#i had a lot of brain fog while finishing this so apologies if it's made of mush

[lathbora-virann]

#33 for the intimacy prompts hehe

Oh my god ok it's happening. Luckily for me, this is something I already had (most) of a scene written for and it's an important little through-line for the whole story. This is from near the start of their relationship where she's about to go with Dorian to meet his father. She's bursting with love but still feeling very undeserving, insecure and unsure how to express herself.

This is also the longest piece I've ever posted whoops.

33. Small unexpected, and inexpensive gifts: A pastry from their favourite store, a small trinket.

Nymera nervously thumbed the little disk in her pocket, tracing the smooth, rounded edge and pressing her thumb against the imprint of her fingerprint in the hardened clay. She had been repeating the motions over and over for hours, waiting for the right moment to give it to him. And now that time had come. As she pressed her thumb once more against its copy, the faint pulse of the enchantment moved up her finger and through her palm almost like a heartbeat.

She didn’t know why she was so nervous. He would be gracious. He would be kind. He wouldn’t begrudge the humbleness of what she had made. And even if he didn’t like it, she told herself, he wouldn’t reject it. Wouldn’t reject her. He didn’t know he should. He didn’t know he had already given her more than she deserved.

Forcing the thoughts down, she reminded herself that the point of the gift was the sentiment and the protection; to let him know how much he meant to her. Not for him to shower her in praise and affection. But that still didn’t make the anxious little thoughts shut up—or her gut stop churning.

“Solas, I—”

Someone cleared their throat, and they both turned to see Dorian at the top of the stairs, looking decidedly irritable.

“Well? Are you ready to go?”

“Just give me five minutes,” she replied. “I’ll meet you at the stable.”

He sighed loudly as he turned to leave, but whatever sardonic comment he might have normally made was instead reduced to inaudible grumbling as he began climbing back down the stairs.

“He’s nervous, isn’t he?” Nymera said quietly, watching him go.

“I’m not surprised,” Solas replied. “Family can be one of the hardest things to face.”

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him how right he was. All she could do was give him a wordless noise of agreement as she looked back up at him. A deep sigh left her own throat.

“I wish you were coming with us,” she murmured.

“As do I.”

“I... don’t like being apart from you.”

A sad smile met his lips. “Nor do I. But we both know Dorian does not want to involve anyone else.”

Nymera swallowed and nodded, looking to their feet as she tried to come up with the words to begin. But then Solas caught her chin and lifted it gently so she would meet his eye. His brow was furrowed as his eyes scanned her face, searching for something. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but he smiled softly at what he found, moving to trace his thumb across her bottom lip.

“I’ll be here, eagerly awaiting your return. And hopefully by the time you’re back I’ll have taught Your Trainer some less dangerous methods to share with the Collective.”

A humming spread through her veins at his touch, and she couldn’t help but smile. Her hand rose to curl around his wrist. “That would be a welcome relief. I do worry about that woman. But… I worry about you even more.”

Taking a deep breath, she pulled his hand from her face, knowing the moment had come. Already she could feel her cheeks were warm as she reached into her pocket to pull out the leather cord.

“I made you something. For when we’re apart.” Nymera lowered the pendant into his hand. “It’s just a little charm for protection, something small that can sit under your shirt—you don’t have to display it or anything. It’s more symbolic really; the spell is only a simple ward, but I—I just... wanted you to have something to remember... I just wanted you to have a little piece of me with you to keep you safe and remind you that you’re not alone.”

She glanced back up at him, eyes running over his face for the tiniest changes in his expression, hoping desperately that she hadn’t overexplained herself and ruined the moment. His eyes had widened in what seemed to be pleasant surprise as he lifted it for closer inspection. And then Solas smiled, his lips curving in a way that made her immediately want to taste them, his eyes crinkling with warmth. He looked genuinely touched.

“Thank you, vhenan. Truly. This is your fingerprint?”

She nodded and he looked back down, pressing his own against the indentation for a long moment.

The thumping of her heart in her ears had slowed but was no less loud. “I know it’s not much, but I just wanted to give you something.”

Solas smiled again. “Your version of a simple ward goes far beyond what most would consider as such. And the gesture means more to me than you could know.”

Looking back up at her, his hand rose to her face again but this time he caught her cheek and bent down with a kiss that was both gentle and deep. She wanted to drown in it, to drown in her own relief, as her hands curled around his belt, drawing him closer. After a long moment Solas pulled back, forehead resting against hers.

“Ar lath ma,” he murmured against her lips.

“Ar lath ma,” she murmured back.

They stood there in silence for a long, unmoving moment as a chill wind whipped around them from the open balcony doors. All it made her want to do was melt into his chest as his arms folded around her. But she couldn’t.

It felt like seconds, it felt like an eternity, but finally she pulled back to look up at him.

“I should go before Dorian comes storming back up here.”

Solas nodded. “Yes. I will miss you, vhenan.”

[marcelloshdz]

caretaker

summary: after an accident ends in serious injury, marcello makes sure you're well taken care of. requested by anonymous.

“i’m so glad we could do this today. we’ve been so busy and we’ve been spending too much time apart from each other.” marcello said to you as he sat down on the blanket with you. the two of you finally had coinciding days off after a few busy weeks of work, so you decided to have a picnic date in the park. the weather was finally perfect, after a abnormally long stretch of dreary winter weather, so you took advantage of the sunshine.

“me too! i’ve missed you.” you pouted, pouring you glasses of the cocktail you made for the afternoon. “here’s to us.” you said, raising your glass.

“here, here.” marcello smiled, clinking your glasses together. you enjoyed your meal together, talking and laughing with each other. you missed being with him like this, but it felt good to finally have the opportunity.

after you finished your meal, you packed up your things, throwing your bags in your car before talking a walk around the park. you were walking peacefully for a while, until someone on their bike lost control and was all over the path. 

“look out!” they called. before you had a chance to react, you felt marcello’s hands tight around your arm, yanking you out of the way before the bike rider crashed into you. they finally let the bike go, falling into the grass on the other side of you.

“marcello!” you called out, fighting tears.

“shit, y/n. are you okay?” he said, kneeling down next to you. you just shook your head, the pain fogging your brain. you took a deep breath before you were finally able to speak.

“i think my knee is broken. it hurts so bad, i don’t think i can move it.” you said through gritted teeth. 

“fuck. i’m so sorry.” marcello sighed. he helped you up as gently as he could to prevent any more pain. “c’mon, its too far for you to walk back to the car. wait here, and i’ll come get you.” he said, and you nodded. you plopped down onto the nearest bench before marcello ran to your car. he sped back over to you, lifting you from the bench and helping you into the car. he drove you to the emergency room, and after x-rays confirmed not only your knee, but also your shin to be broken, they took you to the surgery department to get your leg fixed up.

after your procedure, and a few hours after the anesthesia wore off, you woke up dizzy in your hospital bed as you focused on the room around you.

“hey there!” you heard a voice next to you say. you turned your head in the direction of the voice, marcello sitting in the chair next to you.

“hey.” you said softly. marcello moved closer to the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“how you feeling?” 

“okay. a bit loopy from the pain meds, but okay overall.” you said.

“good.” marcello said, squeezing your hand. “y/n, i’m so incredibly sorry.” 

“for what?” 

“for putting you in this position.”

“you don’t have to apologize. had you let that bike crash into me, my injuries could’ve been a whole lot worse.” you said. “please don’t feel bad. you saved me.” 

you ended up staying in the hospital for about a day and half, recovering from your surgery. once your doctor deemed you stable enough for discharge, marcello was right by your side, helping you out of the hospital, and back home. 

he set you up on the couch in the living room, making sure you had enough pillows and blankets to keep you comfortable. he also had snacks and drinks readily available for you and within arms reach. 

“thank you, baby.” you said softly as you pulled him down to press a kiss to his lips. he moved to sit with you on the couch, turning on the tv. he turned on the show you’d been watching together, although you didn’t remember much of the episodes you watched, as your pain medications made you drowsy. you spent the afternoon napping on and off on the couch, marcello waiting on you as needed.

after your third nap of the day, it was nearing dinner time, and you’d woken up to your stomach growling. 

“good thing i just ordered pizza.” marcello laughed after you apologized for the volume of the grumbling.

“you’re such a good care taker.” you laughed, resting your head on his shoulder.

“anything for you, baby.” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“i’m glad you say that, because i have to pee.” you said awkwardly. without hesitation, marcello was up, helping you up from the couch. he helped you get set on your crutches, and followed close behind you to the bathroom in case you fell. one you were done, you were able to hobble back to the couch on your own, marcello coming back from the door after the pizza was delivered. 

“look at you go!” marcello cheered, watching you make your way to the couch on your own.

“i can already feel the muscle atrophy developing.” you laughed as you plopped back down on the couch. marcello helped you lift your leg back up on the stack of pillows before setting another one on your lap to use as a table for your food.

“ay, i’m sorry baby.” marcello pouted. “but, before you know it, you’ll be able to get your casts off and you can get to PT to help get the muscles back in shape.” 

“i need that day to be tomorrow, actually.” you laughed.

throughout the rest of your recovery, and the start of your physical therapy, marcello made sure he was there for you as much as he could and as much as you needed him to be. you made sure that you knew how grateful and appreciative you were for all of his help. 

[amaretigris]

Dreamy Part 2

Taglist: @hopeisrising @notagreekgal28 @luna2034 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @mylittlemermaid221 @freyagallileaevans @daydreamerwithnohobbies @jonahmermaid23 @jonahhauer-kingg

A/n: I came up with a part two for this. I hope you guys enjoy 😘

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1.8k words | Pure fluff

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"Sorry, sorry."

Jonah set his drink down, and brought his hands back up to placate.

"That was a joke. I don't mean to poke fun though. That was a tense situation."

You wiped the baffled look off your face and smiled.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I was trying to play along, and just went with my gut. I made it awkward," you grimaced before you took a long sip through your straw.

Jonah noticed the action. His eyes took on a more serious tone, and he reached his hand over to yours to reassure you.

"Hey, it's totally fine, (Y/N). That creep had you all worked up. There's no need to apologize. Besides, it wasn't awkward. I think we were actually pretty believable."

He gave you a soft smile, and watched as a blush tinted your cheeks. You smiled back, and he withdrew his hand.

"We were, weren't we?"

You knit your brow. He nodded.

"I'm sure we'd get along well. What do you like to do in your free time? I can't imagine it's spending it in places like this."

You lifted your eyes in thought.

"I love going to the movies, but besides that and concerts, I'm pretty much a homebody. What do you like to do?"

"I also like going to the cinema, and reading quite a lot. I spend time with my mates when I can."

You smiled at his response.

"So you don't normally come to places like this either?"

Jonah tipped his head.

"Occasionally. Although I do have to say that this bar is not my favorite. I prefer places where you can have a little quiet, and privacy."

"Yeah, that seems like it'd be a better experience. I don't drink much anyway, though," you shrugged.

Jonah smiled.

"Yeah, I try not to drink much either. It fogs the brain too much."

The two of you continued chatting for a while. Jonah was very polite and kind, but you'd guessed that when he protected you from that lowlife earlier. As you sipped more of your margarita, you felt yourself growing a little bolder.

"What do you do for work? Do you model?"

Jonah laughed at that.

"Part time, believe it or not. I'm trying to break into acting, though."

"Yeah, I could see it," you nodded.

"You're kind of dreamy," you offhandedly mentioned.

Jonah was quite amused. You seemed to be a lightweight, considering that you hadn't even finished your drink earlier before that man ran you off and it got tossed. One margarita was all it took.

"Ah, you can see it? Some people don't believe me."

You blew air out of your mouth and made your lips flap. Jonah had to hold back a chuckle. Pretty and funny.

"They're blind, then. I'm sure you get hit on all the time," you waved your hand in his direction.

Jonah shrugged.

"I'm not sure. In that dress, you could probably get more numbers than me."

You opened your mouth in disbelief, and looked down at your outfit.

"No way," you decided, shaking your head.

Jonah lightly chuckled, but took a second to just look at you. You were beautiful in your blue green dress with your cheeks and chest flushed from the alcohol. Your lips looked especially pouty.

"What do you say we-"

"(Y/N)?"

A foreign voice cut Jonah's question short. You both turned in confusion. Oliver, the guy you were originally supposed to meet, stood before you. You blinked, taking a moment to realize who he was. You sobered up quickly.

"Ah, shit," Jonah heard you whisper to yourself.

"Oliver...," you trailed off.

"Listen, (Y/N). I know I'm over an hour late. I apologize. The tube I was on broke down, and it took forty five minutes to get transferred to a new one. Unfortunately, my phone also died because my battery is shit. I know that I'm so late, but I decided to still come and see if maybe you stuck around."

Jonah looked back to you. Your eyes were saucers. You were processing what he said, and you watched as Oliver nervously pushed his glasses up his nose.

"I think that's my cue to le-"

Jonah started to get up from his stool until you reached your arm out to stop him. Your eyes begged him to stay, and Jonah sat back down. You fixed Oliver with a determined look.

"Oliver, I'm sorry as well. I have to be honest. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I didn't really want to come on this date. Ariel made me. I don't think we'd be anywhere close to compatible."

Oliver's eyes dropped.

"Oh," he sighed.

He took his glasses off.

"Well, if we're being honest, I actually overslept from a nap after work. I didn't want to come either. No offense. I'm interested in Ariel, but she was dead set on setting me up with you. I just wanted to be able to tell her that I tried," he shrugged.

Your eyes found Jonah's again, and the two of you burst out laughing.

"All good then," you waved your hand.

"Thanks, Oliver. I'll put in a good word for you with my sister," you gave him a thumbs up.

Oliver got visibly excited, sliding his glasses back on.

"Really? Thanks, (Y/N). See ya."

He nodded at you and Jonah, and turned to march back through the crowd.

You put your hands over your face and shook your head.

"Well, guess my date didn't go as planned," you started. "It's for the best. I was dreading sitting through another boring one, honestly."

You caught Jonah's amused gaze, and a question came to mind.

"Do you think we meet certain people for a reason?"

Jonah swallowed, and he nodded.

"Yes, I do. I think everyone who comes into our lives teaches us something, whether it's good or bad."

You nodded pensively.

"I think you're right."

You took a deep breath, realizing that your buzz was wearing off. You didn't feel nearly as bubbly.

"Well, I suppose I should get going," you started.

"I'll have to wait for an Uber though."

"Where do you live?"

Jonah quirked his brow.

"I'm not asking to be creepy. We could share one is all."

You laughed. He was sweet.

"I live in Nine Elms," you answered.

"Really?" Jonah asked in disbelief.

"That's where I live. See. We were meant to meet, although I am sorry that it was through such unfortunate circumstances."

"Let me call an Uber," Jonah pulled his phone out.

You smiled. It was nice having someone who was willing to help you out for a change.

"Here," Jonah handed you his phone.

"Type in your address, and I'll add mine after. I won't even look at yours."

You chuckled, looking down at the phone to type it in.

"It's okay, really. Maybe since you live so close, we could hang out again."

You tried to shrug and make it seem like a casual suggestion.

"That is, if you don't get too famous for me," you joked.

Jonah grinned.

"You beat me to it. I was going to suggest the same thing. And trust me, dear, I could never be too famous for you."

At his insinuation, you cleared your throat, and finished typing in your address. You handed Jonah his phone back. He typed his in.

"There," he set his phone down for you to see.

"The Uber gets here in ten minutes."

"Good," you started to yawn.

"I feel like I'm starting to crash."

Jonah nodded, and rubbed your arm.

"Probably so. I'm sure your adrenaline was pumping earlier."

You sighed.

"Yeah, it was. I'm going to run to the restroom before our ride gets here," you pointed.

Jonah nodded again, and watched you get up to leave.

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you were thankful that you had actually put extra effort into your hair and makeup tonight. You'd almost decided that it wasn't worth it, but now it was paying off. You combed your fingers through your hair, and noticed that you were flushed. It happened every time you drank. Yawning again, you were trying to perk yourself up for the ride with Jonah, but you were so tired.

Walking back to your seat, you admired Jonah's back. He had wide, strong shoulders. Shaking your head at yourself and your thoughts, you grabbed your purse. Jonah stood when he saw you.

"Hey. Are you ready? I think the Uber is pretty close now."

"Yeah, we can go stand outside," you agreed.

You sighed, and grasped your purse strap. You were mentally preparing yourself to push back through the crowd to the exit. To your surprise, Jonah simply grabbed your hand, and led the way. People actually parted when they saw him. You moved through the crowd with ease. Outside, you took a deep breath of fresh air. Jonah led you to the street corner, and the two of you waited there. Realizing that you were still holding his hand, you decided not to say anything about it.

After about a minute, a car pulled up to the curb. The man rolled down his passenger window to talk to you.

"Jonah?"

"Yep," Jonah nodded.

He stepped forward, and opened the car door for you. You slid into the backseat. When Jonah was settled beside you and the driver took off, you turned to him.

"I'm really tired. I might doze off a little. I'm sorry," you warned him.

Your eyelids felt increasingly heavy. Jonah grabbed your hand in his, and stroked his thumb across it.

"That's okay, love. You can lean on me if you need."

You nodded, leaning into his warmth. You closed your eyes, and sleep overtook you. Jonah smiled to himself as you dozed off. This night may not have gone according to plan for either of you, but he thanked his lucky stars that he was there to protect you from that slob earlier. He hated to think of what could have happened otherwise.

He inhaled the scent of your hair, and examined your hand in his. About fifteen minutes passed, and Jonah had laid his head on top of yours. He watched the city pass by through the window. The driver pulled up to your building and parked much sooner than he would have liked, and Jonah hated to wake you. He delicately brushed your hair away from your face.

"(Y/N), I think we're here."

He couldn't help himself. He kissed the top of your head. You finally stirred.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

You sat up, looking around.

"Is this your building?" The driver asked.

"Yes, thank you," you unbuckled your seatbelt.

You turned to Jonah before you opened the door.

"Listen, I seriously don't know how to thank you for tonight. I hope I see you again."

Jonah gave you a soft smile.

"Real quick, can I have your phone?"

You reached into your purse to grab it out, handing it over. He typed in his number, and called it for one ring for good measure.

"There. Now you have my number, and I have yours."

He handed your phone back to you. You looked down at it. Gathering your courage, you opened the door before turning back to kiss Jonah's cheek. You slid out of the car, and quickly closed the door. Walking up the stairs to your building, you considered yourself lucky. In the backseat of the Uber, Jonah touched his cheek, and considered himself quite lucky, too.

[imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters]

Chapter 11: Let The Games Begin

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. If I did, Albus would not be named Albus.

Apologies for legit disappearing again. Last time I updated I was finishing my Junior year of High School and I just graduated about 2 weeks ago! So I finally have time (and inspiration) to get back to writing again!

If Anneliese ever seems like she just...randomly gets really aggressive, don't quesiton it. Girl is going through puberty and has a lot of things going on at home that I know about but y'all don't (at least not yet).

Also, just in case anyone noticed, I did go back and rename the previous chapters because I thought of better names okay? Okay! *thumbs up*

Anyways, this is also posted onto my Fanfction.net account SomeKind0fMagic and my Wattpad somekindofmagic1 so you can check it out on there too!

Love Z <3

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Albus screamed as his covers were torn off of him and there was a yelling in his ear. Grabbing his glasses while mumbling and annoyed, "What the hell?" He looked around his room, a breath leaving his lips as he saw the red hair of his sister and his "Lily? Annie?" He saw the red hair of his sister and the short black hair of his best friend. "What're you guys doing waking me up at," He looked at the clock and groaned, "4 AM?" He looked at them again, as the sleep fogged his brain, he grew even more puzzled as to why they were fully clothed. "And what're you guys doing dressed?"

He heard Lily gasp dramatically, "Because...today's the Quidditch World Cup!" Albus ran his hand over his face, slowly waking up still, "And Mum has to get there by 6 AM so she can start to interview the two teams!" He rolled over onto his stomach, about to pull a pillow over his head with one of them grabbing it from his hand. "Mum wants you up so we can eat together. Now hurry up! We still need to get James up!"

He grumbled about being up and everything as he heard Annie sigh, "Lily, go on and wake up James. I'll make sure Albus gets up."

He heard a humph before a slight annoyance filled voice of Lily spoke again. "Fine." As he heard her fading footsteps, he felt his eyes grow heavy again and began to feel the comfort of sleep wrap around his cold body.

But before he could be rewrapped in the comfort of sleep, he felt a hand on his ankle before feeling his entire body being yanked down the bed. He screamed and turned around, finding Annie really was still there, staring at him. "Come on Albus. Told your mum I'd get you up so," She grabbed his arms and tried to pull him up. "I'm doing it." She walked over to his closet and looked inside, trying to find clothes for him to put on. "Besides, if you don't then I'm pretty sure that James will eat all the food."

He glared at her as he slowly walked over to her and grabbed a shirt hanging. "You're cold."

She shrugged and looked at him, "I have 6 older brothers, I've learned how to get you idiots up." She crossed her arms, "So are you gonna get ready now?" He grumbled as he pulled the shirt he had on, off. Just as he pulled the clean one on, he heard her continue. "And besides, I could've gotten ice cold water to pour on you." Barely, he saw her smirk, "And I still could."

His eyes widened as he began to move much quicker. "Alright. Alright. Just gimme a minute." She nodded as he looked around and grabbed a pair of pants. He was about to pull his pajama pants off when he remembered that Annie was there. He turned to her, "Can you like...turn around?" He watched as she rolled her eyes but did what he asked. Mumbling something about it not being like she'll actually see anything.

As he slipped his pajamas off and the pants on, he watched her walk out of the closet and back into his bedroom. He let out a sigh as he made his way back into his bedroom, running a hand through his hair, attempting to smooth it. But almost as soon as he stepped out, his brush hit him square in the chest, he gave Anne a look as she just laid back onto his bed.

"Ow?"

He heard her scoff, "Please, that didn't hurt."

"It could've."

"But it didn't." She pushed herself up on her elbows and he started to try and brush out his hair. "Trust me, if my sister Elina, who is almost 6 can handle it, you, a whole 12 year old, can."

He snorted, "Whatever." He tossed his brush back onto his bed, "Let's go."

She looked at him as if he was crazy, "No. You cannot possibly think that your hair is good."

He touched his hair and looked at it through the old mirror on his wall before looking back to her, "What?"

She grabbed the brush from off his bed and pulled him back over to his bed. Sitting behind him, she began to brush through. "I would be sorry for this ending up hurting, but the fact is, this is your own creation." He mumbled something about it being okay as she ran the brush through his hair. Neither of them even noticed his mum leaning against the door. "Seriously Al, do you ever brush your hair? It's like a bird's nest here."

"I think it's genetics." He mumbled, "My mom always has complained about all of our hair. Saying that it's from our dad."

She snorted as she finished up brushing through, running her hands through his hair as she went through, a finishing part in order to get it flatter. She sighed heavily as she tossed the brush over to the other side of the bed. "I think that's the best I can get, Al. Your hair is going to be my enemy as long as we're friends."

"Should I be sorry or should I just accept fate?"

"Accept your fate and you shall die peacefully."

"That is definitely smoother than I ever have gotten it."

The two kids started laughing but both let out a small scream and jumped, both nearly falling off of his bed, as they heard his mum speak. Their laughs transferred to her as they jumped, her hands coming up with her palms out in a surrender form. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you kids, I honestly had assumed you saw me." She sighed and pushed herself off of the wall, "If either of you want to eat before we head out, I would recommend going now. We need to leave in 10 minutes. Your dad and Uncle Ron just left plus Lily and James are currently eating so you have about 5 to get down there and get food."

As his mother said those last words, Albus practically jumped off his bed before running downstairs. Annie followed after him, shaking her head in amusement as his mother looked at them with fondness.

--------

Music and noises of all kinds surrounded everyone as they walked towards the site of the game. Just down the hill from the Portkey, the muddy old boot that they had been using since before Albus or even James had been born.

