a chance to be just that. someone like that, someone who has fought and protected themselves and other people for so long, deserves a chance to be the ones being protected. 

“where were you when it happened?” you asked, a new song coming on the radio. you figured maybe now that there was conversation happening, you could try to squeeze your way into his mind even if it’s for thirty seconds.

“bailin’ my brother out of jail. you remember?” he asked. 

“yeah, i was like, playing with my dog. then it was like explosions and crashes and cars. it didn’t take my dad long to start boarding up the windows and doors. but yeah, i remember.” you said and he shook his head, wanting to say something but holding back. he paused, then spoke.

“I’m sorry about your family.” he said and you gave a tight smile, thanking him. 

“I’m sure they’d be proud of you. survivin’ this long. It ain’t for the weak.” he said and that you agree on. you would’ve never made it had you been softer, or allowed yourself to be scared. you couldn’t be though. the two of you sat in silence as the static poured through the song, comfortable, together. he broke the silence first. 

“I found some old cassette tapes in the house when we first got here, if you want them. ain’t got much use for em.” he said, standing up as your eyes followed him. you grew a smile, and he was watching you find joy in little things like old music. 

“yeah, yeah of course.” you said and set the half empty beer bottle on the coffee table, standing and following him to where the cassette tapes presumably are. he ends up leading you upstairs, hitting left at the corner where you turned right all of the time, your doors were down the hall, directly across from each other. 

“I stored em’ in case. I kept everything i found in here, never know when i’ll need it.” he said, and you smiled. he was actually being a softie right now, as soft as he’d get you supposed. 

you appreciated it. more than he knew because you didn’t know how often he’d get this gentle.to a lot of people, this was just an act of kindness. but joel miller is not kind, and you wondered why he was being so nice to you all of the sudden. even if he was being snappy and short with you, he was trusting you to be in his solitary area, at least that’s the way you saw it.

he looked disarmed even though you knew he had a gun pressed into his back, and he looked comfortable. at ease, like he wasn’t expecting impending doom for once.

“It’s called being a hoarder, joel.” he narrowed his eyes on you before going into his nightstand and taking out around five tapes. Donna Summer. Beastie Boys. The Fugees. Bob Dylan. Prince. 

“I love Prince.” you said with a small smile as you grabbed the tapes from him, looking through and inspecting them. you remembered your mother playing his 1999 album throughout the house when you were a small kid. It gave you a bit of nostalgia, and warmed your heart at the distant thought of your mother. It meant more to you than it meant to joel, and he could see it. joel was actually enjoying the fact that you appreciated this niche gesture for you. 

“thank you, joel. I think Queen and Etta James will be grateful for a break.” you joked and the corner of his mouth tugged softly into a resistant smile. still better than no smile. joel glanced at the clock and noticed the big hand hit one, remembering how tired he was all of the sudden. or maybe more so acknowledging the fact that this is the most you and he have talked in a bit. 

“you know you can ask me for anything, right? I mean, you know,” he struggled with the words but with your encouraging eyes, he had no problem continuing, “I’ll do what i can for the two of ya,” he said somewhat kindly, referring to ellie as well.

you wondered now what he truly thought of you. if he still saw you as a burden, a threat, or just someone he lives with. you also noticed he wasn’t too good at expressing his feelings, he wasn’t a visibly emotional person. maybe he really was just too desensitized to everything around him.

“I don’t want to be a bother, i’ve been okay.” you said as you held the tapes with grip. 

“you don’t bother me,” he confessed, “anything you need, a’right?” he said with sure eyes, needing confirmation back from you. now you really couldn’t get a read on him. this was what sucked the most to you. you didn’t want to say it, but he was so bipolar with you. with everyone you saw him interact with, he was just short tempered and selfish. it never changed, he was mean to everyone and anyone who was near. 

but with you, he just avoided you. and when he would come near, he was either angry or neutral. it was confusing to say the least, whenever the time came for the two of you to engage, it was always a surprise at which way the conversation led. It’s like you were able to get a read on him when he interacted with anyone else but yourself.

“yeah, anything.” you noticed you were more breathless than you intended to sound, so you cleared your throat, and averted his eyes.

you realized you stood in his room with a t-shirt as a dress basically, alone with the door shut. It made you nervous, and as your eyes examined the room just to fall on his bed, it made you wonder what it would feel like to be next to him as he slept. you bet it felt warm, cozy, safe. safe in his arms, held away from the world. but then you felt crazy. you don’t even know the guy and you’re thinking about sleeping with him? what happened to collectively hating joel miller?!

you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you until your eyes worked their way up to his, a small blush forming on your face as he basically caught you checking him out. but he didn’t look like he noticed, he seemed too dazed by you to notice you were even looking at him. 

“I should go to bed. thank you again for these, joel.” you smiled sleepily, breaking the small silence. his gaze went back to normal, you seemingly saw the darkness in his eyes fade as his eyes locked on yours again. he looked softer. 

“yeah, me too, and you’re welcome. I’ll see you in the mornin’,” he trailed off, you just nodded and awkwardly shifted out of the room, releasing a breath you were holding.  you finally felt like you could breathe again, like the weight of his gaze was suffocating you.

that night you fell asleep with your headphones on, listening to Protection by Donna Summer, and thinking of joel. 

