#i swear these people are gonna be the reason i get my masters i’m tired of being treated like a moron

[laidbackghost]

honest to god i wish people would assume i know something instead of assuming i don’t bc the amount of times i’ve been corrected on something in a condescending way is too many to count and i’m gonna start biting if it keeps happening

[prometheus2007]

new mutual spotted 👀 👀

just wanted to say your ocs are so pretty!!! <333 the outfits are so creative and i love how cute they look!!! i used gacha a handful of times and it's pretty difficult to get my thoughts on the app but i feel like you've mastered it omg

do you have any oc lore you wanna share? i would love to read it!!!

Hi there!!! Thank you so much, that means a lot to me. Gacha is very difficult to use sometimes, and I definitely haven’t mastered it, it’s a LOT to get used to, especially GL2. But again, thank you so much, that’s really kind of you <3 you’re amazing!!

WHEN DONT I HAVE OC LORE IS THE QUESTION… I really can’t say it all on a single post nor can I get my thoughts down at this time. The OCS regarding this page though are Promni and Galactic, they’re Omniversal Creators of their omniverse. Most lore I post revolves around them and other creators and the few OCS they interact with. I’m gonna explain every Creator now a little bit!

Firstly, for those who don’t know, a Creator is like a Sona of sorts, one that is made to represent you fully or partly, they often look a bit like you irl or once did. They often run the worlds you make behind the scenes. Despite being partly like you, they are also their own characters and don’t have to act exactly like you if you don’t want them to! I will also be explaining Demi-Creators, which are ocd made into Creators by the real Creators. Pretty sure I made up that term but the idea is often used. I am going to put Promni first AND last, she gets two sections of info as she is the MAIN oc I use on this blog. But I will also be explaining bits more of her lore in other people’s sections.

Promni is first now as it makes the most sense to me to put her first. She’s the first Creator out of everyone. She does not know how she became one. She’s an adult (I would say around 19-26, I have no set age for most of my Creators), but you would swear to the stars she acts like an old lady because she is cranky and tired. She’s had to put with people’s shit for way too long, as the omniversal has been around for over 600 trillion years.

Somewhat is next, I’m doing these in order of when they became Creators. Somewhat was created accidentally by Promni, due to Promni stuffing down her insecurities and everything that made her upset inside. Bottling things up caused her to create another version of herself, that she CANNOT fully get rid of. Somewhat is an awful person. Imagine in your head the most awful traits a person could have. Somewhat either has those or fully supports those traits. As time has gone on she has made Promni’s life freaking miserable, Promni is terrified of her and has only recently gotten rid of her. Her soul was wiped of power and sent to what I call the Nonexistent Void, which I will explain more about later. Somewhat is extremely abusive in almost every way possible. Btw Somewhat is around 27-33 years old.

Galactic was next, she was created accidentally by Promni as well, due to Somewhat wanting her to bottle every positive and happy trait Promni had because it was “unlikable and waste of time”. You cannot fully get rid of Galactic either, just like Somewhat. Both Somewhat and Galactic are extensions/version of Promni, and since Promni cannot fully be killed, neither can they. Galactic was created at first as a six year old, she’s the only Creator that has aged. She represents the inner child of Promni, she’s very sweet and silly. She is now 16 years old, she ages randomly, the more hardship she goes through and the more she matures, the more she ages. I feel so bad for Galactic, she is often ignored by everyone else because everyone is so focused on work and her efforts are either overlooked or everyone hates on them, in one way or another. For a ping turn was banned from the omniverse in most ways, each Creator having their own reasons to do so. I will post about this eventually!

We are moving on to Demi-Creators. First off is Alfred. Oh Alfred. I hate this man. I’ll explain his deeper lore later in time but he’s a demon who was the ruler of his universe before he had HIS ENTIRE MULTIVERSE turned into a black hole for power reasons and so he could reach to full omniverse and control it. Since he is an oc, there’s a version of him for every universe, but he was the worst one of all. The only one to complete the goal he has, which was to explore the depths of the omniverse. This is Somewhat’s best friend, naturally. He makes things worse for everyone and has a habit of stalking Promni which has made her very paranoid. He’s like 45 too. Very weird guy. He has an obsession over his universe’s version of a guy named Prometheus, who’s 20 years younger than him and is forced to work for him, even when he died and he was just fragments of a soul. Gross guy. He was obliterated to nothing but a consciousness because of @kart-ana ‘s OCS say thank you so him :3

Elpis is last. He is made up of every version of himself that was casted to the Nonexistent Void. The Nonexistent Void is a place where souls of immortal characters are sent if someone doesn’t want them to come back to life. So Demi-Creator Elpis is a fusion of all of the versions of him that are dead Whihc is lost of them lol. He is enemies with Alfred, every version of him hates Alfred. He also cannot stand Galactic, finds her too annoying and too silly. He is friends with Promni as has helped her plan to kill Alfred and Somewhat. But he’s not a good guy. He enables Promni’s worst traits and worst habits, believing that is what’s best for her because that’s when she focuses on work and her own omniverse the most( rather than her own mental and physical health. He uses his power to alter her emotions and stress levels so that she acts more professional (something Promni has asked for, but it’s bad for her. She asked him to stop doing this. Ask yourself if you think he did so), even using his own powers to make some sort of drink she takes because it was easier for her to take. He will do anything for his work, to be able to control what he can. He also never shuts the fuck up he’s a yapper in a bad way. He believes that they don’t need anyone to help them and that him and Promni are better off alone and with no help. When that isn’t the best thing at all. He’s too stubborn to change his ways. Deep down he’s really desperate to do what he can to make sure all versions of Alfred are eradicated. There’s so much more I wanna say about Elpis but I can’t spoil too much for @kart-ana and @mynameis---m …

Back to Promni. You can see she’s had a lot to deal with. She killed Somewhat by herself, don’t think Elpis helped her with that part. And she coordinated Alfred dying, Elpis didn’t help with the final preparations he just fucking hid like the coward he is. Anyways back to Promni sorry. She has to do 95 percent of the work at least, and overall has trouble communicating her wants and needs because she believes she’s burdening people with this information. She has nearly no friends because Somewhat would control mostly where she goes and who she talks to, and anyone that does know her outside of Galactic and Elpis don’t know that much about her situation. About the situation? Yeah. About how BAD it was? No. She is stuck in a cycle of not changing and pushing herself to her limits unless someone drags her out of her one way or another, because she can’t trust anyone else to do her job (other than Elpis… she shouldn’t trust him :(.) and believes only she can do this right. As you can see she has a big ego. She admits her faults over and over but doesn’t know how to stop this toxic cycles. On a lighter note, she is married to the creator of @mynameis---m has and they’re so cute together AAAAAAAA!

so yeah those are the main OCS on this blog how do you feel :3 DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY QUESTIONS PLEASEEEE ASK QUESTIONS PLEASE AAAAA

[kitthepurplepotato]

MWRMI Part 6

My Weird Roomate, Midoriya Izuku

Week 3 part 2 / Meet the Gang!

~•🥦•~

Summary: Y/N learns about Midoriya’s past and the gang’s secret tattoos. …?!

Also, why is Kirishima half-naked all of the sudden?!

Warnings: Swear words, hints of suggestiveness (they tell “funny” stories, 2 sentences, really.) a tiny hint of platonic (?) jealousy.

First Part Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“OH MY GOD, THATS RED RIOT THAT’S FUCKING RED RIOT, Midoriya!”

Okay, listen.

Red Riot doesn’t have a fan base; he has a fucking cult.

That guy had the glow up of the century after going through puberty.

Red Riot? More like Red Daddy.

No jokes, people say that quite a lot when they are talking about the hero. He’s so liked for his looks he actually managed to beat Dynamight and Deku on the “best looking bachelor” charts.

Red Riot barely had any presence in the hero world for his first few years; he had no confidence and he really didn’t think he can be a good hero or at least that’s what he’d said in the interviews. Then Dynamight took him under his wings, took him away from his last agency and that’s when the name Red Riot became a phenomenon; he got even more ripped and grew his hair out but still kept it red, just one shade darker; it’s shorter at the front and really long at the back which makes him look like a lion; majestic and frightening when fighting a villain. His close relationship with Dynamight also helped the blonde to get a better reputation, which he definitely needed at the beginning of his career; Dynamight might have been the one who saved the redhead first, but to be honest, they both saved each other from themselves.

Needless to say, the two heroes are constantly shipped by the fandom, and reading Bakugou’s rants on his official social media about it always makes your day better. Once he posted a picture about Red Riot sprawled out on his lap after a night out, drooling like a Rottweiler all over his trousers with the caption “Do you really think I would ever kiss that mouth?”, but people focused on the intimacy of the photo instead of it’s meaning. The blonde got so furious he deleted himself from the internet for two weeks.

Red Riot also admitted that he absolutely lives for Dynamight’s rants, so sometimes he stirs shit up just to get a reaction out of the blonde; he posts domestic pictures of Bakugou making breakfast in nothing but boxers and other shenanigans like that. The picture is usually followed by a selfie of him being beaten up by his best friend for being a menace or a screenshot of him being blocked on every social media when he’s away on a mission (because of course he has a secret stash of domestic pictures hidden in his phone, who wouldn’t?)

Ahh, you can talk about these two for ages, they are the funniest pair, like ever.

Midoriya giggles at your sudden outburst while you try your best to hide behind the sofa out of embarrassment.

“Aww, thank you!” The redhead smirks. “It’s always a pleasure to be adored by a beautiful lady like yourself.”

You don’t have time to really react to his sudden flirting because the air fills with tension for some weird reason; Midoriya stops smiling, black whip caresses your back and wraps around your body protectively. He looks furious and also does Bakugou, but his anger is pointed at you; if looks would kill, you would be dead by now.

“It’s a bit cold, isn’t it, Y/N? You should change into something warm before you catch a cold.” Midoriya smiles, but it’s more frightening than cute this time. Damn, if you would be a villain and he would look at you like that, you’d 100% piss yourself.

“I have no idea what the actual fuck is going on right now but I’m gonna sit down.” A purple haired, tired looking guy sighs and makes his way to the sofa like the time didn’t just freeze for a second. Honestly, you have no idea what’s going on either.

“Let me explain!” Chargebolt claps his hands happily. “Bakugou’s being a a possessive dick over his best friend, and Midoriya is the same with his roommate. Why? Don’t ask me.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

“This is why I’ll be single forever, Y/N. Don’t be like me.” The redhead sighs, also sitting down. Midoriya lets you go while mumbling ‘sorry’ but he doesn’t look sorry at all.

“What do you mean, Eijirou? Is Katsuki’s marvelous presence not enough for you to be happy? Aww, poor boy.” Pinky speaks up, clearly enjoying the drama. She looks even prettier in real life.

“Say another word, you pink bitch, and I’ll mount your stupid horny head on my wall.” Bakugou snaps, his face a lovely shade of red. Chargebolt blurts out a quiet ‘damn’ and hides behind the sofa, right behind the purple dude who just sighs at Kaminari’s shenanigans.

“Aww, is my face is so pretty you want to see it every day? That’s so cute, Bakubro!” Mina coos and that’s when shit hits the fan; you quietly leave the room to change as per Midoriya’s advice (what the fuck was that about? Yeah, you are wearing comfy shorts but so is he.) while Red Riot hardens between his two friends, acting like a shield to stop them from killing each other. After a few minutes, the yelling stops; apparently, their pizza order is more important than an impromptu mass murder.

It takes you a while before you have the guts to go back so you can properly meet Midoriya’s chaotic friends; you still have no idea what made the two friends so mad, but to be fair, Bakugou is known to blow up for no reason at all, so maybe you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Hey.” Midoriya’s green head pops in through the door. He looks a bit flushed and a little bit guilty. He’s absolutely adorable. “Can I come in?”

“I was just about to go out, but yeah.” You mumble, your voice strained from the stress. Deku closes the door and leans back to it; his face is contorted into a frown but he tries his best to give you a smile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you. I had no right to treat you that way.” The greenette is clearly beating himself up for his actions and it brakes your heart.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” Midoriya jumps in. “Eijirou is a nice guy, he talks like that to everyone. Bakugou is a possessive asshole over all his friends, especially him. I was so excited for you to meet my closest friends yet I fucked it up.”

Oh no, not the teary eyes. You can’t handle the teary eyes right now.

“Midoriya…” you move closer to the slumped greenette, taking his hand into yours. He looks at you with the cutest lovelorn expression. “Stop looking at me like that. I really want to hug you tight when you do that.”

You really didn’t mean to say that. You really didn’t.

“Then hug me, Y/N.” Midoriya says, a new kind of emotion swirling in his beautiful eyes. Your body moves on its own as you embrace your favorite hero with such passion that Midoriya’s back hits the door with a loud bang from the force of it. You can hear his heart beating loud and fast when your face hits his chest as you squeeze the shit out of the poor guy. The hero’s hand ends up in your hair, slowly massaging your scalp while he takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Midoriya lets your hand go and pulls you even closer by the small of your back; your bodies clash with each other completely as Midoriya melts into your touch; his muscles feel amazing under your cheeks. You’ve never felt so content in your life.

Okay, this hug is way too passionate to be called “friendly”. You are about to pass out. He smells so amazing, like pine and sea salt with a hint of spice, masculine and earthy. The world stops for a second, Midoriya’s friends on the other side completely forgotten as the two of you embrace each other, your true feelings showing without you even saying them out loud.

This is when reality really hits you; you don’t just have a crush on this guy; you are absolutely fucking smitten with him already.

Ahh, you are so fucked.

“STOP MAKING OUT, YOU FUCKERS!” Bakugou ruins the moment with his yelling. When you two realize the situation you are in, you jump away from each other with a “sorry”, like two emotionally constipated teenagers.

“Maybe they are just having a fight.” A tired voice mumbles, probably the purple haired guy you don’t know yet.

“With their mouths, yeah.” Pinky giggles mischievously. If your face wasn’t red enough before, now it is.

“I mean, can you blame him? Y/N is cute as hell.” Motherfucking Red Riot comments and that’s when Midoriya opens the door with a flushed face.

“Can we start this all over?” Midoriya yelps. His friends try their best to not comment on their disheveled appearance for the sake of you and nod in unison. “This is Y/N, my FLATMATE. She takes care of the flat when I’m not around.”

“She takes care of more than that by the look of it…” Chargebolt whispers into Jirou’s ears, who slaps the guy on his head to shut him up. Jirou is a great friend. You love her. “You know Kacchan and Jirou already, then you have Kirishima Eijirou, but you also know that, Kaminari Denki, Ashido Mina, Shouto Todoroki who doesn’t speak too much but he’s one of my closest friends and Shinsou Hitoshi who you might remember from the sports festival. He works with Aizawa-sensei as an underground hero so his face isn’t well known but he’s amazing.”

“I still don’t know why am I here today” Shinsou mumbles, clearly hating the fact that he was forced to come over. He doesn’t look like a guy who enjoys being in a large group.

“You are here because you are important to us, and I can’t believe I need to have this conversation with you after all these years.” Kaminari sighs, looking at the purple haired hero with disappointment in his eyes. Shinsou looks back at him with a guilty expression, showing the yellow haired man with his shoulder in a silent sorry.

Wow, you ship them. So much.

Damn, you really need to stop reading gay fanfictions when Midoriya is not home.

“Now that we all said hi, it’s time to embarrass Midoriya!” Chargebolt speaks up energetically. “Which story should we start with?”

“Guys, please!” Midoriya pulls you to the sofa while hiding his face with his other hand in embarrassment. You sit down next to each other while the group fights over which story should they tell.

“His first almost-kiss!”

“What about the time when Katsuki saw him doing nasty things in his room?”

“That’s not an embarrassing story, I literally thought he’s not into that shit until that moment. I was proud of him.”

“KACCHAN!” Midoriya hides his face in your neck in embarrassment and you try your best to not explode. Jirou looks at you with pity in her eyes.

“What about his secret tattoo?” Kirishima chimes in, and you perk up; you really like tattoos and you always wanted one. “Ahh, she likes that! So it happened on Katsuki’s 21st birthday…”

“Oh my god…” Deku mumbles, still hiding in your neck. “You might not like me that much after tonight, Y/N” he sighs, making your whole body tingle with his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin.

“I’m a loyal fan.” You deadpan. It’s really hard to concentrate on the story right now to be honest.

“So we were really drunk when Tetsutetsu and his gang came over and challenged us to a fight. The loser gang had to get a tattoo. The fuckers knew we are too drunk to realize they are all sober so they beat us to pulp. We woke up the next day with new tattoos. On our… bottoms.” Kirishima looks down with a flushed face. “I have a rock, you wanna see?” Kirishima excitedly jumps up, ready to show you his sick tattoo, but Bakugou is having non of it.

“Eijirou, if you pull your pants down in front of everyone I’ll absolutely kick you out of my house.” He whispers threateningly, his hands ready to block the view. Kirishima sits down with a sad puppy look.

“It’s not that far down!” The redhead whines, but gives up anyway. “Please, don’t kick me out, I fucking love the sauna and I also own the half of the flat.”

So Red Riot and Dynamight bought a flat together. Interesting.

Would it be weird to write a fanfiction about that, now that you know them in person? Probably.

The life of a hero fangirl is really hard sometimes.

“I have a Pikachu!” Kaminari chimes in proudly.

“I have a Hypno. Thanks for that, Denki…” Shinsou mumbles, clearly hating his teen self for being so stupid.

“I wanted us to match!”

“You have no reason to moan, Hitoshi, I have a fucking pinky tattooed on my bum.” Mina admits shamefully. The whole team bursts out laughing at the old memory.

“I have a picture of soba noodles. That’s my favorite food.” Todoroki declares with a straight face, like it’s a pretty normal thing to have your favorite food tattooed on your bottom.

“I have headphones! Like the ones I use when I fight the bad guys!”

“Mine was a small explosion but it was too boring so I made it into a massive one.” Bakugou pulls his shirt up, showing off a massive tattoo on his side. Wow, it’s really hot in here. Like, really really hot. Damn. You can’t believe no one ever realized that Dynamight has so many tattoos hidden under his shirt. The other side of him is also full of ink, but you can’t see enough of it to be able to decipher what it is exactly.