As they neared the tents and the people, Albus and Anne held onto Lily's hands tightly. Ginny had asked them to keep an eye on Lily, just in case there were any other reporters that would take photos of them, despite continuous wishes from Harry asking them to not take photos of his kids. The two of them knew that if they saw any camera pointed at them, they would start running (or smush her head into one of their chests).

But thankfully, that didn't have to happen. No one paid them any attention. All preoccupied with making sure that they were at their tent and everything was set up for them. Eyes more glued on the families of the players anyways. That was mostly who was there. Reporters, players and their families, plus a few Aurors and Hit Wizards. Those who chose to work the pregame instead of the main part so that they could enjoy the game with their families and friends.

Before they entered, Ginny looked at them all, "Alright, I should be back in an hour or two." She looked at all of them, well...mostly her kids and Anne. "Behave. Hermione is here if anything goes wrong, which nothing better happen. Understand?"

They all nodded, muttering agreements to be good. Anne even felt a small hint of joy that Ginny was being that way with her too. She was used to it from the parents of her other friends, but they had known her since she was born, Ginny hadn't. So the fact that she was treating her as she treated her own kids left her with a small sense of joy, something even Albus could see.

As she walked away, the four kids walked into the tent. James quickly made his way over to Rose and Hugo while the other three walked over to sit by Hermione. They watched in amusement as the other three began to place bets on who would win. But Albus felt a small tinge of guilt and envy as he watched them.

Guilt because Lily should be with them. She should be sitting with him and his friend. She shouldn't already be outcasting herself from their family just because they outcast him for his house. He felt as if she shouldn't be doing that. That she should be betting with them. He had seen the way that her and Hugo hadn't been as close as they always had been. Guilt ate at him, terrified that it was because of him. He knew that even at age 10, Hugo wanted nothing more than to have the acceptance of his dad. Something Albus was growing to understand.

A growing wish to be able to not disappoint his parents. But feeling like he wouldn't be able to just because of what house he was in. Something he hoped that Lily wouldn't have to feel.

And he was envious of them. Envious that they were laughing and playing with each other. He could only think about how that was him and Rose just a year ago. Laughing. Playing. Being friends. He didn't...couldn't understand why they now hated him because he was in Slytherin. Their parents, especially his and James', had raised them without that prejudice. Raised them to understand that house doesn't define a person, their actions do.

Him being friends with Scorpius Malfoy shouldn't have cost him his brother as well as his favorite cousin and best friend.

Deep down, he knew that he shouldn't be 12 years old and feeling all of these feelings. But he did and he couldn't control it. All he could do was hide it and pretend that he was okay. Because he was. Or at least he will be.

"--Yeah? Well at least Albus and Rose only have to wait 2 months before he can try out for the team! I have to wait another whole two years! It's totally unfair!"

Albus blinked his eyes a few times, trying to focus back into the moment. Not even having realized he had zoned out. "You're trying out Al?"

He shrugged, mind catching up and realizing that they were talking about Quidditch and tryouts for the house teams. "Yeah, I decided why not. I mean, there's no guarantee I'll make it. Slytherin isn't known for accepting second years plus don't we still have a Seeker?"

"Yeah? And? No one likes Dom on the team. He was just the only person that came close to being good. We've barely won a single game since he joined. Plus you have like...this whole legacy around you. Both of your parents, your dads dad, the majority of your mum's brothers! I mean seriously, if you don't make the team, Matt is literally crazy."

He rolled his eyes, "Sure. whatever." He laid his head in his hand, "So...when are you supposed to meet up with your family?"

"Probably whenever you guys head to your seats. I'll stop by and see if they're still at our tent, if they are, then I'll stay with them. If they aren't then I'll head over to our box." She snorted slightly, "We're sharing with the Malfoy's this year. Scor and I have a bet going on how long it's gonna take for Astoria to try and smack my dad."

He laughed, holding his hand over his mouth as an attempt to silence them but he couldn't. All he knew of how Scorpius's mum was with Annie's dad came from what they had told him. To his knowledge; Mrs. Malfoy hated Annie's dad. Said he was too controlling for her liking and apparently and almost threw a punch over something he had supposedly said.

Eventually, the laughter died down and Hermione spoke, "I honestly hope that the Welsh beat the States. That team isn't really good at anything, but the fact that they always choke out at the most important games."

"Sounds like the Slytherin team. We can do good until it matters. The few times we are in the running for first or second, we, well really Dom, chokes up and lose terribly and somehow end up in last place or barely making it to third. It's bloody ridiculous."

"Well that's stupid." Lily muttered and Annie nodded, laying her head on the table in front of her.

"But it's sadly true, do they still expect ya'll to play dirty?" Hermione asked softly.

Albus shrugged, "I have no clue."

But Anne nodded, "Yeah, they do." Albus glanced over at James as Annie spoke. He saw the glare in his brother's eyes. "It's ridiculously stupid, they know we won't. We can't risk it. And yet some teams try and provoke us." She crossed her arms, "I don't even care for Quidditch much but even I find that absurd.

A small layer of silence grew in the tent, not before James jumped up and declared something. Albus honestly didn't catch it as he watched the entrance to the tent. He knew Lily got up and went with James, but his attention was focused on the flaps that kept the tent closed. He wondered how the magic worked. How that if his parents hadn't given permission for a specific person to enter, they wouldn't be able to. That they would be shot back and away from the tent. He wondered how it worked. Did it work if the person was under the influence of polyjuice? Was the magic powerful enough to catch that or not?

He wondered if he hadn't asked them to, if they would have given Annie permission to enter. If they had given Scorpius. He wondered if his parents even liked his friends, he was so sure that they liked Annie, afterall, they were allowing him to stay the night and go to her brother's wedding that next week. There would be no way that they would let him do that if they didn't like her, right?

But maybe they just pretended to like her for his sake. She was one of his only friends now. Perhaps they only liked her because of that. Because at least that was someone who liked him, despite who his family was and the fact that he was becoming someone that he swore he wouldn't.

Despite the fact that he was growing and changing and slowly realizing just how different he was from the rest of his family.

--------

Albus had been at the pitch for nearly 18 hours by the time he was barely in his seat, watching as the two seekers shot down in order to catch the ever illusive snitch. He saw the way that they were neck and neck, hands outstretched, trying to grab the small golden ball. He saw the bludger making it's way to the seekers, holding his breath as the seeker for the United States pulled up and the bludger hit the Welsh seeker.

Near silence surrounded him as it felt as though everyone there were silently holding their breath. Waiting to see if the Welsh seeker caught the snitch. And that exact moment that they all saw him hold the snitch in his non-injured hand, cheers and screams erupted from the crowd. Albus looked at Teddy, who he was sitting by before the older boy engulfed him in a hug.

A pure feeling of glee and joy filled him up. A feeling that he rarely felt nowadays. He wasn't sure if he felt it from his team winning the game or the hug from his pseudo brother. But he knew that he felt it and that he needed to feel it. And he also knew that the tears that gently fell from his eyes weren't from joy, but sadness. A sadness that he was so sure would never leave him now.

--------

It was only 10:30 when they were finally out and back at the tent. Since they were celebrating a win, no one had to start to wind down until 12:30 so there was still another 2 hours before all of the kids had to get ready to get some sleep. But Albus was starting to realize just how hard it might be to stay up as he was still catching his breath from celebrating with Vic and Teddy and Lily, his eyes growing slightly heavy as they sat in a circle and played the muggle game Go Fish. Their Aunt Hermione had brought a few packs of muggle playing cards for them in case they were wanted.

His back was against one of the couches, zoning in and out of everything going on that he barely caught Teddy's question. "How was your first year Albus?"

He shrugged, trying to think of what to say quickly. "It was alright. I mean...it was weird not being home everyday and all that. But it was fun for the most part. I made friends easily." He tried to keep out the sleepless nights following the first several weeks. The fights and slowly growing self-hatred inside of him. Hide the fact that he rarely found solace in much outside of those in his house anymore.

Teddy nodded, "That's good. I won't lie, I was shocked when Vic sent the letter informing that you had been put into Slytherin. Afterall, no one in the family really has, unless you count my grandmother but she isn't really your family and all." Teddy laughed to himself before he continued, "But once the initial shock settled, I began to question why I, and anyone else for that matter, were surprised. Slytherin house has so many good traits that you embody that I honestly couldn't imagine you anywhere else."

He looked at him inquisitively, still playing the game. "Like what?"

"For starters, you're very cunning and resourceful. You see a problem and face it headfirst, most of the time at least. You know your way around tricky situations and you take on the leadership role whenever you have to. You set goals for yourself and you make them. Or at least you did when you were younger. Plus, you tend to weigh the pros and cons before you do something. However, that one is rarer."

"Huh." He faded for a moment, as if he was trying to understand what Teddy had just said. It made sense for him to be in Slytherin? But why? Everyone acts like it was a mistake and that he was nothing like the other Slytherin's before he had joined that house. Why was Teddy sitting acrooss from him and saying that he couldn't imagine him anywhere else?

Quickly, he cleared his voice, realizing they were waiting for him to continue his thought. "I never realized I did that."

Vic and Teddy laughed and he felt a minor tinge of embarrassment. Should he have realized that already? That everyone fits into their house, regardless if they realize it when they were sorted? Should he have noticed that by the time he had finished his first year?

"Don't panic if you didn't realize that." Vic assured, "Truly, you don't realize how much you are like your house until someone points it out." She gave him a soft and gentle smile. Something he saw her give all the younger students whenever they came to her throughout the year. "I didn't realize how many Hufflepuff traits I had for myself, besides the stereotypical niceness. For my first two or three years, I had just thought that that was all I had, because everyone said that was my best trait, and just put me in Hufflepuff. Which is ironic as I was called shallow for years but yet also nice? Never quite understood that." She drew a card since Lily didn't have the card she wanted. "But, as I went on, more people began to point out how I am apparently extremely patient with everyone and everything. I, like Slytherins and other Hufflpuffs, am very dedicated to different things that I believe in. For example, I am bloody dedicated to our family and my schooling." She smiled and pulled her hair to the side, "And I'm also dedicated to becoming a Healer since I got confirmation that I made it in to start training."

"So...will I start to fit into more Slytherin traits as I finish school?"

His fear began to raise as he thought of that. Thought of the new ways that Rose and James would start to hate him because of that. Because he was more and more Slytherin and less and less Gryffindor. Would James hate him for joining the Slytherin Quidditch team after years of them planning on playing together, James as the Chaser and Albus as the Seeker. Being the best thing to ever happen to Gryffindor's Quidditch team since their dad.

Would the disappointment grow worse as he got older?

--------

The world was nearly silent around him as Albus laid in his bunk. All that he could hear was the occasional drunk voice of someone outside and someone inside the tent snoring. He knew that all he had to do was get up and wake Teddy up and ask to talk, but that thought scared him. What if Teddy didn't actually care and was just telling him that out of courtesy?

He turned and stared at the crimson fabric that was the wall of the tent. He wondered if Teddy was right? Did he already have a bunch of Slytherin traits? Traits that he didn't have before? Or at least that he hadn't noticed? Were these...things that made him, him. That made him Slytherin. Were these things more obvious now that he was a Slytherin? Was he really so cunning and resourceful? He didn't feel resourceful. Always having to ask Annie for help on work. Would, or more of does, he really try to make his goal, even through deception and lies? He couldn't remember ever making a goal for himself and succeeding. He wondered that when he got older, would he be so Slytherin and make his end goal through ways of anger and deceit? Would he lie in order to get what he wants?

And did he really become the leader whenever he had to? He tried to think back on a time that he did, but he couldn't remember a single time. He never was a leader, more of a follower. He had always followed James and Rose around. Always done what they did. He guessed that maybe he was the leader of his small friend group, but he would honestly rather put that to Annie than himself. She was much better at keeping everyone in line and making sure everyone did what they were supposed to.

She was the perfect example of a good and nice Slytherin. Not Albus. Albus was none of those things. He was a liar and a traitor who betrayed his family because he didn't tell the hat not Slytherin like his father had done all those years ago.

He held back a groan as he put a pillow over his ears, trying to drown them out as the seven words echoed in his head.

Cunning. Resourceful. Leadership. Goal. Achieve. Pros. Cons.

But they wouldn't go away. Those words were bouncing around in his head. Teddy's nice way of saying them turned to James' sneers. The sneers and words he had heard others say about him since he started at Hogwarts. The words got so loud that he began to think about what James had said before Annie had come over. What he had said about her coming over.

----

James clenched his fists, "You're such a bloody disgrace to the family! Mum and dad fight because of your bloody house and it's causing a divide throughout the entire family! Thanks to you influencing Lily to be so Slytherin and evil like you, she's fighting with Hugo more! Petty arguments turn into full scale fights, all because of your stupid influence on her! You're nothing but a coward who hides behind older students! You'll never get anywhere with that. One day, Green's siblings will be gone and there won't be anyone to protect you at Hogwarts anymore."

----

He held his pillow tightly and whispered to not cry. He didn't want to cry over something so stupid. Over something that if James found out, he would make fun of him for. He didn't want to cry. If he cried then he would prove James right. He would prove that it was nothing. That he would never be anything more than a coward because someone who wasn't wouldn't let someone say that to him.

But Albus did and he always would. All because he didn't want people to hate him more. All because he thought that maybe, just maybe, if he didn't fight back against James, then he wouldn't hate him anymore. That was all he had to do. Remain the same kid he was and then James will still like him

[khuzena]

You'll never be a bother to me

Chamber x reader

Fluff and angst

"Hi, could you make a chamber x reader fluff + angst please? It can be abt anything! <ty!3" - @aernyx (why cant i tag AAAA)

Yooo! Im having brain fog rn and im rlly sick but i finished this request, finallyy

-----------------------------------

After a few months of joining the VALORANT protocol, chamber has proven himself as a very valuable asset to the protocol even though a lot of the members don't trust him. His skills and talents were great so brimstone would bring him to missions often yet the stress started to build up more. It's been 4 days since you've had any interaction wih him that atleast lasted for 5 minutes and it's starting to make you both feel lonely.

You decide to bring him some tea to his workshop so you can ease off the burden and stress on his shoulders.

On your way to his room, you noticed both jett and phoenix coming from the kitchen, "Hey what's up!" jett said while drinking from her juice box.

"Oh uh nothing, just here to visit chamber that's all." You shrugged and continued walking.

A sigh leaves phoenix then he chimed in,"I don't think it's the best idea to bother him now bruv. He's been very cranky these days and it's really terrifying."

"Yeah but you know what's more terrifying, phoenix? Your weird-ass hairline HAHA." jett laughed while nudging on his left arm.

"Whaddya mean by that?-" he replied but then jett started running away, "Come back over here you idiot!"

You huffed and just waved them goodbye while clutching the warm tea in your hand. Knocking on his door and waiting for a reply, but there was only silence. "Chamber, vincent can I come in?" No response again but as you leaned your ear onto the door you hear some metal clanking, almost like tinkering of his weapons again and silent cursing from inside. "Vincent, im coming in!"

Walking into the room you waved at him and put a cup of tea on his table.

He glanced at your physique for a while then continued to silently tinker with his weapons.

...

"Are you alright?" You asked him with concern and walked up to him. Trying to pat his hair but then he swatted your hand away.

"Mon amour I'm greatful for the tea but can you please go? You're being such a bother." He said and strongly emphasizing his words then turned his back on you.

'Oh.'

"Fine then, I'll go."- you scoffed and walked your way to the door -"You probably don't even need me here anyways."

He was too stressed to even ask for your comfort or even speak to you and he knew he messed up. The door behind him closed slowly which was worse than full on slamming the door on him. Chamber knew damn well he fucked up but as always, the stress got the best of him and continued to work on his project.

The next day, you couldn't sleep properly because the words he said to you last night kept ringing in your ears. As you sat up on the bed, you lazily rub your eyes and turned off the alarm and made your way to the bathroom.

Noticable eyebags and dried tear stains on your cheeks, you tried to wash it off and cover it with concealer but they'll find it out anyways.

Meanwhile in chambers room, he felt more tired than usual and couldn't stop thinking about how much he fucked up last night. He wants to apologize to you but he knows how mad you get when arguments like these arise.

He's thought about it for a while and came to a decision that he'll apologize you the moment he sees you again.

Walking out of his room, he quickly made his way to your room and softly knocked on the door and called out your name but no response. He tried to open the door knob and it actually worked, you didn't lock the door and he was confused. Checking your room, there were tossed tissues on the floor and a messy bed but no sign of you inside.

'fuck, fuck. Where the hell is y/n?' he thought to himself while exiting your room and deciding to go to the kitchen again.

While on his way to the kitchen he saw skye munching on some candy bar while sitting on a couch and asked her, "Have you seen y/n anywhere?"

To which she replied, "Hmm.. come to think about it I did see them but they quickly left with some snack in their hands. I think they were in a hurry."

"Oh. Well then, thank you. I'll go now then." He said and continued walking to the protocol's living room. It was quiet for a while until he saw the other agents doing their thing in the morning and some chattering here and there. But he paid no mind and kept scanning every corner of the rooms for maybe he can find you now.

He spent 5 minutes looking for you but there was still no sign of you, he was about to give up until omen and cypher bumped into him and they took the hint, but they thought for a while before saying, "Are you looking for y/n?" Omen said with a small knitted cat plush in his hands. "Ah yes I am, do you know where they are?" Chamber asked.

"I saw them run to the garden with snacks in their hands..." Omen replied and fiddled with his knitted cat. "Was it because of something that happened yesterday?" Cypher butted in and played with his tripwires. He shrugged and scoffed, "None of your business cypher. Anyways, thank you for that omen."

Chamber arrived at the garden and looked at every corner but he won't give up just yet. He checked every corner until he heard whimpering and silent eating behind a tree.

While you quietly ate your sadness away, you saw chamber walked up to you with a sympathetic look in his eyes and sat besides you. You looked away and continued eating but he broke the silence and uttered, "I'm sorry."

"You don't sound sorry." you knew you were being petty but you can't jsut ignore how you feel right now.

"Look im genuinely sorry, I didn't mean what I said last night. I promise to make it up to you." He apologetically murmured and took your hand.

Turning to look at him, you can see how guilty he is for his actions and just decided to accept his heartfelt apology.

"Fine, but if you do that again im ignoring you again for a whole week." You mumbled and hugged him as he softly smiles at you.

"Don't worry, mon cherie. You'll never be a bother to me and I'm deeply sorry. Je taime(I love you) y/n"

He pressed a kiss against your temple and laughed with you again. But from a distance that particular group watched both of you from a window,

"See I told them to not come to chamber's room when he's busy" phoenix joked while leaning on the wall.

"Don't worry, at least problem solved." Omen replied and left the room, leaving the knitted cat on your desk.

"Cypher how'd you find out they had a fight?" Jett asked with her lit up eyes and waited for his reply.

"Hmm.. I have my ways."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This was a long fic but i really enjoyed writing it even if I was teary eyed because i got a stupid abscess on my right leg, thanks for reading and requesting though!yours truly,

-zen

[ushiluv]

Late Night Drive 

skate rat!suna x reader 

When you accepted Suna’s confession, you did not know that it also meant accepting to go on a late night car ride with him to the other side of town to vandalize some old skate park that “belonged” to a bunch of guys he didn’t like. (wc: 2330)

warnings 

anal, squirting, overuse of pet names, reader has female anatomy, use of daddy, sex in public but there’s no one around, overstimulation, this is kinda really fluffy, cervix fucking, use of the word cunny, let me know if i missed anything! not proofread yet 

note from the author 

 i really enjoyed writing this so i hope you guys will like it! let me know what i can improve. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” you asked as you sat yourself down on the passenger side of your boyfriend’s car.

“Of course, princess, when have I ever not been sure of something?” he responded with a sly grin on his face.

“ ‘m just saying we could be in a lot of trouble if we get caught.”

“We won’t.” he made sure you put your seatbelt on and started the car “And if we do, you could just show them your tits and-” the punch you landed on his arm stopped him from finishing his sentence.

“You’re horrible.” you mumbled under your breath.

He didn’t respond, opted to offer you a chuckle and a squeeze to your thigh instead.

Suna was quite the phenomenon and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t have a crush on him prior to his confession. Truth be told, you had no idea he was into you; that’s why his confession came in as such a shock. You thought he was joking, so you lightly laughed when he spilled his heart out to you on a friday afternoon in a park near Inarizaki High. But the frown on his face and broken look in his eyes showed in every way possible that he was, in fact not lying. That’s why you quickly apologized and accepted his confession before admitting your own feelings towards him. You knew what kind of student he was and what he did in his free time, but you had no idea that he would ever drag you down with him in his rebellious tendencies.

After a few minutes of small talk backed up by Suna’s late night music playlist, you two arrived at the infamous abandoned skatepark. He got a bag full of spray paint cans from the backseat and handed you a pretty pink one.

“Thought of you when I bought it” he said after putting a black hoodie on.

A smile appeared on your face. “Oh how romantic of you my dear Rinnie.”

“Shut up.” he grumbled before getting out of the car.

After putting on one of his hoodies that he left purposely in the car for you, you got out and followed his footsteps. The place lived up to its name, it was abandoned. The rails were rusty, the bowls were full of dirt and weeds and the ramps seemed impossible to skate on. But, for some reasons that were unknown to you, not a single graffiti could be found on any surface. Your lovely boyfriend seemed to be the first one who had the idea of giving the palace new colours.  

“Why do people even come here? Seems gross to me.” you said as you took a closer look to the middle of one of the bowls. You swore you could smell death from it.

Suna shook the spray can he was holding. “Dunno.” He took your arm with his free hand and dragged you away from the bowl. “Just know they care a lot about this place for some reason. Come on now, I don’t wanna spend the night here.”

You followed him (not like you had a choice) and got ready to do your own share of damage. Suna giggled as he spray painted dicks and curse words all around the oh-so-important place and you could do nothing else than roll your eyes at his childish actions while you painted neon pink doodles. As you watched him paint a curse word that you were sure could not be found in any dictionary, you realize how deep in love you were with that man. Thoughts about your future together started fogging your brain and you could feel your cheeks heat up at the idea of spending the rest of your days with him.

“Babe look at- What’s wrong?” your arms suddenly flew around his waist and your face found place on his chest.

“Just thinking about how much I love you.”

You felt Suna relax as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too, baby, but look at what I just painted!” he turned you around, excited to show you his new artwork (if you could call it that).

It took about another twenty minutes for him to be completely satisfied with his new art piece. The place was definitely more colourful now, you had to admit that. Suna threw his cans and yours in his backpack and walked back to his car, hand in hand with yours.

He unlocked his door only and threw his backpack in the back as you waited for him to unlock your door so you could get it, but it seemed like he had other plans on how to end the night.

He walked around the car and reached to you, caging you between him and the car, arms on each side of your head.

“What are you doing?” you huffed.

He leaned down and licked the shell of your ear. “Just rewarding my princess for helping me tonight.” he whispered before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

Taking a hold of your shoulders, he moved you onto the hood of his car, bending you down against it. His hand moved from your shoulders to down your spine before finally squeezing your ass through your thin leggings.

“Been so good to me tonight, think you deserve a reward” he gave your ass a light squeeze.

“Y-yeah Rin, please.” it was crazy how that man managed to always make you forget how to talk.

As he knelt down on the concrete, he didn’t care about how you didn’t address him properly, he didn’t care about the little rocks that were digging in his knees through his sweatpants, all he cared about was making you feel good. He pulled down your leggings and panties, down enough for him to have a proper look at your already drenched pussy. He hummed to himself and thanked God, the Universe or whatever divine entity that was the reason for you to be in his life.

He didn’t waste any time and brought a finger to your already gaping hole, playing with it as he watched in awe at how much wetter you were getting from his ministrations.

“My little slut is getting turned on because she’s gonna get fucked in public?” he spoke “You’re so messy, princess, wish you could see this yourself.”

“Ah-” you jolted as you felt a finger penetrate you, “don’t tease me, daddy.”

“ ‘m not teasing, doll, you’re just eager.”