[bearterritory]

BEARS WIN BIG MEET

Lauzon’s Walk-Off Perfect Store Lifts #7 Cal over #13 Stanford

BERKELEY –  There was pandemonium at Haas Pavilion this weekend as the No. 7 California women's gymnastics team won the first Big Meet in the ACC era in dramatic fashion, defeating No. 13 Stanford 197.550-197.400. Both the Golden Bears and the Cardinal had their best performances of the season in a contest that came down to the final routine. With the meet on the line, senior Mya Lauzon anchored the floor exercise lineup with a walk-off perfect 10, the first of her career on that event.   "The scores were close, but at the same time that's not something we really pay attention to during the meet," Lauzon said. "The five girls in front of me all hit such good routines, so I just went out there and competed with freedom and joy and had a lot of fun. I guess that's what happens when you do those things."

With 10s on the vault and balance beam in her last two seasons, Lauzon became the first Bear in program history to earn a perfect score on three different events. She is the first ACC gymnast to record a 10 and is now just one perfect uneven bars routine away from the "gym slam", which would put her in elite company.   Lauzon's floor routine was just the crescendo of an already impressive night as all four of the senior's routines scored a 9.9 or higher. She won the all-around with a score of 39.750, which is the second-highest mark in the nation this season and is tied for third all-time in Cal history. The senior also won the uneven bars and a share of the vault title while placing third on the balance beam.

  The Golden Bears (9-2, 3-0 ACC) took on the events in Olympic order and had a solid showing on vault posting a 49.250, which is their second highest score on that event this season. It was led by none other Lauzon who scored her first 9.90 of the night and sophomore Kyen Mayhew who earned a share of third with a 9.875. Stanford (6-1, 3-1 ACC) took a 0.125 lead after the first rotation, recording a 49.375 on bars.   Cal quickly took the lead with a strong bars rotation earning a season-high tying 49.400 compared to the Cardinal's 49.075 on vault. Lauzon (9.925) notched the top score of the night in the leadoff spot followed by junior eMjae Frazier (9.900), who earned a share of silver on the event. The Bears did not have to count anything lower than a 9.850 as they headed to the beam with a 98.650-98.450 lead.

The third rotation called for some clutch moments as Mayhew stepped off the beam in the third spot in the lineup, putting pressure on the final three Bears to all hit. Frazier was first getting the job done with a 9.800 and Lauzon followed with another 9.925. Anchoring the lineup was senior Abbey Scanlon who made an electric collegiate debut last week at NC State scoring a 9.95 on the final routine of the day. In just her second ever routine, Scanlon showed up again for the Bears posting a 9.875 to keep her team in the running.   Stanford regained some ground in the rotation earning a 49.325 on floor that made it a 147.925-147.775 contest heading into the final event.   The fourth rotation was as exciting as can be in the sport of gymnastics with both teams trading huge scores all the way till the end. Both teams posted their highest event scores of the year by a long shot with a 49.625.   Mayhew, who had just missed on her beam routine, got the rotation going with a season-high 9.95 that was good for second place. Senior Maddie Williams (9.85) and CJ Keuneke (9.825) added solid performances to keep the ball rolling, but the Cardinal continued to creep in with four straight 9.9+ routines to get started on beam. Senior Ella Cesario was next posting a 9.925 that tied her for third place and Frazier added her second 9.90 of the night.   After Sienna Robinson anchored the Stanford lineup with a 9.925 to put her team up 197.400-197.375, it would come down to Lauzon who needed a 9.875 or better to win the meet. Fortunately for the Bears, Lauzon has yet to get a sub-9.90 on floor this year. The senior stepped on to the carpet, nailed every pass and leap, and was mobbed by her teammates as they and the rest of Haas Pavilion chanted, "ten, ten, ten!" When the judges turned their placards towards the center floor the Bears' wishes were granted.   "This is my favorite floor routine I've had in my collegiate career and becoming a performer on floor has become a thing for me this season because I love to express my personality," Lauzon said. "I honed in all the little details and took it skill by skill till the end and really channeled the energy from Haas and my teammates."

The Golden Bears will now take a brief break from ACC competition and head to Dallas, Texas this week for the Metroplex Challenge. The Bears will face Utah State and Texas Woman's Friday at 5 p.m. PT.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kicho's Main Story Ch. 12 Part 1 Romantic

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. Spoilers under the cut. Expect mistakes

Mai: “I want to see you again.”

As I blurted these words weakly...

???: “That’s what I thought too.”

(There’s a voice from outside again...!)

When I opened the door, no one was there.

Mai: “Huh?

???: “Nice try, Mai. The correct answer is...”

Mai: “Up!”

Sasuke: “Down.”

Mai: “Waah!?”

The tatami mat was lifted, and Sasuke appeared in a flash.

Mai: “That surprised me. Can a ninja come out from anywhere?”

Sasuke: “I don’t know. I’m just the type of guy who likes to stick to variations.”

Mai: “I see. You’re very dedicated to your work.”

Mai: “By the way, what are you doing here? I thought you’d gone home.”

Sasuke: “Yeah, exactly. I received an order to return home, so I went back to Echigo, but there’s something I have to tell you, and I really wanted to see you.”

Sasuke: “You escaped from the trading post and came back here safely, right?”

Mai: “Yes. Things happened, but I guess that’s how it turns out.”

Sasuke: “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried that you were suffering from that weird disease too.”