“Why can you show yours but I can’t show mine? It’s not fair!” Kirishima grumbles. “You know what, you can’t tell me what to do.” Kirishima slowly unbuttons his shirt and shows you a massive black and red dragon on his chest. So this is why the hero changed his costume into something less revealing. He’s hiding a fucking beast under it.

You might die tonight.

There is no way your heart can take more of this shit.

Where is the water? You are kind of thirsty. Respectfully… thirsty. For water.

Yeah.

“Can you guys stop stripping? I have a broccoli by the way. Not like anyone cares at this point.” Midoriya pouts and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Midoriya, that’s so fucking cute!” You yell, the two stripping heroes long forgotten. “Colored or black and white?”

Midoriya perks up now that your attention is back on him, a shy smile decorating his face.

“Colored. It matches my hair. I know most of us are ashamed of these tattoos but I really like it. It reminds me of my friends. It reminds me that I’m not alone anymore.” Midoriya smiles into the distance. “It reminds me that whatever happens, there will be someone there to catch me when I fall. We are a family.”

“That was so manly, goddamn it!” Kirishima cries, tears falling down his cheeks.

“What the fuck, shitty Deku, this was supposed to be fun, now I want to throw myself off a cliff!” Katsuki rolls his eyes aggressively but he can’t hide the fond smile when he looks at his crying flatmate.

“No worries buddy, Midoriya will be there to catch you!” Mina giggles, clearly having the time of her life as she looks at the three boys.

“Now you ruined it.” Midoriya mumbles, unimpressed. You really tried not to laugh, but seeing all these people taking the piss out of each other made you laugh out loud. You’ll never forget tonight, that’s for sure. These people are truly amazing.

After a few more minutes of banter the pizza arrives; Midoriya puts in a DVD with some old interviews and they all laugh at their awkward faces on the screen. The whole situation is so intimate, everyone is so close to the other, limbs and arms intertwined with each other while fond smiles are being exchanged when someone new appears on the screen. The guys tell you about Ingenium’s matching bum tattoo - he has a pair of glasses -, and about the time Jirou fell on the stage; you hear a bunch of stories the public have never heard about while Midoriya snuggles closer and closer as the night turns into an early morning… your heart swells from the happiness to be able to be a part of something so private without feeling like an intruder. The group welcomes you with open arms, letting you in without a question.

“Can I tell the story about Katsuki almost exploding his dick of when he tried to…” Denki mumbles half asleep, but Katsuki gives him a massive slap before he can finish the sentence.

“Midoriya had a girlfriend in high school for a few weeks but he was so wind up about their first kiss he threw up right in front of the poor girl. We haven’t seen her since. She changed schools.” Another half asleep mumble, this time from Kirishima, who somehow ended up sprawled out on everyone’s laps on the sofa.

“I think Denki’s bisexual awakening is a good story to tell. It was the first time I actually laughed in front of everyone. He’s helpless.” Todoroki chimes in, probably the only one still fully awake from the team.

“Says the guy who wanted to call an ambulance on a girl who blushed and didn’t even realize she was trying to ask him out.”

You have no idea who’s talking anymore. It’s almost 5 AM and Midoriya is so warm next to you, you can’t help but hide your face in his arms. You can feel Midoriya’s hands stroking your hair, the affectionate caress slowly lulling you to sleep.

“I’ll put Y/N to bed, you guys get comfortable. You know where to find the spare bedding, yeah?” Midoriya takes you in his arms, moving you towards your bedroom. The group mumbles incoherently, clearly ready to sleep as the hero puts you down on the soft sheets, tugging you in like a child. Something soft touches your forehead but you are too sleepy to react; it feels nice and warm like the sun on a breezy afternoon.

“Sleep tight, sweet pea. See you tomorrow.”Someone whispers. The nickname makes you smile subconsciously. “I don’t want to leave, to be honest. I always want to be around you, I wonder why.” You can still hear the mumbles but you can’t understand the words anymore; it’s too late and you are too tired to keep listening.

You dream about green curls and soft touches, about the stars and the moon, so close yet so far away, you dream about touching the sky, about reaching out for the brightest star only to fall back down on Earth, but you stand up and try again, until your hand reaches the one with the scars, until your fingers intertwine and you never let go again.

~•🥦•~

“Maybe it’s the cold of the night. Such a drastic change compared to the warmth of the day… I’ve never felt cold before but I probably didn’t even know how the warmth felt like on my skin until I’ve met you. Now that I know, I’m craving it. So much. You are like the sun, Y/N. Please, never change; and stay by my side for a bit longer, until I’m strong enough to let you go. I hope you’re sleeping. It will be really awkward if you’re not.” Midoriya giggles and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Midoriya Izuku really needs to get a grip, he thinks as he makes his way to his own bedroom, already hating the cold feeling of his sheets.

… Next Chapter!

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Potato ramble:

Damn, that ending. DAMN.

Fun fact, that bit wasn’t planned. At all. It just happened. The hug wasn’t planned either. It’s all Midoriya’s fault.

- I also feel like I owe you guys an explanation for the iffy jealousy scene: in Midoriya’s case it was 50% jealousy and 50% protectiveness. He doesn’t really understand his own feelings yet and he couldn’t really handle that situation very well. He’ll get much better at it in the future. Midoriya was never a possessive person but Y/N told him he can be a bit selfish sometimes and he listened. He’s growing as a person it’s just really hard to tell. He’s such a weirdo I love him 🥦

- Ao3 is down and I want to cry.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated as always 🥦💚

Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @momothemasocist

[fan-fantasies]

Rockin’ Willy’s

A/N: okay so this is a super specific thing to mine and Breezy’s childhoods. There was a store in our now closed mall called rockin Willy’s where you could buy music and incense and jewelry and a whole bunch of cool shit. And they had this super cool black light poster room that I’d beg my gramma to take me into and that whole store is just giving me Eddie vibes. So please enjoy taking a little dive into my childhood!

Pairing: Eddie x reader (could be gender neutral)

Warnings: mentions of drugs, maybe a swear?

This isn’t like my usual stuff, but it’s something near and dear to my heart so I hope you still like it!

Please comment and reblog :)

You watched as throngs of people walked through the mall outside your store. Well- it wasn’t your store, but you worked there enough that it should be. You knew the owner intended for you to take it over when he was ready to retire but you were getting tired of waiting for that day- part of you worried that the store wouldn’t last much longer.

Rock music was the newest focus on the media, and not for positive reasons. Satanic panic had swept the nation and small minded people bought into it. And where were there smaller minds than the ones found in Hawkins?

You knew it was going to be another slow night so you lit your favorite incense and put on a Twisted Sister album. You figured it would be a good way to pass the time while you did inventory. You ended up getting lost in your “devil music” so you didn’t hear when someone actually entered the store.

“Excuse me? Hello?”

“Oh shit, my bad!” You jumped out of your skin when you heard the voice. You turned around and immediately froze when you saw one of the prettiest guys you’d ever laid eyes on.

He wasn’t one of the normal Neanderthals of Hawkins but rather someone who looked like he had a personality. He had fluffy hair and deep brown eyes. The rings on his fingers caught the light just right as he tapped his fingers on the counter. You didn’t realize you had been staring when he cleared his throat. But it was okay because he was staring too.

He wasn’t expecting to see such a beautiful creature turn around when he walked up to the counter. All the air left his lungs and his palms got sweaty.

“What can I help you with?” You tried to act natural while you cleaned up your inventory papers.

“I was told this place was pretty cool so I thought I’d stop in. Any recommendations on what I should check out first?”

“Me well that depends what you’re into?”

“Metal, I’m in a band actually. And I’m a dungeon master,” Eddie said. He hadn’t been lying when he said he was told the place was cool, but he was also told about the hottie working there. He didn’t believe his friends when they had told him- hot and cool? No way.

“Oh Dungeons and Dragons, right? Yeah, we have some stuff for that! And music, obviously- shirts, incense, posters. You wouldn’t happen to be Eddie, would you?” You asked. A few of your only frequent customers had talked about their DnD club before and mentioned their badass dungeon master.

“Y-yeah, that’s me,” he smiled awkwardly.

“Gareth and Jeff are always talking you up. They said you’re one hell of a guitar player too,” you told him. “Maybe I could come to one of your shows if you have any?”

“That would be great! Yeah!” Eddie coughed and toned down his rather embarrassing excitement. “I’ll let you know when we have one.”

“Sweet! Well, why don’t you take a look around and see if there’s anything you like. I’ll be here if you need me,” you smiled. He nodded and ran to the back of the store.

He definitely did find something in that store that he liked and it was you. Gorgeous, cool, and interested in his band? You were too good to be true.

After that night, Eddie became a frequent customer. He spent almost all of his dealing money on the cool new shit you’d show him each week. He wasn’t gonna complain though; he’d spend every last dime he had just to watch your eyes light up as you talked to him about music or your favorite new scent of incense.

You were also growing quite fond of the metalhead. The first time you saw his band play really sealed the deal for you. Watching the way his fingers danced with his guitar strings mesmerized you and you weren’t sure you could ever tear your eyes away. That was until they found his plump lips, moving along with the words of the song.

You were both head over heels for one another but neither of you were gutsy enough to make the first move.

Jeff and Gareth always got a kick out of watching the two of you interact and teasing Eddie about it the day after. He would usually just roll his eyes and hide behind his hair, his heart skipping a beat when Jeff mentioned how you looked like you were fawning over him too.

After a few more weeks of the will-they, won’t-they bullshit, you decided to take a chance and make a move.

Eddie came into the shop about 30 minutes before closing, as per usual. He would always stay after and help you clean up, stating that it was the least he could do for pestering you so close to closing.

“(Y/N)?” He yelled when he didn’t see you when he entered.

“Hey, Eds! I’m back here!” You called from the back of the shop. It had been closed off recently for some renovations, a secret that you had yet to reveal to Eddie.

“Hey, there you are,” he smiled softly when he found you straightening out a few folded shirts.

“How’s it goin, rockstar?” You asked with a smirk.

“Oh you know, same old same old. Dealing to the popular kids who hate my guts during the day but always come back for more at night,” he said with a sad laugh. You knew he played tough for everyone else and pretended that the teasing didn’t get to him, but that would get exhausting for anyone.

“Hm well I think I may have something to brighten your day,” you said.

“Just being here is enough to do that,” he replied.

“Well if that’s the case, I guess you don’t wanna see what they’ve been working on back there,” you said, pointing to the taped up plastic blocking off the project.

“Wait, are you serious?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Dead serious, Munson.”

“We’ll lead the way,” he said, bowing out of the way for you. You just laughed and shook your head as you walked by him.

You pulled back the plastic to reveal a large hole in the wall in the shape of a clown’s mouth. It was completely dark on the inside.

“What in the hell?”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” You smirked. You grabbed his hand and pulled him into the mystery room. The plastic fell back down, eliminating any light that could get in.

“Is this where you kill me?”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

You flipped a switch and a black light illuminated the walls- walls that were covered in glowing posters. Every inch of the walls and ceiling was covered in a cool new poster. Some were scary, some musical, a few were littered with varying psychedelic mushrooms.

You looked over at Eddie who just studied the room with his jaw slightly dropped, staring with awe.

“Isn’t it something?” You asked with a huge grin. He finally looked at you, struck with your beauty in the glowing light.

“Yeah, sure is,” he said breathlessly, but he wasn’t talking about the posters.

The two of you stared into each other’s eyes for a minute before you decided to close the gap between you with a quick kiss. Eddie wasn’t even sure it was real, it ended as soon as it began. He decided to find out though by pressing his lips to yours again, this time in a slower, sweeter kiss. You melted into him, instantly feeling at ease.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do that for forever,” he sighed happily as he pulled away.

“We definitely should’ve done that ages ago,” you laughed.

“Guess we have some lost time to make up for then, huh?”

He pulled you in for another head-spinning kiss. You made a quick mental note to thank Jeff and Gareth for telling Eddie to check out your store… and for telling you to make a move because if they had to deal with Eddie being a lovesick puppy for one more day they’d die.

Yeah, you had plenty to thank them for.

—————————

Taglist: Taglist: @mellomadness @munsaniac @thebookbakery @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @rafecameronswhore @dootys @tiredwritersworld @lily-sinclair-2006 @dylanobriens-love @moonbeampillgoth @lady-hellfire-1985 @lagataprrr @whore-of-many-hot-men @crimsonsabbath @moldy-khunt @wheaty-melon

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

Regaining control

Yelena fucked up. She’s made a wrong choice during the critical moment of her mission. And the price for this choice is too high for both of you.

Angst, mention of cheating, oneshot

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader. 

"Babe, I'm home. Finally these three months are over. I'm so fucking tired. I can barely walk."

Yelena dropped her bags in the nearest closet, not even caring to unpack them. She was exhausted. 90 days without you in a country so unpopular most people don't even know it's name.

Surveillance, fights, guns. All the same. She was longing to come home to her woman. But you didn't greet her as you usually did. The door was closed only on one key, so you were home. But where exactly.

"Babe, I'm gonna order some normal food. Mexican will be OK?"

"Do as you wish, Yelena."

Oh, shit, She knew she was in trouble. Not only did you call her by her full name you didn't sound excited at all.

"Are you hiding from me, babe?" 

It wasn't hard finding you in a three flat apartment. You were in the master's bedroom. Standing in the middle of it staring on the phone screen with a blank expression.

"What did I do wrong?" Yelena tried to approach you.. 

But you couldn't bear to face her, so you've made a few steps back. Now with the bed being between you.

"Stay there, Yelena."

"What is going on?" 

You knew Yelena started panicking. Her accent got thicker, she started blinking too much. 

"Well, you tell me." You threw a phone on the bed. 

"Tvoyu zhe mat' (Oh, fuck)." Yelena let out a groan. 

She saw the message and understood everything.

"Are you sure you don't want to change your reaction?" You didn't want to push her, but she text was sent two months ago. Two whole months. You couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. barely managed to get out of bed. And now you needed answer.

"Yelena, be so kind, read it for me outload. Pozhaluista (please)"

"Babe, this is unnecessary. I..." Your cold look stopped her. She wasn't in the position to do as she wanted. Yelena grabbed the phone. "Thank you for this night. Just as rough as I like it. Anything for my personal Black Widow."

She felt tears falling down her cheeks. How could she fuck up so badly. "It's a... Yes.. I was with her...I know you don't care now. But...."

Yelena wanted to explain, for you to understand. But did you need it?

"Leave, Lena. Now, just..." You tried to walk away. Almost managed. But you felt her firm hand on your shoulder. You recognized the tingles running down your spine .It was her calling for you. Pleading to look at her. Asking for a permission to still belong to you.

"Y/n I've made a mistake. I lost control there. There were casualties and I..."

 You could barely hear her, She was whispering and started sobbing. If it was a different day, different reason for her behavior you would support and protect her. Like you always did. You didn't shake off her grip. You still needed to feel her, even though there was no point anymore. 

"I knew she liked me and I got drunk. I felt that I've failed everyone. Not living up to the legacy, 'cause of my poor judgements those people were dead..."

"So you took back control by fucking a random girl? That's how you live up to the legacy?" 

"I wanted to tell you as soon as I come back."

You were becoming angry.. "Really? That's so noble. Just perfect." 

"Y/N, please look at me. It meant nothing. I regretted it immediately. I told that girl that I have a woman I love." Yelena started studdering, being choked by her own tears. "Just I look at me! Umolyau (begging you)."

"Why would I? Listen..." You shrugged your shoulders finally wanting those tingles to leave. "I know you've been through a lot. I know that we're both working on our relationship. And we've both made certain promises. But cheating wasn't one of them."

Yelena didn't want to let you go. You were her soulmate, her sun, her hope. You were the one who helped her feel something other than pain and disgust. 

"No, it wasn't. But I..." Woman fell on her knees. "...I swear. It won't happen again. Give me a chance. "

Suddenly free from her warmth you didn't feel relief. Just sorrow. Yelena would say "smertnuyu tosku". One of the deadliest assassins, one of the best Red Room's graduates, international  double/(triple?) agent was quietly weeping.

"Swear to me you won't lie. Won't hide anything. And I'm begging don't forget you're not alone. And maybe than..." You knelt down to her level. "We' might talk. But don’t give any guaranties ."

"You promise we'll try?" Yelena touched your forehead with hears.

“Yes. I promise".

[icollectyoursins]

Jotaro Relationship Head Canons SFW

Because I’m a self indulgent little shit and just love to ignore all of the work I have to do, have some Jotaro head canons. I am but a humble simp, and love this man. So much.

Update as of writing this. Somehow, it got very angsty, so... yeah. Sad man vibes. Also rambly. I just kinda kept going.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: None, just angst, but nothing too serious.

Word Count: 2,985

Jotaro’s type is... I mean, it depends, like most people. I don’t think he’s super picky over appearances or things like that, it’s more whether or not he gets along with you and how long he can put up with you.  He’s polite (well, as polite as he can be) and courteous, but probably a little more apathetic when you’ve first met. Once you’ve been around for a while he’s more relaxed and almost a little more critical. Mostly because you’re his friend now and he expects more from his friends.

While I was writing this I sort of realized that he could be aromantic. Maybe it’s just my own aro tendencies coming through, but I thought it sort of lined up with his personality. Or at least from my experience with romantic attraction.

Eventually, though, he’ll admit he cares about you a little more than he cares about others. It comes through in little almost compliments. “You did good. Keep it up” or “good job, dealing with this” are common phrases that sound nice on the surface, but it almost feels like he’s trying to pressure you to do more, which is far from the truth.  

If it’s not awkward compliments like that, it’s awkward gifts. Always something you had briefly mentioned wanting or stared at a minute longer than you usually do, wrapped in a paper that’s your favourite colour or pattern. Sometimes, though, it’s something you’ve never mentioned that he somehow guessed would be something you wanted.

At the same time, though, he’s oblivious or at least acts like he is. There may be times when he goes home after you said something exceptionally sweet to him or that just means so much and he’ll just take a moment sitting at his desk to mull over what you said.