He removed the finger that was just in you and brought it to his mouth, sucking and licking at your juices that stuck to it.

“You always taste so good. Gonna let me have another taste, baby? Gonna let me eat your pretty cunny out in public?”

You whimpered. “Yes, yes yes, daddy please, wanna feel your mouth on me.” the cold metal of the hood started feeling really hot under your burning cheek.

“Whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

Suna gave a lick with a flat tongue to your labia, gathering your wetness in his mouth before wrapping his lips around your clit. His tongue switched from playing with your little bundle of nerve to licking your hole. The stimulation drove you crazy, you could feel yourself become closer at every flick of his tongue on your clit. He suddenly removed his mouth from your pussy and switched his tongue for his fingers. The sensation made you squeal from surprise. Three of his fingers were now filling your hole while his thumb took care of stimulating your hardened clit.

“Gonna try something, doll, alright?”

Too busy chasing your high, you nodded eagerly. You had no idea what he was saying, the only information you picked on from his voice was that he asked you a question and you trusted Suna with all your heart. That’s why your whole body jolted when you felt a finger press against the ring of your asshole.

“Rin!”

“Shh, focus on how good I’m making you feel. Can feel you clenching around my fingers, puppy, this is gonna make you feel even better.”

He spat against your hole and allowed the tip of his finger to go past the rim. The sensation was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. You only were closer to your climax when you felt his finger try to go deeper.

“Fuck! Daddy!” you screamed as you gushed around his three digits.

“That’s a good girl, fuck.” Suna praised. “Fuck, you never came so hard. I knew that you were a slut but I didn’t know you were such a dirty one.” he teased as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Just need a finger in your other hole to make you squirt, uh?” his dirty words made you whine in protestation, you didn’t even know you could cum like that.

You pushed his hand away when the rubbing against your clit made you feel too overstimulated.

“Stop it daddy… ‘s too much.”

He got up and manhandled you onto your back.

“I know baby, just need to feel you cum around my cock now. Can you do that for me? Gonna be a good doll and squirt on my cock? Promise this will be all for tonight.”

You nodded weakly, still trying to get over the aftershock of the powerful orgasm you just had. He grinned at you and leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a small taste of yourself on your lips. His hands reached down for the hoodie you were wearing and the shirt underneath it, he pulled both up enough to have a view on your pretty tits.

“Knew you were not wearing a bra.” he gave a playful pinch to your nipples.

You whined and pushed his hands away before reaching down to the band of his sweatpants to remind him of what he was supposed to do with you.

“You’re so impatient, princess, you’re lucky I love you” he mumbled.

Your heart warmed up at his words, they were like a little reminder that you were his and he was yours. “I love you too, daddy.”

He completely took your legging off and pulled his sweatpants and boxers down to his thighs. His cock was hard and red, the mere sight of it was enough to make you drool. Bringing a hand around its base, Suna started to run his tip over your puffy clit, allowing his cock to be coated of your wetness.

“You’re so shamelessly messy, puppy.” he moaned as he put the tip in, “and so fucking tight. God, no matter how many times I fuck you- you were made to take my cock, right doll? No one else’s.”

“Hmm- Only yours daddy! ‘Was made to only take you”

He groaned as he bottomed out, the wetness of your previous orgasm making it so much easier. Remembering how hard you came earlier, he started fucking you harder with the only goal in mind to make you gush as hard as he just did. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix and reaching that one spongy spot only him could reach. You were seeing stars- figuratively and literally.

“Daddy you’re so deep” you moaned.

“I know baby, but you love it right? You love having me this deep. Say it.”

“I love it daddy! No one- no one else can fuck me like you do.”

Satisfied with your answer, Suna didn’t take mercy on you and started pounding harder into your gummy walls. Feeling you clench around him, he spat on your hardened clit and started toying with it with his thumb, just like you liked. The added stimulation only heightened your senses. You could feel everything, from the way his thumb was rubbing circles around your clit to the hard vein on his cock that felt painfully good every time he thrusted into you. Before you knew it, your orgasm started building up in you much more powerful than the one you previously had.

“Da- Daddy ‘m gonna make a mess again.”

“Yeah? Gonna gush around me? Come on pretty I know you can do it, gonna make your pretty little cunny cum.”

His other hand started toying with your hard nipple and that pushed you over the edge, cunt spasming around him and juices squirting on his old black hoodie, you came on the hood of your boyfriend’s old car. You moans were nothing compared to the grunts and groan that left Suna’s mouth, he seemed to be enjoying this more than you did.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” a few more thrust inside your walls were enough for him to spill his load into you.

He leaned down on you and hugged you, chest pressed against yours. You two stayed like that for a second, in a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, he pulled out of you with a wince as he saw his cum spill out of your hole. He was quick to pick up your leggings and panties and helped you put them back on.

“Don’t waste precious cum.” he said as you pulled your leggings up.

“Maybe if you stopped fucking me raw-”

“Shh, you love it.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple and opened the car door for you.

“Get in, we’re getting food.”

You excitedly clapped your hands, ready to spend some more time with him.

“And then we’re going back to my house, really gotta make you squirt again.”

“You’re a fucking perv, Suna Rintarou.”

“You’re in love with this perv.”

You smiled, because that was the complete truth.

na: sorry for the rushed ending im exhausted </3 

[jujywrites]

Unheavy

oh my GOSH this WIP has been in my folders for so long............. I had a lot of fun finally finishing it. brandy-new fresh fic starring my most beloved trio~

AO3 (with art!!! By others I commissioned not me ahaha)