Sasuke: “You feel dizzy and suddenly can’t breathe.”

Mai: “Is that...!”

Sasuke: “You know anything about it?”

Mai: “Yep.”

I remember how hard it was to breathe and involuntarily clutch my chest.

Mai: “I think it’s the effect of history and the future being changed.”

Sasuke: “I knew it. I had the same guess.”

Sasuke: “Actually, my stuff disappeared.”

(It’s the same as mine.)

(I still don’t know where my handkerchief is, but other than that...)

I glanced at the bag I had left in this room when I left for Sakai.

(Right. There was something that had disappeared in the same way!)

I rushed to it and pulled out the travel guide.

Mai: “What? No way.”

Most of it was supposed to be blank, but the contents were slowly returning.

Mai: “What does this mean?”

Sasuke: “It’s the same for me. My stuff that has disappeared is coming back one by one.”

Sasuke: “And this is the most important thing.”

Mai: “What is?”

Sasuke: “The wormhole. The only way for us to return to our original time.”

Sasuke: “Mai. We might be able to go back in the future.”

Mai: “Does that mean the future is back?”

Sasuke: “Yeah, but not completely.”

Sasuke: “For example, the travel guide is partially back to normal, and I no longer feel any pain these past few days.”

Mai: “Same with me.”

(I was able to live a normal life and was so preoccupied with other things that I forgot about it.)

Sasuke: "All I can say is that I'm sure it's coming back."

Sasuke: "And the next time the wormhole will appear is in three weeks."

Mai: "So, less than a month. That's just too sudden."

Sasuke: "I was surprised too, but that's what my observations show."

Sasuke: "I can't say for sure that it'll show up because of what happened last time, but if there's a possibility, I think we should believe in it."

Sasuke: "Besides, this might be our last chance."

Mai: "Really?"

Sasuke: "Yeah, if we miss it, who knows when the next one will appear."

Sasuke: "So if you want, I can bring you back to our time."

Mai: "I see. Thank you."

(I guess it's Sasuke's way of being nice.)

(I'm sure he knows I'm feeling lost.)

If you ask me if I have any regrets about my original time, I don't.

Everything I hold dear is out there. It's where I lived as myself long before I came to this turbulent world, but一

(Too many important things formed in this era, and some people I want to be by my side for the rest of my life are here.)

Sasuke: "I'll be back again next week in the evening."

Sasuke: "The wormhole will appear at Honnoji Temple, just like last time, so we have to leave early, or we won't make it in time."

Sasuke: “I’m sorry I haven’t given you enough time, but please think about it.”

Mai: “Okay.”

Sasuke: “See you later. Good night.”

Sasuke said this gently, and the next time I blinked, he had disappeared.

(A week, huh? I really don’t have much time.)

(More importantly, why do I have a bad feeling about this?)

I frowned as I looked at the guidebook, which was returning to its original state.

It was my and Kicho’s hope to return to the future, where the turbulent world would end as it should have, but before I could be happy, I felt a great anxiety that crushed my heart.

(I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.)

Mai: “I have no choice. For now, I’ll just work.”

Sighing, I took my sewing kit out again and pulled the new fabric closer to me.

Townsman 1: “Hey, what’s that?”

Townsman 2: “What you ask? It’s the usual. You’ll know it when you see those fancy outfits.”

Townsman 2: “It’s a troupe parading and dancing through these streets.”

Townsman 1: “No. That’s not what I mean.”

Townsman 1: “Don’t you think it’s weird? It’s already midnight.”

The group, which always moved along with lively music, proceeded silently and glided in the darkness.

Seeing this, the witnesses felt as if they had stumbled upon a procession of ghosts.

Man 1 in the group: “Are you sure about this?”

Man 2 in the group: “Of course.”

Lifting their foreign-style hats, Kicho and Motonari gaze farther down the street.

Kicho: “First, we must take it back from the Oda.”

One week later一

(I think Sasuke is coming this evening.)

I paced down the hallway as I checked the date in my head.

(I know I said I didn't have much time, but I didn't need it.)

(I already had the answer in my head.)

(No matter what happens, I want to stay by Kicho's side.)

(I want to stay in this era and hope to meet him again.)

(I want to see him no matter how long it takes.)

The more I put the words in my heart, the more I wished for it.

However, as if to crush my positive attitude, no new information had come in yet.

(Maybe I should ask around while I send off the kimono.)

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai!"

Mai: "Ranmaru."

Ranmaru: "Everyone is coming back. Come with me!"

Mai: "Everyone? Whoa!"

He grabbed me by the arm, and we ran outside the castle.

(Ah...there they are!)

As soon as we stepped out of the castle gate, I saw the Oda army and immediately noticed that everyone was acting weird.

(What's with all the tension?)

(Wait, Mitsuhide is not here again.)

Hideyoshi: "Oh..."

Hideyoshi, who was talking with Nobunaga, noticed me from his horse and waved me over.

Mai: "Welcome back. Um, is something wrong?"

Hideyoshi: "Yeah, a lot's going on."

(A lot, huh? It doesn't sound like good news.)

Nobunaga: "Hideyoshi, we'll begin the war council immediately. Gather everyone in the hall."

Hideyoshi: "Yes, sir."

Mai: "Um, Nobunaga. Can I join you?"

Nobunaga: "Oh? You're curious?"

Nobunaga: "I suppose you want to see if the plan worked."