    With a grunt, Jotaro rolled back into the armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and today’s newspaper in the other, since he didn’t get to read it this morning. It’s late with the sun almost completely set, giving his room an orange hue. He tries reading the first column, something about a cat being saved from a sewer grate, but after about a minute, he catches himself drifting away, sort of staring blankly at the paper.

    He blinks hard, taking a long sip from his coffee. He must be tired. Another attempt is made at reading, this time the comics. They’re not his favourite thing, but short enough that he can focus on them. Or so he thought.

    He zones out again, face suddenly feeling very hot.

    He was thinking about you. Or, rather what you said.

    It was something so simple, so mundane.

    You had been talking about family together, exchanging drama, if you will, and he had brought up how his father had left his mother when he was very young. It didn’t bother him, he had said, after all, it was years ago and if he was being honest, he didn’t really need a father. Then, you gave him this look. It wasn’t pity or something like that. You put your hand on his knee, staring deep into his eyes.

    “Jotaro,” you said, voice soft and sweet. You struggled to say the next words, opening your mouth, sighing, then finally: “I’m not leaving you.”

    “Why would you be leaving?” He said, confused, taking it literally. Or, he pretended to be confused. It had made his heart warm with affection.

    What Jotaro hadn’t noticed at that moment was that his eyes seemed to gloss over with wet tears while talking about his father. He wasn’t over it, you understood that. How could he be? He was so young then, he probably didn’t understand what was happening or why and now that he’s a father himself, there had to be so much guilt about being the same way. It was only now that he was realizing how much you had an effect on him.

    It didn’t make him sad, by any means but... loved. He’ll say thank you tomorrow with a gift or some flowers. He hadn’t planned on meeting you for the rest of the week because he was busy, but work could wait, right? Yeah. Tomorrow.

God, it would take so long for him to get you to move in together. He’s so used to living on his own that I think he’s a little self-conscious about it. He’s not a slob by any means, but certainly a bachelor. I mean, he lived (assumedly) on his own from probably around or earlier than DiU right up until Stone Free, so it’s been a while and he’s certainly comfortable with his mess of clothes lying on the floor in the corner, but you won’t be. He cleans up before people come over, obviously, but how many times did he actually invite someone in?

When you start staying around more, he starts cleaning more, which makes him a little frustrated both coming to terms with liking someone enough that he’s actively cleaning for them once a week and also discovering that he’s a lot more gross than he thought. You would not believe how stained the counter was from coffee or how gross the filter was on the coffee maker. He takes his coffee very seriously. You begin to notice how clean everything is, well, how consistently clean everything is and it even starts to smell nicer, more floral and fresh. He bought a lavender air freshener. “It’s supposed to be calming,” he’ll say with a hint of annoyance. It’s not a bad smell to him, better than vanilla air fresheners, but it does give him a headache when he first sprays his place. You seem to like it though, so he’s willing to put up with it.

I honestly believe this man can cook, but nervous when cooking for other people. His food when he was a bachelor was good enough for him and I’m sure Holly would have shown him a lot too, but it’s not the best food. He definitely steps up his game when you’re over and even more so when you move in. He’s better with dishes that have pasta or noodles because it’s easy, but he’s not too bad behind the grill either.

When you guys finally live together, he tries to keep the cooking even, with you cooking some days and him doing the rest, but I honestly feel like unless you are a hazard in the kitchen, you would do most of it.

Jotaro would be like that with most things around the house partly because he doesn’t want you to do all the work if you don’t want to but he enjoys having a little more time to himself to either do work or... yeah, it’s just work. There are a few things that he’ll never make you do because it’s either too hard or he’s built up a routine of doing that thing a certain way and he’s convinced no one else will do it right. Like his laundry. He won’t let anyone else clean his clothes. He tried once and nothing dried right, he swears that his jacket is still damp to this day. You can fold his stuff or hang it up, but he’s running the washing machine and dryer. Also picky about how his office is cleaned.

If you asked and gave a legitimate reason for not doing a certain chore, he’ll do it, but be prepared with an excuse as to why you can’t wash the dishes or fold the laundry. He’s especially resistant if he’s working whether that be gathering information for the Speedwagon Foundation or editing his latest Marine Biology book.

Actually, can we just talk about how much this man hates folding laundry? It’s so pointless to him. Why fold it and put it into neat little piles when you’re just gonna rummage through the drawer and mess everything up? Sure, it looks nice, I guess, but not for long. He was for sure a floordrobe kind of guy, especially in his early years. He knows which ones are clean, it’s fine, just leave it. Of course, he would get better the longer you’re at his place, but still. It’s not that he’s lazy, he’s just busy and putting clothes away takes way too fucking long. (which, honestly, agreed.)

Date nights with Jotaro are... rare. I mean, you live with him, why would he want to go out and pay for something when he could do the same thing at home? They’re nice, of course, but it’s more common for him to take you out to dinner while you guys are on vacation or in a location other than home, because he doesn’t feel like cooking and it’s more special when you’re supposed to go out. Eventually, it clicks in that you are supposed to make each other feel special and will surprise you with an expensive dinner or a short cruise. If you suggest the aquarium he’ll think you’re just saying that because he’s into aquatic wildlife, but honestly doesn’t put up much of a fight and will answer any questions you or anyone else has about the fish.

He does enjoy a good relaxing movie (or documentary) night at home, though. It’s so nice to finally be finished work, settle into your super comfy couch and just chill until he gets tired. Even better when you’re lying on top of him with your head just under his chin. There’s something so soothing about smelling your perfume, shampoo, conditioner, cologne, etc. To just smell you so close to him and feel your weight. Aaah. So nice.

    The microwave beeps faintly from the kitchen signalling that popcorn was done. You trailed out soon after, tossing the bowl to mix around the butter. You smile sweetly at him, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Jotaro’s lips before settling into his lap, nestling your head just under his while stretching out your legs. His arm instinctively moves from the back of the couch to drape over your back, rubbing circles into it with his thumb.

    He sighs; relaxed, finally. He allows himself to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, just basking in your comfort. When he opens his eyes, he pulls you closer to him, feeling your heart beat almost in time with his. It was moments like these that eased his panic of losing you. You were here in his arms, safe and sound and vice versa. He was safe in yours.

Yeah, he’s a little angsty. But, can you blame him? He’s getting better, though. With help, of course. With you being around so often (and being very adamant that you’re not going anywhere) he’s able to let go a little. He’s not perfect, by a long shot and progress is slow, but it’s the little things like these that makes you proud of how far he’s come.

PDA is common, but a little restricted. When you’re out together, Jotaro’ll always have his hand on your back or shoulder. Hand-holding isn’t really a thing for him, but he will make sure you know he’s there. He’ll kiss you in public, but it’s not nearly as intimate or special as when you’re at home. Still, it’s a sweet reminder that he loves you, seeing as words of affection aren’t really his thing.

I mean, he can express himself just fine, but he still gets a little nervous saying things like ‘I love you.’ It’s more along the lines of ‘I care about you.’ Or, well. “of course, I care about you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Which... thanks. I think.

Kissing him is so nice, so you’re not too mad about him doing that instead of words. When Jotaro kisses you it’s full of a mix of emotions. Mostly caring, but on his rough days, there’s something else there. It could be worry or whatever the emotional equivalent of never letting you go is. You can always tell that he wants it to last a little bit longer. There’s something in the sad look in his eyes when he or you has to pull away. Sometimes he’s overly gentle like he’ll break you somehow, especially if you’re not a stand user or fighting-inclined (whether physical or otherwise). It’s not patronizing, or at least he tries not to be patronizing, he just prefers you safe.

    It started out simple enough. You and Jotaro were just sitting at the table, eating dinner when he got this... sinking sort of feeling. There was something in the silence between you that just sent his mind spiralling. Thoughts of you someday dying too soon for whatever reason or leaving him because he’s not there enough, stand users, car crashes, divorce. They all started to flood into his mind, fabricating that you would somehow be taken away from him.

    “Jotaro? Are you okay?” Your voice rings through; a bright light breaking the storm. He’s been staring at his plate for a while now, his eyes are dry and itchy. He looks at you and tries to say something, but the words don’t come. Is he okay?

    You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his face gently. You rub the dark circles under his eyes while kissing his forehead. Jotaro slowly wraps his arms around you, letting his face fall into your hands. You’re pulled into his lap after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair next. Finally, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

    “Thank you,” he mumbles and though you’re not quite sure why, you still say a quiet you’re welcome, silently soothing him through whatever happened.

If you couldn’t tell, he needs a lot of reassurance. Not so much words, but actions like the snippet above. I mean, he can be as strong as he wants but we all know he’s got some baggage and while he’s able to put it aside, for the most part, I think when you’re at home he’s just a little more vulnerable.

Now, onto happier things! If you like coffee or tea, he will always make you a cup in the morning. Jotaro is a very early riser except on the weekends, so he usually gets that done while reading or watching the news and when you come down, he’ll ask if you want breakfast then make it for you seeing as he’s more awake.

He loves coffee. So much. He might have a caffeine addiction, honestly. At all times of every day, you can see him with a black coffee in hand and a book or phone in the other. He will switch to decaf at some point, but you might have to switch it for him. He’s forgetful when he gets busy.

Sleeping in on the weekends is like heaven for him. The two nights (or more on holidays) that he gets a full nights rest, breakfast in bed and a warm soul to cuddle into. He’s usually big spoon with a hand just resting on your side, but please, for the love of god make him the little spoon once a week. Will never admit it or vocalize wanting it. He just grabs your hand and drapes it over him with a “good night” and then promptly passes out.

He’s a heavy sleeper but doesn’t sleep often. Once he’s out, there is nothing that could wake him up except the fire alarm or something like that. It just takes a while. Not because of trauma, but more just internal clock is delayed.

Not a bath guy, strictly showers ‘cause they’re quicker. Most of the time he’s in and out before you can invite him into yours. When you do he’s “reluctant” but showers with you are a favourite of his. He gets his hair washed for him (if he bends down), he can wash you. It’s great.

I don’t think he would want more kids. He’s getting older, busier and just doesn’t think he has the time to care for a baby, even with help. Plus, if they were anything like Joylne or god forbid him when he was younger, he might start greying sooner than he thought. Joylne is a great kid, but... she’s definitely got some of his defiance in him. One kid is fine.

He doesn’t really like pets either, hates when there’s fur on all the furniture. But, if you came home with a stray cat or two, he’s not gonna put up a fight if you say they’re not going to the pound. “Just as long as you take care of them yourself.”

You got him a betta fish once because Jotaro. Fish. Makes sense. He thought it was a little pointless at first. You can’t pet them or play fetch (not like he does those things anyway). All a fish does is sit there and look pretty. You were a little disappointed, but whatever, you’ll take care of it. Then he comes home one day with a 30-gallon tank, freshwater plants and fancy lighting to help them grow which he quietly sets up in the living room. He spent at least a half-hour deciding on where to put it.

A week later, after he’s pleased with how it looks and the tank has been cycled he puts in an order for more fish then lets your betta acclimate to the tank. “There, he’ll be happier in here. The idea of bettas not enjoying or panicking in larger tanks is a myth. He won’t be alone for long anyway. He also won’t kill everything in the tank.” Well, he hopes he won’t, each fish is different. Thankfully, the small school of tetras get along with your betta just fine. From then on, he’s in there once a week, cleaning everything, trimming the overgrowth. It is officially his tank.

[dadsbongos]

Rot

A/N: this is a crosspost from another website i used to be on just to have something posted till i can get my shit together, sorry for being so inactive lately :)

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Tomura Shigaraki/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: emotional manipulation, spoilers for tomura's backstory?, fem pronouns Summary: He doesn't want another sister. He doesn't want another sister. He swears. ~~~

"Go on, you can do it. Destroy her. Use your power and destroy her, Shigaraki, Tomura."

"You don't have to do that, you know," Tomura grumbled, watching as his foster sister carefully cleaned a cut on his knee, "It's just a scrape."

(Y/n) didn't bother listening to her younger brother, "Scrape or not, it could get infected. Already sucks I have to deal with you reeking and not showering, I'm not gonna let you get an infection too."

"I don't need you looking after me," the young boy's lips curled into a snarl; he pushed her away because he didn't need her. He didn't want to need another older sister. He didn't deserve another older sister.

"Sure you don't," she nodded, but continued with her delicate care on the boy's bony leg; she only pushed back harder.

"She's a weakness, Tomura. You can't have her around. She'll only drag you down."

"Hey."

Tomura jumped, tearing off his headphones and whipping around in his chair. Wide, red eyes staring at his older sister in his bedroom doorway, a furrow in her brows and clear disappointment on her face. He was supposed to be asleep five hours ago.

"I know the old man doesn't care when you go to bed, but I do," (Y/n) carefully took the headphones off her little brother and set them on his desk, "You need sleep or else you'll go crazy."

The boy huffed, turning off his computer and storming to his bed, "What if I'm already crazy?"

"Alright, buddy," the teenager assisted her eight-year-old brother into bed, "if I come back up here and you're not asleep I'll have to hurt ya, got it?"

Tomura rolled his eyes, grabbing at his blankets and pulling them over his tiny body, "Why don't you have to go sleep?"

"Are you kidding?" she squinted playfully at the little boy, "It's midnight, what kind of baby goes to bed at midnight?"

"You ass," he turned on his side, still staring up at the girl, "it's not fair... you're only six years older than me..."

"Six years is quite the difference," (Y/n) ruffled her brother's ratty tangles of hair before handing him a stuffed bunny, "Fixed him up for you."

A few seconds of hesitation before Tomura took the plush animal with a four-fingered grip, "I decayed him for a reason, you know."

"Master doesn't have to know," the older of the pair whispered, a tiny grin on her face, "I may or may not have used my Quirk without permission."

"You could get in trouble for that," the young boy murmured, though obviously distressed.

Her Quirk was on strict lockdown; only to be used when All for One said it would be used. If she disobeyed, she was isolated from her brother - from everyone - for days, maybe weeks. She wasn't even let out for food, it would be brought to her by Kurogiri's warp. No entertainment, no people, no light aside from the one window.

"Eh," she waved it off as though it wasn't torturing to live through, "it's worth it, I know how much you loved him."

A tiny, tired smile stretched over the thin, cracked lips of the boy, "Thank you..."

"Of course, little man."

"Don't be fooled. She's only trying to stop you, all she wants is to stop your goal."

"He... he did what?"

"One of us is clearly more affected by this than the other."

"Stop deflecting," Tomura seethed, restraining himself from crumbling the glass in his hand, "Why would you let him do that?"

(Y/n) shrugged, wiping down the bar counter with a cloth, "My Quirk is just gonna go back to you anyway. I never got to use it, so what's the point?"

"Do you understand the weight of what you've done?"

"Of course, I do," the woman shrugged, "I'm Quirkless but that doesn't mean I'm any less your sister. I gotta look out for you, if that means handing over Regeneration then fine."

"But..." he shook his head, as if his fumbling would provide room for an answer, "why? Why would you do that for me?"

"You're my little brother, I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"Go on, you can do it. Destroy her. Use your power and destroy her, Shigaraki, Tomura."

Tomura stood over his sleeping sister, the words from his master repeating in his head. He was to kill his sister. He was to kill his weakness; the girl that practically raised him was a poison and his Quirk was the antidote.

She was sleeping on the couch, as Himiko had recently taken up her room for some practice with her Quirk. A quilt hung over her body, one familiar from childhood. The siblings had shared it when they were little, it was slung over their shoulders on movie nights. On nights where Tomura would wake up in a cold sweat remembering the family he killed. By morning it didn't matter anymore, this hand-sewn blanket was there. (Y/n) was always there.

His fingers flexed and he took a step closer.

(Y/n) turned onto her other side, face now visible to her little brother. He stopped.

Her face hadn't changed all that much from when they first met. It was less chubby and more mature, obviously, but it could still be held to that eleven-year-old and he'd know. He'd know it was his older sister.

Tomura stared down at the face from his darkest times and reached out.

His hand hovered over her head for a few moments.

A weakness, for sure. If someone held her captive, he'd do anything to get her back to safety. But a weakness he would rather be dead than let die by his hand.

The outstretched hand quickly retracted. Tomura watched the woman peacefully sleep for a second more before turning around and walking up the stairs to his room. He wouldn't do it. He'd let the poison consume him before using the antidote to wipe it out.

He'd be in his grave before he let harm come to his sister.

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[theonewiththefanfics]

Give You Hell (one-shot)

Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic 

Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.

Word count: 3428

100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’

Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs.        They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.

       Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter.        He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two.        The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’.        Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call.        “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!”        Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.”        “You… are something else.”        She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?”        Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.”        “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?”        What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one.        “Only if it’s my treat.”        “But I was the one who asked you out.”        “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.”        Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?”        Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!”        Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach.        “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.”        Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that.        “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.”        That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.”        “I mean it kind of is.”        “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?”        “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?”        Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling.        “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink.        “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.”        The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes).        Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived.        “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.”        She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message.        Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?”        “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…”        She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?”        “You could say that, yeah.”        “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.”        Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.”        For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist.        “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.”        “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.”        At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.”        “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face.        “Swear it.”        “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.”        “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.”        “See ya’ in a bit.”        Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”

***

       The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her.        “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it.        “Thank you. For being here.”        Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.”        When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs.        As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting.        “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs.        “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.”        Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it.        “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.”        By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.”        She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it.        “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.”        As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face.        “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”        “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had.        Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest.        When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.”        “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!  When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.”        “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience.        “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!”        The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!”        “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe.        “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was.        “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him.        When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so.        “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”        “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.”        Yeah. It was one hell of a show.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS II | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Part 2! Read Part 1.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

After Hours - The Velvet Underground

Mr. Loverman - Ricky Montgomery

Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now - The Smiths

“Ramona . . .” you whine.

“I know . . . a mess.”

“I, uh,” you set your phone down, keeping Ramona’s voice on speaker. “I have to get out of this hotel, I have to get home.”

“[y/n], no.”

“No?”

“No.”