FF.net

or keep reading

~~~

Tohru felt unnerved when she couldn't read Kyo's eyes, even after the years she'd spent with him. It had taken him so long to let his emotions fully out so they were visible in sideways glances and half-lidded stares, visible in the myriad ways his irises changed shade. When he'd felt safe enough to do that it had been such a fragile gift, one she had to treat gently lest it disappear.

She had other things to read now. His body language, his touch, his voice. She had that intangible trusting bond with him. Faith in all of that had to be enough now.

Wasn't it?

"You're worrying again," he said next to her in bed that evening, voice sleepy-slow. "I can hear you."

She turned on her side to face him, curling her hand around his. "I'm thinking about what you said today. That I should go talk to him. You said you were ready, that you want me to, but I…"

"You still aren't sure I meant it?"

She had gotten better at reflex apologizing, but she offered a small one with her smile. "Your eyes didn't seem to match your words."

"Oh… I see." He kissed her forehead, inhaled against her skin. "Maybe some part of me isn't ready. But if that's true, I can't feel it." When he pulled back into her field of vision, he had a sunset smile. "I'm as eager to see what happens next as you are. Please, please go ahead."

A weight dissolved from her chest. With an answering smile, she shut her eyes and cuddled into his chest. "Kyo-kun."

"Tohru."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you. Sleep well."

###

Yuki was too old for this kind of thing. What full-grown adult turned into a high-schooler whenever his old crush came around? When they were quite firmly and comfortably friends, at that? And when his best friend was her fiancé?

Him. Unfortunately. Every time he saw Tohru, another piece fell from the wall keeping certain words contained, and today the wall took another hit. A big one. Because here she was at his apartment, unannounced, with a basket of freshly-made mochi for no reason other than she wanted to bring him some. Well, the sweets weren't unusual, but the rest certainly was.

"Please come in," he said when his brain broke through the fog of pleasant spring smells from the breeze behind her.

"It's been a while!" Tohru smiled as she said it, removing her shoes and stepping inside.

He couldn't help a small laugh. "We had lunch last Thursday."

"Ah, well—" She laughed too, cheeks coloring. "Kyo and I have been so busy, it feels longer than that. Oh!" She reddened further. "I, I don't mean to keep you long..."

"Not at all. The bookstore closes early on Saturdays."

"It's Saturday! Of course. I knew that." More laughter, flailing hands (he took the basket gently from her arm).

"How's Kyo?" he asked as he set the basket on the table. A nudge toward familiar ground.

"He's wonderful! This week was much better. He had a breakthrough with Fudou-kun, you know, at the dojo? They really connected, and Fudou-kun's technique has improved so much…"

He listened intently, asking questions here and there, only briefly distracted by her eyes or how she seemed to have absorbed the perfume of the outdoors.

He could listen to her talk forever. (He could listen to her talk about Kyo forever.)

"Here." She pulled two mochi from the basket and handed him one. "I've been talking so much we haven't tried these yet!"

He bit into it to avoid thinking about the crinkle around her eyes as she took a bite.

And then he couldn't think about anything for a few seconds, a sweet strawberry filling lighting up his taste buds so strongly he barely held back a noise that would have been embarrassing. The surrounding mochi tasted like something complementary—basil, maybe—and was the perfect consistency. He finished it swiftly and reached for another while he tried to think of what to say.

"Delicious…!" Wiping her mouth delicately, Tohru smiled at him in a way that made his pulse speed up just a bit, then said, "Kyo made those."

Heat on his neck; he couldn't blush, he wouldn't. "Really?"

She nodded, taking another. "He was so nervous, but he really wanted to. He remembered how much you love strawberries, Yuki-kun."

Yuki paused, mochi halfway to his mouth. The air changed, pressing in on him. "They are delicious." He finished that mochi, then said, "I need to thank him when I see him again."

She made an assenting noise, hands clasped on the table. "He'll be very happy you like them!"

He could still smell flowers around her. The air was still heavy. He sat up on his knees and reached across the table, sweeping Tohru's hair back from one shoulder.

Her eyes widened, pink creeping into her face. "Yuki-kun, I—"

Her mouth, too, tasted like strawberries. Her lips moved against his after a moment, and he thought her hand was on his shoulder—then all of a sudden, the hand bracing him began shaking up through his arm, and he pulled back breathing shallowly.

He stared, she stared back, and his heart sank. "Tohru." His voice was reedy; he tried again. "I'm, I'm sorry, I don't know what—"

But she stood and moved to his side of the table, hands spread placatingly. "Yuki-kun, Y-Yuki, no, it's all right." She spoke quickly, kneeling beside him. She put a hand over his shaking one. "I need to tell—"

A sharp gasp cut her off; she bent double, forehead hitting Yuki's shoulder, a pained "oh" escaping her.

"Tohru?!" His hands flew to her shoulders, but he didn't know whether to hold her or prop her up. "What's wrong?"

With a groan, she straightened and met his eyes. She'd gone pale. "I think… O-Ow." She winced.

Blinking, he followed her gaze down to see her arms wrapped around her belly.

"I mean, I didn't think—" She hissed and leaned against him again. "Oh, Yuki, I'm sorry. I need to go back to mine, Kyo has— there's— it hurts, Yuki, please…" Her voice was steady despite the broken words and her trembling body.

"Of course." He stroked her hair, willing his heart rate to calm. "It's okay, sweetheart, everything will be fine."

(He realizes he said the endearment out loud far too late.)

###

Kyo didn't expect Tohru to come back being carried bridal-style by Yuki, but maybe things had gone well.

One look at her pale face told him they had not.

"She just collapsed," Yuki said, barely out of breath from the stairs, voice calm but eyes full of panic. "I didn't know what else to do."

Kyo's stomach clenched while he took Tohru gently from him; she felt overheated even though she was shivering. "Shit. Was something wrong with the mochi?"

"N-No." Tohru blinked up at him. "Kyo, I need the heating pad, a-a-and—" She moaned weakly, hiding her face against him.

Oh. "Oh, okay." Face flushing more from Yuki's possible secondhand embarrassment than anything else, he made a path to their bedroom, saying to Yuki, "You can come."

"Let me walk, please," Tohru said when they entered, and Kyo let her down despite his misgivings. She wobbled toward the bathroom. "I need to get a, um…"

He coughed and told Yuki, "Heating pad's in the hall closet." Then he detoured to her underthings drawer and followed Tohru, getting her aspirin and a glass of water while she equipped her armor (an offhand joke that had stuck).

Yuki had plugged the heating pad in by the bed when the two of them came back, and pulled back the bedcovers without being asked. His anxious fluttering nearby was oddly comforting, after Kyo settled her in.

"I'll set it for half an hour," he said, handing her the pad to adjust. "When was the last time you looked at the calendar?"

"It came early, I think." She gave a wan smile.

"Well, I figured that much."

She giggled and immediately winced, breathing raggedly.

"Okay, baby, just lie down." He stroked her forehead when she did, watching her carefully, laying his other hand feather-light over her abdomen. "Would more pressure help?"

She shook her head; he took his hand away.

"Temp's good?"

"Yes." She sighed, eyes closing.

"Good. You're home and comfy, you're gonna feel better really soon."

He felt Yuki close by him while he waited for her to fall asleep, and held back the urge to take his hand.

When her breathing deepened, when it had evened out for some time, he sighed softly and slowly got up from the bed. "Come on," he said to Yuki, taking a few steps to sit on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Shouldn't we leave?" Yuki followed anyway, sitting beside him.

"Nah. She'll sleep through anything for a while now." He tilted his head back against the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes. Just a few moments.

"Your mochi's still at my place," Yuki said, quiet voice sounding loud in the silence.

"No problem." He grinned, feeling warm when Yuki smiled back. "They were for you, after all. How were they?"

"When are you going to make more?"

This guy. "Whenever you like." And he took Yuki's hand before he thought anymore. "I hoped you'd like 'em." Then, because he was internally panicking, he changed the subject. "So what did you do to her?" he said, in a lightly ribbing tone.

Whether Yuki's blush was from the hand-holding or the comment was (thankfully) impossible to tell. He looked down, maybe at their hands. "I… well, I…" Then he looked up, directly at him, and said so softly Kyo wanted to lean in, "I kissed her."

"You… kissed her." He kept his face neutral and his breathing even. There was a chance he'd misheard. Then again, if things were moving faster than he thought…

"I kissed her," Yuki said a bit louder, his hand clenching in Kyo's. "Kyo, I'm sorry, I said that to her too, but she'd been looking at me and I just felt— something and I really didn't mean to but she wasn't upset, at least I don't think so, she tried to say something before s-s-she���!"

"Hey." He clapped his other hand to Yuki's shoulder, squeezing. "Breathe easy, idiot. I'm not gonna kill you."

Yuki shook his head with a weak laugh. "Now I know why she was in pain. I seriously thought I'd caused her harm."

"You could never. Besides, sometimes her cycle gets thrown off by stress she's causing herself."

"If I made it worse, then—"

"Nope." He squeezed Yuki's shoulder again and lifted their joined hands, contemplating for a moment before gazing at Yuki again. "Stress can happen because of good things too."

He saw that blush returning and purposely waited. At least part of Tohru's instinct had turned out to be correct, so maybe he could… Well. He wasn't planning to bust the guy's ass too hard, but what was the harm in a little bit of fun?

"She did have something she wanted to tell you," he said more softly, leaning in just a bit. "And she was excited to tell you. She'd been wanting to for days, Yuki. The mochi was an excuse and a reason."

Yuki opened his mouth to speak (and Kyo wasn't going to, he was not, he'd wait for—).

"So you'll have to wait until she wakes up." He allowed a half grin. "I'm not taking it away from her just because her uterus decided to be a brat."

The grin grew full at Yuki's desperately stifled laughter. "Kyo—"

"I literally do not care, and you shouldn't either, especially since Tohru doesn't. I mean, it took me a while until I realized I felt weird about it just 'cause I figured she felt really weird about it, since ninety-nine percent of dudes are like, actually weird and really stupid about it. Not buying tampons or whatever, or flipping the hell out seeing or hearing about tampons, for fuck's sake. It's her period, it's normal, fucking grow up."

He blinked then, taking in Yuki's expression; it was the smile that showed everywhere but on his mouth. His own face felt warm suddenly. "Okay, so I didn't mean to rant at you, specifically? I just have… opinions on this shit."

"You're really good for her," was all he said, a few beats later than Kyo would've liked.

"I mean. It's basic human decency…" Oh my god, shut up. Idiot.

"Either way," Yuki said, and then he smiled with his mouth too, and Kyo saw for the millionth time why 99% of Kaibara High had been in love with him, and that hadn't even been the real Yuki. He almost smirked, realizing. This Yuki was all theirs. His and Tohru's.

"Do you think some tea would help her feel better?"

From the floor, Kyo blinked up at Yuki standing, at his held-out hand. The train of thought had disoriented him. "Uh, well, if you're offering…"

He'd swear Yuki sparkled at him. "Oh, tea is one of the few things I've learned how to make properly."

"My god, the prince figured out how to boil water," he intoned, taking Yuki's hand and rising to his feet. "Fuckin' miracle."

Yuki just grinned.

In the kitchen, he tugged Kyo around with him rather than dropping his hand. Damn it, waiting for Tohru was going to be tougher than he thought.

"Where do you keep your… oh, wait, I remember." Yuki needed both hands to retrieve the teabox (one of many) from its upper cabinet. "And then…"

Honestly, he moved around their kitchen like he lived there (had he really been over that often?). Kyo stood and watched, hands behind his back, fighting a hiccup-y feeling in his chest.

"Please, sit," Yuki said. "I promise I've got this."

So Kyo sat on the cushion at the living area table, just outside of the kitchen. It was a funny feeling that he could probably turn his back and Yuki would still be fine, but he faced the kitchen anyway, not wanting to look away from him.

Watching Yuki gave room for other thoughts to crowd Kyo's brain. For instance: no, he wasn't theirs, yet or ever; even if he wanted to be with him and Tohru, nobody belonged to anybody. And really, she hadn't even asked yet. Maybe this secrecy wasn't for the best in the first place… But no again. It was Tohru's idea, her plan, and he trusted her to know what she was doing.

When it came down to it, she knew both of them better than anyone.

Kyo knew him pretty well too, though, and he wouldn't even think about teasing him if not for the... vibes he'd been giving off, today and in the past. For all the clichés about animal instincts, it still held true for the two of them. And Kyo's instinct was giving him a kind of hope he'd be afraid of if it weren't for Tohru.

What he meant by theirs wasn't ownership, of course not. More like… all for each other, in a way that no one else knew or understood but them. Yep, he was a hopeless romantic. And he'd kill anyone who found out, besides Tohru.

And besides Yuki. He wouldn't mind Yuki knowing, eventually. Because— because Kyo really…

He sighed and laid his head on his arms.

###

Making tea was a form of meditation for Yuki. Teen Yuki, or even the Yuki of two years ago, wouldn't have thought such a thing was possible. But he always liked drinking it, and gardening, and one time he brought home a stack of library books devoted to cultivating, planting and brewing so-called tea plants. He'd become determined, all of a sudden, to be at least moderately less of a menace in the kitchen, and making tea seemed a good place to start. Every so often Kyo or Machi or Tohru would help (mostly by ensuring nothing caught on fire), but he had insisted on doing as much as he could on his own.

He had quite the repertoire now. Knowledge about brewing bagged tea and pre-made loose leaf mixes, yes, but he'd also gained the courage and ideas to create fresh mixes of his own (taste-tested first, of course). If he had planned this visit to Kyo and Tohru's apartment, he would've brought some mixes with him. They had only tea bags, though a nice variety. He selected the chamomile after brief consideration.

"Oh," he said under his breath, a verbal lightbulb. He'd bring some next time as thanks for Kyo's mochi. She might like that ginger-mint mix. Kyo… maybe blackberry? Or maybe…

The kettle whistled, shaking him out of reverie. He moved on autopilot; three cups, on to the tray, lift. "It's ready," he announced as he turned, "but maybe Tohru is still…"

He trailed off; Kyo had essentially face-planted on the table. Blinking, he traversed the distance, set the tray down, and was lifting a cup when Kyo lifted his head. "You look like you could use yours now." He held it out. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, no, it's—" was he blushing? "—just the adrenaline draining, I guess. Didn't know what happened to her at first and all." He took it, took a sip, mumbled, "Thanks. Thought you were just making it for her."

Yuki sat with his own cup, though he wanted to check on Tohru; he'd let Kyo lead on that. "I made a full pot, there's three of us, why not." After a brief drink, the warmth almost burning, he asked, "Do you like blackberries?"

A blank stare. "I guess so. Why?"

"My latest tea is blackberry. I could bring you the mix if you'd like." Feeling vaguely nervous, he jiggled one leg under the table.

Kyo brightened (Yuki stopped fidgeting). "Oh, nice. Sure. Tohru likes those fruit and flower teas, too." One long drink, a sigh, and then he continued, "I should probably make more mint tea for this part of her cycle. Help her stomach. Or, like, ginger or something."

Belatedly realizing he'd basically been staring at Kyo the entire time, Yuki said (with only a little stumble), "Ah, w-well, I'm actually working on a ginger and mint tea, I don't know if it'll combine well but I—"

"No kidding? We'll try some." With a flash of a smile, Kyo added, "Hey, maybe you can give us some tips on brewing our own stuff. But, I mean, not like we have much room for a garden here…"

Completely unprompted?! He tried to keep his rising happiness inside. "You don't need much room. Even just a windowsill is a fine starting place." Half of him dearly wanted to expand on plant types, the amount of sunlight, and everything else; the other half was deeply embarrassed and also aware of the third untouched cup of tea, so he stopped himself.

"Tohru's ahead of me, then," Kyo was saying, "with her window herb gardens and stuff—"

Does she grow rosemary? That's great with lemon. But lavender tea!!!

"—let's bring her tea before it cools too much."

"R-Right." He stood, reaching for the cup at the same time Kyo did, brushing fingers. He couldn't stop a nervous chuckle, cursing his again-warm cheeks when he said, "After you."

But Kyo was also, most definitely, blushing this time. "Sorry."

Yuki let him lead the way, hovering in the bedroom doorway while Kyo entered.

He had to hide a smile that would have been much too wide when Kyo told him to come in too.

###

Eyes closed, Tohru could feel herself rising out of sleep. Kyo and Yuki's voices were a distant, comforting noise; she lay still and let the sound roll over her while awareness seeped in.

The bed was warm and soft. Her cramps were gone. Her head… felt a little… too big? Bruised? Not a headache, yet, but something to move carefully with. She was thirsty. She wondered what the boys were talking about. An unstoppable yawn welled up and with it, she opened her eyes.

She felt her smile moments before actually recognizing what she saw: Kyo at the foot of the bed, trying to move quietly to her side. A steaming cup of tea in his hand. And behind him, in the doorway…

"You're up," Kyo said. "Unless I woke you." Then he looked over his shoulder, said, "Come on in," and Yuki entered.

Her body didn't mind sitting up despite the odd fizziness settling into her veins, but shaking her head still felt like a bad idea, so she just said, "You didn't." She took the cup he held out to her and inhaled deeply— chamomile— before taking a careful sip; almost instantly her general unwellness faded somewhat. "Thank you."

"Sure. I just brought it to you, though. This guy—" he jabbed his thumb at Yuki, now standing beside him, "made it."

Yuki nodded, cheeks slightly pink.

"Thank you too, Yuki-kun."

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Oh, much better! Thank you for—" Memory flashed over her then, everything that had happened from when she stopped on Yuki's doorstep; she cut herself off with another sip. "...I'm so sorry I worried you."

"No, please," he said, stepping forward, "I'm sorry you were in such pain. And I'm glad you're feeling better."

He was close enough for her to reach for his hand. She didn't. "This will help," she said into the teacup. "It's been a while since I had chamomile."

"I forgot it was in there, to be honest." Kyo, laughing drily, scratched the back of his neck.

She smiled at him. "I bought too many boxes last week. I suppose that was some kind of premonition," she said to Yuki. Then she finished her tea and set it aside, stretching her arms above her head.

Kyo made a noise. "You sure you're ready to get out of bed?"

A giggle left her; her reaction to how did he know-of course he knows. "I think I'd like some air." She slid carefully out from the covers and straightened her dress, a brief blush passing over her as she did.

She walked past the boys in bare feet–that's right, Kyo had removed her shoes–and left the room, making her way to the small balcony off the living area. In her peripheral vision, Yuki went toward the kitchen with her teacup.

Outside, the sky was darker now, a light breeze scented with the promise of rain soothing her too-warm skin. It was easier to breathe out here, and the headache threatening at the back of her skull receded with each inhale. Had it been like this when she got back home? She could only remember Yuki picking her up when the pain made it impossible for her to stand, let alone walk. She had leaned into his chest and shut her eyes, listening to his heartbeat, part of her worried over his lungs with the spring pollen. But his breathing stayed strong the whole way back, and his grip on her had never wavered. His body heat had calmed her chills.

He had kissed her. She remembered that, too.

"Hey, you."

Kyo was so quiet. How long had he been out here? She half-turned, a smile getting halfway out. "Hi."

Eyes warm, he put his hands on her shoulders. He gazed out at the sky as he spoke. "You wanna talk to him alone? He told me what happened when you visited him. I… didn't tell him anything back."

"I thought he might." Looking up at him, she leaned back against him, laying her hands over his. "That's a good plan, I think. He might be very confused." And she laughed quietly, even though the situation wasn't (that) funny.

"Okay. You can come find me when you're done."

She nodded; he stepped away. "Wait, Kyo-kun."

At the threshold, he turned back to her, one eyebrow raised.

"Kiss," she said, reaching for him.

Smiling, Kyo caught her up and leaned to meet her lips.

She kissed him hard, delighting in the gently surprised noise he made, but pulled away regretfully when his tongue flickered along her lips. I love you. "I love you so much."

"Love you too, baby."

In the few minutes she was alone again on the balcony, Tohru thought about what to say and how to say it. She hadn't planned every word but she'd had a plan, and the cramps and everything else had disrupted it.

She was still thinking when Yuki walked onto the balcony next to her and said, "Kyo told me you want to speak with me."

She glanced at him, her hands coming to rest on the balcony railing. "Yes."

Time to do, not just think. Was he nervous? Anticipatory? Hopeful? She was. All three and more.

"Earlier today," she began, "I meant it when I said it was fine, when you kissed me. It was fine because of what I came by to talk to you about before… I got my period." This last part was mumbled; she didn't know yet Yuki's comfort level with talking out in the open about menstruation, and for all her (hard-won) ease with the topic, it still felt strange to say aloud to someone who wasn't Kyo, or Machi, or Saki or Arisa.

She kept going. "There isn't an easy way to say this, so… So I'll just say it. Yuki." A lump rose in her throat, a sharp ache, just from saying his name. Crying wouldn't do. She got hold of her emotions and tried again. "I care for you so, so very much. Kyo does too. We have for a long time now, and I know you care for us." The weight of what she'd waited to say for so long settled over her, a tingle at the base of her spine; she breathed in and out, wet her dry lips, tried to make herself look at Yuki and found she couldn't move. "And so, for the past couple of weeks we've been talking about… us. About you, and me, and him, a-a-and— Well, at first I felt guilty, and greedy, and I didn't know what to do so I hid it." She smiled briefly. "Kyo knows me well enough that I can't hide how I'm feeling from him for long, though. I thought he might be upset. But he'd been going through the same confusion I had, and then we talked, and talking made us realize that both of us had… we have… feelings for you."

Her hand had moved closer to Yuki's on the railing, she noticed suddenly; they were pressed close now, her pinky grazing his thumb. She wondered if he felt hers shaking. "Oh, Yuki, we love you." The words propelled her; she took a breath, turning her gaze from their hands to his face, warmth high in her chest. "I love you, Yuki. I want to be with both of you, I want you to be with both of us, because in every future I can imagine all three of us are there, always. No matter the feelings among us."

He blinked a few times, mouth parted. His hand didn't move from hers.

"S-So." She moved first. She had to look away, gripping the railing more tightly; her knees felt weak all of a sudden. "Th-That's what I wanted to tell you when I– when I came to s-see you today."

In the silence, she tried and failed to count her heartbeats. She'd done it, she'd done it, she'd done it, felt stripped raw and unbearably alive but what if she was wrong—

"Well. It sounded easy enough from here."

How she felt about Yuki's eyes was the opposite of how Kyo's eyes made her feel. Sometimes it was unnerving how much she could read in them. He had been closed off to her for so long, able to hide his true feelings far behind his irises, in princely smiles. It was better that he no longer did it, of course it was, she was proud that he'd found the courage; there were times, though, that the depth of feeling in them could overwhelm her.

Maybe after this moment, she wouldn't be overwhelmed anymore.

His steady voice, so ambiguous, made her look into his eyes, and he didn't look away. Happiness, relief, love; Yuki's eyes reflected all she felt for him and about him. And they were like magnets: she stumble-stepped toward him, hands coming to rest against his chest, even though he hadn't said anything, even though she should wait—

"I really… I never imagined I would hear something like that. Is this a dream?"

She couldn't help herself; her hands rose to touch his face, thumbs swiping gently at his tears. "I hope not," she said, her own eyes stinging, "because if you're dreaming then so am I."

He smiled like a summer sunrise, then leaned down until his forehead touched hers. "I love you," he whispered. "And I love Kyo. More than I ever thought I could. I want to be with you both."

"Oh…!" Tears slipped from her closed eyelids. "Oh, good. I'm— I'm so—" She was laughing and crying, and she put her hands behind his neck, and she pulled his mouth down to hers.

From somewhere very far away, she heard rainfall begin. She felt a light spray, carried by a gust of wind. All of it was eclipsed by Yuki's lips moving against hers, by his hair between her fingers, by his hands at her back pulling her into him.

Then she was laughing again, the kiss broken as he swung her into his arms, into a princess carry, just like before. "It's a thunderstorm," he said, laughing too, thunder rumbling above them just then. "Let's go in."

With the overhang keeping them dry— no, even in the pouring rain— Tohru could have kissed him forever. But she wanted to see Kyo equally badly. And so she looped her arms around his neck, and he carried her back inside, right to Kyo sitting on the couch, where he sat down too.

Dizzy with feeling, she let herself fall back into Kyo's lap, her legs stretching across Yuki. "Kyo-kun, Kyo-kun," she sang, smiling so wide it almost hurt. "I told him."

An impossibly soft smile rested on his face. "You told him, huh?"

"I told him!"

"She did." Yuki was smiling too.

"And!" It was a squeak; her feet wiggled with giddiness. "And I kissed him, I hope you don't mind, and, and so…"

"Oh, I don't blame you." He ran a hand through her hair, smiling wider. "Would've done the same thing if I were you. Well." He turned, eyes meeting Yuki's. His hand left her hair to touch his cheek. "Guess it's my turn."

Yuki closed his eyes, leaning in.

She watched them. Watched Kyo take hold of Yuki's face with both hands, fingers pressing into his jawline, like he never wanted to let him go. Watched Yuki lean into Kyo, fitting so perfectly, one of his hands clutching Kyo's shirt; the other was slack and shaking over her ankles. So she took his hand with both of hers and held it on her belly, not because she was in pain (blissfully, she wasn't at all) but because she needed something to hold her down lest she float away from pure joy.

It wasn't long before they pulled back, their foreheads touching like hers and Yuki's had been minutes before. Kyo's hand covered hers holding Yuki's (and Yuki gripped hers so very tightly), and he said, "Sorry we kept you waiting."

Yuki laughed, or maybe it was a sob, and he put his arm around Kyo's shoulders, pulling in. "Please treat me kindly."

Tohru would have laughed if she weren't already stunningly full of emotion.

As it was, Kyo did for her, snickering and hugging him back. "I'll do my best," he said solemnly.

That broke her, had her laughing until her stomach hurt in a good way, until she needed a tissue to wipe away (more) happy tears. After that she returned to the couch and wedged between them, their hands finding hers as they'd done for years. Except…

Except now they were all walking together on a new path, with so much to see and with so much time to explore, even as her mind thrummed with impatience to start right that instant. She settled that impatience minutely by kissing Yuki's cheek and then Kyo's. And when they returned her kisses in perfect sync– why, she would have melted into the couch if they weren't all pressed together, unmoving.

She wondered if her eyes looked as bright to them as theirs did to her.

[ciceroandlucien]

They awoke the next morning, snuggling on top of the blankets. Cicero was immediately flustered and apologized.

“Mjari, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep–”

“Cicero, it’s okay,” she yawned, stretching her arms over her head. At some point in the evening she had removed her outer top and was down to a plain tunic and her pants from the day before. Cicero averted his eyes.

Mjari stood, grabbing her top to redress herself. 

“I need to get back to Haelga’s and let the meadery know I’ll be here another day, but can we meet at the stables?”

Cicero was still reeling from waking up beside Mjari but he managed to squeak, “of course.”

“And if you don’t mind, could you show me the wet exit to this place? I think I’d prefer that over going through the Ratway alone.”

Cicero nodded, biting his lip. He led her out of the bedroom, through the central room and up the steps to the smithing area. He pointed to the water. “Under there is an exit. It’ll drop you out by the docks.”

Mjari thanked Cicero and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze before climbing down into the water. She held her breath, dipped under and was gone. 

Cicero stood silent, his mind racing. He was confused, so very confused, but mixed in with that was a sort of happiness. An excitement. 

After a moment he snapped out of his daze and went to his room. He put on a leather suit of armor in case they ran into trouble on the lake and tucked a steel dagger into his waistband. No need to go overboard with the ebony dagger for a stroll with a friend.

He ate a bowl of the leftover stew from the evening before and cleaned up a little around the Sanctum, replacing the books on the shelves and remaking the bed. When he was finished he exited through the Cistern, once again running into Vex. She rushed him when she noticed he did not have Mjari with him.

“Cicero…” she started.

“She’s gone to Haelga’s,” Cicero said, hands up in front of him. “I did nothing.”

“I’m watching you,” she warned, but backed off.

When Cicero emerged, the weather had turned and was overcast. A misty fog had settled over the city and Cicero frowned, disappointed that it might put a damper on their adventure. He hoped the sun would emerge later on in the day.

He made his way down to the stables and visited with Mjari’s horse. He nuzzled into Cicero and Cicero rubbed her neck. He wished he had thought to bring a carrot for the beautiful gelding and resolved to bring one for him before he and Mjari left to return to her village.

Slowly the fog did lift, but the sun remained hidden by clouds. The stables had been busy when Cicero arrived, but as midday came, things slowed down. The merchants coming through for the day had settled in and it was quiet save for the whinnies of the horses and their stamping feet.

Cicero was just beginning to wonder what was taking Mjari so long when she rounded the corner with Shadr, chatting and laughing. Her laugh made Cicero weak. The pair parted ways and Shadr went into the stable house while Mjari approached Cicero.

“Ready?” Mjari asked, holding out her elbow for Cicero to link up.

He blushed and joined arms with hers as they walked toward the lake. The air was warming and Cicero felt the overwhelm of thoughts flooding into his brain once again. 

When they reached the water, Cicero unlinked arms with Mjari and faced her. “Mjari,” he said. “I want to enjoy today, but I want to understand your boundaries.”

She gave him a quizzical look. 

“I very much enjoyed last night. I felt feelings I haven’t felt in a long time. But you told me not to misconstrue our friendship and I have to admit, I’m feeling a little confused.”

Mjari sighed and looked away, a grimace on her face. 