Mai: "Plan? Huh? What are you talking about?"

I tilted my head, not understanding what he was saying.

Nobunaga, seeing my reaction, looked away and continued on his way into the castle.

(Maybe he was just confirming something?)

Mitsunari: "Lady Mai, there's no need to look so anxious."

Mitsunari: "We're already aware of it, but we wanted to be on the lookout."

Mai: "What do you mean by that?"

Hideyoshi: "We can't say it here. I'll tell you the details in the hall."

Keiji: "Mai, Ranmaru, thanks for welcoming us! Let's go."

Ranmaru: "Okay."

Mai: "Got it."

As Nobunaga had instructed, everyone, including the warlords already in the castle, was gathered in the hall, and a war council was immediately held.

I also took a seat at the end of the room and checked on everyone.

(This tension reminds me of the war council after the bombardment of Azuchi Castle.)

(I’m scared to listen to them, but I can’t just turn and run away.)

I pushed down my unpleasant feeling and looked at Nobunaga.

Nobunaga: “I have news from Mitsuhide concerning the whereabouts of Kicho and Motonari.”

Nobunaga: “The trading post in Sakai has been attacked and is once again in their hands.”

Mai: “----!”

(Does that mean they took it back by force?)

Nobunaga: “I heard that a group dressed as a famous troupe broke into the trading post at night.”

Ieyasu: “Was it poorly guarded?”

Mitsunari: “I’ll answer that myself.”

Mitsunari: “First of all, we both inspected the trading post and the port.”

Mitsunari: “When we took over, they already moved all the weapons to another place.”

Mitsunari: “Therefore, we decided that it would no longer serve as a base, so we chose not to place more troops there.”

Masamune: “We’re still short-handed, so I think it’s a good decision.”

Masamune: “But that was not the case on the other side. They wanted to take back the trading post at any cost.”

Hideyoshi: “I don’t know what they want, but one thing is certain.”

Hideyoshi glanced at me with the slightest hint of hesitation.

Hideyoshi: “Kicho turned his army against the Oda.”

Mai: “............”

(Kicho was a man of convictions.)

(If he really went to talk with Motonari, he wouldn’t bend himself even if it failed.)

Mai: “So you’re saying that Kicho’s purpose was this all along?”

Mai: “To join forces with Motonari again?”

Hideyoshi: “Yes, that would be the case.”

Keiji: “But it’s weird. What the hell did he do that for?”

Keiji: “Taking over the trading post is like going out of your way to let us know where he is.”

Keiji: “I don’t think it’s worth the risk of taking it back.”

Ranmaru: “It’s as if he’s asking us to take a shot at it.”

Ieyasu: “What do you mean by that?”

Ranmaru: “Normally, I think it’s impossible, but I heard it in the reports.”

Ranmaru: “I heard that the movement of the rebels has started to change.”

(Ah...)

------------Flashback------------

Ranmaru: "It's like they have some other goal than destruction."

Ranmaru: "But we still don't know what that purpose is."

---------Flashback Ends---------

Hideyoshi: “Are you saying he’s doing this to direct the resentment and anger at him?”

Hideyoshi: “If that’s the case, I’m not sure what he’s after anymore. What does he want with it?”

Nobunaga: “Nonsense. You can ask him about his motives directly from his own mouth.”

Nobunaga: “If he dares to expose his location and point a gun at us, we know what to do.”

(Is that...?)

The hall fell silent, waiting for Nobunaga’s words.

Nobunaga: “Prepare for war. Next time, we will capture them.”

Everyone: “Yes, my lord.”

After the war council was over, I ran out of the castle feeling empty and found myself in the castle town, wandering through the streets with no place to go.

(I thought for sure I wanted information, but now I’m even more confused.)

Kicho knows about the future.

If that’s the case, he knows there’s no need to clash with Nobunaga.

(I can’t believe the words and feelings he exchanged with me were lies.)

(I wish I could meet him in person so I could hear what he has to say.)

Mai: “Hmm?”

I looked up in surprise at the scent wafting through the air.

(This smell...no, it can’t be.)

My legs started moving, even though I was denying it in my heart.

I ran into a back alley, where I found a person waiting for me, clad in a white haori.

The person then lifted his hat and slowly turned his eyes toward me.

Kicho: “Mai. It’s been a while.”

Mai: “Kicho!”

Mai: “Why are you here?”

Kicho: “I wanted to see you. That’s all.”

Mai: “I don’t understand what you mean by that.”

(You suddenly disappear with no explanation, reappear as an enemy, and now you're throwing something like this in my face as if it's normal.)

Several words float and burst out, finally coming out to my throat.

(I...no, I also...)

Mai: "I missed you so much."

I found myself jumping into his chest.

Kicho: "Mai."

Mai: "Please. Let's stay like this for a while."

I found his scent behind the sweet aroma and couldn't resist burying my face in his chest even more.

It was a fleeting scent I would forget as soon as I left. But as I touched the person I loved, it sank deep into my memory.

Mai: "Please don't tell me you just wanted to see my face."

Mai: "I wanted to see your face, talk to you, and touch you."

(I don't care what it takes to feel him.)

(No, I want it all.)

Kicho: "I see."

Kicho: "Then I should be a little more honest with you."

He took the bamboo hat he was wearing and hid both of our heads, blocking the light coming in from the main street.