You begin changing out of your pajamas, your hands trembling as you slip on a pair of jeans. “Are you telling me I can’t go home right now? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Unless you wanna get swarmed by paparazzi, and risk leaving the hotel at the same time as him, you need to stay put.”

“This . . . this . . . is a mess. This is a huge mess, I — Ramona, I’m leaving.” You ramble, grabbing your things from the bedside dresser.

“[y/n] [y/l/n].” Ramona says, sternly. “You are my boss, but I have direct orders from your publicist to make sure you stay put. So, sit down, chill out, I’ll be there in five. And, honestly . . . you should have some wine.”

“Wha — wine? It’s seven in the morning.”

“Y’know what? You deserve it. Be there soon.”

She was already on the way when she hung up, and when she knocks on the door, you’re sat criss-cross on the bed, sipping a glass of wine. She’s right, you deserve it. You hold the fragile cup in your hand as you open the door, and she waltzes her way in.

“You calm now?” she asks.

“Medicated,” you shrug, holding the glass of wine up in the air.

“Perfect . . . so, were you ever going to tell anyone that you used to date Matthew Gray Gubler?”

You scoff, wander through the hotel room, “I didn’t date Matthew Gubler,” you take a seat on the bed.

“Okay, were you going to mention that you used to fuck Matthew Gray Gubler?” She crosses her arms.

“I . . .” you stutter, go silent in response.

“Oh, God,” she groans.

“It was a long, long time ago! It’s no one’s business, and there’s hardly any proof that it’s anything but a rumor.”

“No proof? —“ She shakes her head, pulling her iPad from her bag. As she clicks a few buttons, she adds, “Did you not see what people were saying? . . . The pictures?”

“Pictures?” You gasp, setting you glass down. “What pictures?”

Ramona sighs, and hands the iPad over to you, avoiding eye contact. You slowly take the device from her hands, and let out a shaky breath.

“The first two were posted a, um, John Hearse on twitter . . .” she explains.

“I mean, if you and Gube just . . . I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”

Ramona’s words start to fade, to rescind to dust and ash, as you absorb the image in front of you. It’s old . . . and slightly blurry, but you recognize every face. John, Steve, Matthew . . . and you, sat in his lap, head on his shoulder with a huge, bright smile on your face. Matthew had his hand on your waist, practically gripping your shirt in his hand, keeping you close. The next picture, he was making you laugh, all three of you, as you looked, lovingly, into his eyes.

They were posted in response to a final picture, of you and Matthew reuniting. You looking, literally, like an idiot, in the daze of seeing him and recieving a hug. Some professional photographer had captured the whole thing.

John’s pictures are captioned: Whoaaa glad to see these two back together!

“They used to be, heh,” you chuckle dryly to yourself as you read the tweet outloud. “Inseparable, wow. Remind me to call John up later and yell at him until he cries.”

“Wh — what happened between you two?”

“Me and John? Nothing much, we were good friends,” you shrug.

“No — [y/n], c’mon . . .” Ramona groans.

“It would take,” you sigh. “So much time, and so much energy for me to tell that story right now. I don’t have it in me, Ramona, I just . . . I just want to go home.”

“The place is surrounded by paparazzi, they’re harassing every celebrity that leaves the building, and I’m pretty sure your high on their watchlist right now.”

“Yeah, I’ve mastered the art of ignoring them, I’ll be fine, just call me a ride, please,” you grumble, setting the iPad down and rising to your feet.

She sighs, giving in, giving up, “There’s one waiting for you out front.”

“Thank you,” you nod.

Your belongings are removed from the room first, carried down by an accommodating bellhop. Ramona followed you down to the lobby, trailing you, like she always did. But keeping a closer eye on you than usual. You stopped in front of the revolving door, lips pursed in a look of annoyance as you came face to face with the hoard of paparazzi.

They noticed you through the glass before you had the chance to take a breath, and if you stood still for too long, you feared it would show as weakness, a reason to be suspicious. So, you held your head up tall, took in a deep breath, and stepped into the spotlight.

You’ve mastered the look of constantly-tired-business-woman-chic. Today, you’re running off a cup of coffee, and as always, throw on jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Comfortable shoes, because those heels destroyed your feet last night.

It’s a short walk to the car, but a million and one pictures are taken of you. You smile, respectfully, do a little wave. Don’t want to look too bitter. You drown out the questions, drown out the comments, because you swear if you hear his name, you’ll roll your eyes.

Ramona gets into the car after you, and closes the door. You let out a long sigh, and sulk in your seat. “This sucks,” you mumble, the car staring the ten minute drive to your home.

“Okay, [y/n] Gubler,” she replies.

“Hey!” You sit up. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she whines. “I knew something was off last night. I could’ve helped you avoid him, I could’ve gotten his car towed, I could’ve sent him the wrong address. You just have to communicate.”

“That is . . . unprofessional, and Matthew Gubler is, apparently, very professional. And he . . .” you trail off.

“He . . ? What?”

“He, donated a very healthy amount of money to the program, which, has nothing to do with me, by the way. None of it has anything to do with me, he’s just . . . professional.” You roll your eyes.

“What the hell happened between you two?” Ramona asks, noticing your shift in tone.

“Ooh, damn!” You ignore her, looking out the window. “We should’ve stopped and grabbed donuts.”

“Fine,” she surrenders.

You were surprised to find no paparazzi surrounding your penthouse building. Ramona had packed away all your belongings, and sent someone inside to place them in your apartment.

“Stay off social media,” she tells you before you leave. “Okay? No posting.”

“Silent stalking, only. Got it.”

You hold your phone in your hand as you walk into the building, ride the elevator up to the fifth floor. It’s quiet, and it’s what you need right now. To be home alone, with your thoughts.

You crash onto the couch, face first, and groan as you roll over. Last night should’ve been joyous, and fun, and it was. But, it was supposed to be the end. It was supposed to bring peace, knowing that everything you worked for, payed off and went out with a bang.

But, because of him, and John, and these stupid pictures, it’s far from the end. A whole new storm has started, and it’s making you nauseous.

Yet, you can’t keep yourself offline. You spend hours scrolling through tweet upon tweet, instagram post after instagram post, and each and every comment is as gut wrenching as the last. The internet’s made up it’s mind, and you and Matthew Gubler are the perfect couple. You fit together, you look right together, you have history together.

A history that was better left buried.

Because, when it comes up, when you think about, and you think about that one decision that could’ve changed everything . . . you crack. You spiral. You can’t shake it for days. Weeks. You think about him, and what you could’ve been.

It’s a hurricane, and it sweeps you up everytime, even when you know it’s coming.

There’s a knock at the door, and your heart drops. It’s naive, and childish to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s him. Coming to apologize for being a dick. But the idea of it has you racing to the door, and flinging it open before you can think about it.

“Hey, Aunt [y/n]!”

“Hey,” Claire smiles. “We brought donuts.”

This is better.

The seven year old held onto your hand as you guided her and her mother in your apartment. “Oh, my goodness,” you beamed to Dorthy, earning a bright smile from her. “Is Roni with you?” You turned to ask Claire.

“She had to help her mother with something today, but I told her that I had to help you through a serious crisis.”

“Ah,” you nod. “You’ve been online, huh?”

You take a seat with Dorothea on the couch, turn on the TV. “Wanna pick something to watch?” You smile, and she nods happily, taking the remote from you.

You join Claire in the kitchen, and she hands you a cookies and cream donut. You hum happily as you take it from her, take a seat on the counter, “God, thank you.”

She nods, “Yes, I’ve been online. I’ve been tracking everything about you and your big, big night,” she chuckles. “So I was ready to run over here when I saw those pictures going around.”

“You saw them?” You gasp, horrified, with the donut hanging from your mouth.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t remember when they were taken, though?”

“Vegas, 2001,” you tell her. “You didn’t — you didn’t come with us.”

She sighs, tilts her head at you, “[y/n] . . .”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you nod, reassuringly. “I’m not going down a Matthew rabbit hole. Not right now. Y’know why? Because he is an ass, he’s rude, and disrespectful, and stirs shit up for no reason, and —“

“Whoa!” Claire exclaims. “Did I enter a time portal to 1999 or something?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you roll your eyes.

“[y/n], you knew seeing Matthew was a possibility last night, and that it would bring back all these emotions, and you swore you could handle it —“

“I did handle it! I handled it very, very well. He’s the one who lost his cool. You should’ve heard him, Claire,” you ramble. “Nothing I did tonight has anything to do with you? I’m a professional? I didn’t do it to cushion your feelings? He’s a dick! He — he threw everything in my face the minute he could, and now my name is connected to his, our history is out there for everyone to see, and . . . he probably fucking hates me,” you laugh.

You laugh.

It’s a dry laugh, a sad laugh.

Claire frowns, and steps over to you, putting her arm around your shoulders.

“He hates me,” you say. “And he probably has every reason to. But I can handle it. I can handle the emotions, I’ve handled them for a long time,” you look at her. “And it’s not my fault if he can’t do the same, right?”

Claire sighs, pushes your hair back, “No.” She shakes her head. “No, you’ve moved on. You should want him to do the same thing, and not cause anymore hurt. You deserve that.”

“Mom! Aunt [y/n]!” Dorthy calls from the couch. Her head pops up, and she grins at you two. “Best and Ballet is on!”

“Ooh, what show is that?” You chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Hey,” Claire calls, grabbing onto your arm before you can walk into the living room. “It’s like everything else in show business, right? People will talk for a few days, maybe a week, right? And then it’ll fade. It’ll pass.”

You give her a nod, let her know that you hear her, and that you’re going to push through this. Because you have no choice. Because above being a celebrity, a figurehead, a boss, a producer . . . you’re a teacher. A damn good one, and the last person who’s going to change that is Matthew Gubler.

You pack him away. The idea of him. Tie him off with a neat, little bow.

Because the show must go on.

“Rolling!”

You walk across the studio, behind the cameras, watching your students on screen. “Can you get a wide shot? You’re not getting the best lighting, nor every student in one shot.” You say to the cinematographer.

“[y/n],” the director calls. “We film from this angle every episode. Why change it?”

“Because every episode, some of my best dancers are cut from the shot beside of sloppy angles and the light from the windows blinds the mirrors the cameras?”

“Those are things out of our control.”

“Oh, yeah?” you turn to him. “You wanna tell that to someone who didn’t go to film school? . . . Twice?”

He gulps, motions to the cinematographer, “Change the shot.”

You grin, order the camera woman to make the correct adjustments, “See?” You beam. “No glare.”

You walk off, Ramona trailing behind you, giving the director a pitiful smile. Once you’re away from the cameras, and the studio, you grumble, “Remind me to never be talked into hiring a male director again.

“You’re turning into Medusa.”

“What?” You look at her, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What? You’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy? Medusa? Turns people into stone? A . . . bitch?”

“Actual Medusa was not a bitch, she was cursed by a man.”

“Okay, fair, you were cursed by a man —“

“Dooooon’t!” You roll your eyes. “I’m not Medusa, I’m very nice.”

“You’re nice to me, and to your students, and the nice ladies that do your hair and makeup. Everyone else, stone.”

“Stop.”

“I wish you would tell me what happened,” she groans. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone! I’m just, worried about you, and a little nosey.”

“Ramona . . . it’s been how long since that weekend?”

“Well, well,” she stutters. “Only a week.”

“A week is a long time, I’ve moved on. I’ve avoided any and all questions on the subject, from everyone. I’ve been actively dodging it on social media. I’m doing well.”

She nods.

“Now,” you continue to walk down the hall. “I have a talk show interview tonight? What time do I have to be there?”

You stop when you realize Ramona isn’t following you. You turn around, and she stuck in her spot.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Can’t move. Been turned to stone.”

You hated the Medusa comparison wholeheartedly. But, right now, you just want to yell at whoever booked you for a late night talk show. You’re tired after a long day of work, and you’re cranky, and crabby, and maybe, just maybe . . . the comparison isn’t too far off right now.

You’re charming, sure. Let’s go with that. But now, it’s all starting to dawn on you. Here, in this dressing room that’s lit up like a christmas tree. Revealing every ounce of exhaustion in your face, in your eyes. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, and you’re placed in an elegant, black dress that stops just above your knees. Black heels cover your feet, and your hair and makeup were done half an hour ago.

You have to figure it out. You test different ones out in the mirror. Different smiles. You have to nail the I-have-to-talk-about-myself-for-an-hour-and-laugh smile. The happy, glowing, kind smile. You think you have it when there’s a knock on the door.

You keep the smile on, don’t want to lose it. You call Ramona in, and she looks at you, curiously. “You okay?”

“Yep,” you nod, brightening your smile. “Show time?”

“Are — are you having a stroke?”

“Okay, I’m trying to put on my interview face here, you’re not helping.”

“Sorry, sorry, you look great!” You smiles.

“Ramona,” you whisper, stepping close to her. “There’s a good chance they’re gonna ask me about him, right?”

She takes a breath in, prepared to answer, but no words come out. Your eyes are wide, innocent, hopeful. And she hates to lie to you.

“Yes . . .” is all she can say. “There is a, very, very good chance they will ask you about him.”

You sigh, duck your head. And when you pick it back up, your smile is on. “Okay, let’s go.” You step out into the hallway, Ramona closing the door behind you.

It was a time portal. The door. The hallway.

Matthew’s eyes land on you at the same time you see him, and you both freeze. Ramona bites at her nails, anxiously eyeing the two of you.

You feel your body, your soul, revert. Regress in every way to embody the spirit of you, at age 18, about 18 years ago.

You scoff, meaning your next words with every fiber of your being, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

@calm-and-doctor

@spencerreid-mgg

@reidsconverse

@sizzlingclamturtlesludge

[nctsworld]

no filters (just you)

✩ johnny x reader | pining | fluff | photographer au | 1.7k 

→ summary: in which you finally steal a peek at your best friend’s camera gallery and are surprised to find countless photos of you throughout it all.   → warnings: some drinking, few swear words, kissing

→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

The bustling of the joyous occasion surrounds you. String lights glow under the summer night sky. They encompass the white linen tables topped with delicate flowers and ornaments, alongside all the dressed up people dancing, sitting, laughing, and overall having a great time. 

You’re one of the people sitting at a table, indulging yourself with a glass of champagne in one hand. However, you aren’t alone. Johnny, your best friend, is the photographer for the wedding and was allowed to bring a guest. Not much persuasion was needed when free food and drinks were involved. 

Taking a sip of your drink, you watch your towering friend finish taking a picture of people on the dance floor before he heads straight towards you. His camera sways lightly with his cool walk and when he finally reaches you, he feigns an exhausted sigh and sinks into the chair next to you.

“Man, photography just takes so much out of me,” he shakes his head while loosening his tie. 

“Does it really, though?” you cock an eyebrow, then flash him your signature smile. He reflects your expression, grabs your glass, and takes a sip. Actually, more than a sip, since he finishes all the bubbly without hesitation.

“I thought you don’t drink on the job.” 

Setting the thin vessel down, he shakes his head defensively, “I never said that. I said I don’t get drunk on the job. There’s a difference.” 

You snatch your empty glass back and begin to refill it as Johnny carefully removes the camera strap from his body prior to gently placing the camera on the table. He leaves a hand on it, giving him a sense of security over his prized possession (and because it’s the reason why he’s getting paid tonight). 

Johnny looks back and forth between the floor and the table when he says, “Sorry I couldn’t really be with you tonight.”

In the midst of a sip, you immediately refute his apology. “No, don’t apologize, Johnny. You’re working, and you know I can’t complain.” You gesture towards all the food and drinks. 

“But...” you play with the stem of the glass. “Can I at least see some of the pictures?” 

“No, you cannot,” he quickly answers, shutting you down like he usually does. You pout. 

“You know I couldn’t give two shits if you take pictures of naked girls in your spare time, right?” Sarcasm oozes from your accusation, but anyone walking by and hearing it wouldn’t know otherwise. 

“Oh, my God,” he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head from your lack of shame. You notice his cheeks start to colour, but you’re unsure if that’s from the drink or embarrassment. 

“Firstly, all the pictures of the naked girls I take are on my other camera,” he begins to count on his fingers, responding against your banter. “And secondly, I’m working on a secret photography project. Once I’m done, then you can see it.” 

“You promise?” you hold your pinky out. 

He chuckles. “I promise.” 

His pinky finger curls around yours, then both of you angle your hand a bit upward to have your thumbs touch. After the promise is sealed, the two of you have some fun on the dance floor until midnight rolls around and guests trickle more and more away. Johnny deals with the last bit of his job before he begins to drive you home. 

You relax into the passenger seat, looking at all the things that pass by in the middle of the night. Johnny’s music softly plays in the background and almost lulls you to sleep until he mentions he has to stop for gas. 

“I’m gonna pick up some snacks. Do you want any?”

A few come to mind, so you list them for him to pick up on your behalf. He smiles, jokingly tells you not to go anywhere, and heads into the gas station’s convenience store as he’s done filling his tank. While you watch him make his way towards the store, a lightbulb goes off in your head. Without thinking, your hand reaches in the back seat of his car and grasps onto his camera; you couldn’t help but jump at the chance to rummage through his camera gallery. 

The camera’s screen glares at you in the darkness of the car. It’s a bit painful, but you persist and smile back at all the people enjoying themselves in the wedding photos. 

Whenever you see Johnny’s shots, they never fail to amaze you. He has the ability to capture a moment in its purest essence. If a picture is worth a thousand words, Johnny’s pictures were worth double.

Suddenly, you notice a photo of yourself sitting at the table, glancing off to one side. You think to yourself that Johnny caught you in such a picture-perfect moment, he probably couldn’t help himself. 

You scroll further through the wedding photos, but realization gradually dawns on you when you notice that there are more photos of you than there should be at an event that wasn’t even your own. 

Hastily, you go to the master gallery page to view several photos at once. The camera almost drops from your hands as your fingers fumble with the back button to view photos that date back from weeks and months ago at mutual friends’ gatherings. 

Earlier in the summer for Taeyong’s birthday, you see glimpses of you in various shots. Laughing, smiling, wincing. You didn’t even know you had such facial expressions. 

There’s shots of your back peering at a sunset, looking off the balcony of Taeil’s new apartment from his housewarming.