“When we spoke yesterday, of adventuring and such,” she explained, “It gave me a lot to think about. I was happy with Frejdrik, but having met you and just feeling this connection…I’m just not sure I am as happy as I thought I was. And I don’t know, I guess I like you.” She paused. “A lot.” She shrugged with a half smile.

Cicero’s heart skipped a beat, but his reservations remained. He had briefly forgotten that he had murdered Frejdrik in cold blood and was now faced with the possibility of having to pretend as if he hadn’t for however long he and Mjari were entwined. 

“I see,” Cicero answered, just to say something. 

Mjari stepped closer to Cicero.

“All I know is that I want to spend today with you. Whatever the future holds, I’ll address it when we get there. But you and I are here now, if you’ll still have me.”

Cicero nodded. “Of course, of course.” He took Mjari’s hands in his. “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay with this.”

Mjari leaned in and placed a kiss on Cicero’s cheek. 

“I’m okay with this,” she whispered. Then she tugged his hand and began prancing down the path along the water.

Cicero followed along happily, for the moment throwing caution to the wind. 

Mjari plucked mountain flowers at they walked, absent-mindedly twisting them together in a ring. When she had enough, she placed the crown atop Cicero’s red hair and stepped back to admire her work.

“High King Cicero!” she laughed, reaching to retrieve the crown. Cicero ducked her hand and closed his eyes, nodding with the air of royalty before bursting into giggles himself.

“It’s mine now,” he told her. “I’m never taking it off.”

“Suit yourself,” Mjari giggled. “It actually looks quite nice on you.”

They continued on the quiet path, Mjari picking more flowers. 

“I used to pick them as a child, you know. My mother was an alchemist,” Mjari reminisced. “We could spend all day in the woods hunting ingredients. Mara Tapinella, Dragon’s tongue, tundra cotton. Nirnroot if we were lucky. I still remember finding my first Nirnroot. I went out in the evening because I thought it would be quiet enough to hear its chiming once all the people had gone to sleep. I was right.”

Cicero put his hand down between them and laced his fingers into hers. 

“Pretty, pretty flowers,” he commented. “I bring flowers to my mother.”

“That’s sweet,” Mjari told him, squeezing his hand.

They came upon a flat rock jutting from the soil. Cicero led Mjari to sit on it with him. They watched the dragonflies dance across the surface of the water in the fading light of the day. Cicero’s stomach audibly growled.

“Oh! I brought snacks!” Mjari responded to the gurgling. She pulled her bow off her back and unshouldered her knapsack. She pulled out a sweet roll for each of them. Cicero’s face lit up as he took the sweet roll.

“These are my favorite!” he practically shouted. Mjari laughed and smiled approvingly.

“Good, because I am pretty good at making these and nothing else,” she told him.

“You can make sweet rolls?” Cicero asked excitedly.

“Yes. But again, that’s the only thing I’ve ever cooked that tasted good. So, you know, don’t get your hopes up for me to ever make you a home-cooked meal.”

Cicero dove into his sweet roll, his eyes closing as the sweet icing hit his tongue. 

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Why on Nirn are you traveling all around Skyrim when you could be the next Gourmet?”

Mjari shrugged but before she could answer, a scream rang out from the woods behind them. 

Cicero jumped up with Mjari at his side. She had already drawn her bow and was poised to aim at whatever came forth. Cicero rubbernecked to get a better view into the trees. In the darkness he saw a woman running and a small child pursuing her. 

He suddenly realized what they were witnessing. The small child was Babette! The woman was running for her life. She must have had a contract put out on her. 

Mjari trained her bow on the woman, but lowered it in confusion as she realized the woman was fleeing the child.

“Why would a woman be afraid of a child?” she asked Cicero. 

“I–” Cicero began, but his heart was racing. He could not explain Babette to Mjari without outing himself as a member of the Dark Brotherhood, but the woman was coming straight toward them and soon Babette would be upon them and it would be quite obvious to Mjari why the woman was running from this “child”. 

“Over here!” Mjari called to the woman.

“Vampire! She’s a vampire!” the woman screamed, flattening herself behind a tree. Mjari immediately trained the bow on Babette. 

“Well that explains it,” she said, drawing the arrow back. Babette had stopped to listen for her target’s footsteps. “Stay still you vile creature,” Mjari whispered.

Cicero began to panic and did the only thing he could think to do in the moment. He put an arm around Mjari’s waist and pulled her backwards, sending her arrow flying high into the sky.

“CICERO! What are you doing!?” Mjari shouted, as she fell backwards with the little man. She quickly stood back up and attempted to draw another arrow. Cicero once again grabbed her, by the arm this time, but she shook him off. Babette had begun creeping around again and Mjari was struggling to keep her eyes on Babette with Cicero tugging on her.

“Let go, Cicero!” Mjari yelled. Babette turned to face them.

“Cicero? What are you doing out here?” Babette called in their direction.

Mjari lowered her bow and turned wide-eyed and open-mouthed to face Cicero. The look on her face told Cicero that she understood that Babette had recognized him and what that meant. With much despair, Cicero quickly grabbed his dagger and plunged it into Mjari’s belly. He felt the blade pierce her skin and he felt the pain of it in his own heart. He brought her close to him as the blood spilled down her dress, one she had undoubtedly worn just for Cicero. Mjari looked into his eyes with fear and she shakily reached for the dagger he still held inside of her. Cicero pushed her hand gently away and hugged her closer.

"Why?" she asked weakly.

“I’m sorry, my love.”

He felt his eyes welling up with tears as he restrained her from pulling the dagger out. This was not at all right, he thought miserably. He placed a kiss atop his dying sweetheart’s auburn head. Her body had tensed with the violent stabbing, but slowly the muscles relaxed and Mjari drew a final breath, letting it out with a crackling noise. Her body fell limp in Cicero’s arms.

Babette emerged from the trees, blood dripping from her mouth.

“Don’t worry,” she told Cicero, wiping her face on her sleeve. “I found her.”

Cicero met Babette's eyes.

“Oh,” she stopped. “I did not realize you were on a contract too! We should have coordinated.”

“Please go,” Cicero begged. Babette’s face scrunched in confusion but she shrugged.

“I’ll see you at the sanctuary then.” She turned to leave. 

Cicero sat with Mjari’s body for a while and wept. “A fool of hearts,” he sobbed. “That is all I’ll ever be.”

He carefully carried Mjari off the path and into the woods, laying her down among the flowers. He ran his fingers through her hair, doing his best to make it look presentable. Then he folded her hands across her chest, placing nightshade flowers in them. He placed stones around her and returned to the path. Picking up her bow, quiver and knapsack, he began to head back to Riften, to the Sanctum.

[wastelandcth]

I Hope You Think of Me

day four of #5sosweek21: ex-lovers || favorite song

summary: The picture that you paint of me looks better in your mind. 

author’s notes: Michael!!! This is the first time I’ve written for him no one attack me 

warnings: angst, mentions of smoking

masterlist || request

Michael’s phone switched off, the black screen reflecting his tired expression back onto him. His headphones, which had been playing a demo of a song that he and Luke had been working on for the past week, covered his ears and kept out the quiet chatter from the plane. His eyes burned and if he was being honest with himself, the red-eye flight wasn’t going to be granting him any sleep. His mind had been awake since early in the morning when the same phone he’d just turned off had lit up in the darkness of his room. His vision blurry and unfocused as he tried to read whatever text message you’d sent him in the early morning hours. 

“I know it’s been a while but I still miss the memories of the mornings we were high.”

It had been a couple of months since the breakup. Since Michael had walked out of that club where he'd been left hurt and broken. It had been months since you’d watched him walk out and since you’d sat back and did nothing about it. It had been a mistake; one you’d realized the second the door to your apartment closed and you were left alone, listening to the sound of your friend’s laughter on the other side. It had all happened so quickly you weren’t even sure when you realized just what had happened, not even when Michael’s tear-stained face was standing in front of you as you defended them. “You’re always taking their side,” he sighed quietly, his head shaking as his sleeve soaked up his tears, “You know all they’re trying to do is break us up, they’ve always been a bunch of fake friends to you!” “Oh because your friend group is just the best, isn’t it? They’re friends with you because they want to be and not because you’re in some giant band? Fuck off Michael, maybe my friends are right. Maybe I am better off without you.” you muttered. “You know what? Maybe I am better without you too,” he sighed, standing up and running his hands through his hair, “I hope you and your great group of friends have a great time talking shit about your new ex.” And with that he was gone, slamming the door before the sound of his car starting and driving off was the last memory of Michael that you had. You’d prided yourself on believing your friends, for taking their word that they knew what was best for you and letting Michael go. It was what was best for you, sticking with the group of friends who’d never let you down and dropping the man who you were in love with. If they didn’t like him, there must’ve been a reason you weren’t seeing, too blinded by Michael to see what they saw him. But when your so-called friend group did indeed start talking badly about Michael a few days after the breakup, you realized that Michael was right. “He was just…weird,” one of them scoffed, “He was so needy and always wanting your attention!” “Yeah, and then he would just leave for weeks on end! Like why would you even think dating him was a good idea?” another one joined in as you threw back another mimosa. “I’m glad you’re single again, we can finally have our fun girl trips away without worrying about you having to keep him updated.” Brunch had gone on, with you silently sipping away and the mixture of juice and bubbles while your friend group trash-talked the man you had been in love with. You knew that they were wrong, that Michael had made you happy, and that you had thought it was insane that he’d ever want to be with you. He was sweet and caring and all those text message conversations you’d spent the past couple of days reading back had made your heart race. But no matter how wrong they were about Michael, you couldn’t bring yourself to shut them down, because what would happen if they left you too then you really would have no one. It went on for months, the constant complaints about how horrible of a person Michael allegedly was drilled into you until eventually you snapped and cut yourself off from the people around you. It had been two months since you’d told your so-called friends off, your harsh words towards them having been pent up and finally spewed out. Two months since you’d left the girl’s night with shaky hands and tears in your eyes while you tried to think of ways to apologize to Michael. It had been a month since you’d tried to call him, your heart thumping in your chest as you listened to the monotone ringing. “Hey! This is Michael, sorry I couldn’t get your call but maybe I’ll get back to you soon!” It had been three weeks since you’d seen him driving past the coffee shop you’d recently found yourself going to more often than usual. He’d gotten a new car, the one he’d taken you to see a few days before the breakup, and he looked happy as he drove away from you until a turn made him disappear from view. You’d grabbed your coffee and gone home, memories of car rides with Michael playing in your brain as you yearned for those memories to come back. It had been two weeks since you’d sat in your living room, the plush carpet under you a comfort as the room spun and your hand trailed over to find your phone. Michael’s contact picture had popped up before you could stop yourself, your fingers typing out a message that you hopes made sense despite the smoke that had filled your lungs and the fog that covered your brain. But before you could hit send, the incoming call flashed across your screen and you hesitated before picking up. “Hello?” you asked quietly. “Hey. I...you called.” Michael’s voice rang out, his voice like honey that made you want to melt. “Hi, yeah I just…” you mumbled, really wishing you weren’t high for the first time that you got to talk with him again, “I wanted to talk to you...apologize.” “Are you...are you high?” Michael asked and the frown in his voice was evident as he sighed. “Yeah, I just…it’s been a hard couple of weeks, and I…” “Maybe we should talk when you’re not high. Just...I’ll text you, okay?” his voice laced with sadness and a hint of something your brain couldn’t quite place. “Okay, I’m sorry.” It had been two days since you’d finally gotten the courage to read the message he’d sent back after your own that night, the notification sitting heavy in your pocket until once again you found yourself on the floor of your living room. Your fingers shook as they floated over the screen, finally finding the courage to click the message and letting your eyes scan through the paragraph. You’d barely finished reading the text before you were calling Michael up again and hoping that he’d answer. “Hello?” his tired voice answered, a yawn covered up as his phone moved away from his ear. “I know I’ll never meet your expectations,” you started, “And I know that I’m an idiot for listening to them and letting them say those things about you. I was just...stupid and I thought that I’d be no one without them but I miss you. I miss you so much that sometimes all I can do is think about is those mornings when we would stay in bed until we were both too hungry to keep quiet. And I know that maybe you’ll never even forgive me but I just need you to know how sorry I am.” 

“I...I’ve had a lot of time to think about us, about what happened between us,” Michael mumbled after a pause, “And I think that maybe it’s better that we let things end, that maybe it’s better if all the memories we have together just stayed as memories.” 

“Michael,” you whispered sadly.

“I just need to stop letting me down,” he sighed, “And we both know that whatever we had, it wasn’t meant to last more than a night.”

“I-”

“I hope you still think of me high.”

And those were the words you heard a few weeks later, playing out on the radio for everyone to hear and experience just like you did.

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[lloydskywalkers]

let me just start out by saying i love ever single one of your stories!!! i’m pretty new to the show and your works just add so much more feeling to everything and it’s sooo good!!! i don’t know if you ever do requests or not, so don’t bother with this if you’re busy!! but if you ever get a chance could you write smthg abt Jay and Kai? their friendship is so underrated but so good and i live for the moments in the show when Kai’s big brother instinct(tm) kicks in for him as well as Nya and Lloyd

aH thank you so much!! i’m so glad to hear that :D and this isn’t...exactly what you asked for, but Kai and Jay have this fun of dynamic that reminds me a lot of me and my brother, and i’ve been tossing around little bits of interaction between them for a while now, so i tried to make something coherent out of those :’D

Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at the whole compartmentalizing thing, for the most part. Mainly because he actually knows what it means, and it is not, for instance, locking your team up in a literal compartment while rushing off to fight the other compartment that is your resurrected homicidal father into submission.

“That was one time,” Lloyd will grumble, as if he’s only almost-died once. And then Jay will flinch, because that’s where his compartments come into play.

(Nadakhan gets one, Unagami gets another, the whole fun-times adoption reveal another, and everything else can get stuffed into the metaphorical attic since they won’t pay rent.)

Unfortunately, the attic is where the bad stuff lives.

Metaphorically.

If Jay had a nickel for every time he almost lost all of his friends, he’d have two nickels, plus another nickel for Cole falling into the fog, and another for Lloyd getting crushed by a roof, and another for Zane blowing up, and another for Nya in that awful dress with paling skin as her breathing stutters and the light in her eyes draining and —

And Jay is way, way too familiar with how it looks when his family dies, and all the nickels in the world won’t help that.

So while Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at compartmentalizing, he also thinks he’s got a valid excuse for the way he reacts when Lloyd goes down in the fight that afternoon. Sure, some vague part of his mind remembers that they’ve got a plan they’re running, and Lloyd should easily be able to handle a tiny little stumble — but Jay’s mind is stuck in glaring oranges and health bars, the unsteady gasping noise Lloyd had made before he went down, dissolving into digitized cubes just like everyone else, and Jay—

Jay can’t handle that, compartments or not, so he clears the space between them in a heartbeat just in time to take the bullet that comes hurtling Lloyd’s way.

It’d probably be a very noble and touching scene, if one) Jay didn’t make a hideous squeaking noise when it hit because bullets hurt, and two) the bullet would have missed Lloyd by a good two feet anyways.

Ah well, he thinks, as everything devolves into panicked yelling. It’s the thought that counts.

Except thoughts do not count when Kai is involved, apparently. Or any of the rest of the team, for that matter.

“What is wrong with you?” Kai hisses right in his face, eyes wild and sparking. “I was covering Lloyd, what were you doing?”

“Filling in for you, obviously,” Jay retorts. He has an excellent followup to that, real snappy and all, except that’s the moment Kai’s hand clamps down on the bullet wound in his arm to stop the bleeding, and Jay ends up stifling a shriek instead.

Great, he thinks, fighting back stinging tears of pain as he tries not to take Kai’s apparent wrath too personally. At least Cole looks worried, along the the rest of the team, who are dutifully concerned for his wellbeing like proper teammates should be.

“He’s going to need the hospital,” Zane informs them, his voice a lot steadier and calmer than his words make Jay feel. Zane’s eyebrows furrow as he studies his arm. “Stitches, probably.”

Jay swallows, trying not to curse. There’s a sharp scream as Nya finishes taking out another attacker just beyond them, and Jay figures that’s good enough.

“Okay,” Lloyd says, squeezing Jay’s wrist briefly. Either in comfort about the stitches or thanks for trying to cover him, Jay’s not sure. It’s a nice gesture, nonetheless. “Kai, Cole, can you get him there while we finish up? Sooner the better.”

Cole gives a sharp nod, and offers to take Jay from where Kai’s got him in a death grip. Kai shakes his head, and Jay’s stomach sinks. Sure enough, as soon as they’re clear of the scene, Kai starts going off.

“What did you mean, ‘filling in for me’,” he grinds through his teeth, clearly not about to let this go.

Jay bristles in response at his tone. “I meant,” he bites out, through a hot flare of pain in his arm. Kai’s always merciless with the bandages, even when he’s not in a mood. “That you weren’t there. So I covered.”

He should leave it at that, but Jay’s in a foul enough mood to finish with a condescending, “You’re welcome.”

Kai’s expression grows thunderous. “You didn’t need to. I was right there, you shouldn’t have — you weren’t needed, you should’ve held back.”

Jay feels his chest go tight. His head is clouding with anger, and the pain in his arm isn’t helping, but — ‘you weren’t needed’? Kai really didn’t skimp on the jerk juice this morning, did he.

“Oh, like you could’ve done so much better,” Jay glares. “Lloyd would’ve been toast by the time you got to him.”

“I could’ve made it!”

“Yeah right—”

“I would have, and I wouldn’t have gotten hit!” Kai snarls back. Something in Jay snaps. Or maybe it’s just the steadily increasing blood loss, but of all the nerve—

“Well you didn’t, ‘cause you weren’t there!” he snaps back. “You were too slow, which is real funny since your brain is too!”

It’s not his best comeback, he’ll admit, but Kai looks as if he’s about to light him on fire, if he weren’t stuck carrying Jay like the cover of some awful romance novel, blood getting all over his uniform as they both scream at each other. Maybe Jay will get lucky, and Kai will combust, and they’ll both go up in flames before they can remember that Cole is right there watching them.

“Cut it out, now!”

Oops, too late. For all the incensed authority in Cole’s voice, there’s still a traitorous falter that lets them both know they’ve screwed up. They fall silent, the atmosphere heavy with the lingering tension and new sense of guilt.

And the disgusting sound of Jay’s blood leaking through the makeshift bandage and hitting the ground, truly revolting, he hates blood.

“Just…no more. Please, shut up until we’re at the hospital.” Cole marches forward, snatches Jay from Kai’s arms, and proceeds to beat the fastest route to the hospital at a militant pace.

Jay still looks like some helpless romance cover heroine, dangling from Cole’s arms like he is. It occurs to him that he doesn’t even need to be carried — it’s his arm that’s hurt, he can still walk—

But any protests die rapidly at the look on Cole’s face. And at least this way, Jay thinks sullenly, he can fixedly ignore Kai.

Then again, Kai’s got a killer glare, and Jay’s always been garbage at ignoring people when his feelings are hurt.

* * * * * * * *

Despite the fuss everyone makes, Jay’s arm really isn’t that bad. They hook him up with some pretty sweet meds so he remembers zero of the actual arm-fixing, and he wakes up just in time to complain about being held in the hospital for ‘observation’ or whatever.

“It’s to make sure there’s no infection, or that you don’t rip your stitches out,” Nya tells him pointedly. Jay cringes under the look she gives him at that last part. Geez. You get kicked in the stitches one time after sneaking out early and suddenly no one’s got any faith in you. Typical.

“Why couldn’t we have just gone to medbay,” Jay grumbles. “Pixal gives way better stitches than this, anyways.”

“Gun wounds get hospitals,” Nya reminds him. “And it’s not fair to put that kind of pressure on Pix when we can avoid it.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Nya glares at him. “It most certainly was that bad.”

“Oh, so when you get your arm crushed by a car, it’s fine,” Jay glares back. “But when I get a tiny little bullet nick, it’s that bad.”

Nya rolls her eyes, ignoring him. “Just think of it this way,” she says. “Now you have a little more time before Lloyd starts weeping apologies all over you.”

“Aw, no,” Jay groans, leaning back in the hospital bed. “Tell me he’s not blaming himself, Nya.”

“I think we had a promise about not lying to each other, or something,” Nya says, sympathetically. She winces. “Pretty sure he made the connection, too.”

Jay frowns. “What connection?”

Nya shifts, her eyes darting from side to side. “The, uh, the whole…Prime Empire, thing.”

Jay stares at her for a beat, trying to reconcile his blatant shock with the roiling nausea at the mention in his stomach. Nya looking at him all kind and sympathetically isn’t helping, either, because she might have made it down to the final two, but she was never all alone, and the reminder that she’d have been fine if Jay hadn’t gotten her killed twice is—

Bad. Real bad, not good, zero out of ten stars. Maybe he can take a bullet for Nya, next, and that’ll — that’ll help things, maybe. Equivalent exchange? Restitution? Some kind of fancy word that means Jay swears he’s gonna make it up.

In the meantime, he smothers the rising sickness in his throat and sinks lower into the bed, sulking. “It’s too easy to recognize trauma in this team.”

“I hear you,” Nya sighs, wearily. She nudges his shoulder, rising from her seat near the bed. “Speaking of. Someone’s got something they want to say to you.”

It takes Jay a second, but his eyes widen as Nya heads for the door. “Wait, wait wait wait, don’t you dare—”

“Love you,” Nya says cheekily, before taking her merry leave of the room. There’s a brief scuffle from outside, and the sound of Kai yelping, before Nya shoves him through the door, slamming it shut behind him with a damning click.

For a second, Jay’s tempted to hit the ‘call nurse’ button as hard as he can, in some desperate attempt to escape. Then he gets a good look at Kai, who’s turned a pale, queasy color that frankly looks awful on him, which is saying a lot ‘cause there isn’t much that doesn’t look good on Kai, but the expression he has on now—

Aw, man, now Jay’s feeling guilty and it isn’t even his fault. Stupid moral conscience center, he curses himself.

“So, uh…” he begins, because far be it from him to let this kind of awkward silence stretch on any longer. “Nice, ah, weather we’re having?”

Kai doesn’t respond, staring fixedly at the floor, and Jay sizes up the ‘call nurse’ button again. Just for the both of their sakes, of course.

But then Kai takes a deep breath, blows it out, and rocks back on his heels, fiddling with his hands. “I, um. I’m sorry.”

Jay’s jaw drops open. Which is probably an overdramatic move, all things considered, but unless he’s suddenly lost the ability to understand words, Kai just apologized to him.

Kai apologized. To him.

It’s not that Kai apologizing is some great big deal — Kai might have his pride, but he’s also an intuitive and good-hearted person who knows when he’s messed up. But to him?

Jay knows how he and Kai work. Kai knows how he and Jay work, and he’s breaking the rules. Because Kai and Jay don’t apologize to each other. Unless it’s some awkward expression of sympathy, they’ve never needed to. They fight dirty, aim for each other’s kneecaps, swear eternal vengeance and hatred at each other before storming off, then an hour later Jay’s bounding into Kai’s room to show him dumb meme videos and neither of them even remember what they were fighting about.

Acknowledging said fight with something as gushy as apologizing is not only useless since they both forget what they’re apologizing for anyways, but also useless because it’ll take too much time, and counterproductive on top, because it’ll most likely end in another fight about who apologized better. So for Kai to walk in and say sorry—

“Oh no, who did you kill?” Jay says, paling.

Kai spears him with a look, but it’s so pathetically watered-down and miserable that Jay forgets to glare back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jay mutters. “I just—”

“No, no, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Kai interrupts. He hesitates, then sighs. “But that’s fair. I — I was unfair. To you, back there. Like, really unfair, in a bad way, ‘cause you were shot and I know you meant well, but you—”

Kai gestures wildly with his hands, his stream of words cutting off. Jay is left to stare open-mouthed at him again. Babbling like this is Jay’s thing. Kai is breaking all the rules today, huh.

“I just…” Kai trails off, ducking his head. “I don’t like watching you guys get hurt. I don’t — I don’t like watching you get hurt. And I get scared, but it comes out angry, and then I make a mess of things so I’m — sorry. Really sorry, for biting your head off.”

He exhales, a little shaky, fingers balled up in tight fists as his head hangs low, refusing to meet Jay’s eyes. Something softens in Jay’s chest, like gooey melting butter or something else equally pathetic. But it’s rare that Kai vocalizes this stuff, despite the fact that Jay knows he cares, and it’s nice to hear it, so he figures he’s entitled to all the butter he wants.

Jay’s own gaze falters, and the something starts to twist. He bites his lip, tugging half-heartedly at the bandages around his arm.

“Well,” he pauses, thinking of the way his brain had shifted to autopilot when he’d watched Lloyd falter, the razor-sharp shard of terror that always splinters through him when any of their teammates come too close to the awful images of death left in his head. He swallows. “I guess I don’t really have any room to talk,” he murmurs. “Be pretty dumb if I blamed you for that.”

He’s preparing to sink back into his own well of self-pity and loathing, resigned to spending the next few hours until they check him out of the hospital replaying bad memories in his head, when Kai’s next to him all of the sudden, shoving him over on the hospital bed.

“Hey, hey, what’s the big idea—”

“Move, c’mon. You don’t need that much room, you’re a stick,” Kai grumbles, before grinning brightly in success as Jay makes him space. The contrast in expression is enough to startle Jay into silence, and Kai takes advantage. “I know that look. But you already got shot, so you gotta cheer up now.”

“So you’re forcing me into cheerfulness by stealing my hospital bed,” Jay scowls, but the sting is lost in the sudden surge of affection as Kai elbows his way on the bed with him, a steady warmth by his side.

“I’m gifting you my presence, you should be celebrating,” Kai huffs, as he pulls his phone out. “Now stop looking so sad and watch this video I got of a bunch’a geese chasing Zane at the park the other day.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Jay says, but he’s already snickering as he leans his head against Kai’s shoulder to get a better look.

He’s forgotten to tell Kai he forgives him, but like most things between them — Jay doesn’t really need to say it out loud.

[cinnamontoasttaes]

Till Death Do Us Part - myg

pairing: Yoongi x reader

genre: Assassin Au, eventual smut.

word count: 5.972k

warnings: blood, gore, lots of cursing, action, violence, sexual content.

summary: Assassins are not supposed to fall in love.

author’s note: I don’t know what the fuck I just wrote but I hope you enjoy this. Let me know if it’s good enough for a second part. Have a lovely day my beautiful peeps.

                                                  ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Making a run for it, you jump off of the edge of the high-rise building. The chilly wind slapping you harshly in the face as you brace yourself for landing. Knees tucked in, arms spread out as the balls of your feet come in contact with the flat surface. 

It has been a week since you last saw him, a whole fucking week. Yet, you keep coming back here, but not intending to do what you should have done a long time ago. Instead, you were here searching for a Yoongi that didn't exist, one that would comfort you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said. 

                                   ——Flashback to that night——

“I Love you--”

Your eyes widen and a gasp escapes your lips, afraid of the words that had just come out of them. Searching his eyes, you pray he didn’t hear it. But eyes that were once clouded with euphoria were now overtaken with shock and disgust. 

You panic and push him off of your sweaty and naked body. Wincing at the sudden loss of his cock as cum oozes out of your pussy and trickles down your thighs. Not wanting to believe you just said that, you look up at the seahorse fairy lights on the ceiling wishing that they would come alive and carry you out to a galaxy far away.  

“What did you just say?” he asks, his voice raspy and low. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, so loud that you could hear the thumping rhythm in your ears going...LUB... DUB... LUB... DUB... LUB... DUB. 

“What did you just say?” he repeats, and your blood drains from your face as you stare at nothing but the dim light coming through the sheets. Biting onto your bottom lip, you realize that there was no escaping this, that you would eventually have to tell him. And just as you say the words in your head, he pulls the covers off of your face in one quick motion. Your eyes widen, quickly locking onto the seahorses again, not daring to look at him.

“W-what,” you stutter as tight knots take over your stomach.

“Look at me y/n,” he growls...but you didn’t want to... you didn’t want to face him just yet, afraid of being rejected by the one guy you said those words to.

“It just slipped out, I didn't mean it...just forget I ever said that,” you say, trying your best to keep your cool but hearing as your voice cracks at the end.   

                                            ---------------------------

But if only you knew what was going through his head at that moment, that he didn't just want to forget about it. That all he wanted was to hear you say those words over and over again. Just like that, with you underneath him, your beautiful brown eyes glazed over and your soft lips curled up into a smile, pulling him closer as he filled you up with his cum. 