Kicho: "I've always wanted to see your face, speak to you, and touch you."

Kicho: "Always."

Mai: "Mhm."

Standing on my tiptoes, I welcomed the warmth I'd been waiting for.

The happy moment almost made my body hot, and I felt like I could do this forever.

Previous Part╏Masterlist╏Next Part

[sea-side-scribbles]

Solas wakes up in the strange new world of his own making and it terrifies him. Ridden with guilt, he joins the Inquisition and begins his lonely research in order to correct his mistake.

He doesn’t expect to find consolation in the presence of a human who wields ancient elven magic without knowing it. Who is way too gentle for an elgar’thanelan, but doesn’t know that either.

Solas, for his part, doesn’t know how to stay away.

Dorian wonders if the mysterious elf just enjoys playing with a Tevinter. He wouldn’t expect anything else.

_____________________

Chapter 1- 13 | Right after uthenera, Solas is found by a Dalish clan. This goes well until it doesn’t. (Basically my excuse for world building and hilarious misunderstandings.)

Chapter 14 | Solas joins the Inquisition.

Chapter 20 | Dorian appears in Haven.

Chapter 38

Approaching the war table the next morning, Solas heard the advisor's voices already from far away. Now with the Herald back at the front, there was some direction in their dispute. They didn't speak all at once any longer, since Ellana demanded them to hear each other out. However, it was a heated argument about a point Solas could very well guess. He was sure to bring closure to their most dire problem.

Nearing the table, Cassandra spotted him first. “Solas”, she addressed him in her strict manner. “You appear to have a sense for rifts. Are there any nearby?” Looking around, Solas found four other tense faces, waiting for his answer. “Nothing to report, Seeker. The veil is strong in this area.” “Good. Then we at least do not have to worry about demons along our way.” “That means time remains our greatest enemy.” Cullen made a step towards Ellana. “Herald, I implore you, my proposal leads to the closest settlement from here. We cannot go hillwalking for weeks with a camp full of injured, untrained pilgrims.” The spymaster answered instead: “Your loyalty to the templars is honourable, but even you should not want to get so close to them again.”

Another quarrel ensued, with Josephine trying to soothe everyone but failing and Ellana pinching the bridge of her nose. She didn't know this area herself, so she had to make a choice based on these shems' opinions. Sometimes she missed even Corypheus.

She remembered Solas when he walked into her direction and gave him an apologetic look. For ignoring him. For the noise. For...everything. “Is there something else to report, Solas?” “I meant to submit a proposal myself. There is a fortress in these mountains, located in the north from here. We should arrive there within a few days. Considering its past use, it should have old trade routes we can repurpose to transport our own supplies. If we are looking for a new hideout for the Inquisition rather than to be at the mercy of other owners, it would be the most practical option.” Ellana furrowed her brows, surprised by the sudden solution. “A fortress? How do you know this?” “It has once been a very busy place. In ancient times, our ancestors used to visit it. Later, Fereldans came to claim it. Lastly, it was owned by dwarves. Such activity leaves traces in the fade.” “...that you just accidentally happened to pick up?” “I was aware of the fortress already in Haven, but there was no need to report it. Now, I think we should use the opportunity.”

Not everyone agreed. “I grew up in these lands. If there was a fortress in the Frostback Mountains, I would know about it”, Cullen protested. “Well, it hasn't been in use since after the Third Blight. I assume you Fereldans forgot about it.” “So it's a ruin? Probably useless? If it even exists?” “It looked well enough-” “-in the fade.” Cullen let out a desperate snort. “Herald, please, we can't let our soldiers search for...a pile of ancient stones, because an apostate dreamed about it. We need real shelter and supplies. Even reinforcements. Healers. Quickly.” “Well, at first, to get me listen to you in the first place, you must stop calling me Herald.” Cullen wiped his brow. “Maker's breath...” “And Andraste's flaming tits!”, Ellana shouted. “How hard is it to say my name? I know elves called Otargeniman and Sulahnadahlen just so you know you're lucky!” The Knight Commander scowled at her, then remembered who he believed her to be. “Miss Lavellan...”, he tried to say calmly. “Our people are running out of strength. And patience. This dream fortress should be out of the question.” He gave Solas a scowl now.

Solas took it without a wince. “Since you are concerned about time, how long to you plan your people to wait for the negotiations with whoever you are trying to form an alliance with in Ferelden? Remember, this organisation is running short of allies.” “That's why I suggested Orlais”, Leliana butted in. Val Royeaux has taken notice of us. I'd say impudence wins.” “But not with a group of apostate rebels in tow! We already spoke about this!”, Cullen flared up. “I mean, impudence and furtiveness.” “Assassins is what you say”, Cassandra clarified. “No, there will be no need for such methods. We will prove ourselves trustworthy to our future allies with peaceful negotiations”, Josephine begged.

“Guys, guys!” Ellana waved her hands in the air to make them stop. “Now that you expressed your opinions in your delightful human way, how about this: all your suggestions include going further north at some point, because nobody likes to risk meeting the archdemon again. Yes, even yours, Cassandra. So, we will look for that fortress on the way, it will be the closest destination. Solas should help locating it.” He nodded at her contentedly. “If we don't come across it, or find it to be a pile of useless rubble, we move on from there.” “And to where, I wonder?”, Cassandra narrowed her eyes. Ellana sighed. “We have time until then to make that decision.” Cassandra rolled her eyes while Leliana seemed to already form a plan in her head. “At least we're moving on.” Cullen calmed himself down.