Before then, there’s shots of you at a dinner party celebrating Mark’s promotion at work. 

Johnny’s taken so many photos of you without you ever knowing. How did you not realize? 

You hold the camera’s screen close to your body for a second, wondering if you’re simply Johnny’s artistic muse for a mere project or if there is something actually more to all this. 

Did Johnny really see you as more than friends? 

Did he view you the way you silently yearn for him, or did he only like you through a camera lens?

Turning your head, you see Johnny strolling out of the store with snacks in his arms. Faster than the speed of light, you ensure the camera roll is back to the last wedding photo taken and almost throw it against the back seat. You seethe, knowing Johnny would kill you if he knew you did that, but you maintain composure. You pull your phone out, playing cool just in time as he opens the door. 

During the rest of the ride, you try your hardest to pretend nothing’s wrong. Even when silent, Johnny’s known you long enough to know something’s off. He doesn’t say anything until he pulls up in front of your place. When he does, the suited figure turns off the engine, but leaves the music playing still. 

“Hey,” he whispers your name in the night air. It’s tender, but worrisome. Not a common thing you hear from him. “You okay?” 

You lie, barely nodding, and glance down with a slight grip on the snacks he bought you. The crinkle of the bags are a loud intrusion to the background music and silent air. 

“I…” You’re searching for what to say, deciding if you should continue to lie or not. 

“I may have went through your camera.” The truth croaks out of you, and you’re shaking your head because on top of your confusion, you’re feeling waves of guilt from intruding your best friend’s privacy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” 

From your peripheral vision, you catch Johnny’s hand grip a little tighter on the steering wheel, then his grip relaxes and he rubs his thumb delicately against it. 

“Can I just say,” he speaks after a few passing moments that feel like eternity, into the tension still present in the air. “I’m not a stalker or creeper, I swear.” 

A beat passes. 

You cut the thick tension with a small laugh. He follows and begins to laugh along with you.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” you sarcastically add and look over at him. 

“Hey, you know I need to cover my grounds. I don’t need my best friend suing my ass.” 

Hearing the term “best friend” lingers and sits with both of you strangely in the air.

“Do you…” you begin to ask the question that may hurt the most, so you elect to ask a less loaded question. “Are you actually doing a photography project using my pictures?” 

He nods with the dim street light shining on him. He’s tired, you can tell, and you feel more guilt for keeping him up any longer than you should. Despite his wariness, Johnny still looks gorgeous, especially with the perfect lighting. Sometimes, he jokes that life is a runway for him, but in this moment, you begin to understand and agree with him. 

“Yeah, it’s a project on something that I consider beautiful,” Johnny glances over to you as the last word rolls off his tongue, and you’re smiling softly at his compliment. “I’m supposed to present it later this week. I was going to figure out a way to break it to you afterwards.” 

Hearing Johnny call you beautiful has your heart fluttering. You just want to jump out of the car, squeal so much that the neighbours would wake up, then you would run into your home and call it a night.

Instead, your body takes control and courage courses through your veins when you reach for the end of his tie. You daintily roll the tip of it between your fingers and let the haunting question free, ready for whatever follows.   

“Do you like me? As more than a friend?” 

You’re suddenly conscious of how hard you’re breathing and your heart flutters become hard knocks against your chest. Johnny’s face is now a few inches away from yours. At this point, you’re unsure if you’re playing with his tie out of nervousness or desiring for something more, or perhaps both. Your eyes attempt to lock with his and you note how he’s breathing just as hard as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Johnny this nervous before. 

“Yeah,” he exhales with a nod. You smell a small hint of the champagne scent against your face from his breath, along with the scent of his faded cologne. Johnny finally manages to match your gaze. “Do you?” 

Without a word, you answer his question by practically yanking his tie closer to you, meeting his lips with yours. 

The night ends with you two kissing breathlessly in the backseat until hues of orange and yellow begin to stain the horizon. 

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog​ and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head. 

  “Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching. 

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. 

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it. 

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged. 

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself. 

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features. 

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither. 

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person. 

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”. 

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals. 

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower. 

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear. 

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all. 

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully. 

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do. 

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror. 

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly. 

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection. 

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed. 

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones. 

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people. 

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…” 

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down. 

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused. 

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this. 

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure. 

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side. 

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake. 

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”. 

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it. 

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile. 

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry. 

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”. 

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest. 

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe. 

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips. 

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago. 

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone. 

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that? 

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation. 

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply. 

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”. 

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada. 

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about. 

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit. 

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings. 

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark  in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you. 

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy. 

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

previous || m.list || playlist || next

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Heuj valves, you know what I'm here for, go on. Make us a story dolly >:)

-cursed

Okay, in case you guys haven’t been around for like, the past day or two, let me explain. This is involving Bill Sykes, the villain of the movie ‘Oliver and Company’. Cursed came out of nowhere, showed me this man, and he has LITERALLY kept me up all night last night. I’m tired, majorly horny, and I hate this big, BIG man so much. Let’s go. (Also side note first attempt writing him, I'm trying)

Money. Money was a thing that made the world go round. It was something everyone wanted, something everyone would fight tooth and nail to get. Some people had nothing, and some had far too much. Like Sykes. Sykes had so much money, through brute force, through cunning, through anything and everything unsavory. And with so much money, came with the ability to have SO much power, of which he abused. If he wasn’t taunting people with how much money he had, he was luring more people in with his classic charm. As evil as he was, no one really seemed to see it at the beginning. They saw an older, rather likeable man. It was why no one blinked twice when he walked into the clothes store. If anything, he was welcomed, especially by the man behind the counter.

“Mr.Sykes! Just on time! Ever the punctual man! I got your new suit in!”

“Good, good. You’re one of the few in this city that DOESN’T disappoint me.”

“I should hope not, you’re my best customer! Speaking of, can I be daring enough to offer you a new set of shoes?”

“Wasn’t looking for a new pair, but what the hell.”

Sykes let him be walked to the counter. He JUST so happened to be on the counter next to some lady. Pretty thing, honestly. She somehow didn’t notice him, and pushed a handbag across the counter.

“Hey, I didn’t see a tag on this. Can you check it for me?”

This lady didn’t belong here. This was a real ‘if you had to ask, you can’t afford it’ kinda place. The guy behind the counter gave her a look, before glancing at the bag.

“Twenty nine fifty, miss.”

“Only thirty bucks? Okay-”

She went to dig into her current purse, before he cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, no. I’m saying it's two thousand, nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Ah. So when do I get the bull?”

“Pardon?”

“The bull. The one who's giving me this fresh batch of shit."

Sykes had to give her one thing, she had a mouth on her. Sykes sensed a fight, and decided to turn that into his favor.

“Hey, let me pay for the lady here.”

She looked at him, seeming to just now notice his presence. She was reasonably suspicious, and seemed to almost snarl at him.

“I don’t do freebies.”

“Not a freebie. Just thought a pretty lady should have pretty things. If you don’t want it, fine, won’t push it. Really, it’s on me.”

She hesitated, before seeming to put her guard down, pushing the purse back across the counter. He chuckled, swiping his card. This is how you brought the pretty ones in. Buy them something nice and shiny, show them you were a sweet guy. He grabbed his things, and stepped outside with her. She was staring at her purse in fascination, before turning to look at him.

“Thanks a bunch, by the way. Didn’t catch your name.”

“Sykes. Bill Sykes.”

He held his hand out to her, and she accepted the handshake. He took the chance to give her another look over, and realized; yeah. She was worth trapping. He threw his stuff into the car, before turning to look in her direction.

“You have plans for lunch?”

“No, why?”

“Feelin’ generous today. Assuming you can spare me some company.”

She looked hesitant, studying him and his ride. If he wasn’t rich, it would’ve been ‘hell no’. But she was, like many, allured by his obvious, flagrant weath.

“I mean...yeah, sure. Why not?”

Little did she know, she was digging the hole deeper and deeper.

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

It had gotten WAY later into the night than he planned. He had meant to only spare an hour or so, but he found himself taking well into sunset. By the time they left the place, she was hooked, lined, and sinker, laughing and holding onto his arm as they walked back to his car. He opened the passenger side door for her, motioning for her to hop in.

“You want a ride back to your place? You DID have a bit to drink.”

She nodded, getting inside, practically giddy.

“Yeah, I can tell you how to get there, I think.”

“Good, good.”

He shut the door after her, and hopped in himself. He put on his seatbelt, and lit up a cigar. He hadn’t had a good smoke all day, and it felt good to finally get one in. He let her guide him to her house, and made a mental note of just where she lived. The drive was but a simple action, but it was a clever, discreet way of knowing just where to find her. He stopped right in front of her place, put the car in park, and exhaled the smoke into the car’s interior.

“You know, you put me in a real, real good mood. How about I do the same for you?”

She looked at him, confused, before he pulled out his wallet, and brought out a good chunk of cash. THAT sobered her up. Her first instinct was to clearly reach for it, but she stopped herself.

"What...is this for?"

"Spending money. Something for you to play around with, invest in stuff, whatever ya want."

"That’s...lots of money. A...LOT of money. You just carry that with you? You don’t think you’ll get mugged or something?”

“That doesn’t happen. Trust me on that.”

He chuckled. There were attempts, MANY attempts in fact, but...well. Didn’t end well, let’s keep it at that. She looked down at the stack, and he knew she was so close to being in his web. Just one movement of the hand. One moment of indulgence. And she fell for it. She took it from his hand, and counted it in her hand. The more she counted, the more lost she seemed to get, clearly in disbelief.

“Twenty five...t-thousand. That’s seriously how much this is?”

“Right on the dot. Now go on, get outta here. Sure I’ll bump into ya again, Doll.”

When she helped herself out of the car, he chuckled, and pulled out of the driveway. Soon enough made it home, where Roscoe and Desoto looked up at him, clearly wondering where he had been. It WAS a bit past their usual treat time. Fishing some out of his pockets, he tossed them towards his eagerly awaiting pups. He sighed as he sat down at his chair, leaning back a bit, and blowing rolls of smoke into the air.

“You boys ain’t gonna believe today’s catch. A real cute thing, you have no idea. Imma give her the usual week. Desoto.”

He snapped his fingers, and the mutt obeyed promptly, getting out of bed and sitting at his side. He allowed Sykes to run his big, firm hands through his fur, and thumbs rubbing at the tips of his ears. His master seemed VERY pleased by his new catch today, he almost never got special pets like this.

“You guys are gonna love her. Because If I don’t get a bite out of her, you two will.”

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

He waited in his car, headlights off as he awaited her to return from work. He decided to take all this time to get back to some calls, rather than just sit here with his thumbs up his ass. 

“No. No. Swear to god ya bunch of morons- no. Take the teeth out BEFORE ya dump him. So what if he screams? Well ya in the warehouse right? Aight, ya gonna be fine then.”

His associate kept talking on the other line, but Sykes didn’t listen. He was too distracted by his hounds in the back, who were now fully sitting up and looking out the window. His dogs were a pain, but at least they were smart.

“Yeah listen, imma call ya back. Figure it out.”

He then saw her. She was even carrying the same purse he bought her. He waited till she went to her front door, before turning on the headlights, nearly blinding the poor thing. He stepped out of the car, hands out as if he was being welcoming.

“Aye, there ya are doll! Been a while!”

She seemed confused for a minute, but as he stepped closer, it clicked.

“Sykes, right?”

“Yeah, knew ya wouldn’t forget me. I didn’t forget ya in the slightest.”

He walked up to her, and leaned against the door, pinning her between a rock and a hard place. She shrunk a bit, before looking down at the floor. She had dropped her keys. Just before she could make the motion to reach for them, he covered it with the bottom of his shoe. He leaned down, blowing plumes of smoke into her face, making tears swell in her eyes.

“So, where’s my payment?”

“Payment?”

Of course she was confused. They always were. As if money was free in this world. He let the cigar roll in his mouth, before nodding.

“Yeah, my payment. You took a loan from me, doll. I need it back.”

“I didn’t know that was a loan! You didn’t say-”

“Little girl, nothing in this world is free, money included. Now, where is it? If you got it upstairs, I’ll go with ya to get it.”

Her little eyes looked so frantic under his gaze. He just needed to hear those words. Words that from any other mouth, would make him a very unhappy man.

“I...don’t have that kinda money.”

That was all he needed. He grabbed her by her arm, and yanked her to follow. She would’ve made a dash for her keys, had Roscoe not nipped at her heel, forcing her to back away. Turns out two barking dogs made for quite the deterrent. Sure, she struggled, screaming as his hand slapped over her mouth, but that didn’t matter. He managed to pull her away, and nearly threw her into the car. Desoto was a good boy, using those big, pearly whites to keep her there in pure fear.

“Roscoe, fetch.”

Roscoe went for the door, grabbed the keys, and placed them into his master’s hand.

“Good boy. Now get in.”

He waited till his other pup jumped into the back, before he went to the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. He adjusted his rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of her scared little eyes. Yep. She was already worth every penny.

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

“Don’t look at me like I’m a bad guy, sweetheart. You understand, ain’t nothing free. I fancy myself a good guy, but not good enough to just hand out money like that.”

Roscoe and Desoto circled her like vultures. She didn't even NEED to be tied up like this, he just liked the assurance, and the view. Like a little doe, she was still, powerless, and scared.

"I didn't know-"

"What you don't know, CAN kill you. I'm sorry, I know it ain't fair. But life is like that. Fortunately for you, I'm a very compassionate man. We can discuss methods of payment. Any family money?"

She shook her head, seeming to be a BIT distracted by Roscoe's sharp teeth. He gave a sharp inhale, shaking his head.

"Clearly YOU don't have the money, right? No 'under the sofa' cash?"

Another shake of her head. His fingers tapped against his table, shaking his head in clear disappointment. 

"Oh. I REALLY don't like your options now, Doll. Ya got two choices."

She squirmed a bit, stiffening as Desoto's teeth bared against her. He lifted his hands up a bit, and snapped his fingers. Roscoe followed the command, and dashed right for her, barking and frothing at the mouth. The weight of his body sent her falling, with the chair slamming onto the floor. He pinned her down, barking and covering her face in drool, teeth BARELY missing her own skin. 

Oh how she screamed. How she begged for mercy. How her legs thrashed as she tried in vain to get away. He let her sit there until he was certain there were tears in her eyes. Then he stood up, and slowly walked over to her, heavy footsteps clanking against the hard floor below them. He snapped his fingers, and Roscoe heeled, taking a seat next to his fellow fido. He squatted down to her level, blowing smoke into her already irritated face. He liked crybabies.

"That's option one. I'm assuming you don't want that."

She shook her head, sniffing. He rolled the cigar in his lips, before he lifted her face up with his hand, and pushed her chin down, forcing her mouth to open.

"Option two. You could provide me with a few...services. Then we can forget ALL about the pesky little debt you have with me. You're a pretty little thing, I'd be willing to let you work it off. I mean, you'd survive If I bit you, rather than my boys here. Not to mention if you're sweet 'nuff, I'll un do those pesky ropes of yours."

She clearly thought about it, but her mind was foggy, her eyes hurt, even her lungs felt sore from the second hand smoke. But, just as he suspected, she nodded. A huge grin came over his face, and he held onto the chair, pulling her off the floor.

"Alright sweetheart, let's EARN your freedom here. Open that pretty mouth for me."

He held onto her face as he pulled in, pushing that thick, rich smoke right into her mouth. All while his tongue slid into her mouth, grazing against hers. He took his time, getting a good, firm kiss out of her. He only pulled away when he needed to breathe. She needed it too, starting to fall into a coughing fit. It was cute. He put out his cigar on the ashtray, letting it sit there.

"Mm. You taste good. Damn good."

He undid his belt buckle, and whipped himself out. He turned her face at him, but with a bit of a...heavy hand, he pressed his cock against her face.

It was precious, watching such an innocent face under his thick cock. She whined a bit as he pushed her face into him, nearly smothering her with not only his dick, but his hairy, hairy balls.

"Open up for me Doll, nice and sweet. And don't you bite me. You'll regret it, trust me."

This time she seemed fairly willing, opening her mouth with not much more than a wince. He grabbed onto that pretty, pretty hair of hers, and pulled, really shoving her onto him.

"Oh that's the ticket, honey. Right there. Can feel that little tongue of yours."

He pushed himself fully, and held himself there, till he felt her gag, just like a good girl. He pulled away, watching her pant, lips covered in her own drool, and chest heaving. She was about to speak, before he shoved his balls right into her mouth, head tossed back in content. When was the last time he had his balls sucked by a cute, willing (somewhat anyway) little thing like her? He kept his fat, firm fingers in between her hair, really making a mess of it. Beautiful, poised girls were all swell, but cute, messy girls were such fun playthings. He granted her a bit of mercy, pulling away, while still pumping his cock.

"Mmm. You're a good little girl, ain't ya? Pretty too. I was gonna really put you through the ringer, but you're too damn precious NOT to be opened."

Not needing any scissors, he yanked at the ropes, making them snap under the force of his grip. He lifted her off of the seat, putting her on his desk, and using his big, strong hands to part those nice looking legs of hers. She was clearly hesitant, being felt up by essentially a stranger, but he didn’t care. Long as she didn't fight him, he could give less of a damn. He tore off her skirt, and took a gander of her panties. It was hot, knowing those lacey undergarments were paid for by HIM.

"Cute set here, Doll. Real, real cute stuff."

He took a hold of her ass, and pulled her closer to him, pressing himself right against that nice, cute fabric. With his free hand, he tugged at her shirt. Just because he was hungry, didn't mean he couldn't be a bit refined.

"Shirt, bra, off. Case you wanna keep your outfit in one piece."

He saw her hands tremble, as if she was confused. He gave another tug, and she seemed to finally get the hint, pulling her clothes off. She was worth the wait, honestly. Hell, he was so excited, he took his own shirt off, laying it as carefully as he could off to the side of the desk (it was hard to keep your shit neat when you wanted to be messy). He dug his fingers into her hair again, and yanked her into another kiss, this time really pressing himself against her. It wasn’t just their bank accounts that differed, it seemed. Where she was soft, helpless, he was firm, foreboding against her. He loomed over her, nearly suffocating her with not only his greedy lips, but his large, hairy, heavy frame. He pulled her away for a moment, ignoring the way she winced. He was pretty heavy handed, especially when it came to such a darling looking thing. He started to roll his hips into her, pushing his tip right against her clit. He liked the way she jumped every time, liked the way her toes seemed to curl. 