Wanting to use this as an opportunity to tell you that you were everything he had ever wanted, to tell you he felt the same way. That all he desired was to hold your hand, to wake you up with kisses every morning, to hold you when your nightmares struck, and dry your tears when you cried. That he wanted to do all those things and more because ever since you stepped foot inside the agency. Your small body soaked with blood from head to toe, a big smile on your face as if you hadn't just finished killing someone with those small bare hands of yours. Since that day he hasn't been the same and he hated you for it. Hated you for making him feel such strange feelings he thought he would never feel. 

It was frustrating to think that you could be the one to warm up his icy heart. How? When not even his mother or his brothers, the people who cared for him the most made him feel the way you did. He wanted to tell you the truth, to tell you that all his life he has tried his best to ignore his feelings for you, convincing himself that he could never like an annoying girl like you. 

To apologize for always breaking your toys and making you cry as if it was his full-time job. To tell you he didn't hate you, but the boys who played with you, held your hand and made you things during art class. To tell you he never understood why your face lit up every time they gave you something, that even if it was ugly or falling apart, you cherished it deeply. 

You seemed so strange to him, like an alien from a different world, that knew something he didn’t. How could a person be so kind yet so evil at the same time? He would ask himself, always trying to figure you out. While secretly wanting to see your face light up like that for him. To tell you that that was the reason he stayed up all night the day before your 12th birthday, making you a clay ring that looked like a frog because you were always jumping around. And just as he pushed the ring into your hands the next day... it happened. Your big brown eyes widened like a beaming sun on a summer day. Burning through his corneas, but he couldn’t look away as it was the prettiest sight he has ever seen. Then you smiled at him, a smile that made him feel things he couldn’t quite explain. 

That what he meant to tell you when he threatened to kill you if you told anyone about the ring was that he hoped you liked it. To tell you how he almost struck a bow into Jackson's head that same day when he caught him kissing you under the same place where he had given you the ring. Upset that you didn't even push him away, upset that he wasn't old Yoongi who would have felt indifferent and done nothing just because he didn’t have feelings. But he wasn't that Yoongi anymore, but one who suddenly felt hurt and betrayed just at the thought of you being someone else’s. 

He wanted to be your first kiss... just like you were his first everything. 

But even though he felt this way for you and wanted to tell you all these things. The walls he has built from years of conditioning, brainwashing, toxic relationships, near-death experiences, depression, and other issues he swears his brain blocks out to protect him. Keep pushing you away, not allowing you to get too close. 

Even though he’s always his best when he’s with you. He hopes you can find a better man one day, one who knows how to love you and treat you the right way.

 Now there was only one way of ending this and that was to hurt you, like always.

                                -------------------------------------

“We both agreed that this was just a sex thing, nothing more. We are assassins for god's sake, we know nothing about love,”

A chill runs down your spine and you knew you should have stayed quiet, but your traitor of a heart betrays you once again, “You're wrong...because if that was true I wouldn’t be feeling this way for you….tell me you feel nothing for me!” you cry out, your face turning hot. 

“Y/N what the fuck are you talking about, you were just a way for me to pass time. Shit of all the women I’ve fucked I would have never thought that... you, someone who is as lifeless and cold-hearted as I would be the one to say those words to me-” He pauses but continues, “I hope you're not getting confused with the other stuff we have been doing in here because if you are I should’ve just stayed with Juna or-” 

Before he could even finish his sentence, you strike him on the side of the face, so hard his head turns. Your hand tingles as it falls back onto your lap. You don’t realize, but you’re sitting up now, the sheets that were once hiding your upper body now pooled around your thighs. Your chest heaving up and down as you feel your eyes water. Angry at yourself for catching feelings for him, angry that you allowed yourself to be blinded by the moments you’ve both shared, mistaking it for fucking love. 

“You're a real piece of shit you know that right, how dare you bring her up right after I-... after I-...you know what Yoongi just leave, go fuck her for all I care,” You shout, biting onto your quivering bottom lip as you look at him. 

His hand is covering his right cheek where you had slapped him, but you could see the red hand mark from the gaps between his fingers. His furrowed brows accentuate the pale ridged scar that runs down from the top of his left brow and stops right in the middle of his cheek. His cold eyes glaring at you intently as the corners of his mouth turn into a smirk.

“Don’t worry, that’s where I’ll be tonight because you can’t honestly think, that you have been the only one I’ve been fucking all this time,” he says, venom dripping from his voice and you feel like throwing up. 

Putting your trembling hands into fists, ready to lunge at him, you stop yourself, a low chuckle escaping your shaky lips. He wasn’t fucking worth it, you should have known better, you should have stopped yourself before it got this far. “I'll burn this place down tomorrow,” You push the words out, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat.

You remove the frog-inspired clay ring from your ring finger, the one he had made for you when you had just turned 12. And place it on the bed beside him, your finger suddenly feeling naked without it. Not giving him a second glance you get off the bed, the cold air hitting your naked body traitorously. You pick up your clothes that were scattered around the floor, get dressed, and before you know it you are out the door. The cold air greeting you like a fake friend as you push your way through the thick fog. 

You make your way down the building and once in the comfort of your car;  you rest your head against the steering wheel and let your tears fall.

  -—-Flashback Ends----

                                                                                                                                       With a sigh, you pull out the lighter from your pocket, twirling it around your fingers as you stare up at the house. 

Remembering when you both found it, on top of an abandoned skyscraper in Busan. The day you were both forced by the chairwomen of the academy to go on a mission together, as a punishment for almost killing each other again in Poison lab 101. Threatening us that if the mission wasn’t a success that she would send us both to the basement and no matter how cold of a killer you were, no one wanted to go down there. It surprised you that locking the both of you in the basement wasn’t their first option. 

In all honesty, they should just lock Yoongi in the basement because he’s always the one to start fucking problems with you. Ever since you came to the agency at 7 years old, he’s always been such a dick to you, for no fucking reason. But as the years went by and you guess that as the dick grew bigger, he turned into an even bigger dick than before. There isn’t a day that goes by when we are not trying to kill each other. 

Like how last week Namjoon, the boss in charge of the baddies (aka the 3rd years) made the both of you clean the first year's locker room…. was that a good idea? No. Because we came out of there drenched from head to toe after fucking Yoongi tried to drown you in the hot tub, so you tried to drown him first, and of course, we got punished. You fucking hated everything about him, hated how he always got first in exams/training and you always made second. Hated how he always ruined your uniform, hated that smug fucking look on his face. And fuck, you hated how his exes or little crushes were always on your ass, telling you to stay away from their man and shit. Like bitch, you can fucking have him.

The mission was fairly quick and easy, and you knew Namjoon had to have chosen it. Knowing us that if we had to work together for more than an hour, we would kill each other for sure. To stop that from happening, we separated our mission into separate tasks, Yoongi was to take out the bodyguards who were on the lookout for anything suspicious, surrounding the abandoned book shop like statues. Not knowing that there was a shadow creeping up behind them like a thief in the night. Your job was to kill their boss called Mo, a big old wrinkly guy who ran an illegal organ trafficking business, and who was processing a transaction from two corrupted cops, on top of the shop's semi-slanted rooftop. The shop was just a few buildings down and the abandoned house you were in aided as the perfect hideout. In less than two minutes you had sniped them one by one with your pink bedazzled sniper, watching them fall to the ground like flies with blown-up heads. 

Then the unexpected happened. Before you could set your gun down, you sensed a presence behind you, and just as you turned around you were pushed against the wall by no other than Yoongi. He had splotches of blood on his face, almost making him look like the wings of a ladybug. His eyes clouded with lust and something else you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. You froze, your heart beating fast, as you stared at him confused. And before you could push him away, he kisses you, and you could have sworn you heard fireworks going off behind you. Your eyes close at the softness of his lips, which pull you deeper than any tidal wave. The stench of blood tickling your nose as he wrapped his arms around you. Holding you tight as if you’ll suddenly vanish. You couldn’t explain what you were feeling, but it almost felt as if you were soaring through a sky full of stars. Just as you breathe him in, he pulls away, his face flushed as he touches his lips in shock. Taken aback by his actions, you hear him mutter an apology. But before he could walk away, you pull him back into you. That same afternoon he took your virginity away on that dusty floor, in that abandoned house on top of a skyscraper.

And now you wish you hadn't let him take that one thing away from you----

Cocking your head to the side, you stare at the house, suddenly in awe at its unique beauty. It was a small house, the kind of house you would see in the countryside or by the beach. With vibrant wisteria that cascaded over the flat rooftop and arched window. A few green vines growing out of the bricks here and there. The house we had turned into our escape house, the place where we would go that wasn't our own homes or the agency. The place where all we did was take our pain and anger out on each other by fucking. 

Until it got rather strange and we sort of started to do things as if we were friends. It wasn't the same friendship/relationship like the one you had with Haemi and Mina, but it was okay. We did things, like read together, argue about why blank manga was better than the anime, indulge in ramen, chips, and candy at 3 am without having anyone tell us not to, play Overwatch, shit our pants while playing Amnesia, and binge-watch anime and Disney movies whenever we had the time. 

All our years of hatred for nothing.

With a sigh, you walk to the wooden door and push it open just to take one last look inside before it all turns to dust. The horrible paintings you both had painted still hanging on the wall above the bed. The makeshift bookshelf in the corner of the room was now empty after you came and rescued all the graphic novels and books, not having the heart to burn them. You glance at the two broken bean bag chairs by the window, the ones he had refused to throw away after we popped them during drunk sex. Pushing those memories to the far back of your mind, your eyes land on the black iron bed we got from IKEA, which had to be the best thing in there. It was the place where you always found him sprawled out, snoring with spit and all as he waited for you to get back from your mission. And of course, the bed where you had mind-blowing orgasms. 

Your thumb rolls against the spark wheel of the lighter in one swift motion, pushing down onto the ignition button until a vibrant flame appears. You rest your thumb firmly on the button to keep the flame alive as you rummage through your coat pocket and pull out a white piece of paper. Still not daring to step foot inside, you lean against the door frame and light up a corner of the crumbled paper. Watching as the flames race toward one another, hurrying to consume every inch of the paper. But before that could happen, you fling both the lighter and the paper somewhere inside the room and close the door. 

Moving a few feet back, you grab onto the fire extinguisher you had stolen from the agency last night and wait. A few minutes pass and still nothing...no smoke, no house engulfed in flames. But when you close your eyes you see it, the fiery inferno. The beautiful petals of the wisteria falling to the ground and turning into nothing. You could hear things falling, shattering, and popping from inside, the fire becoming bigger. Dark gray smoke escapes through the crumbling door and shattered window. Embracing you in a death grip, poisoning you slowly until all you see is black. 

“No,” you scream and open your eyes to see the house was still intact, no fire ablaze. Positioning the fire extinguisher on your arm, your feet moving on their own as you push open the door. Your eyes widening when you see that one bean bag was on fire and traveling up the side of the arched window, smoke slowly filling the room. Pulling out the safety pin, you take a hold of the black hose and squeeze down on the lever, aiming at both the bean bag and window. Watching the angry flames die down until there's nothing left, but a disfigured piece of burnt-up nylon and a half black window frame. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and set the fire extinguisher down.

You just couldn’t do it.

Your phone vibrates in your back pocket, and you pull it out, almost dropping it when you see the time--- 8:43 AM. Along with 10 unread messages from both Mina and Haemi, 3 missed calls from your brother, and a notification from Uber Eats saying you had 8 dollars off your next order. 

“Ooh nice I can get a pizza or some---fuck this is not the time for that.. I’m late,” You freak out already seeing Namjoon, Kai, Sora, and Haemi’s dark ominous faces as they cut your eyeball into 8 equal pieces and eat it with some dipping sauce. Fuck, the more you think about it, the more you realize that that is something they would do. You grimace at the taught, wondering why you choose to traumatize yourself like that.

“You're not normal,” the little voice in your head finally shows up to clarify that you're indeed not sane.

 Closing the door behind you, your combat boots are heavy on your feet as you run across the rooftop. Making it to the edge, you look up at the sky seeing that it has now cleared up and turned into a soft blue. A bright yellow sun peeking out from behind a sea of fluffy white clouds. 

Swinging your right leg off the roof, you jump. Watching a distorted image of yourself in the dusty windows of the skyscraper as you free fall. Your hair is flying all over the place, slapping you in the face and getting into your mouth. Until it stays put in a Goku-like hairstyle when he turns into a Super Saiyan. A chuckle escapes your lips at that and you close your eyes, enjoying how the cool breeze feels like gentle kisses against your skin. And just as if it was a natural-born instinct, you swipe your finger against the rim of your heart-shaped Daith, activating your magnetic levitation shoes. Opening your eyes, you grin when you see you were just a few millimeters from the concrete ground. Silently thanking Haemi for being such a genius and making you these for your Bday. Landing successfully, you tap your finger against the rim of your Daith two times to turn it off. 

Wasting no time, you run across the desolate street to where you had parked Kai’s black motorcycle, putting on your helmet you hover over it, zooming out of this ghost town and into emerging traffic hoping to make it to the agency before 9:00 AM.

——

 9:05 AM

You slip through the doors of the main conference room that was always empty except for important days like this one. The room crowded to the point you couldn’t even see the long oval mahogany table in the middle. Chiming your way through you try your best not to bump into your colleagues, knowing how grumpy they usually were in the morning. Your eyes frantically searching for Haemi and Mina, but everyone was wearing the same fucking thing: a black hoodie and black jeans. As if we all had agreed to wear the same outfit today, the night before. A smile creeps onto your lips right as you catch sight of them standing near the front next to Boss. But before you could go any further, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you away.

“Why are you late? The meeting ends in like 5 minutes?... Didn’t I wake you up this morning and tell you to get here before me, Mina even told me she saw you leave around 6... what the fuck took you so long!” Kai scolded you quietly as he bombarded you with questions.

Damn, you spent 4 hours contemplating on burning that fucking house and in the end did nothing.

Kai pulled you to the far back of the room, stopping next to a small table filled with sweet pastries and four boxes of hot coffee. Made of course by the sweetest/deadliest grandmas in the world, aside from the chairwomen. They shouldn't even be in charge of the academy's bakery due to their obsession with poisoning people. 

But no one has died yet...so people like you who enjoy balancing their lives on a thin line instead of making their own coffee and sweets or going into the city to a normal bakery with normal owners who aren't psychopaths. Like some of your semi-sane classmates would do...still nothing could ever beat their rice pancakes topped with edible flowers and honey. In all seriousness, you would die for those. Your mouth waters just at the thought, your stomach begging you to give it something to eat. Reaching over the table, you grab a foam cup just for it to be slapped out of your hands within seconds.

You gasp and turn to your brother ready to kill him watching as he picks up the cup from the ground. Crushing it in his hands as quietly as he could, the squeaky sound making your eye twitch. He signals for you to stand by him and you roll your eyes as you walk two steps and lean on the wall beside him. 

“You know you can’t drink fucking coffee on the days we have missions...especially not today, do you want to be shitting yourself all day?” He questions, his bushy brows furrowed as he crosses his arms across his chest. You stay quiet, not knowing what to say. Of course, you didn't want to shit your pants, but why did he have to do your cup like that, you weren't even going to use it for coffee. You were just going to fill it up with rice pancakes because there weren't any plates or napkins.

  Kai suddenly sniffs your hoodie and you raise an eyebrow, looking at him weirdly. “Why do you smell like smoke?” 

You were about to fidget with your ring but then you realize it wasn't there, “I almost burned a house down,” you tell him blankly. 

He does a double-take, making sure he heard right, “Wait what...you did what, why?”

You shrug him off and before he could keep nagging you; he gets interrupted by Namjoon’s booming voice. Kai looks at you with the look of we’re going to finish this conversation at a later time.

“Ok, I'll see you all at the venue, be on time!” Namjoon shouts and everyone disperses, some leaving while the risk-takers stop by the table to grab a cup of coffee and sweets. 

Some of your friends came up to you and congratulated you and before you could ask them for what they would just leave. And then there was the fucking Juna’s of the class who stared at you with utter hatred, something that wasn’t new to you. But you flipped them off anyway, not understanding the fucking memo. 

“Kai, what are people congratulating me for, what did I do?” You ask as you turn to him, he shrugs and stays quiet, ignoring you. 

You catch sight of Haemi running towards you at full speed and you spread your arms apart, hitting Kai in the face as you do so. You hear him groan as Haemi melts into them. She wraps her arms around your waist and squeezes you tightly. Satisfied at the sound of your bones crushing, she loosens her grip. Her arms now on your shoulder blades as she looks at you quizzically, a frown making its way onto her lips.   

“Why were you late and why didn't you answer our messages... NamNam is fucking angry at you,” She says through clenched teeth as she turns to look at something in the distance, biting onto her lips her face flushes into a bright pink color. You didn't even have to follow her gaze to know that she was staring at Namjoon and fantasizing about her fake dirty relationship with him. You nudge at her arm and she turns to you, now with a mischievous grin.

“y/n my panties are all soaked because of him... oh did I tell you my dildo came in this morning and I named it after him...dude, I fucking squirted all over--” Kai clears his throat making it known that he was right next to us.

“Ay! go away if you don't want to listen, this is some very important info I’m catching y/n on,” Haemi says as she shoos him away with her hand, but he stays put against the wall.

You raise a brow at her, certainly not wanting to hear about how she squirted on her Namjoon dildo. All you wanted to know was why Namjoon was angry at you---

Ah shit, and then it dawns on you... that you missed the 6 am meeting.

“Omg y/n I’m going to kill you for not answering, oh and congrats--” Mina appears with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. Kai puts his arm over her shoulders and whispers something in her ear. She looks at you for a split second and then nods. 

Before you could ask her why she was congratulating you, Namjoon’s voice rips through the air again. “Y/n and Yoongi, can you both come here now,” 

Your breath hitched in your throat as this could only mean one of two things. We were in trouble—which couldn't be right because we haven't seen or talked to each other for 4 weeks. Then it could only mean—- that he was going to assign us to work together in today’s mission.

“Well, I guess we'll see you at the venue,” Kai says. Haemi squeezes your shoulder and with a wink she lets you go. You watch them walk away, wanting to tell them not to leave you. 

With a sigh, you turn on your heel and walk towards Namjoon who is now sitting at the end of the oval table. His head is down, his fingers drumming loudly on top of his black manila folder. The room was empty now, as the voices from outside became less and less. 

Your eyes search the dim-lit room for Yoongi, but you don't see him and you feel a little better. Namjoon clears his throat and your eyes land back on him. Without looking at you, he signals you to stand by him. You do as he says, seeing a hooded Yoongi appear from the shadows and stand next to you. 

“Awe fuck,” you groan in your head.

“Why were the both of you late today when I clearly said to be here at 6 am before the meeting started,” He says, his voice strict and eerily low. 

You say nothing and neither does Yoongi. Namjoon stops drumming his fingers and leans back against the chair, resting his arm on either side. He moves robotically in slow technical movements until his face is facing forward, his eyes locking onto yours. With a gaze of a snake, waiting for you to say the wrong thing to snap. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out, unsure of what to say when it was your fault for forgetting about the meeting. 

“I was busy,” Yoongi announces in a rather bored tone.

Namjoon taps his finger again, now against the armchair, the taps sounding softer than the rigid ones on the table. 

“Hmm, what were you busy with… little brother? was it with the girl Jimin told me you had over...Keep messing around and I’ll tell father to teach you a lesson.” Namjoon snapped.

You feel a stinging pain in your heart, but you try your best to ignore it. Yoongi says nothing but shrugs.

“What’s your excuse,” He asks you now.

“I burned a house down,” You lied wanting to get a reaction out of him but got nothing. He just stood there, his face hidden by his black hoodie, unbothered. 

“Why?... instead of getting your ass here on time, you decide to do that. You know what if the both of you pull this shit again, to the basement it is,” 

A chill runs down your spine and you focus on the piece of paper that was stuck under the wheels of his chair.

“You both are getting married...with each other,” he exclaims. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards, almost as if he was about to smile, but he doesn't.

You choke on your spit and cough loudly, staring at Namjoon as if he has lost his mind. Ah, this was what they were congratulating you for, for this shit.

“You have to be fucking kidding,” Yoongi shouts, and you could hear the anger in his voice. 

“What? This is perfect... I've seen that you guys have stopped fighting for a while now, so this will be easy peasy,” 

You shake your head no, that he's got it all wrong.

“Anyway, remember the bride and the groom I made each of you study for these past few weeks...You guys are going to be them.”

“What! but isn't there already a groom and a bride?” you ask, thinking back to your notes, pretty sure that there was a bride and a groom already.

“Ah, about that… If you both would have come on time, we would have more time to discuss...But long story short, we killed them off because it was just going to complicate stuff. Plus, you both kinda look like them and with the power of makeup those old fucks won’t even know the difference,” 

Your mouth drops, taken back by the subtlety in his voice. Why the fuck would they kill them when the plan was to kill them at the wedding. The sound of a clap brings you out of your thoughts.

 Namjoon is now standing, Manila folder in hand as he looks inside it, humming an upbeat tune.

“I don’t want to fucking marry this asshole!” 

“I don’t want to fucking marry you either!” he fires back.

“Silence, it’s fucking fake you both are acting as if this was real... it’s not. By afternoon tomorrow, everything will be back to normal.” 

You look at the sparkly marble floor, pressing your lips into a tight line.

“Before you both leave to get dressed, I want to say a few things… you both know how each of them acted towards each other, I even made you both a list of the things I need to see happen at the wedding which will be in your rooms. You both can study your vows while they do your makeup or in the car… Yoongi as the boy you studied remember that he is possessive, he is crazy about his woman and all that toxic bullshit which I’m sure you’re good at….Oh and one last thing, the bride’s father is a creep and is going to come and check the morning of after you guys fake sex or you can-“

“No,” you both shout in unison, and Namjoon looks at you guys weirdly. 

“Chill I was just going to say to drip a bit of fake blood on the bed that will be in the room already. So that when he comes in with his wife to see you know what to do… well, take care of the rest,”

“Don’t disappoint...have fun, enjoy the 1-day honeymoon, and sorry I didn’t tell you both sooner.  I just didn’t want the both of you to kill each other before the wedding...now get the fuck out,” he said with a crooked smile, falling back onto the chair as he pointed at the door.

[diabolik-writer]

Umbridges Punishments (George Weasley x Ftm!Reader)

Harry Potter

Slytherin reader!

(It's only hinted at though)

Warnings : Umbridge misgenders you and slight panic attack

A/n: I originally wrote this for an Oc story I am currently writting. I figured it'd be cute as a one shot too. I changed quite a few things, such as the ending and the name to Y/n obviously. I don't know if I'll post the Oc story on here when I get enough of it done, but we'll see. If you like this and wish to read the original writing/story line for this, let me know.

Extra info: Y/n = your name, N/n = nickname, L/n = last name

Pain spread throughout my hand as the quill slid across the paper. I paused, waiting for it to fade, but it didn't. The pain continued to pulse as I wrote; Umbridge hovering behind me, watching as my hand turned red.

This was the fifth time I have been dragged into her office. It seemed like the smallest things got me in trouble. This time, I was just standing close to the Weasley twins when they pulled a prank on a Slytherin. Umbridge grabbed my arm quickly, ignoring the twins, yanking me into her office, where she had me sit down and she forced me to write with her quill. "You know what to write. This time you will write ten sentences." she announced, her hands joined behind her back as she smiled down at me. I whimpered, imagining what I was about to go through. My arm still hurt from the six she made me write last time.

'I am a troubled and useless mudblood' carved into my right hand as I wrote, making me squeeze my eyes in agony. The words continued to appear, causing a hiss of pain to escape my lips. I got to eight before I physically couldn't take it anymore. My hand was shaking and tears fogged my eyesight. I lowered my head, trying to cover my face with what hair I had. Umbridge scoffed and shook her head. "Two more, dear. Wouldn't want that number to double, would we?" I shook my head quickly, making the quill move again and making more words litter my hands.

When I had finished the last two, Umbridge grabbed the paper and quill from me. "Do you get the message, dear?" she asked, amusement laced in her voice. I knew that if I tried to speak, it would've come out weak and broken, so I just nodded. Umbridge seemed satisfied with my answer as she smiled and replied, "Good. You may now go, Ms.L/N."

My heart sank and my stomach flipped. Out of my seven years at Hogwarts, no one has called me "Ms''. They had always called me "Mr'' out of respect for my identity. I had always been accepted for who I was and I was never misgendered at Hogwarts by a professor. I didn't argue or correct her, though. I just stalked out of the room, wanting to get to my dorm room as fast as I could.

I kept my eyes on my shoes, watching for feet around me and avoiding as many people as possible. I could feel tears in the back of my eyes, making my face feel hot. I didn't want to be seen on the verge of sobbing, face red and puffy. I wanted to get to my room so I could cry in peace.

But my luck soon ran out; as I turned around the corner of the dungeon, I bumped into two tall boys, who were walking together. "Woah! Watch where you're-" There was a pause as I looked up. The two gingers that I knew too well, stood there, eyes wide. "Y/n?" They asked at the same time. I ducked my head down, hoping they had missed the red, puffiness of my face. They, of course, were observant and hadn't missed it.

"N/n? What's wrong, love?" Fred asked, worry filled his features. Pain pulsed through my hand again. I clutched my wrist and held my right arm to my chest. It helped ease the pain a small bit. George glanced down at my arm and gently reached out for it. He took it on his own. The long sleeve of my robe, covering my hand. He rubbed it softly, eyes flickering up to mine, keeping eye contact. His chocolate brown eyes were welcoming and made me feel safe. Same with Fred's. Both waited patiently as I slowly rolled up my sleeve.

They both glanced down at the same time and gasped. They scanned my hand, taking in the, now, scars. They burned as George's grip tightened, causing me to flinch. George loosened his hold on me and quietly apologized. Fred's eyes flew up to mine. They were alite with rage. "Who did this to you, Y/n?" He demanded, raising his voice.

The slight raise in his voice sent me into a panic. My breathing began to quicken and the tears I had been holding back began to pour. My body began to tremble like it had when I was writing. Fred's face dropped and he quickly embraced me, apologizing repeatedly.

George and Fred then shared a look, beginning to lead me out of the dungeon. I buried my head into Georges shoulder, as him and Fred's arms wrapped around my shoulders. I only moved my head to see where we were as I heard "Password?" from a woman's voice.

We were at a painting. George whispered the password to her and it opened. I looked up at Fred in confusion. He glanced down, his eyes shone with worry, love, and sadness. He bent down and whispered in my ear, "Gryffindor common room." I backed my face away quickly, making my crying-dazed brain, dizzy. "I can't go in there! It's against the rules. I can't break any more rules." I rambled in a panic. Fred kissed my forehead, we had entered now. The Gryffidors in the room all stared at us. Fred whispered in reassurance, "It'll be alright. They all like you and if they have a problem..." Fred and George shared a look, one that challenged anyone to say something.

They brought me over to the couch, George sitting next to me. Ron and Hermione rushed up to us. "Are you bloody mental? If Umbridge finds out he's in here, we're all doomed." Ron looked like he saw a ghost. Hermione punched his arm and looked over at me. "Quiet, Ron. They wouldn't bring him in if there wasn't a problem. Is he alright?" she asked Fred and George, as I sat looking at my feet. Most of the Gryffindors in the room were watching now with a silent interest.