Solas looked at the silencing group, satisfied with the result, as Ellana approached him quietly. “So...this fortress....you think our ancestors lived there? Ancient elves?” He lit up at her question, as if he had been waiting for it. “Indeed, however, finding a trace of our culture in the fortress itself will be difficult, since there have been many alterations over the ages. It should look rather dwarven now, with sturdy walls and sharp edges. But nevertheless useful for our cause.” “Does that mean you saw our ancestors in the fade?” Her expression was full of doubt. “Shadows of them, I heard fragments of their memories, the ancient tongue. I saw golden ornaments on crystal walls and a library bursting with tomes. Sadly, I believe we will not find them in the waking world.” Ellana blinked, overwhelmed by what she heard. “Do you believe everything you see in the fade?” “I still have my sanity and reason, if that is what you mean.” “Looking for answers in dreams is a dangerous ordeal”, she said, amusing Solas with the attempt of lecturing him. “I'm...curious what we will find in this fortress, if it exists.” “I never said not to be careful. I could be full of bandits.” She snorted. “Pirates with daggers in their mouths, counting their gold...” “Elven pirates then? Flying with aravels over the mountains?” She chuckled at the image and Solas regretted she couldn't really picture it.

He left the discussion soon after, because there was someone else who needed his attention.

Dorian's heart skipped a beat when he realized who visited him. Again. As if it was the most normal thing in the world. Another inside joke they shared, save from Varric and Blackwall, who weren't there to spoil the moment.

He tried not to stare too much, at the elf's lean figure, his straight posture, the little strut he allowed himself despite insisting to be a modest hermit. The coat that, admittedly, looked as if a blind man had stitched it together with the oldest scraps of fabric within reach, was belted just tightly enough to emphasize a slender waist. His leggings accentuated his long legs, his thighs and...other parts Dorian didn't dare to think about. It hurt to admit it, but considering the resources this elf had on hand in the wilds, he...did his best.

“Good morning, Dorian. Did you sleep well?” Such a...common greeting, but feeling strange, directed at him. “Well enough, considering the circumstances...” Dorian just about stopped his complaint, because the elf hadn't been too fond of these so far. This time, Solas reacted with the most adorable look, tilting his head and eyeing him curiously. Then he offered him his hand. “You mind a more thoroughly analysis?” Dorian almost coughed, but turned it into clearing his throat. When he held out his hand, he noticed in shock that it shivered. The Tevene curse was on the tip of his tongue, but Solas didn't seem to notice. He curled his fingers around Dorian's and closed his eyes.

Then Dorian stared, shamelessly. At the sharp features that he had never expected to soften for him and the hand that began to glow slightly. Sensing the tickle that ran along his arm, through his body, he realized that healing had never felt like this. The sting of sharp needles was missing. The nauseating feeling of his bones and tissue being forced back into order, that would press against his tongue until he lost all his stomach contents. Well, he wasn't terribly hurt anymore, no need for such brute force. Still, he made a mental note to ask about it. It seemed that Solas had his magic under control again and what had brought them to lose their minds was now gentle and helpful. The glow faded as Solas opened his eyes.

“I feel...better now”, Dorian stated, giving Solas a surprised look. The elf only nodded as if he had done something trivial. “I wasted your energy yesterday”, he said quietly, full of regret. Looking up, he went on: “Where are Varric and Blackwall?” Dorian didn't like the change of topic at all. “They were in good hands, last I saw them. No, I don't mean to make any implications, they are swarmed by healers and admirers that seem to want them to either heal faster or get earlier into their grave. Not sure yet.” To Solas' startled expression, he added: “Don't worry, Varric is already writing the tale and Blackwall is yelling at soldiers. They're both tough.” Tougher than me, was the conclusion Dorian hadn't intended to make. Welcome back, taste of foot in mouth.

But the real conclusion Solas came to was that the Tevinter was left alone by those he saved. Talk spread, of course, about his noble deeds, but nobody except for the healers seemed to dare get close to him. Regret washed over him and he sat beside Dorian on his bed. Now unfortunately, his feelings created a lump in his throat and emptied his mind. Awkward silence was the outcome.

He didn't know that for Dorian, this silence didn't feel awkward. Of course, he wished he had something witty to say. But the simple fact that Solas was sitting next to him and expressed sympathy flattered him. He didn't even pick up on the easy tease. “How are you?”, Dorian suddenly came up with. Solas lifted his head, looking as puzzled as he should have been. “I imagine it must've been...hard for you....Having to say farewell to your friends. We didn't exactly plan to come back...And now healing us...I imagine nobody asks about how exhausted you are.” The elf regarded him, giving Dorian the impression that he said something unbelievably silly. Heat rose up to his cheeks while he recalled...it wasn't that stupid, right?

“You are right...”, the elf said surprisingly soft. “Alas, I am not the one who made the sacrifice. My well-being does not matter in this situation.” “It matters to me.” Now he really rose to award-winning levels of stupidity. The elf averted his gaze, possibly embarrassed. “...and to Blackwall...and Varric...and...Ellana...”, he went on, trying to salvage it. “I mean, we are your friends...” Solas was still looking away. Now, come on. Could a simple “How are you” do so much damage?