“You’re gonna handle me REAL well, girlie. I can tell. You’re really just a kitten, ain’t ya?”

His hand cupped at one of her breasts, kneading and pulling at the flesh. He was heavy handed with her, using enough force to make her wince. Not his fault she had a cute pair, with a face to match. He would sit there and play with them till they were nice and raw, but he wasn’t sure his cock would handle this much stalling. He hooked his finger into her underwear, and pulled them off. They were pretty much soaked, and something about that was just so charming to him. He let go of her hair, and groped her pussy, palming at her wet, warm folds. She held onto his hand, writhing under his firm grip. He pulled his hand away, letting her whimper as he checked out just how much she left on his hand. Needy little thing, it seemed. He slapped that hand over her mouth, and pushed himself right inside. You’d think he’d give her just the tip, get her used to his size.

You’d be wrong.

He pushed himself fully inside of her, balls deep, and watched her shake. Not that he blamed her. He was a big guy, afterall. He kept his hand over her mouth, despite how much she clawed at his hand. He held her like that, not moving a single muscle until she decided to settle down. He pulled his hand away, watching as her own drool (along with her own fluids) smeared over her delicate little mouth. She looked at the cock stuff inside of her, before looking at his face. He was expecting some kind of retort, some kind of insult, maybe even a slap to the face, stuff he was used to.

“You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

He opened his mouth to give her a life lesson (one he gave everyone when they barked that at him), when she suddenly flung herself at him, nearly smashing her lips against his own. That...was a first. But he was NOT complaining. He grabbed the back of her head, and returned the kiss with fervor, letting her moan right into his greedy, greedy mouth. Laying her right onto her back, he started to slam himself right into her. He had no idea how his desk supported his weight, especially when he was acting damn near belligerent on his new toy, but god was he glad it did. Especially since his new toy seemed just as excited as he was now, running her hands through his absolute mess of chest hair, and even locking her legs around him, as if she didn’t want him to leave. He parted the kiss, panting huskily against her lips. She moved not an inch, in either obedience, or the fact that his strong, fat hands were still holding the back of her head, as if he was scruffing a mutt.

“You’re taking me real nice, doll. You feel nice and tight, and you’re feeling me up like you actually like me.”

She didn’t seem to be focusing on his words for a moment, but rather keeping her focus on his big, hairy tummy. Not that he cared, he favored looking at her tits moving in sync with his thrusts. He favored watching the lewdness in her eyes, he favored knowing that her ravenous pussy leaked all over his desk. All of these he favored, over her actually meeting his eyes (Sykes wasn’t a real romance type, case you haven’t guessed). He let her continue her grubby little hands as he lowered his face right to the nape of her neck. He could tell that she liked hearing him talk, given the way she seemed to pull at his hair every time his breath brushed against her ear.

“It’s gonna feel so good when I cum right in you. You’re already handling me so good, you’re already gonna cum yourself. I can see it. I can see it plain as day, you wanna cum on my cock. Even if I’m a bad, bad guy, you want me doll. And that’s SO sweet of ya, really.”

He could tell she was trying to give him a bit of a fight. Just a little bit of one. She had such a mean little scowl about her, as if she refused to let him see her cum. Unfortunately for her, he always took what he wanted. And after just a few more thrusts, after taunting her with his sweet, sweet voice, and after grabbing her so tightly she bruised, she came. She shook something fierce as he fucked her right through it, relishing in her cries of ecstasy. He was used to screams. Screams of mercy, of pain, but hearing one from such a cute little dame cumming for him, it was just so refreshing. She pushed his face away, only to bury her teeth right into his big, meaty neck. Most bites tended to happen on his hand, so feeling it here was just something else. He didn’t have a chance in hell. With a swear under his lips, he came. He forced her to keep still, pumping cum right inside of her. Even as it trickled out of her, he didn’t seem to quit. He wasn’t timing it, but he knew he lasted a damn good minute before he finished.

“Shit.”

Was his only response. A simple, satisfied swear. One that helped ease all the tension in his poor, old body. His stomach rested on hers as he panted, ever so slowly calming down from a damn good high. She was quite a vision herself, covered in sweat and bruises. Pretty thing. She forced herself to swallow, before speaking, wearily.

“We uh...square, right?”

That made him laugh. He shook his head, leaning over to his discarded jacket, and pulling out a cigar. He lit it up, taking a good, deep inhale, right before looking down at her.

“Honey, that was a damn good fuck, really it was. But that was NOT worth twenty five thousand. You still got a bit of work ahead of ya, Doll.”

He watched her wince as he tapped his cigar, letting the ashes fall onto her exposed skin. Yep.

She was a keeper.

[tired0artist]

not enough (part two)

>part one<

paring: female!V x Johnny Silverhand

warnings: depression, amnesia, alcoholism, angst, fluff, happy ending (but you gotta wait for it), character (near) death

summary: continuation to the first part.

note: as before I will be describing my V. and yes, there will be a third part. I’m not gonna be a cunt and leave you guys with this lmao.

————<•>————

V was pointlessly walking through the city, staring at her feet. It wasn’t raining like in the old movies she and Johnny watched in the old cinema after Rouge left. No. It was loud, smelly, bright and full of people.

She ended up in the park where she first met Zen master and sat down on a bench. V stared at her still shaking hands and wished that suddenly she would feel a small pinch in her brain and Johnny would appear out of nowhere.

He would appear just to talk shit about people passing by, hoping to make her laugh or annoy her enough so that she would take her mind off of whatever was bothering her.

But he wasn’t there. Her Johnny was probably gone... what’s left is in her brain. While the other Johnny didn’t seem to even want to look at her... maybe he truly just didn’t like her. And she was trying to do the impossible.

Suddenly she got a call. Third time this night. From the same person.

She picked up and said “Hey, Kerry...”

Kerry’s tired and panicked face appeared and he seemed to be driving “V!! Oh thank what ever is watching over us! Fuck honey! I was so worried, where are you? Where did you go at night? Was it Johnny again? I swear I’ll kick his young ass for what he’s doing to you!”

V choked on a sobb. Somehow hearing Kerry’s voice and the worry for her of all people in his voice... cause her to break and just whimper.

“Kerry...”

He stopped talking and looked into his phone, asking gently “Honey, where are you? I’ll come get you”

After explaining where she was, Kerry had her keep the call going. He wanted to know if she was safe.

Not even ten minutes passed, as Kerry found her. He immediately hugged the young woman to his chest and caressed her black thick hair.

“Shhh... I’m here honey. Come on, let’s go home”

Kerry led V to his expensive car and soon he was driving the now silent woman to his mansion. He was growing worried as she entered the residence without a word, took her naked cat and went inside her room.

V took off her clothes, putting on an old SAMURAI shirt and a pair of sport shorts. She got under the covers with Nibbles, she kissed the cat’s head as he snuggled into her shirt, seeking warmth.

She must’ve fell asleep because what woke her up was yelling coming from somewhere in the villa. V got up and took her gun, intending to blast whoever was a threat. What she didn’t expect is to see Rogue on the couch across from Kerry who was smoking.

V didn’t make herself known yet as she listened to the pair.

“—told him to fuck off and look for a new place. I don’t care that he doesn’t have a place to stay at. He was fucking with V too much. I tried looking the other way, but I fucking can’t. He’s worse than ever” Rogue said putting her phone in her pocket.

“Back in our day... he was an asshole. Sure. But now? What he’s doing isn’t even like him...” Kerry said, with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not surprised that V finally had enough. Poor kid... we should’ve intervened”

“No” V said, walking out from behind a pillar “It’s between him and me. He didn’t do anything to you, if anything he is nice to you. He doesn’t deserve this from you...”

“Kid, did you hit your head? He’s a complete psycho—“ Rogue started.

“To me, not to you. I don’t want you to take it out on him. He needs you both” V stated, looking away “He doesn’t need me anymore but you two are important to him... I’ll be fine. I’ll leave him alone, if he’ll need anything he’ll come... like he did for the last month...”

Kerry stood up and wrapped his arm around V saying “No, no. No more helping him out from you. You tried to be there for him and he’s worse than ever. So from now on, leave him be. Deny any request and just let him figure it out. Just like he did inside your brain”

“He’s right. Fuck Johnny. Let him find his way to you” Rogue said, while crossing her arms.

V looked between them and finally nodded “Okay... maybe you’re right. He needs to process everything on his own”

“Yup. Of course we’ll be there for him, but your door is closed honey. If he’ll want in, then the fuck will have to find a window to enter through” Kerry said, trying to cheer up the younger woman.

She smiled a bit but soon looked away. One question on her mind, ever since she left Johnny.

And of course nothing goes unnoticed with the Queen of Afterlife in the room.

“What is it kid? There’s something more bothering you” she stated.

Kerry immediately sat V down next to him on the couch saying “Come on, V. You can tell us anything”

V stared at her hands and finally asked “Do you think that... if Johnny and I met normally and not through the chip... would he still... would he and I—“

“Well kid, he would be old like us. But knowing Johnny, he would have his eyes on you the first time you stepped inside Afterlife with that friend of yours” Rogue said with a small smile, thinking about the situation.

“And if he didn’t see you there, then probably after finding out that you were the one stealing from Arasaka? And rumoured that you were somehow involved with the death of Saburo? V, he would have wedding rings ordered” Kerry said with a laugh, as Rogue snorted.

“The man would be stumbling over his feet for you if things were normal, kid”

V laughed along with them, her heart somehow feeling lighter the longer she spent time with Rogue and Kerry. To her they were like a clan. Like a family.

As weeks went by, V returned to her work but was also in charge of the security at Afterlife. Which meant a lot of fucking paper work, dealing with idiots and sitting with Rogue. Keeping an eye out for anyone who would want to kill the woman.

Johnny tried calling V couple of times during the first few weeks. She didn’t answer any of his calls, although her heart was heavy with worry. Because what if he really needed help? What if someone stabbed him and he was bleeding out in some alleyway?

This paranoia caused V to call Rogue or wake up Kerry so that they could call the man and find out what’s going on.

Each time they either got a question.

“Where’s V?”

Or if he was drunk enough they got a statement.

“I need V”

But every time his friends would refuse him anything related to the young nomad.

Whenever V saw Johnny at Afterlife she simply left the room or just kept her distance. Giving him space.

Although it felt like he didn’t want space. Because whenever she stayed in the room, his dark eyes would be on her the whole time.

One time a guy came over to V and tried to seduce her, drunkenly. The guy was getting a bit too touchy and she was just about to get the fucker out of the Afterlife. But before she could even push him away, the guy got yanked back buy his shoulder so hard, that V was sure it was dislocated.

“Fucking dog. Out. Now”

She looked up in confusion just to see Johnny dragging the guy outside of the Afterlife. V wanted to go after him, but decided to stay and instead ordered Jackie’s disgusting drink and went to sit with Rogue.

The Queen of the Afterlife smiled at V as she sat down next to her. Around an hour later, Johnny came up to Rogue asking for some intel.

V tried to look away from him, but the seemingly fresh blood on his metal arm and on his neck, caught her attention. She stared at it in slight shock and looked up just to see Johnny staring at her. He didn’t say anything. But his eyes screamed. Without a word to V, he thanked Rogue and left.

Next morning they found a body in an alleyway near the Afterlife.

One evening V was at Afterlife for a different reason, than normally.

She was sitting at the bar talking to Claire when she heard someone call her name. With a smile she turned to see Judy and Panam walking inside.

“Hey, there V. Finally found the time for us huh?” Judy said as she sat down at the bar, the other girl following.

“Yeah I was waiting for a fucking call, you asshole. The fuck were you doing?” Panam said, already ordering a beer.

V’s heart felt lighter as she was around her girls and immediately she regretted not calling them sooner.

“Sorry, I was busy and things were complicated for a bit. But hey, I’m back on board” she said while raising her glass.

“Fine, you’re off the hook for tonight” Judy said, while Panam mumbled something under her breath. Unwilling agreeing.

“Thanks, really I want us to meet up more. I’m no longer dying so, how about we have fun?” V joked slightly.

“Sure, what’s on the menu? I’ve never been here for a drink before” Judy said.

Claire came up, hearing this and said “First time? Well people here, like V and her friend did, normally order Silverhand on their first visit”

Both Panam and Judy frowned at it, as V simply said “Fuck that, three Jackie Wells’s for us. Time to change the favourite drink”

Claire grinned and got to work.

“Is it any good?” Panam asked as soon as the three of them had the drinks in their hands.

V laughed and shook her head “It’s the worst drink Jackie ever made for me. Cheers”

While V downed her drink whole, Judy got couple of sips in before asking for something else. But Panam much like V, drank the whole thing. But she actually enjoyed it.

“You’re fucking weird Panam” V laughed as Panam once again ordered Jackie’s drink.

“A psychopath” Judy agreed with a smirk.

Panam flipped them off, saying “You don’t have raste, chooms. And V here is the true psychopath. She drinks it even though she doesn’t like it”

“Fuck off, Panam” V laughed and finished her drink, calling Claire over saying “Okay Claire, one Silverhand for me!”

“Coming right up!” the bartender called back.

“By the way how’s your parasite doing? Still neck deep in shit?” Judy asked, looking at V closely.

“Yeah, you kicked his ass right?” Panam added, already looking pissed.

V simply sighed and thanked Claire as she handed her the drink.

“It’s not that easy... let’s not talk about him tonight. I want to hang out with my chooms for a bit”

Both girls looked ready to push V but eventually nodded, changing the subject.

The rest of the night they spend drinking, dancing and laughing at some dumb shit. It made V, feel like she did with Jackie when she first came to the Nightcity.

It was getting bright by the time the girls left the Afterlife. They were giggling shits, as V was searching for a cig.

“I thought you weren’t smoking” Panam said as she watched V clumsyly lit up a cigarette and passing it to Judy.

“I’m not... Judy and I are sharing” V said with a laugh.

Panam snorted and leaned against a wall, Judy following as V stood in front of the girls.

V was looking around, while smoking as if looking for something.

“V you okay?” Panam asked in confusion.

“Huh? Yeah just looking for Johnny... he usually comes out when I smoke”

Judy passed her the cigarette with a frown saying “V, he’s not in your head anymore”

V flinched and stared at the smoking cigarette in her hand “Oh... yeah... I guess, I forgot...” slowly she brought the cig to her lips, as Panam scoffed.

“Fucking Silverhand... why didn’t you just kick his ass when he came back as a amnesiac asshole?”

“Yeah V... he was treating you like shit. Why did you go through with it?” Judy asked.

V started shaking as tears gathered in her violet eyes, she sniffed saying “B-Because I promised him... back in Mikoshi. He was afraid of going back to who he was and of being alone... I promised him that I— that I would be there for him. That I wouldn’t hate him”

“Okay, but still. V that wasn’t healthy, the fucker shouldn’t ask for the impossible from you” Panam said.

“Panam is right. Besides your not his babysitter, it’s better that you’d leave—” Judy added, only to get cut off by V nearly yelling.

“I love him”

The girls watched in stunned silence as the young nomad, fell apart in front of them.

“I love him so much it fucking hurts. I love him so much that, I let him treat me like that because I knew that it was his defence mechanism. He was fucking testing if I really wouldn’t leave him... but I failed because I couldn’t handle it anymore... and I can only hope that he’ll find his way... even without me”

V was sobbing and she threw the cigarette on the ground and left, calling a cab to get her.

Not realising that what stunned her girls wasn’t her breaking down. But the man who stood behind her, looking at her in shock as he heard her every word.

Next morning, or rather afternoon was harsh for V. She woke up feeling like shit, her body screaming at her every move.

“Fuck...” she mumbled, while getting out of bed. V made her way through the large villa to the living room, where Kerry was keeping his painkillers. He was already there, playing his guitar.

“Oh look who has returned to the living! I thought that you died there, honey” Kerry said, enjoying the rough state the young woman was in.

“Shut up, Kerry... or I swear I’ll shove that guitar up your ass” V mumbled taking the painkillers.

Kerry laughed and shook his head, taking out his phone he said “I’ll order us some dinner, while you go and make yourself a drink”

V nodded and left the room, trying not to think about the bad hangover she had when Johnny took over.

In the evening she was back at Afterlife. Claire laughed as she saw the rough state the merc was in.

“Rough night?”

V glared slightly saying “Don’t you know it, you demon in disguise... why did you let me drink so much?”

“Well it’s my job, hun. But you really went overboard. When Rogue saw your bill? I throught that she would have a heart attack”

“Fuck... did she ask to see it? Anyway how much to I owe you?”

Claire laughed saying “Rogue payed for it all, so nothing. Also you need to go see her, she’s waiting”

V paled as she glanced at Rogue’s booth, the older woman was already watching her.

“Shit. Okay Claire, I need one shot of tequila before I talk to her”

Claire nodded while laughing, saying “Damn you’re acting like a kid who got caught stealing candy”

V drank the shot and said “I always feel like that with Rogue, so wish me luck”

“I hope you don’t get grounded and still come over to play” Claire joked as V flipped her off.

As V walked over to the Queen of Afterlife, she smiled sheepishly saying “Uhh... hey Rouge?”

The woman’s eyes were cutting as she said “Saw your tab, kid. You’re trying to off yourself? I’m surprised you even got up this morning”

“Oh come on, it was a girls night out. You know that I don’t party that often”

“That’s true, just go more slowly next time. Your body is still regenerating after the relic. Now, I’ve got a job for you” Rogue said.

Hours later V was bleeding out in Pacifica, behind a fucking crate inside some dirty warehouse. She killed everyone, including the target but what was it worth if she couldn’t move.

“Fuck...” she hissed, while calling Rogue.

The woman’s face appeared as she asked “V? Job done?”

V coughed up some blood “Yeah, but I’m kinda bleeding out... in the warehouse...”