The twins ignored Ron and George explained what was on my hand to Hermione. George gently took my right hand in his, while Fred talked, and traced the words with his fingers. Harry, who had joined us, sighed. "Umbridge got ahold of you." It wasn't a question. He knew the punishment that was given to me. George looked up from my wrist in his hand, in confusion as Harry pulled his sleeve down. I glanced up in time to see writing scarred on his hand. Some were more faded than others, signalling that he had been subject to multiple punishments too. "She practically takes me in for sneezing. She has this quill that carves what you write into your skin." Harry explained.

George and Fred shared a glare, full of hatred. They were coming up with something to do in revenge. It was obvious. Ron was more focused on the scars on Harry's arm. "Bloody hell, Harry. Doesn't that hurt?" Ron asked, eyes wide. Harry motioned his hand to me, whose face was still rosey and wet from the tears. "Obviously, Ron."

George began to move, letting go of my hand, all eyes fell on him. He laid down on the couch, causing me to move further to the edge to give him space. He started patting his chest, making eye contact, suggesting that I lay down too. I was too tired to think a lot, so I just moved and laid down in between his legs with my head on his chest. George ran his fingers through my hair and I sighed happily. Closing my eyes, the tension in my body slowly disappeared. Around me, I heard Ron, Hermione, and Harry leave, going back to whatever they had been doing previously, Fred likely joining them.

George watched as I relaxed, finally safe from Umbridge's punishments in his arms. My breathing calmed and the feelings in my hand faded as George mumbled a spell to relieve the pulsing pain. I took a deep breath, sinking further into the couch and George. My mind slowed and I started falling into a deep sleep. George's hand continued to run through and play with my hair until he fell asleep as well. 

[g0ldengubler]

Hi! First of all i want to let you know I love your work, it feels so inclusive. I wanted to request a fluff with a bit of angst fic about reader coming out as bi to Spencer. Maybe they've been in a relationship for a while and she was a bit anxious about telling him. Thanks a lot

aaaaaaa i’m so sorry that this took so long i deepy apologize! thank u so much for the feedback and i’m glad u see it as inclusive! i don’t want to write y/n as someone really really specific look wise so thank u for seeing that💖 as a fellow bisexual, i love this idea! but here it is i hope u enjoy and i hope u enjoy the little thanksgiving vibes :)

Sweater Weather

Request: YES/no

Category: fluff

Couple: spencer x reader

Summary: you and spencer have been dating for several months now. the minute you two started dating, you made a promise to not keep secrets from each other, but that wasn’t something you kept. what better way to come out than on thanksgiving, right?

Word Count: none bc i wrote this in my notes app lol

✨masterlist✨

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

on a chilly thanksgiving night, the steam from the food on the stove fogged the kitchen windows as y/n prepared a feast for her and Spencer. it’s been several months since the two of you started dating. he was the sweetest guy you’ve ever met. you loved all his little quirks, like how much of a germaphobe he was or how excited he got when he rambled on with facts upon facts. you loved listening to the thoughts that were trapped in his brain, ready to explode out of his mouth for anyone to hear. you never told him to cool it when he was with you, because the sound of his voice soothed you.

you both had decided to stay in D.C for thanksgiving. reid’s mother was in at a clinic in houston and your parents decided to go on vacation, so everything just fit perfectly. you wouldn’t want to spend this holiday with anyone else, especially when he’s the only one you know who would watch it’s thanksgiving charlie brown with you and enjoy it.

while the excitement filled your body, your nerves were kicking in, too, and they weren’t mixing well. you were nervous because you were going to talk to him about something you kept from him; your bisexuality.

in reality, it’s not that big of a deal. but the two of you never really got into those deeper conversations. you didn’t know how he would react to that. what if he breaks up with you? what if he only accepts you just because you’re still attracted to men so in his head, he doesn’t have to accept the fact you’re also attracted to more than one gender? what if he’s like other men you’ve dated where all they hear is “threesomes”?

you knew this was just your nerves talking; you knew he was too sweet to think any of those things. but you’ve only been dating so long, so you didn’t really know each other fully yet.

as the turkey was at its end of cooking, the doorbell rang. you heard that sweet boyfriend of yours imitate a turkey with, “gobble gobble!” and couldn’t help my giggle as your ran to the door, skating across the floor with your fuzzy socks. when you opened the door, you saw your very handsome boyfriend, wearing a maroon knitted sweater with brown corduroy pants. “don’t worry,” he said, moving his pant legs up a bit to show you, “i have turkey’s on my socks.”

you smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck before his wrap around your waist, your lips softly crashing together. you broke away after a moment and let him in as the timer went off. he sat down the bottle of wine on the counter while you took the turkey out of the oven and sat it on top of the stove.

“man, does it smell amazing in here!” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist again, leaving soft kisses on your exposed neck.

“are you talking about the food or me?” you joked.

“all up to interpretation.” he smiles as he continues to kiss your neck.

“slow down there, pretty boy,” you said, pushing away as you began to cut the turkey, “we need to eat first.”

he chuckles as he finally lets go, stealing a quick peck on your cheek before hand. spencer helps you with the rest of the turkey and setting down the last few things on the table.

when should i tell him? you ask yourself, when’s the right time to tell him? is there a right time? ok y/n, stop making a big deal of something that really isn’t and just fucking tell him already.

“hey, spence?”

“yes babe?” he answers as he pours the wine for the two of you.

“um…before we eat, can i talk to you about something?”

spencer sets the bottle down after he finished pouring into his class and looks up at you, looking a little worried. “of course! is everything ok, y/n?”

you take a sip of wine (or more of a gulp but who’s paying attention), feeling the nerves kick in. you set down your wine glass on the table, getting the courage to tell him, yet trying to find the right words was getting harder than you thought. you kept stumbling your words until finally, you just came out and said it.

“look, spence. this isn’t a big deal and i don’t want it to be that way. we promised each other that we wouldn’t keep secrets, and i’m keeping that….”

you then grabbed your phone and hit play on a song that you already had ready. sweater weather by the neighbourhood  begins to play as you put your foot on your chair, cuffing your jeans. you gave him a meh smile with teeth, but clearly spencer wasn’t getting it, even though you did show him videos from online that had the song in them.

you end up giggling at his expression, feeling more relaxed to tell him. “i’m bisexual..and i never told you because i didn’t know how you would react. i just don’t want to hide that part of me from you. but because of my sexuality doesn’t mean i’m going to be a bitch to you and look at girls when i’m with you. i want to be loyal to you, because you’re the best thing that has happened in my life, let alone this year. i’m sorry that i kept this from you and i hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”

spencer slowly walks over to the other head of the table reaching out with his hand, his palm facing the ceiling. you put yours in his, feeling his thumb caressing your hand.

“y/n,” he began, “that doesn’t change a single thing about us. i love you, babe,” wait, did he say what you thought he said? “and i have nothing no problem with that. i don’t have a problem with anyone no matter their sexuality or gender. what made me fall in love with you the first time i lay my eyes on you, was how you see the world. i wanted to get inside your head since that day, because you’re intriguing to me in the most beautiful way possible.”

you quickly cupped his face into your hands and kissed him. he took aback at first, chucking in the kiss shocked. but then he wrapped his arms around your waist again, indulging in the bliss you both fell in.

when you broke away, you looked up into his eyes smiling. “did you know that i fell in love with you that day, too?”

all spencer did was smile as he softly rubbed his thumb on the side of your cheek.

“i love you so much, spencer reid.”

“i love you too, y/n. so much.”

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 25

Happy New Year’s Eve (and yes, I realize some of you are already in 2021, but I’m not.) Nothing like waiting until almost the last minute to get my promised new episode posted before the end of December. But success.

I’m currently on my lunch break, so I have to keep this short and sweet.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me as I’ve been writing this series. I truly appreciate each and everyone one of you. And shout out to my betas: @nomadicpixel​ @alievans007​ @heather-lynn​ and @mrs-captain-evans​ - you four are amazing cheerleaders and this story wouldn’t be what it is without you and your help.

♥Becca♥

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: n/a

Episode Summary: Chris returns to Los Angeles (and Ellie)... for real this time.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

This episode can also be read on AO3.

The Chris and Ellie series is primarily chronological. It begins with a flash forward to 2016 and has a few other scenes in the future. However, the majority of their story is told in chronological order starting in 2013 and going through 2017. Each episode starts with a date to help you place it within the story.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 24.5

Episode 25: Only Fools Rush In

December 5, 2014

Chris's house in Los Angeles was dark when the cab came to a stop in front of it in the early hours of the morning. The driver helped Chris get his luggage out of the trunk and then wished him a 'Merry Christmas' after Chris slipped him a tip.

As the cab drove away, Chris stared up at the big house, trying to block out the memories from that day in July when he'd seen Ellie and Pierre hugging. Now that he knew what had actually happened, he felt like a fool for jumping to conclusions.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret it. That rock bottom moment for him had been a catalyst. He'd finally gotten over the hurdles his mind created and was letting his heart take the lead on the whole Ellie dilemma. He owed it to them both to seek her out. He didn't know how it would go, but he was prepared to apologize and, if she wanted, walk away.

Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door and carried his suitcases in. His eyes drifted up the stairs and he knew he should take them up to his bedroom, but he wasn't ready to go there yet. Instead, he dropped the suitcases at the bottom of the stairs then walked through the quiet house, taking everything in.

For some reason, Chris had expected everything to be different, but it all looked the same. The only thing that was noticeably different was the smell. The house didn't smell bad by any means, it just didn't smell like the light, fruity scent that he associated with Ellie.

It wasn't until he got to the kitchen that he noticed things missing, specifically Ellie's things. Like her ugly coffee cups that she insisted on keeping next to the coffeemaker so they were within easy reach first thing in the morning. His eyes then slid to the floor by the backdoor where Daisy's things had been. He missed her almost as much as he missed Ellie.

Taking a shaky breath, he started a pot of coffee, knowing it would be the only way he was going to make it through the day after taking a red eye flight from Boston to Los Angeles. While the coffee brewed, he grabbed a mug from the cupboard and then looked back at the coffee maker.

"I don't know why you keep them so far apart," Ellie's voice came back to him from a long-forgotten conversation. "It's silly. The coffee cups should be right above the coffee pot for easy access. Everyone knows that."

"You're right," he admitted out loud in his empty kitchen.

Trying to remember the other things Ellie had said to him over their time together, he opened the doors of all his cupboards and began reorganizing them. At first, it required a lot of thought, but once it got down to just putting things away, his mind started to wander.

It had been ten days since he'd learned the truth about what had happened in the driveway back in July. At first, he had been too overwhelmed by the information and hadn't been able to process it. Opening up to his mom about everything had helped, but that had just been step one.

The next step had been sorting through his feelings. He knew he was in love with Ellie. Months of long, lonely nights of introspection convinced him of that. But he also knew that his feelings weren't what was important right now. Ellie's feelings were all what mattered. Him being in love with her didn't mean a damn thing if she didn't feel the same way. Or worse, if she hated him and never wanted to see him again.

He'd tried to put on a brave face for Thanksgiving, but his heart hadn't really been in it. He'd gone through the motions, but not even a competitive game of Trivial Pursuit had pulled him out of his head.

His mom had given him until Saturday morning before she'd stepped in to help some more. Through a series of questions, like 'what are you thinking' and 'what are you planning to do', she helped him get through the quagmire that was his brain. The outcome of which had been him deciding to go back to Los Angeles to talk to Ellie.

The biggest question that had followed his decision had been when. Scott had gone back to LA Sunday morning, but Chris hadn't been ready yet. He'd wanted to come back with a game plan. Even if it all ended up a complete and utter failure.

"What are you doing?" Scott's voice came through the fog of Chris's brain, bringing him back to the present.

Shaking his head, Chris turned and found his brother standing at the top of the stairs to the basement. Seeing the confused expression on Scott's face, he took a step back and took in the reorganizing disaster that was his kitchen.

"Are you ok?" Scott asked, slowly. He'd known Chris was arriving this morning, but he hadn't expected to find his brother rearranging the kitchen when he came in from the guest house where he was now living.

"I'm fine," Chris assured him. "Just felt like reorganizing, I guess." He shrugged. "Ellie was always commenting on the silly places some things were stored and she was right." Stepping forward, he opened the cupboard over the coffee pot. "The mugs are here now. Above the coffee pot."

"You could have just moved the coffee pot," Scott said with a stifled yawn.

"I could have, but it makes sense for the coffee pot, coffee and coffee cups to all be in one area," Chris explained. "Speaking of which, I made coffee. You want some?"

"Shouldn't you be fighting jet lag or something?" his brother asked.

"I slept on the plane," Chris replied with a shrug. "And I've had two cups of coffee this morning. I'll sleep later."

"In your bedroom or in one of the guestrooms?" Scott asked, cautiously. He knew coming back to the house was a big first step for Chris, but he didn't think his brother was fully prepared for the onslaught of memories that the house would bring. Seeing Chris tense at his question, Scott pressed on. "Have you been upstairs yet?"

"I couldn't go upstairs," Chris admitted, softly. The bedroom held so many memories for himself and Ellie but was also the place that his worst memory with her had happened.

"Want me to go with you?" Scott offered. He'd walked by Ellie's side during the aftermath of the breakup and now that his brother was forced to deal with it himself, he could help him, too.

"Will you help me with the kitchen first?" Chris asked, gesturing to the stuff that was still on the counters to put away.

Knowing his brother needed to mentally prepare himself to go upstairs, Scott helped him finish reorganizing the kitchen. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but some of the changes really did make sense. Others, he knew would drive Ellie crazy. Which made him want to take a picture and send it to her, but he resisted the urge. She didn't know Chris was back in town yet and he didn't want to be the one to tell her.

After the last cabinet door closed, Scott expected Chris to come up with a reason not to go upstairs, but his brother surprised him by leading him out of the kitchen.

"Are you ready for this?" Scott asked as he picked up two of Chris's suitcases.

"Not really, but it's not like I have much choice, is it?" Chris asked as he grabbed his other suitcase.

"It'll be ok, you'll see," Scott assured him. "The cleaning lady was here yesterday and she made the bed for you and cleaned the bathroom."

Leading Chris up the stairs, Scott waited for him at the bedroom door. He knew his brother needed to be the one to open the door to fully cement his current reality. Afterall, the last time Chris had been in the room, Ellie had been peacefully sleeping in the bed and it had been April.

"You got this," Scott encouraged as they stood outside the closed bedroom door.

Turning the handle, Chris pushed the door open and found the room just as it had always been when he came home from a long time away. It was both comforting and depressing.

He forced himself to take a step into the room and then another until he reached the bed. He dropped his suitcase onto it and Scott did the same with the other two.

Turning to survey the room, he saw the two neatly stacked piles of clothes on the dresser by the bedroom door. He recognized some of the sweatshirts that Ellie had borrowed from him, but others were just clothes he had worn during the days leading up to his early departure.

Sucking in a breath, he turned his attention to the closet. Crossing the room, he opened the door and was taken aback at the chaotic state of it. He knew he'd packed in a rush, but he hadn't realized he'd left it in such a state.

"I told the housekeeper not to clean it up," Scott said from behind him. "I thought you needed to see the way you left things."

"I hadn't realized," Chris whispered as he felt pressure building in his chest. He could only imagine how shocked and hurt Ellie had been when she'd seen the room. "I really fucked up."

"You did," Scott agreed. There was no reason to sugar coat things anymore. At the same time, he could feel the anxiety radiating off his brother. Reaching over, he put his hand on Chris's shoulder and squeezed. "You're here now. That's what's important."

Turning to look at his brother, Chris felt the weight of the last eight months on his shoulders. Not only had he lost Ellie, but he'd effectively lost his own brother, too. Both because of his own stupidity.

"I'm sorry for being a jackass," he told Scott.

"I know you are and I forgive you," Scott replied with a smile. "I'll try not to rub it in your face. Too much anyway."

Chris rolled his eyes and pulled his brother in for a hug.

"So what's your plan?" Scott asked, once they'd parted.

"I'm going to go talk to her," Chris told him. 

"You mean call her, right?" Scott responded. The idea of Chris just showing up at Ellie's apartment left him uneasy. Assuming his brother knew where she lived.

"No, I'm going to go find her and talk to her," Chris replied with a shake of his head. "We both know I'm eight months too late to just call her like everything is fine between us."

"You can't just show up, Chris," Scott insisted. "You should give her some sort of warning that you're wanting to fix things. A phone call would be the best way to do that."

"That's assuming she hasn't blocked my number," Chris pointed out. "And on the off chance she hasn't, who says she would even answer the call? Or that she won't hang up when she realizes I'm the one calling?"

"She hasn't and she won't," Scott assured him. He knew Ellie hadn't blocked or deleted Chris's number because he'd looked when he'd seen her the other day. As for the second part, he was certain that she would answer the phone for Chris. If only to make sure that everyone was ok.

"I have to talk to her in person," Chris stated in a tone of finality. "Even if it's just to tell her I'm sorry."

Scott sighed, but nodded his head, as if giving his permission, which meant a lot to Chris. He knew that Scott and Ellie had gotten closer during his absence and Scott had been there for her. Oddly enough, he even appreciated the balancing act his brother was doing to protect Ellie but also help him.

"I don't suppose you'd give me her address," Chris asked, hesitantly. He didn't want to cause problems between his brother and Ellie, especially if things didn't work out for the two of them, but it was worth a try.

"I don't know her address," Scott replied. It wasn't a lie, exactly. He didn't know the address of her apartment or even the address of the bookstore. He could tell Chris where Ellie's apartment was, but he didn't want Chris to catch Ellie off guard. Like his brother, she needed time to process things and having Chris just show up on her doorstep would not be ideal.

"Then I guess I'll start at the bookstore," Chris reasoned. "That's where I was planning to start anyway." He frowned as a thought crossed his mind. "She still works at the bookstore, right?"

"Yes," Scott told him, making a mental note to call the bookstore when he had the chance to give them a heads up. "They have later hours right now because of the holidays. You'll probably want to go on Monday. That tends to be their slow day, though with Christmas right around the corner, that might be different."

"I'm going tonight," Chris stated. "And I knew about the later hours, I saw it on their website. I plan on getting there right before closing time."

"Oh," Scott said, hoping his voice sounded calm despite the panic that Chris's words had caused. Then he remembered that Ellie wasn't working that night. He couldn't remember exactly what she was doing, but he thought it had to do with the afterschool program she'd been helping with. Possibly a Christmas party? Whatever it was didn't matter. All that mattered was that someone else would be at the bookstore and she would get a heads up that Chris was looking for her before they met. He wondered if Ellie would believe him if he sent her a text in the morning saying that Chris had shown up at the house.

"... and that's my plan," Chris's voice trailed off.

Scott blinked and then coughed awkwardly as he realized he'd missed Chris's plans while panicking. "Uh, sounds like you have it all planned out then," he said, hoping his voice didn't give anything away.

"Yeah, I guess," Chris replied, nodding, his mind on his plan. He'd spent hours formulating it and it was almost time to put it into action. He took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the disaster that was his closet. "I suppose I should deal with this."

"Good idea," Scott said, his mind on making the phone call. "I'll let you do that. I need to go make a phone call anyway."

It wasn't until Scott had left that Chris felt the weight of the pressure he'd succumbed to the night he'd walked away. Unlike that night, however, his heart was able to push past his chaotic thoughts. Starting with the overturned hamper, he picked it up, thankful that someone had taken care of the dirty clothes that had been in there.

It took him a couple hours to get everything picked up and the clothes from his suitcases put away. The hardest part of it all had been the sweatshirts that Ellie had borrowed from him. He smelled each one, hoping they'd still smell like her, but they didn't.

Around two in the afternoon, he gave in to the mental and physical exhaustion he was feeling and laid down for a nap. He slept for a couple of hours and woke up feeling a little groggy, but also recharged.

Hearing his stomach growl, he made his way downstairs and found the house empty. Going into the kitchen, it took him a few minutes to remember where he had moved things to in the kitchen, but eventually he had what he needed to make himself a sandwich.

With hours to kill, he thought about going downstairs to watch tv, but he wasn't sure he was ready for that. At least, not on his own. The basement, even more so than his bedroom, held so many memories for himself and Ellie. It was where they had built their friendship and where it had grown to be more.

Instead, he went back upstairs to take a shower before trying to figure out what to wear. All black seemed too dramatic, but he didn't feel right wearing anything she'd told him she loved seeing him wear. The goal of tonight was for her to see that he was back in town and for him to at least apologize to her. He hoped that she would give him a couple minutes to explain things, but he didn't want to push her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

He spent the remaining time going over every aspect of his plan. He purposely hadn't written down what he wanted to say, because he didn't want it to sound rehearsed, but he had a general idea. If all went well, Ellie would be at the shop when he got there and then he'd either talk to her or make plans to talk to her another time.

He felt nervous, but oddly calm at the same time. He was as ready as he'd ever be.

With two hours until closing time, he left the house and made his way to the Los Angeles neighborhood that the bookstore was in. He gave himself more than enough time to get there, not wanting to risk getting stuck in traffic and getting there after they closed for the night.

As it was, he got there a good forty-five minutes before closing time and stopped for coffee before finding a parking spot in front of the shop. He sipped his coffee as he waited, mentally going over everything he wanted to say to Ellie. Assuming she let him talk and didn't run him out of the shop.

With five minutes left until closing time, Chris got out of the car and made his way to the shop. The bells jingled above his head as he came inside.

"We're closing in -" A friendly voice started to say before switching to a less friendly one when he came into sight. "Oh. It's you."

Even though he'd never met Veronica, the shop owner, he knew that was exactly who the middle aged woman was. "You know who I am?" he asked, hesitantly.

"You're Ellie's actor," the woman replied, pursing her lips. "I'd heard you were in town."

"Scott," Chris said, suddenly feeling annoyed with his brother. Obviously that had been the mysterious phone call he'd had to make. "Look, I'm just -"

"I know you're trying to find Ellie," Veronica interrupted him. "Go sit in the break room. I'll be with you in a minute."

Confused, Chris followed her directions and made his way into the break room. It was as he stepped into the back room that he picked up on a familiar scent that rocked him to his core. Ellie had been here or maybe her scent was just imprinted on the place since she worked here. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed the smell until now.

"I dated an actor once," Veronica's voice said from behind him.

Chris turned to face her, waiting for a clue as to how it applied to himself and Ellie.

"It was the worst experience of my life," Veronica continued. "He was the vainest man I'd ever met, in the end. At first, he treated me like a queen. Taking me to parties and events with other famous people. Then something changed and it became hell for me. It's been thirty years and I still can't say one nice thing about him."

"I'm sorry you went through that," he said, still confused. "But you're right, Hollywood is filled with some pompous assholes."

"And are you one of them?" she asked pointedly.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I will admit that I let Hollywood and fame in general get to my head when I was in my twenties, but that's not who I am anymore or who I want to be."

"Ellie and your brother would agree to that, I know," Veronica told him. "Which is the only reason you are in the break room right now and not standing outside."

As she crossed her arms and leveled a protective look at him, Chris realized what was happening. His brother had obviously clued her into the fact that he was back to talk to Ellie, but Veronica had taken it a step farther, wanting to protect Ellie from anymore heartache if she could.

"I fucked up," he said, simply. Obviously, he had mentally prepared to talk to Ellie, not her boss, but if he had to play hardball to get the chance to talk to her, he'd do it. "And I hurt her in the process and I regret that."

"Now you're back," Veronica stated, visually unswayed by his words.

"Now I'm back," he confirmed. "I don't know if I can fix things, but I want to try. If she'll let me."

"And if she won't?" Veronica pressed.

"Then I walk away. Forever," Chris promised. Squaring his shoulders, he added, "I'm not here to tell her I love her. I'm not saying I don't, but I know that my words aren't worth shit to her, to you, to anyone who knew about our relationship."

Veronica's eyebrows rose at his confession, but she didn't interrupt.

"I just need a chance to talk to her," he continued. "My brother wanted me to call her, but I know this conversation has to happen in person. It's been too long for it to happen any other way."

As if triggered by the word 'call', Veronica's phone started to ring. He saw her take it out of her pocket and saw the look of surprise that crossed her face.

"Excuse me for a minute," she said before disappearing into a private office and closing the door.

Sighing, Chris sank down into a chair at the table. Dealing with an overprotective boss was not something he had planned. Let alone his brother tipping off said boss. That said, he was happy that Ellie had people looking out for her.

Hearing the door open, he saw Veronica putting on a coat.

"Mr. Evans, you are lucky that I believe in fate," she told him as she turned off the lights in the office. "I assume you brought your car?"

"Uh, yes," he replied, more confused than ever, as he stood up.

"Good, Ellie needs us," she told him. "I'll let you drive."

"Is she ok?" he asked as he followed Veronica out of the building via the door in the alley.

"She's fine, but Santa just called saying he was going to the ER for appendicitis," Veronica explained as she locked up. 

"Santa?" Chris repeated. What the hell was she even talking about?

"The costume should fit you," Veronica continued as if not hearing him. She led him down the alley and to the street.

"Wait? You want me to dress up as Santa?" Chris said, finally catching up. Sort of.

"Yes," Veronica replied, turning to look at him. "Unless everything you said in the break room was a lie."

"It wasn't," he said firmly, finally knowing something for certain.

"Good." Veronica nodded as they reached his car, the only one parked in front of the bookstore. "The community center is a ten minute drive from here. We'll need to hurry though. The kids are expecting Santa and Mrs. Claus to hand out presents."

Head still spinning in confusion, Chris followed her directions to the community center. Then found himself ushered down a dark hallway to an office.

"Your costume is in there," Veronica told him. She opened a door and all but pushed him inside.

Mind still trying to catch up with what was going on, it took Chris a minute to see the Santa costume hanging on a coat hook. Still not sure what this all had to do with Ellie, he grabbed the red, fake velvet pants and was in the process of pulling them on over his jeans when the door suddenly opened.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a woman dressed as Mrs. Claus come into the room. Her costume consisted of a red velour dress that matched Santa’s costume, a white curly wig and a pair of fake glasses.

Glasses that circled eyes he knew very well.

Eyes that widened when they saw him standing there. 

"Chris," Ellie said in a tone of disbelief.

Episode 26

Want to find me off tumblr? I'm @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

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[ffxivimagines]

Hello, everyone!

I apologize for how long it’s been since I left an update here. I’m doing alright, all things considered, and have been working on just getting through the past couple of years rather than writing much. My health is still wonky, as is its wont, and I still very much enjoy FFXIV. Not much has really changed for me aside from uhhhhh [checks list] most things.

I want to finish what I started and to keep writing for all you lovely folks on tumblr dot com, but I haven’t had the time or energy to keep up with it in a while. I’ve been writing, but it’s slow and mostly personal or paid work only. The last time I sat down to work on asks, it was like my brain was full of fog and I couldn’t think about where I could even start. It’s a slog to write anything as of the past year, even if it means a lot to me or I’m excited about it.