“Thank you”, Solas finally said, and it stung differently than a scolding. “...For reminding me...Sometimes I forget...” He couldn't say more. Dorian sat up, moved closer to the upset elf. “It's an odd place, this Inquisition...It seems all of Thedas is coming together for a greater cause. And borders and statuses become blurred. I didn't think it would be possible, but I begin to like these people, despite their lacking conception of hygiene and home comforts...” He saw Solas' ears twitch. Oh, how much he missed these. How much he liked these. Maker forbid if Solas ever got the hint. The elf's chuckle lifted a rock from his chest. The entire Frostback Mountains. And the violet eyes directed at him... Elven eyes were so very fascinating. Especially his.

“I feel the same”, Solas whispered. “The Inquisition surprises me every day.” “It's a place of wonders, indeed.” Dorian gave him a smirk. “May I ask again: how are you?” Confusion flashed over Solas' features. I...I am glad you are alive...” He huffed out a faint chuckle. “Do you accept this as an answer?”, he asked as if he was following an order. Nevertheless, Dorian's heart skipped another beat. Making a thoughtful face, he tapped his chin. “Huh...It's a short answer, lacking a certain self-analysis, but it's nonetheless appreciated.” Solas looked relieved. “That is...good, is it not?” “For now.” They smiled at each other, approvingly. It was a wonderful moment.

None of them noticed the Dalish elf that peeked through the tent flaps and pressed a hand against her mouth.

Notes:

Otargeniman: from Antiva Sulahnadahlen: song of the forest

[almea]

and this seems to be a thing where emotions aren’t good enough it needs to be a human trade off. I think if alyx could do something emotional she would’ve done that instead of sacrificing her brother.plus i think they’ll find another way out where no one needs to sacrifice anything anyway. And once ruby finally has the breakdown she will be in a much better head space and based on Lindsay’s profile pic my guess is ruby’s big break down is either this week or next week.

I'm not really sure how much we're supposed to take Jaune's word about what happened with Alyx and Lewis at the tree as fact when he wasn't there when it happened so he's just making assumptions. The theory that Lewis was the one who got out is very compelling to me.

And yeah, I do feel like they're going to find a way out without sacrificing someone (I don't think any of them would be able to live with themselves if they did that) or a piece of themselves (I just cannot agree with the idea that you have to throw away or abandon pieces of yourself in order to grow and change to be the person you need to become).

There's also something about the fact that they showed Jaune fell one day after RWBY did and it seems like episodes 1-6 have taken place over the course of one day since each episode flows directly into the next, so like. Are they going to stop Jaune from picking the fruit? (How do time paradoxes work in the Ever After?) Because when I think about Jaune going back to Remnant as he is, it's just so heartbreaking for everyone involved. But then, would it feel kind of cheap to undo old Jaune? I just don't know, my brainpower has been sapped by the Bees.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by coldgoldlazarus) Fem!Doc gets ‘stamped’ by Warfarin

The Doctor yawned, sunlight hitting her eyes as her alarm woke her up. Warfarin usually opened the blinds before she left for whatever odd hours she was working that week. It was a miracle their schedules lined up… though the Doctor was something of a miracle worker herself, if that was the case. Heh.

God, she needed her morning coffee.

After guzzling down some instant ramen (water straight from the kettle, as usual) and a cup of cold coffee from the pot Warf left her, the Doctor took a shower and checked herself in the bathroom mirror. Sure, she spent most of her day in a uniform that covered her head-to-toe, but it was still nice to… What was that on her neck? ‘Is that a hickey? Come on, Warf, I know you and I went at it last night, but did you really- wait, wait, WAIT.’

The night before, drinking tea and ‘red wine’ with her favorite vampire, the Doctor had asked her what she thought was a pretty normal question: “Do you think you would have become a doctor if you weren’t a vampire?”

“Probably not,” she’d admitted, sipping her A- ‘wine’ like a bored noble at an unavoidable social function. “I can’t imagine doing anything else now, but I only started researching medicine to try and curb my instincts.”

“Wait, they’re ‘curbed’ right now? First I’ve heard of it.” How else would someone explain the hematologist’s behavior that afternoon?

Warfarin blushed; it was slight, but the Doctor had learned to see the subtle change in her cheeks. “Look, I’m not the kind of person to go around and play up stereotypes-”

“Except that’s exactly the kind of person you are,” she replied, grabbing a scone. “You’re not fooling anyone here with that.”

“-Alright, I enjoy seeing your reactions, so I play it up sometimes. Like in your office earlier.”

The Doctor smiled. “Yeah? Enjoyed my ‘reactions,’ huh?”

“Naturally.” The vampire set her empty glass aside. “I wouldn’t spend time with you like this if you didn’t amuse me.”

“Unless it was to turn me into a juice pouch,” her date shot back, hoping for a reaction of her own.

It wasn’t quite what she’d hoped for, though, as the hematologist’s eyes darted to her neck. “Trying to get your blood that way earned me a restraining order.”

“I dunno,” the Doctor shrugged. “I think if you’d tried hard enough, you probably-”

“No.” Warfarin refilled her glass from a blood pack in a cooler by her feet and drained it almost as fast.

Her date sighed. “Sorry.”

“There are very few people alive that can still get under my skin.” The vampire’s face turned to the blinds to her left. “You’re lucky you’re delicious, or I might’ve changed that while I had you vulnerable.”