Rogue looked scared but something else caught her gaze as she yelled out “Johnny! Fuck! V hang on, I think he’s coming for you. I need to give him a call and exact location, stay awake kid”

With that the call ended and V was left all alone. She focused on the pain, trying to stay awake. Tears were running down her cheeks as she was scared shitless. She died once and it wasn’t pretty. She didn’t want to go again.

As she held her hands on her bleeding stomach, she couldn’t help but think about Jackie.

Is this how he felt in his last moments? This is the pain he felt? Well fuck.

V was at the verge of falling asleep as a Porsche burst through the doors of the warehouse. The bang woke her up a bit, as her heart speed up a bit.

She heard the cardoor open, following by a yell.

“V?! It’s Johnny! Where are you?!”

She tried to scream but ended up coughing up some more blood. Thankfully it was enough for Johnny to hear her as he came running.

He fell on his knees in front of her and touched her hands, taking them away from her wound.

“H-How—“

“Shh.. don’t talk. You’ll be fine, you hear me? You’ll be okay, sweetheart” he said while patching her up a bit. His military training helping at times like this.

V was shaking, her eyes trying to roll back into her skull.

“Johnny... cold...”

“Fuck... hang on V. Eyes on me, okay? You’ll be fine” he said, his own hands trembling a bit as he desperately patched her up.

V could see black spots as the coldness was starting to surround her, she didn’t even feel Johnny’s hands working on her.

She barely raised her hand and touched his face, taking off his glasses clumsily. V smiled at his dark eyes, whispering.

“Th-Thank you...” with the last grip on consciousness she smirked “Lo-Love you... Robert”

Johnny’s face turned white and shocked, and V felt glad that for the last time she managed to make this asshole speechless and have the last word.

•there will be part three as I said above so follow me or just check the tag “Johnny Silverhand x V”

•also English isn’t my first language so sorry for any errors.

•thank you all for reading this and the first part. I’m not good at writing angst and catching people’s feelings but with V and Johnny angst is a must hahah

Tag list (if you wanna be tagged leave a comment): @dartheldur @signwriting @missweatherwax @commanding-officer @lovinghunty

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 10

OH SHIT WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT SOME WHOLESOME FRIENDSHIP MOMENTS???? Hell yeah wholesome friendship moments. I love the wholesome friendship moments

enjoy it while it lasts :D

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now​ Thank you to @rivys​ for beta reading!

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~~~

Tubbo was sitting next to the small pond in the middle of L’manberg, staring into the water. Fish darted through the swaying grass, creating small ripples in the otherwise still surface. He heard the grass rustle behind him and didn’t need to look to know it was his closest friend. 

Tommy sighed. “Hey Big T.” His voice was subdued, filled with a type of grief. Tubbo looked up, eyes full of concern. “Hey man, you alright?” 

“Yeah… Yeah I’m good.” Tommy plopped down in the grass next to Tubbo and stared into the water. “Look, there's something I need to tell you. Just… Just promise me you won’t freak out, ok? At least not until I’ve had a chance to explain myself.” “Ok? Whats up?” 

Tommy took a deep breath. He couldn’t help but be terrified of how Tubbo would react to the news. He didn’t want to lose his best friend��� “I’m… I’m not your Tommy,” he admitted. He spoke slowly, as if each word was chosen carefully. 

Tubbo furrowed his brow. “What? What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I’m still Tommy, but just not the same Tommy. Does that make sense?”

“Kinda?”

Tommy let out a sigh, before telling his best friend the whole story. He explained how he was ripped away from his home, how he had woken up here with an arrow in his chest, how he had experienced the war through a screen. It was similar to what had happened with George, except this time he had no one to back him up. There was no one there to vouch for him, and all he could do was hope that Tubbo would trust him. 

When he was finished, there were tears in his friends' eyes. “So… You’re telling me that you’re from another world? And that my Tommy might be dead?”

“Yeah.” 

“Tommy, how long have you been hiding this from us?” 

“Two weeks maybe? It happened during the bow duel.”

“You’ve been away from your home for two weeks, and you didn’t say anything?

“I’m sorry… I should have told you what was happening. I’m really sorry. I just… I didn’t know what to say.”

“Have you been dealing with this all alone for the past two weeks?” 

“I mean, not really… The same thing happened to Dream, so I’ve been talking with him. George has been teaching us sword fighting.” he shrugged 

“Tommy…” Tubbo reached up and wiped away the tears that were starting to fall. “Tommy, why did you wait so long to tell me? Damn it, I should have noticed sooner. I should have been there to help you” 

“W-what? Tubbo I just told you that your best friend could potentially be dead because of me, and that's what you’re worried about?”

“You’re still Tommy, aren’t you? You may not be the same Tommy that tried to scare me after I first arrived, or the Tommy that broke his arm while trying to build the wall, but you’re still my friend.”

“But… But what about your Tommy…?” Tubbo shrugged “I trust that he’s still alive. I feel like I would know if something happened to him. Besides, he’s too stubborn to die in such a stupid way.”

Tommy could feel his eyes start to water. He hastily reached up and wiped away the tears “I… thank you big man. Thank you so much”

Tubbo turned and gave his friend a hug “Yeah, no problem. We’re gonna get you home, ok? We’re gonna find a way to get you back home.”

The tears flowed freely down his cheeks. How long had it been since he had last been comforted like this? Since someone had actually promised to help him get home? Suddenly, he realized just how lonely the past two weeks had been. Being forced to act as though nothing was wrong, and that he didn’t desperately want to return home had taken a toll on him. His only release was late at night while sparring with Dream and George, but that only lasted for a few hours. The rest of the time, he had felt completely and desperately alone. So finally having the chance to actually talk to someone felt so relieving. 

They sat like that for a long time. Exactly how long, Tommy wasn’t sure. By the time he finally moved, his tears had long since dried. 

“So, where are you going to go?” Tubbo asked him.

Right. He had almost forgotten about his banishment. “I’m not sure. I might go and stay with Dream for a bit. I really don’t want to live alone for now.”

“That makes sense. Do you need help gathering your stuff together?” 

“I mean, I didn’t exactly have much. But you can come along if you want. I wouldn’t mind the company.” 

As the two friends walked back to the small wooden shed, Tubbo couldn’t help but go over the past two weeks in his mind. What he could have done differently. Things that he should have noticed. Ways he could have helped. 

“Hey big T, you alright?” Tommy asked as they stepped inside the small building. 

“Yeah I’m good. Just thinking.”

“Alright… let me know if you need anything, ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah I will. Thank you.” 

~~~

About an hour later, Tommy and Tubbo found themselves knocking on the door of Dream’s base, each of them holding a chest full of items. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I know that you trust him, but our Dream did some really messed up stuff…” Tubbo muttered, feeling extremely uneasy about Tommy’s plan of staying with Dream. He knew that it was irrational, especially if Tommy was right about this being a different Dream, but that didn’t exactly do anything to help his anxiety. 

“Yeah. I’m not sure what exactly the other Dream did to you guys, but this Dream is a really chill guy, I swear.” 

“Ok… I trust you…” he didn’t feel totally sure, but he knew that he trusted his best friend. If Tommy trusted Dream, then so did Tubbo. 

The door to the base creaked open, revealing a disheveled man behind it. Tubbo instinctively tensed, unable to shake the feeling of fear. However, a closer look at Dream made it pretty obvious that he wasn’t exactly dangerous. In fact, it looked as though he had just gotten out of bed. His blonde hair was a complete mess, as if he hadn’t been bothered to comb it. Dark circles rested underneath his eyes as he gave them a tired glare. “What do you want?” his voice was sluggish and drowsy.

“Ok I know this is- wait. Did you just wake up? Dude it’s like noon. Why the hell were you still sleeping?” Tommy asked, clearly trying to hold in a laugh.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’ve been staying up until 3 am every day for the past two weeks training?” It was only then that he finally noticed Tubbo’s presence. “Uhhh I mean… Fuck. It's too early for this.” he ran a hand through his already messy hair.

“Yeah Tubbo knows by the way. Kinda the reason why we’re here.”

“Uhh, hi?” Tubbo gave a small little wave, trying to control the fear that was stirring in his gut. 

“Jesus christ… alright come on in. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

About 10 minutes later, the three of them sat inside Dream’s base. In Dream’s hands was a vial of blue liquid. As Tubbo and Tommy watched, he poured a few drops into a small bottle of water. “Are you… Are you drinking a speed pot?” Tubbo asked, his voice quiet and nervous. He still didn’t want to anger Dream, despite Tommy’s reassurance that it was fine.

“It’s about the closest thing to coffee I’ve got here,” he said with a deadpan voice. Tubbo just stared at him in confusion. 

“Coffee is something that people drink to help wake themselves up in our world. It's bitter and gross and I don’t understand how people like it,” Tommy explained. 

“You’re just an uncultured child who doesn’t understand these things,” Dream said as he took a sip of the water. 

“And you’re just a bitch,” he grumbled.

Dream rolled his eyes. “So what exactly happened? Why do you have all your stuff with you? Why does Tubbo know about what happened?” 

Tommy launched into an explanation as to what had happened earlier that day. His breath caught as he explained what Wilbur had told him, and the way that he had been banished. It hadn’t really sunk in until just then what had happened, and the weight of it all was crashing down on him hard. His eyes started to water, but he hastily brushed away the tears. No. He had already cried enough today. He needed to be focused on a solution. Tubbo placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. Tommy gave his friend a grateful smile and pushed onwards. 

By the time he had finished his story, Dream was looking at him in shock. “Wait so he actually kicked you out?” 

“Yeah… Yeah he did.” 

“Damn. Ok… I mean, yeah sure you can stay here if you need. Is Tubbo staying here as well?” 

“Uh, n-no sir. I was just helping Tommy with his stuff…” He stammered. 

Dream let out a laugh “Did you just call me sir? Wow, ok I didn’t realize I was that old”

Tubbo looked down in embarrassment. Right. This was a different person. He needed to remember that. His eyes were fixed upon the small pile of Tommy’s tools and weapons that was in the corner. “S-sorry…” He muttered. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. “H-hey Tommy? Why is your bow blinking?” 

“What?” Tommy’s eyes snapped to the pile. Sure enough, on the grip of his enchanted bow, was a small blinking red light. 

~~~

“Dream, I need to ask you a few questions,” Wilbur said into his mic. He had just gotten off the phone with Tommy and Tubbo, and had decided to go directly to Dream for answers. 

“Like what?” Dream said in a casual tone. 

Despite everything, Will couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief at his friends voice. It was the first time he had actually spoken to Dream since his disappearance, so hearing his voice again was definitely a weight off his shoulders. “What did you do to Tommy?” He asked, forcing his voice to be calm and even. 

A brief pause. “What do you mean?” 

Of course Dream would try to play dumb. Wilbur had expected it to be the case. He had prepared for it. “Tommy just told me and Tubbo exactly what happened. I simply want to hear both sides of the story.” Will figured that if Dream was cornered, he would have an easier time admitting to what happened. 

Another pause, longer this time. Dream couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. A sadistic smile of excitement stretched across his face. “That little snitch…” he said quietly. “Alright, you know what? I’m feeling generous. You can tell Tommy that he’s got 48 hours before I make my move. 48 hours to try and figure out how to say goodbye.” A low, menacing laugh emerged from Wilbur’s speakers “I look forward to seeing his next course of action is”

“W-what? What the fuck are you on about?”

“The timer is ticking Wilbur. I recommend you start acting.” The call ended. 

Wilbur sat in his chair for what felt like forever, trying to figure out what had just happened. Dream had been blackmailing Tommy. He had been threatening something, and Will had very likely just made him follow through with that threat. Fuck. He needed to tell Tommy. He needed to figure out the full story. Quickly, he went in and joined the private call with Tommy and Tubbo. 

“Dream said you have 48 hours, Tommy wh- wait, why is Eret here?” He asked. Eret was quickly booted from the call by Tubbo. 

“Sorry about that. Tommy wanted to talk with him. What’s up Wilbur?” 

“I… I fucked up. I really fucked up. Tommy, I need you to tell me exactly what Dream did. And don’t you fucking dare tell me that you don’t remember.”

“What…? Wilbur what did you do? What did he say?” Tommy asked, his voice frantic. He was still shaken after the exchange with Eret, and Wilbur’s behavior wasn’t exactly helping. 

“I don’t know! All he said was that you have 48 hours until he makes his move, and then he left. I figured you would know what he meant.”

“No… No no no this can’t be happening. Fuck…! Fucking hell do you have any idea what you just did Wilbur?! You just fucking killed them all! Everyone! He’s going to fucking kill them now because of you! Tubbo, Will, Fundy, all of them! Everyone I knew and loved is now going to die because of your fucked up curiosity!” He yelled. He couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. If only he had never followed Dream in the first place. Then, none of this would be happening. He would still be at home. His friends wouldn’t be in danger. Everyone would still be safe. 

“Tommy, Tommy! Calm down!” Wilbur said, trying to keep up. 

That only made the panic worse. Those were the exact same words that Wilbur had told Tommy when he had challenged Dream to the duel. The exact same words that had only served to fuel his rage and anger. All of that rage and anger came flooding back to him. “No! No I’m not going to calm down when the people I care for are about to die because of you! My fucking home is going to be destroyed in a few days because of you!” 

“Tommy, no one is going to destroy your house. Take a deep breath”

“I’m not talking about this fucking house!! I’m talking about my world! The world that all of you treat like it’s a fucking game! Well guess what? It’s not a game. There are people living there. People who are just trying to live their lives. People who are sick of living in fear. People like me.”

A silence fell over the call as Tubbo and Wilbur processed exactly what their friend was saying. “What are you talking about…?” tubbo asked softly. His voice was filled with hurt and disbelief, as if he didn’t want to believe what his mind was telling him. 

“Do I have to spell it out for you?! I’m not from this world, Tubbo! I’m not the same Tommy that you knew a month ago. That Tommy is gone. And because of you, he’s likely going to die.” He spat out. God, what was he doing? His friends were in danger and here he was, yelling at people that had done nothing but try to help and give support. 

Wilbur gasped as the pieces clicked into place. Every strange action, each weird conversation from the past week came back to him. “You’re from the SMP, aren’t you?”

Tommy let out a cry of outrage “Don’t you fucking dare associate my name with the Dream SMP! I didn’t fight in a fucking war just to be grouped in with those bastards. I didn’t risk my fucking life for people to associate me with them!”

“Right, right. I’m sorry. You’re from L’manberg. Not the SMP. My mistake.” Will said immediately. The last thing that he needed was this other Tommy angry at him. Especially if what he said about their Tommy being in danger was true. “God, that makes sense. That makes so much sense. Oh my god that's why you freaked out over the clip of Eret!” 

Tommy felt every muscle in his body tense at the name. “What you showed me was a walk in the park compared to what actually happened. He fucking drugged us all, and then Dream came out and taunted us. I still have nightmares about it…” 

“Anyways! Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that right now!” Tubbo said hastily. He didn’t want his friend to have another PTSD episode, especially now that he knew why it was so bad. “You uh, you said that Dream was going to do something?” 

“Yeah. Yeah I did. So… in this world, my world is just a game that you run on a server, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“It was the same in my world. The entire universe was connected to a single computer that Dream found. With the right command, it could do whatever he wanted. Change memories, create objects out of thin air, hell, even teleportation.” 

“Which is how you managed to get here… right?” 

“Exactly. Apparently the computer was connected with another computer that he found here. I think it belonged to the other Dream?”