So! Onto what this means for the blog:

I won’t be updating this tumblr more than a couple times a year from hereon out. Asks may occasionally be answered if I’m able, but please don’t count on it.

If you’d like to continue any of the things I’ve written, make RP responses to them, or otherwise add to/interact with my past posts, by all means please do!

If you’d like to write your own sequels, routes, or character-specific pieces based off of something I made, please make sure to credit this blog and to tag me! I’d love to see and reblog your work! 💕

I’m still here and excited to read and interact with the fandom and other people’s ideas and characters from my little corner. I just don’t have the energy to write like I used to.

(And I do still write for FFXIV (just vereeeeery slowly). It’s just over on Ao3 and 99% of it is about a middle aged catboy with depression and two emotionally constipated boyfriends.)

So yeah… that’s what’s happening? I suppose?

I hope this makes sense to read through. My messages and inbox are still open if you have any questions!

Thank you for your patience with me and for your support and kindness. I’m sorry to not be able to follow through with this the way I intended.

[ka-za-ri]

Personal Assistant Pt. 2

Part 1: Here Part 3: here Part 4: here Part 5: here Part 6: here Part 7: Here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Hi. Hello. Thank you for reading the first chapter and for all the new follows. I’m still new to this whole fandom so excuse me if I overstep any boundaries. Unbeta’d because we die like heroes here. Please leave a comment or something idk, validate me?

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader Wordcount: 5,900 ish Genre: Smut Tags: Edging, Oral Sex, Orgasm denial, masturbation, sex toys, under-desk blowjob, sexual tension, sex on a desk, overstimulation

Probation Period

Lucifer wasn’t joking when he said you would be occupied with a lot of work. The first two weeks at the office were dedicated to acquainting yourself to the systems you would be using on a daily basis, learning the location of all the supplies as well as memorizing  what floors all the departments were. It was a proper nine-to-five with all the bells and whistles of benefits, overtime pay and paid-time-off as long as it was approved. Being so close to the head of the company, you came to realize just how much work actually needed to be done. Lucifer’s schedule was always full and you were constantly trying to squeeze in just one more meeting for him. It almost made the interview you went to feel like a feverish dream. 

Every now and then, you would steal a glance over to your boss after he finished speaking with another department head or analyst. The two of you would lock gazes and for a moment there would be a heat that welled up between your legs reminding you that everything he promised was real. 

You thought you were prepared for the job with your skill set, figuring fluency with an office suite was the bare minimum. However, you never thought you’d be learning six other proprietary systems while also having to answer a phone that never stopped ringing. 

Humans didn’t know many things; but, they could always be easily taught anything in the world with some proper training.

For someone who had lived hundreds of years, ensuring that you were well trained to actually handle the duties of his office before starting proper private lessons was a small price to pay. It barely passed in his mind that you could be needy and wanting more of what he had offered the night you signed your contract with him. He often looked fondly over the document after hours when even you had gone home, smirking in pride when he knew you hadn’t read everything thoroughly. No one ever did. 

You were beginning to think that the promise of “after hour activities” had all been made up and fell into a rhythm at work, quickly becoming efficient at weeding out the unnecessary meetings and phone calls by settling the issues at hand with a well worded email.Things were settling and finally you were in a lull where you could comfortably work and not feel like you were drowning in information. Still, even if you were a month and a half into your new position, the last thing he told you the night of the interview rang in your head. 

“Wear the same lipstick, will you? I’d love to see what that color looks like smeared all over my cock.” 

Ever since that night, you came into work with the same shade of red on your lips, hoping it would be the day he would get to see what the image of your lipstick all over his hard length looked like. It became so ingrained in your routine, you had even bought a few more tubes of the same color, just in case the current one you had ran out. 

Yet, nothing. No indications whatsoever from Lucifer that he took notice how obedient you were of his request. No outward signs that he was even remotely as affected as he was on the night of the interview. Soon enough, you had chalked it up to some persuasive tactics he used to get you to work for him. 

So, it was much to your surprise when you walked into the office in the beginning of your second month and found a small box sitting at your desk. Once your things were put away, curiosity got the better of you and you opened the non-descript box. The moment your eyes laid on the phallic object inside, you gasped and dropped it back onto your desk. 

“Is it not to your liking?” Lucifer’s low, silky voice came from behind you. He had somehow soundlessly made his way to your desk, watching your every move as you unwrapped his gift to you. 

“I uh… Uhm…” 

“A present… for making it through your first month here.” He explained, coaxing you out of your chair and bending you over your desk. Your body was as pliable and malleable as he remembered it to be. 

“I… Thank you… Lucifer…” you breathed, swallowing hard as you eyed the object nestled in the box. 

“Let me help you into it.” He offered, taking it into his hand. He moved one of your legs to be propped up on the top of your desk, the AC hitting your heat in a way it hadn’t in what felt like ages. Nearly nothing had been done and a fog of desire had already settled upon your brain. 

Now that he had an excellent view of your panties, he rubbed the stout, girthy toy up and down your slit, watching as your body twitched in reaction. Pushing your panties to the side, he pressed the tip of the toy into your pussy only to have a strangled gasp come from you as you weren’t wet enough to accept it yet. 

“I should have expected as much…” He murmured to himself. How foolish of him to forget that even if you had been in his care for the last month, your true training was starting today. Of course he couldn’t expect you to be as wet as he wanted as soon as you walked in. “Stay still.” He commanded and the warmth of his body left your side. 

Making his way to his desk, he unlocked a drawer and took out a bottle of lube. Generously coating the toy while he walked back to you, you saw the same glittering darkness in his eyes that made your heart race from the interview. Fearful that you had disappointed him, you started babbling apologies and begged for his forgiveness, promising to do better. He hushed you with a firm glare before going back to what he was doing. “The only thing you need to apologize for, is if you’re unable to be wet enough to take this first thing in the morning by next week.” he said coolly. 

The slick toy now much easier to slide into you was met with only the resistance of your tight pussy as he pushed it into you. “Starting today, you’ll wear this during your working hours.” He readjusted your panties once the vaginal plug was snuggly in you, the bottom of it just peeking out between your lips before your underwear covered them once again. Satisfied, he helped your leg down from the desk and put the bottle of lube into one of your drawers. “Don’t let it fall out now.” He said with a self satisfied smirk, turning heel and heading back to his desk as if nothing ever happened. 

The plug inside of you stretched you out and filled you deliciously so. However it wasn’t nearly large or long enough to properly satisfy you. Sitting down at your chair to start your own duties for the day, it pressed further into you, stimulating you and made it hard to concentrate on your tasks at hand. As hard as focusing was, the fear of disappointing Lucifer looming over you was even more oppressive. Any moment your mind wandered to the stretch your pussy was feeling, you forcibly had to look at something else or distract yourself with phone calls in order to get through the day. 

No matter how many distracting tasks you came up with, it did nothing to quell your arousal. The way the toy pressed at your entrance and teased all the spots inside of you that needed attention had your nerves on fire. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive if you needed to wear it on the regular. By the time your shift ended, there was a significant wet spot on your chair and on the back of your skirt. You were eternally lucky that there hadn’t been any physical meetings set up for the day. Though, you weren’t quite sure if it was actually luck or if Lucifer had orchestrated the day to work out like that for you. 

Regardless,cleaning up the mess you became in the bathroom was an adventure. The toy easily slid out of you and you groaned from both relief and desire. Having it inside of you all day only made you want something more. More being specifically Lucifer’s cock dragging itself in and out of your walls. As you washed the toy and stowed it away in its designated drawer, your mind meandered, wondering if today would be the day that you would see your lipstick on his dick. 

It was very much to your dismay though, when you came out of the bathroom, Lucifer had already left for the day and you were alone with your thoughts and a throbbing, aching pussy. 

~~

The moment you got home, you frantically searched under your bed for the box that held your own small collection of toys and grabbed the first one that you knew could satisfy you in the way you had been craving all day. Thrusting it into your sopping core, you moaned wantonly, throwing your head back and flopping onto your bed, not caring to take off any more clothes than absolutely necessary. 

The toy worked in and out of you and you bucked against it. Almost forgetting that it could vibrate, you turned it on and let it do its work, making you moan as you shoved its full length into you. If only it was Lucifer and not a piece of silicone. If only he had bent you over the desk after work and filled you. Your fingers rubbed at your clit and you angled the toy to brush against your g-spot, gasping and writing in pleasure as your vision filled with stars. You panted heavily, the pressure of an orgasm building quickly in your abdomen and you couldn’t wait for the release it would give you. It only took a few more hard thrusts of the toy on its highest setting before you came undone, crying out gratefully and spasming around it, your mind reeling in the euphoria of getting off after hours of being teased by a damn toy. 

But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t him. And it somehow felt dirty that you had cum without his permission, without his heated gaze on your body. A feeling of shame and guilt washed over your body while you powered the toy off, gasping for air after the whirlwind fucking you had given yourself. You whined, pulling it out of you rolled over, the initial high had been great but it left you feeling dissatisfied for some reason. 

It was as if your pleasure belonged to Lucifer. No matter what you did to yourself, it wouldn’t be nearly the same as what he could give you. Your pussy ached for more stimulation just thinking about him, even if you had just cum. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to relieve yourself unless it was at his behest. Sighing heavily, you dragged your limp body to the shower to get rid of the mess between your legs and to prepare for another day of long torment without relief in sight. 

~~

It took less than a week to train yourself to be wet enough to slide the vaginal plug into you without the aid of lube. First thing in the morning, Lucifer got a front row show of you parting your legs, taking the toy out of the drawer and putting it in you. You adapted quickly, kicking your skirt up before you sat down so that your bare ass came in contact with the chair and you would have less to clean up. Lucifer was kind enough to have the foresight to supply you with a leather chair to ensure your essence could be easily wiped up at the end of your shif. Ever since the first night, the desire to be fucked only grew in you. You hadn’t touched yourself since then, hoping, praying that he would show you mercy and relieve you in a way only he could. 

Ah, but Lucifer was cruel and he took his training very seriously. As soon as he knew you had grown accustomed to the first toy he introduced, he was ready to push your limits again as yet another gift graced your desk a week later. The butt plug, adorned with a glittering red jewel made you swallow hard. You hadn’t ever explored using your other hole, but Lucifer was at least gentle as he trained your asshole open that morning. 

Plenty of lube dribbled down your backside as he slowly worked the hard metal plug, pressing it against your tight ass and easing it into you, cooing and praising you the whole time. He pet your hair as you gasped from being stretched to your limit, he stroked your face as the plug finally slid into you and your whole body was alight with a flurry of sensations. “Good girl…” he praised softly, planting a kiss on your cheek before going back to work. As soon as you sat down, you knew you had a long day ahead of you as the duality of having both holes filled cast a fog over your mind.

Part of his responsibility as a boss to you was to make sure you were cared for, looked after and treasured even if his normal disposition was rather chilly. He was a stern businessman after all, but he did dote on you in some ways. The main way being that he made sure to be there every morning to fit the anal plug into you while you slid the other one into your waiting pussy. Every step of your training was meticulously overseen by him and he just loved the way your body accepted everything he tried as long as he was patient enough. 

Your workload never seemed to lessen, even with the weight of the plugs inside of you every day. The corporate world didn’t stop for anyone and you had to adapt even further to hide your sexual frustration from the guests that frequented the office during his meetings. Guiding them to the little alcove in the corner of the office lined with couches that served as a miniature ‘waiting room’ was the hardest part. Every step you took sent jolts of pleasure down your legs and you struggled to keep your pace even while maintaining perfect posture. Your muscles clenched and strained to ensure nothing fell out of you. Even if the journey was a short one, it felt like it lasted for miles with how much effort it took to look professional. You always ended your introductions with a smile, letting your esteemed guests know that Lucifer would be ready to see them shortly before having to make the long, arduous journey back to your desk. 

Lucifer took pride in the company he built and the people he trained. You, most of all, were so susceptible to all his lessons and adapted quickly. It only felt natural for him to spend on gifts for you, giving you a plethora of options to choose from on how to stuff your pussy for your day. Every few days, it seemed like there was a new box on your desk. Whether it was deliciously textured balls that rubbed against each other and stretched you in a way that made you see stars, or smooth orbs with weights in them, making you clench anytime they shifted inside of you, they all had one thing in common: they all left you wanting more. None of them ever seemed to stretch you far enough or deep enough to satisfy that itch and craving you had for Lucifer’s cock and you were driven nearly mad at that fact. 

He could just how frustrated you were as you cleaned up after yourself and bent over your desk, waiting for him remove the anal plug from your ass. Your essence flowed freely down your thigh at the end of the day and he was satisfied; especially when you let out that precious breathy moan of yours whenever the plug left you empty. You would always look back at him, pleading with your eyes for him to take it further and fill you, but it was business as usual for him. He’d tell you to go home and you would be left on the edge, unable to cum unless he gave you explicit permission to do so. 

~~  

The end of your second month working at Akuzon as Lucifer’s personal assistant drew to a close and by the third month you were there, no matter what task you were doing, your mind reeled with fantasized images of how you wanted Lucifer to take you and make you scream. It invaded every fiber of your being. It was so endlessly frustrating to see your boss completely straight laced and nonplussed at your predicament. He could tell you were close to your breaking point, almost a month of teasing and yet no release in sight; it would soon come time for him to give you what you truly craved. 

“Ah… This is a problem, can you come here and help?” He called you over to his desk and pointed at the space underneath. “I dropped the whole box of paperclips and I really don’t have time to pick them up before my next meeting. Be a dear, and help?” 

“Yes, of course, Lucifer.” you obliged, thinking nothing of it and scrambled on your hands and knees to pick up what seemed to be hundreds of paperclips on the ground. Before you were even a quarter of the way through, you heard the elevator in the distance ding, signalling the arrival of your next guest. Scrambling to get up and greet them, you only found yourself blocked off by Lucifer sitting down, scooting his chair right up to you and blocking your escape. 

“Don’t make a sound now.” He said quietly, looking down at you with an expectant expression on his face. “This guest is of the highest esteem and I would like to make sure this acquisition goes smoothly.” 

“Y-yes, Lucifer.” You mumbled, shifting enough so that you were settled somewhat comfortably between his legs and staring right at his thighs. 

“My apologies for not having my assistant greet you.” Lucifer said as his guest came in. “She’s on an errand and couldn’t make it back in time. Please, take a seat.” He stood up, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk and got right to work, discussing the terms of his next acquisition and his expectations once the companies merged. The talk was mundane and there was a fair amount of back and forth as schematics were discussed. 

He kept one hand on his thigh, gently stroking his crotch, and you watched wide eyed, barely daring to breathe as he got hard right in front of his client. His voice betrayed nothing, staying smooth and low while he discussed business matters. You could barely think straight as his finger beckoned you closer to his clothed crotch. His musky scent mixing with the smell of his cologne and newly dry cleaned clothes made you dizzy. As his cock started to strain and press against his pants, you carefully leaned forward, nuzzling his crotch and basking in his closeness. 

He seemed to enjoy this little development. His hand wandered over to your hair, pulling you closer and encouraging you. The thrill of possibly being caught sparked an arousal in you that you hadn’t expected. The conversation above you melted away as you focused on the hardening length pressed up against your cheek and breathing in his scent, getting intoxicated by just his proximity. His hand gently patted your hair as you nuzzled him to full mast under his clothes. You felt your arousal rise along with his cock, your slick essence soaking through your panties. Yet you didn’t dare touch yourself or make a noise. 

“Ah, how foolish of me. I forgot the final paperwork in my car. Please, excuse me for a moment while I retrieve it.” The client said as they drew close to closing the deal. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Of course, please take your time.” Lucifer said. You couldn’t see it, but you could almost feel the self satisfied smirk that was undoubtedly on his face once the guest left to retrieve the documents. 

As soon as the elevator dinged and they were alone, his grip in your hair tightened. He slid back just enough to see your face peeking out from between his thighs. “Don’t ruin this for me.” he warned, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. You started salivating as you saw his length unfurl before you, hard and throbbing, a drop of precum dribbling from the tip and your tongue darted out to catch it and taste him. He smirked, loving how obedient  you were without him asking you to be. “Don’t mess up my suit. Understand?” 

“Yes… Sir.” 

The dark glitter of lust shone in his eyes for a brief moment as you addressed him properly. He settled himself back into place and you were once again alone under the desk; but this time with a very important task at hand. It was a long ride up the elevator from the ground floor to the top, which gave you ample time to suck him off as loudly and as lewdly as you wanted. His cock filled your mouth hot and heavy, the salt from his precum and his scent cast a haze over you as you put as much of him in your mouth as you could. Your hand fisting the rest of what you couldn’t handle all at once. 

His hand in your hair set the pace, making your head bob as you slurped and sucked. Only once did you hear a satisfied groan come from him. But, that was enough to send your hormones into overdrive and you redoubled your efforts into pleasuring him. Your knees ached and your whole body felt too hot to be cramped under his desk like this; but the taste and feel of his cock in your mouth was worth it. It was truly too soon when you heard the tell tale ding of the elevator in the distance, signalling the return of your guest that you had to abruptly stop being loud. 

“I didn’t take too long, now did I?” 

“No, not at all. I was just reviewing everything to make sure everything is crossed and dotted properly.” Lucifer replied calmly, but you could hear a slight strain in his tone. His hand pushed your mouth further down his length until he hit the back of your throat. You fought back a startled squeal and resisted the urge to gag, relaxing your body and your reflexes to accept him as he saw fit. Satisfied, he removed his hand to go over a few more things on the paperwork and you took the prerogative to keep taking him until every inch of him was down your throat. You had to take slow breaths to keep yourself from passing out, his girthy cock blocking much of your airway. 

You could feel his thighs tense as he was balls deep down your throat. As soon as he was able to, his hand returned to your hair and set a languid pace, using your mouth and throat as a fuck toy while he hashed out important business details. Drool pooled at the base of his cock as you let him use you. The worry of ruining his suit caused your whole body to tense in anxiety and you prayed that everything would drip onto the chair below him and not on the expensive tweed of his suit. 

“Yes, I think all of that checks out. Just our signatures left.” Lucifer’s voice floated into your consciousness, the first clear sign that it was all going to be over soon. He didn’t know just how wet you were from sucking him off under his desk. Just rubbing your thighs together, you knew there was a slick mess for you to deal with later on your own. 

Just a little bit more… You told yourself, holding your desire and your breath as you heard the tell tale scratching above you of papers being signed. From there, it was only a few more congratulatory remarks and the guest was on his way out. As soon as he leaves I’m going to suck his soul out from his dick. You determined, fantasizing about how his hot load would taste going down your throat. 

“Yes, that’s the last of everything. I’ll have the receptionist see you out.” Lucifer shuffled the documents on his desk and slid them into a drawer. 

“Of course. I look forward to future business ventures with you.” 

“And I as well. Thank you for coming.” 

Something happened then that you didn’t think could ever happen. You stifled a whimper against his cock buried in your face, but it was impossible to not make a sound. Your whole body shivered when he said that word. The way it lilted and the meaning it held to you had involuntarily made you orgasm. All the sexual tension you had been asked to hold for the past month came crashing around you and you were a shaking wreck, clenching around the small toys inside of you. The lack of air making the euphoria of your climax all the more surreal. 

“Did you hear something?” 

“Must have been the air conditioning settling.” Lucifer lied easily, gripping your hair tightly as a warning. “It does that sometimes… scares me half to death when I’m alone after hours.” He chuckled and gestured towards the door when he saw a message on his desk phone light up. “My receptionist is already here to see you out… Please be sure to drive safely home.” 

“I will. Thank you again.” 

The pain of his hand in your hair grounded you as you rode out the unbidden orgasm. As soon as the elevator was on its way down, the pressure of his cock filling your mouth and throat as you were roughly pulled away from him. You gasped, tears of relief streaked down your face as you took deep unhindered breaths to clear your mind. Whatever plans you had to swallow his load earlier were completely dashed as he pulled you off his cock. 

He slid his chair back assessing your disheveled figure under his desk.  The sight of your drool and lipstick smeared across your face, your hair an absolute rat’s nest from the rough treatment and your trembling form in the aftershocks of your sudden orgasm did things to him he hadn’t expected. He knew he had you trained well with the toys; but it never crossed his mind just how much power his words had over you. Just the casual phrase he let slip had made you cum. The knowledge of that sent a thrill through his body as he immediately started to scheme all the things he could do to you. 

Lucifer glanced down at his cock, looking at the long red streaks of lipstick smeared all across the length. He smirked, loving how the color looked against it. “I was right… that color does look good all over my cock.” He pushed his chair back again to give you just enough room to timidly crawl out from under the desk and stretch your aching muscles. Seeing you on all fours also made him want to do things to you, things that would have to wait until later. “I was going to reward you for a job well done.” He started, pulling you up and sitting you on the edge of his desk. “But unfortunately… it looks like someone got too much pleasure out of this exchange without my permission.” 

His hands spread your thighs apart for him and he pushed your soaked panties to the side, the toys peeking out of your ass and your pussy were absolutely drenched in your juices. Your nether region quivered, and pulsated around the small toy, trying to milk it as you had done to his cock months prior. “Every one of your orgasms… belong to me.”

“Ye… yes, Sir…” you breathed. “I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again, Sir.” you babbled, praying he would forgive you. 

“I suppose I can cut you some slack. Even I didn’t know how sensitive you can be from my words.” His fingers stroked your labia, his touch driving you insane. It had been so long since he had last been intimate with you like this, your whole body was in complete sensation overdrive as it relished being touched by him again. Sure, he spent a few minutes every day prepping your ass; but that was nothing compared to what he was giving you now. 

“Thank you sir.” You sobbed, your heart nearly beating out of your chest at the prospect of feeling more of him. 

“Of course… It’s only proper that I congratulate you on making it through the probationary period.” He replied casually, pulling the plug out of your ass and letting it drop to the ground. He chuckled, as you whined, feeling your anus being stretched out as it exited you and then feeling the emptiness that came after it. The toy in your pussy came out next, but he made sure to take his sweet time to drag it out of you, watching it come out bit by bit. The needy whine that came from your lips as your empty cunt begged to be filled again was music to his ears. 

It was only a short moment after that all your needs were fulfilled. His cock easily slid into you, assisted by the copious amounts of your essence that coated your nether region. The dull thud of the toy hitting the ground sounded so distant. All that mattered was finally feeling full and having your needs satiated by Lucifer. With no one else in the office anymore, you moaned loudly, throwing your head back and clutching the edge of the desk to brace yourself. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer towards you. It had been so long since you had felt his cock inside of you; yet, your body seemed to remember every ridge and edge of it as he filled you up. 

“Does that feel good?” He purred, very pleased at your reaction. Holding off on fucking you was possibly the best decision he had ever made. However, now that he had you, he knew he couldn’t hold off again like that. Not when your heat surrounded him and released all the carnal desire he had reigned in for the past months. 

“Yes… Yes, Sir!” 

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, now huh?” he asked, starting a slow and steady pace to build you up to yet another explosive orgasm. “The toys I gave you weren’t enough? You wanted this inside of you instead, huh?” 

“Yes… Yes… “ You were delirious, swimming in a sea of pure pleasure as his cock hit every sensitive spot in you that had been craving attention for months now. You couldn’t see or think straight. It was all like the first time you had coupled during your interview. All of it was so intense and amazing, it took your breath away. “I want you so much, Sir. I can’t stop thinking about you.” you admitted freely. 

“What a good girl…” he praised, stroking your hair gently. “Your hard work will be rewarded.” He said before roughly slamming his hips into you and burying his whole length into you. Your cries of pleasure rang in his ear as he picked up the pace and chased his release inside of you. Your walls, so tight after your first orgasm hugged him deliciously and he saw stars every time he was balls deep inside of you. 

“Oh… thank you! Thank you, Sir.” you sang endless praises for him as he fucked you senseless, taking you to highs you had never experienced. Being teased for months on end had made all your nerves so sensitive, you could barely handle the reward he was giving you; and that was possibly the best part of it all. “This is the best… reward.. Thank you… thank y---” 

Lucifer cut off your words with a deep kiss, shoving his tongue roughly into your mouth and exploring your mouth. He could taste traces of him in you and it only served to make his hips snap into yours even faster and harder. He was close again. Anytime it came to being inside of you, he knew it would be over soon. Perhaps that was why he preferred to tease you for such long periods of time. The payoff was so worth it in the end. 

“Cum.” he commanded once he broke his kiss with you. “Cum like you did the first time, milk me.” He hissed, his pace now erratic and needy. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes, Sir!” you obliged, the pleasure building up in your abdomen crumbling all at once and you came around his cock hard. Your vision whiting out for a moment and your ears ringing from the force of your climax. 

It only took a few more brutal thrusts before he emptied himself inside of you with a satisfied groan, his long lashes fluttering as your walls pulsed around him and accepted every drop of his seed. “Very good…” He murmured softly, holding you in a close embrace and patting your hair as the both of you came down from the highs of your orgasms. 

Lucifer hissed as he pulled out of you once he was soft enough to do so. The image of his cum dripping out of you was so enticing, it almost made him hard again. Satisfied that you were properly trained for his needs, he adjusted your panties back over your crotch and looked up at your blissed out face. “Congratulations, you’re now a permanent member of my staff.” He cooed, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. 

You weren’t even in the right mindset to thank him, your brain reeling from the pleasure and your body relaxing after finally getting the release you had been craving for months. His words sounded like they were coming from under water, muffled and garbled. You blinked, in a haze, trying to focus. 

It wasn’t until something cool hit your neck that you jolted to consciousness, grounding yourself with the new sensation against your heated skin. A thin, delicate chain held up a beautiful pendant in the shape of a peacock feather now adorned your neck. In your high, Lucifer had pulled the gift out from his desk and helped himself to putting it on you. 

“A small gift… I think it suits you.” he explained softly. 

“Thank you…” You said, rather touched by the gentle gesture. “I’ll wear it with pride.” 

“I expect nothing less from you.” 

It was true, humans didn’t know much at all until they were trained. You were proof of that and he couldn’t wait to see what other things he could teach you to do with your body.