“I guess I know what’s at stake the next- okay that was probably too far, I admit-”

She smirked, turning back to face her with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Didn’t you already try to stake me? It certainly didn’t kill me… Then again, you weren’t aiming for my heart, were you?”

“I can always try again...” The Doctor’s fingers twitched. “When’s your next shift?”

“We’ve got time… If you’re quick, anyway!” The hematologist pounced on her date, clinging to her back as she dashed to her bedroom; it didn’t slow her down - the Doctor wasn’t strong, but Warfarin’s Arts kept her on her feet until they reached their destination.

Both physicians were breathing heavily when the vampire received a message. “Oh, right, I traded my shift tonight with Sussurro’s tomorrow morning. Good thing she reminded me.”

“You mean you can stay the night?” The Doctor weakly cheered. The aftereffects of Warf’s Arts were no joke. “Yay~... I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Feel free. I’m not going anywhere until I can feel my legs again.” Warfarin rested her head on the backboard of the bed, arms folded behind her, eyes focused again on her delicious friend’s neck.

The Doctor noticed her gaze and turned to hold it. “Have you ever thought about drinking straight from the tap?”

“...I have,” she replied, slowly and deliberately. “The temptation is constant.”

“Why haven’t you? I know you know the difference between me and a meal. What’s a little biting between lovers?”

The vampire rolled her eyes. “Your teeth aren’t nearly as sharp as mine.”

“I’d still leave a mark,” the Doctor teased, baring her dull fangs and miming a half-hearted claw swipe with her arm. “Rawr~”

“...I guess I wouldn’t mind if you branded me,” the hematologist mused aloud.

Her friend stared at her. “Huh?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Warfarin smiled. “There’s an old tradition - one I’ve never felt like taking part in - where a vampire brands those most precious to them with their preferred scent.”

“Like a perfume?”

She shook her head. “Not quite.”

“So how is it a scent?” The Doctor sat up, leaning on one arm. “Do vampires mark their lovers like a hound would-”

“NO WE DO NOT.” The vampire shuddered.

Oops. “Sorry, but what else am I supposed to think of here? Like, how do you brand someone, then?”

“...If I remember correctly,” the hematologist replied, “I bite my lip before biting you and let your blood and mine meet. From that moment onward, you’d have a brand where I bit you and carry that mark until you turned to dust.”

“Huh. Is… is that why you haven’t asked about biting my neck, then? Trying not to put labels on things because you accidentally bit your tongue earlier that day?” The Doctor hoped her question sounded playful.

Warfarin smirked. “If I want to find you, I don’t need to follow any scent. It’s an old tradition, and a barbaric one at that. Besides, I shouldn’t play with my food; I may have trained myself all these years to not give into my instincts, but you’re still an exception to that. I might get carried away.”

“Well, if you ever changed your mind, I wouldn’t turn you down.”

The last thing the Doctor saw before falling asleep was a pair of wide open red eyes watching hers close.

…Which meant it absolutely could be a brand on her neck now. Throwing on her uniform and grabbing her badge from her key-bowl, the Doctor ran from her dorm to Medical, skidding to a halt in front of the bay to collect herself.

‘If… If I go in and ask first thing in the morning, she might think I’m starting to get clingy.’ She winced at the thought. “Warf wouldn’t want a clingy girlfriend. Would she? Shit, why am I assuming this means she’d be my girlfriend? Maybe she just got sentimental, or maybe she thought it’s what I wanted, or maybe she gave into her instincts and had a little taste and wanted a subtle way to remind herself of what she did like when Orchid got that tattoo on her-”

“Doctor? Did you need something?” Warfarin had stepped out of the clinic to meet her.

Her brain sputtered to come up with a response. “You.”

“You missed me already?” The vampire smiled as the Doctor hugged herself. “You looked in the mirror this morning, I take it?”

“D-did you brand me?” She shut her eyes, unnoticeable under her hood-

A finger poked her cheek and traced a line down her neck as Warfarin replied, “How would you feel if I did?”

“I…” The Doctor opened her eyes and nearly yelped; the hematologist’s face was centimeters from hers. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Which way? Leaving a hickey on your neck, or taking advantage of your closed eyes to surprise you?”

That calmed her down a little. She sighed, partway between disappointment and relief. “Both. Phew. You really had me going there, Warf.”

“Did I?” She pulled the Doctor’s mask down to kiss her, making sure to put it back in place afterwards. “I don’t need a brand to find you, Doctor. Your blood is already my favorite scent.”

“...Is that supposed to be sweet?” Well, it was the thought that counted-

Warfarin rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

“Well, it-” The Doctor stopped as her eyes fell to the vampire’s mouth. Just below her lips was a thin line that hadn’t been there the night before. “You bit your lip.”

“I couldn’t brand you if I didn’t.”

Her friend stumbled back. “Hold on a second, didn’t you just say-”

“You thought I would stop teasing you for a second.” The hematologist laughed. “Oh, your reactions really are just delightful.”

“Did you brand me or not?!” She exclaimed as she stomped her foot. A few passing Operators glanced in her direction.

The vampire simply looked her in the eye. “Bite me.”

And with that invitation, the Doctor pulled down her mask and sunk her teeth into Warfarin’s neck.

Gavial laughed herself into a coughing fit when the pair walked into the clinic shortly afterwards, both nursing bite marks.