“That makes sense… Dream hosted the server…” 

Tommy took a deep breath. “He told me that if I… If I told anyone what had happened he would delete the server. And considering how everything else about my world and this server is connected, I’m about 99% sure that doing so would destroy my world, and kill everyone in it.”

~~~

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[iamtrebleclefstories]

maybe it’s wrong to say I love you - part three Part Three: This Love

this love is good, this love is bad, this love is alive back from the dead

In honor of Nina’s ( @doc-pickles​ ) birthday, enjoy Part 3 of this fic that has taken my whole heart. It’s a super long, monstrosity of an update, but I hope it’s everything you never knew you needed. It might be my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Let me know what you think in the comments!

Find parts one and two on my Master List

-This love is good-

-This love is bad-

Since deciding to stay in Seattle two days ago, Alex hadn’t had a chance to apologize to Jo for what he’d said. He hadn’t seen her around the hospital and was beginning to worry that maybe he’d caused her to run. Tired of acting like a wuss, Alex finally made his way over to L&D where he knew she spent most of her time. It wasn’t that far or out of the way for him since the NICU was on the same floor, but he didn’t venture to that side more than a couple times a week.

As Alex was nearing the L&D doors, he heard a couple whimpers coming from a supply closet on his left. He paused and pressed his ear to the door, trying to figure out what was going. Realizing that there was definitely someone inside the room crying, Alex knocked quietly and let himself in.

“Hey, I just heard some crying outside and I wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Alex scanned the room for the source of the cries. He locked eyes with teary-faced Jo. “Jo.”

“What are you doing here?” Jo’s eyes red from crying. “I thought you left for Baltimore.”

“I decided to stay,” Alex stepped closer and crouched down to where she was seated in the corner. Jo looked at him expectantly so he responded. “I couldn’t leave things the way they were. I didn’t mean what I said the other night. I’m sorry. We matter. You matter. Our friendship matters. And I don’t know about you, but I’d really love to have my best friend back.”

“I’m sorry too,” Jo sniffled. “I was just… I’m going through something and everything just kind of came crumbling all at once. Part of it was me being pissed as hell at you, but the other part was me just projecting my own issues.”

“Are you okay? Is it Paul?” Alex sat down next to her on the floor. “Because I swear if he got out early and tries to come find you, I’ll—”

“No it’s not Paul,” Jo let out a watery laugh. “It has nothing to do with him.”

Alex watched as Jo began crying again, her chest heaving slightly as she fought with whatever was plaguing her thoughts. Unable to resist this time, Alex placed his arm around her shoulders and brought Jo into a hug for the first time in over three years. He waited patiently as Jo broke down in his arms, rubbing her back and shoulders comfortingly.

There was something about being in Alex’s embrace after so long that made her finally give into the emotions she was feeling. Maybe it was because despite their rocky history, Jo knew she was completely and utterly safe to be one hundred percent herself around him. She felt secure enough to truly process all of the changes she’d experienced in the last seventy-two hours.

“I’m pregnant,” Jo shared quietly after minutes of silence. She felt Alex’s body tense slightly and hesitate in his movements before nodding, a signal for her to continue. “I found out four days ago. I’m about eight weeks.” Jo paused and let her eyes flit over to Alex’s face. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, but he nodded at her to keep going. “I—uh, I’ve been suspecting it for a couple weeks now. I’m a fetal surgeon. I’m surrounded by pregnant women every day.” Jo huffed a laugh. “But, I think I was so far in denial that I didn’t want to recognize it. Anyway, I took a blood test four days ago and it confirmed my suspicion. That’s why I was a mess when we spoke two days ago. I’d been holding onto this secret all by myself and didn’t know how to handle it, so I just yelled at you, because I knew I couldn’t talk to you about what was going on in my life without breaking down exactly like I did a few minutes ago.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Alex asked, concerned. “Does the father know?”

“You remember that douche-bag ex-boyfriend I mentioned?” Jo laughed ironically. “Well, after the argument you and I had, I called him. I thought you were leaving and never wanted to see me again, so I might as well call Jason and see if I could fix things. We were gonna have a baby.” Jo took a deep breath and wiped a couple straggling tears. “When I told him that I wanted to keep the baby, he wasn’t happy. He said that he wasn’t going to put his career on hold and neither should I over a mistake. So, I suggested getting him in the OB program here. We could work together again and raise the baby together… That's when he yelled at me. He wanted me to have an abortion and I said no. Then he said, ‘yeah go ahead and have the baby. You’ll be having it alone in Seattle. Don’t call me again, or try to contact me for help.’ And he hung up.”

“I’m gonna be a single mom,” Jo bit her lip as she tried to hold back some tears. “And I’m okay with that. I’ve come to terms with that. I’m ready for this. I’m ready to be a mom. Sure, the timing could’ve been better and I never pictured it happening this way, but I want this baby. I want to do this. I’m just… I’m scared. What if I’m not good at it?”

“Jo, you’ve never not been good at something,” Alex looked at Jo for a moment in awe. She really was the strongest person he had ever met. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a great mom.”

“I have my first appointment tomorrow,” Jo sighed. “That’s why I was in here, crying. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I never pictured myself going to my first prenatal appointment alone. I could ask Mer or Bailey, but they both have a lot on their plates right now. They don’t need something else to worry about.”

“Why don’t I go with you?” Alex suggested.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jo made a face and pulled away slightly from his embrace in order to get a good look at him.

“I can go with you,” Alex repeated. “Just tell me what time and exam room you’ll be in and I’ll be there.”

“I don’t know, Alex,” Jo shook her head. “Just because I cried in front of you doesn’t mean you have to feel like you have to go. I can handle it by myself. I’m good at being alone. I’ve gotten used to it.”

“But that’s the thing. You don’t have to be alone. Not anymore,” Alex took her hand in his own. “You’ve got people now. So many people who give so many craps about whether or not you’re okay. You’ve got me and I mean it this time. I know I haven’t given you much reason to trust me, but I want to be your friend again.”

“Alex…”

“Listen, you told me once that you pictured doing this with me, so let me go with you. Not as your boyfriend or whatever, but as your friend. You shouldn’t be alone. You were there for me when I got shot. I didn’t know that back then, but I know that now. I want to be there for you,” Alex’s mouth curved into a crooked grin. “Besides, if I don’t go with you the nurse is gonna give you that stupid pitying look and ask if ‘you wanna discuss your options.’ I’m doing you a favor.”

“You know, I really hate that you know me so well that you knew exactly what to say,” Jo let out a short laugh, “Fine. You can come. My appointment is tomorrow morning at 8am. Meet me here. Don’t be late.”

—————

-This love is alive back from the dead, oh, oh, oh-

8 Weeks

“You came,” Jo stared at Alex in slight disbelief as he walked up to her outside the OB/GYN wing.

“Of course I came. I told you I’d be here,” Alex gave her a shy smile. “You okay?”

“Nervous,” Jo shoved her hand into her pockets. “Just because I want this doesn’t make it any less nerve wracking or scary. I’m just glad I’m not alone.”

“I’m glad you told me and I get to be here with you,” Alex grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly. “Did you already sign-in?”

“No not yet,” Jo shook her head. “I haven’t walked in yet. I was waiting.”

“Well, I’m here so, let go,” Alex held the door open and walked closely behind Jo as she went up to the front desk to check in for her appointment. Once she was done, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her over to a set of chairs in the corner.

After a few minutes, a nurse stepped out and called her name, “Josephine Wilson.”

Jo stood up and looked back at Alex expectantly. He stood up and gripped her hand in his own, walking back towards the exam room with her. The nurse gave her the same instructions that Jo herself had listed off to patients countless times.

“Alright, just remove your pants and get settled onto the exam table, legs in the stirrups. If you want, I’ve left a gown on the table for you to change into. Dr. Hopewell will be in shortly.”

Jo nodded and began removing her scrubs, handing them to Alex who folded them and placed them on the chair next to him. She donned the gown and slipped her panties off swiftly, tucking them in between her pants. She took a shaky breath as Alex helped her up onto the table, “Thank you. For coming. It means a lot. It’s nice to not be alone.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Alex pressed a kiss on the hand that was being held firmly in his own. “You are and always have been my best friend. You were there for me in my darkest moments and you celebrated with me during some of my happiest ones. There’s no way I’d want to be anywhere else rather than here with you, right now. And if you let me, I plan on being here for you for the long run.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. A young woman in her thirties walked in, a surprised look on her face, “Dr. Wilson. And Dr. Karev. It’s a surprise seeing you here.”

“Dr. Hopewell,” Jo smiled shyly. “Call me Jo. We work together and you’re about to see all my lady-bits so might as well drop the formalities.”

Dr. Hopewell chuckled, “Well, Jo, call me Amanda.” She got into position and fired up the ultrasound machine as Jo placed her legs up in the stirrups. “I have to say, I didn’t expect to see you on this side of the table.”

“Neither did I,” Jo mumbled. “But life happens and you roll with the punches.”

“So I take it this was not a planned pregnancy,” Amanda asked.

“Definitely not,” Jo huffed a short laugh. “But it is wanted.”

“Okay,” Amanda smiled and looked over at Alex. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I—uh, I’m not the dad,” Alex stuttered. “I’m just here to support Jo.”

“Alex is my best friend,” Jo looked up at Alex to see his face of surprise at her admitting that she still saw him that way after so many years. “He didn’t want me to be alone for my first appointment.”

“That’s really kind of you Karev. If only there were more friends like you,” Amanda gave him a small smile before turning her attention back to Jo. “I don’t mean to pry, but I just want to have all the facts straight so that way I can best support you during this pregnancy. Is the father out of the picture?”

“Yes,” Jo answered, biting her lip. “It’s just me.”

“Alright,” Amanda nodded. “You know that means that I will be available to you should you ever need my help. You also need to surround yourself with a great support system. You need people that will help you when you need help, even when you’re too stubborn to ask for it. Single moms are notorious for believing that they are not allowed to ask for help. Don’t fall into that trap. Find your people, your tribe. Although, I see you are off to a very good start considering that Dr. Karev is here with you today.”

“She’s got people,” Alex gave Jo a crooked smile and turned back to Dr. Hopewell. “So, are we gonna see this baby or what?”

“Yes! Alright, Jo, we’re doing a vaginal ultrasound today. I’m going to stick the transducer inside you now. It’s going to be cold and you might feel some pressure or discomfort, but never pain. If it hurts let me know and I’ll stop,” Amanda smiled encouragingly. “Okay, I’m starting now.”

Jo winced slightly at the intrusion of the transducer and tried her best to stay relaxed. She felt Alex run his free hand through her hair, providing a welcome distraction as Hopewell looked on the screen for the fetus. Amanda moved and adjusted her position a few times before an image finally came up on screen, “Aha, there it is. There’s your baby.”

Jo watched in wonder as she saw the tiny blob on the screen. She felt Alex squeeze her hand again as he laughed, “Hey, would you look at that. There’s a baby in there. A tiny Baby Wilson.”

“Woah,” Jo let out and smiled. She looked over to Amanda who’d been taking some measurements. “Can we hear the heartbeat?”

“Of course,” Amanda reached over on the machine and punched some buttons before a steady, quick sound exited the speakers.

“Oh,” Jo gasped and lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she listened to her baby’s heartbeat flutter through the speakers. Tears collected in her eyes at the sound. “Hey, baby.”

“Jo, you’re gonna be a mom,” Alex grinned down at her and wiped a couple tears that had trickled down her face. He felt his own eyes grow watery at the sight and sound of the little life currently developing in Jo’s womb.

Fifteen minutes later, Jo and Alex were walking out of the exam room, each with an ultrasound photo in their hands. Alex beamed as he looked down proudly at the picture he was holding, “I’m gonna put this on my fridge.”

“You are way too excited about this,” Jo rolled her eyes.

“Of course I’m excited,” Alex wrapped his arm around Jo’s shoulder. “I’m going to be an uncle!”

“An uncle?” Jo raised her eyebrows. “Who said that you’re going to be an uncle?”

“I did,” Alex replied simply. “I better be an uncle. Actually, I better be the godfather.”

Jo’s eyes shined in amusement, “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see?” Alex made a face. “Oh, hell no. You want to continue having an appointment buddy, I want to at least be Uncle Alex.”

“Fine. You can be Uncle Alex,” Jo laughed.

“Thank you.”

—————

-These hands had to let it go free, and-

-This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh-

11 Weeks

“You okay?” Alex lingered in the doorway of the bathroom of the frat house as he heard Jo puking into the toilet.

“No,” Jo groaned and lifted her head to see Alex’s look of concern. “I’m sorry. I know I came over to help you furnish this place since obviously neither you or Cristina are capable of doing it on your own and now I’m here monopolizing your bathroom.”

“Jo, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologize for having morning sickness,” Alex walked into the bathroom and crouched down by Jo, pulling her hair back. “I thought you’d gotten past the morning sickness already, though.”

“So did I,” Jo retched.

“Ew, morning sickness Jo?” Cristina entered the bathroom.

“Uh huh,” Jo nodded weakly, leaning her head against Alex’s chest. “I think I’m okay. You guys can go. I’m just going to rinse my mouth out.”

“Okay,” Alex motioned for Cristina to follow him out of the bathroom.

Cristina and Alex wandered into the kitchen and waited for Jo to come out of the bathroom. Cristina stared at the eight week ultrasound photo on the fridge that had given away the news of Jo’s pregnancy when she saw it hanging after showing up unannounced. She eyed Alex suspiciously, “You’re really invested in this.”

“Of course I am. She’s my best friend,” Alex scrunched his face in confusion.

“Are you sure the kid isn’t yours?” Cristina raised an eyebrow.

“Already told you it isn’t,” Alex shot Cristina an unimpressed look. “She’s eleven weeks pregnant. She’s been back for seven. I think you know how to add. Besides, it’s not like that between us. We’re just friends.”

“Just friends my ass,” Cristina scoffed. “I’ve been back for two days and I can tell you are still as in love with her as you were the first time.”

"Okay, yeah i love her. So, what?" Alex shrugged. "I think I always will, but that doesn't mean that I'm gonna do anything about it. She's pregnant and she's moved on and she doesn't need me complicating her life with feelings. Maybe one day it will be different, but right now, this is the way things are. So, I'm just gonna be a good friend to her and I'm gonna be there for whatever she and this baby need."

"Who are you and what have you done with Evil Spawn?" Cristina mused.

"Shut up," Alex rolled his eyes.

Cristina was about to open her mouth to speak again when Jo walked out of the bathroom. Cristina shut her mouth quickly, gaining a strange look from Jo. Jo narrowed her eyes at her two friends,  "What?"

"Nothing." Cristina and Alex answered in tandem.

"Well, I'm going to Mer's house. I probably won't come back tonight, so try not to burn the house down while I'm gone," Cristina nodded at the pair and made her way out the house.  

“Don’t tell Mer!” Jo yelled after her.

“I won’t,” Cristina yelled back.

"She should've just moved in with Mer and Derek," Jo commented as she watched Cristina walk out the door. “Doesn’t she have a room over there?”

“Yup,” Alex chuckled. “I don’t pretend to understand them.”

Jo forced a smile as she felt some dizziness. She closed her eyes for a second, hoping that Alex wouldn’t notice the shift in her demeanor. Of course, she should’ve known that Alex was overly attentive of her every change in mood.

“What’s going on?” Alex asked as he led Jo to take a seat on the staircase since there wasn’t any furniture in the house yet.

Jo took a couple deep breaths, “Somethings wrong. Alex, something is really wrong.”

“Are you in pain? Are you bleeding?” Alex searched frantically for any sight of blood or tenderness in her abdomen.

“I need to go to the hospital. I need an ultrasound. I need to see my baby,” Jo’s breaths grew shallower.

“Okay, Jo. Calm down. Think rationally. You’re a fetal surgeon. You know what things to look for in case something is wrong. You’re probably just dehydrated,” Alex tried to soothe her.

“That’s my point, Alex. I am a fetal surgeon. I know exactly what can go wrong. I have every worst case scenario running through my head right now and that scares the crap out of me because I didn’t know you could love someone so much. If something goes wrong, I can’t help this baby. I can’t operate on myself,” Jo placed a hand on her still flat stomach and wiped a couple straying tears with the other. “So please, don’t look at me like I’m crazy when I ask you to take me to the hospital. Something doesn’t feel right. Please, I just want an ultrasound. I need to make sure my baby is okay.”

Alex saw her distress and conceded, "Okay. We'll go right now."

By the time they’d arrived at the hospital, Jo had begun bleeding. She was shaking with fear as Alex helped her out of the car and carried her into the ER. He bypassed the front desk and placed her on an empty bed, ignoring the confused stares from the likes of Owen and Bailey.

Alex flagged down an intern and barked orders, fear evident in his voice, “You! Drop whatever you’re doing. Get me a portable ultrasound right now!”

The terrified intern scurried over to do as Alex had instructed. Alex leaned down to press a light kiss on Jo’s forehead as she clutched his hand tightly, “Hey. You’re okay. Whatever happens, you’ll be okay. Do you want me to page Hopewell or Herman?”

“No, we don’t call the big guns until there’s something to worry about,” Jo shook her head. “You do it. I trust you.”

“What’s going on here?” Owen asked as he walked up to Jo’s bed.

“Is everything alright, Wilson?” Bailey rushed over to Jo’s bedside.

“I think I might be having a miscarriage,” Jo trembled.

Bailey’s eyes opened wide, “Oh sweetheart.”

“Where the hell is that damn ultrasound?” Alex growled in annoyance.

“Right here!” The intern Alex had tasked with retrieving the ultrasound machine finally came back with the device in hand. “Do you want me to—”

“Just give it to me,” Alex grabbed the machine and got it ready. He had Jo pull up her shirt and he squirted the gel on her abdomen, placing the probe on her stomach. The doctors let out a collective sigh of relief when they heard the heartbeat flutter through the speakers. “It’s okay, Jo. You see? The baby is okay. He or she is in there having a party.”

“Oh thank God,” Jo let out a quiet sob, feeling Bailey smooth her hair down in a comforting manner. She placed her hand on the screen. “Hi baby. You scared the crap out of me. Don’t do that ever again, please. I already love you so much.”

Alex felt all his worries dissipate as he spoke to Jo’s stomach, “God, you really enjoy freaking us out, don’t you?”

“You’re having a baby? My baby is having a baby?” Bailey asked, a smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Jo nodded and wiped a few tears away. “I’m having a baby.”

“Congratulations,” Owen smiled sincerely. He turned to look between Alex and Jo. “So are you two back together or..?”

“Oh, no. I’m not the dad,” Alex laughed awkwardly. “I’m just here as a friend. She was at my house to help me pick out furniture when she asked me to take her to the hospital.”

“Hmm,” Bailey raised an eyebrow, partly unconvinced, partly sure that those two would be together again eventually. “Well, I’m going to call OB down to give you a full work-up. They’ll take blood work and everything.”

“Yes, I’ll make sure that we figure out what’s going on. The baby looks fine though, so I’m not sure why you’re bleeding,” Owen spoke to Jo. “I’m also going to set you up in a room overnight. I know that’s not common but I also know that if I release you, you’re going to want to come in tomorrow morning to work and that’s not going to happen. So, you’re staying here.”

“Fine,” Jo huffed. “But only because I know I need to take it easy if I want to keep cooking this baby for six more months.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Alex said as he wiped the gel off of her stomach and put the machine away.

“Alex, you don’t have to. I’ll be okay on my own,” Jo placed a hand on his arm.

“I know you will. But you don’t have to be. I want to stay with you,” Alex insisted, covering her hand with his own. “Let me stay with you.”

“Okay,” Jo‘s lips twitched slightly.

Bailey and Owen watched from the side as Alex fretted over Jo and yelled at interns to do their jobs right. The two exchanged a look and Owen spoke, “For someone who isn’t the father, he sure is acting like it.”

“He’s in love with her,” Bailey shrugged. “He’s been in love with her practically since day one. He hasn’t said it, but he could care less if that baby was his or not. She’s his person. He’s still going to love her. He’s still going to be there for her and protect her. That’s who he is.”

——————

-Lantern, burning-

-Flickered in the night, only you-

13 Weeks

“Guess what!” Jo grinned as she walked into the attendings’ lounge.

“What?” Cristina asked as she looked up from the medical journal she’d been reading.

“Look!” Jo lifted up her shirt to reveal the tiniest beginnings of the curve of her stomach. “I’m starting to get a bump!”

“Hey baby Wilson,” Alex beamed and walked up to place a hand on Jo’s abdomen. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’re such a dork,” Jo rolled her eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the only reason I came in here this morning. I also have the results back from the prenatal screening. Baby seems to be completely healthy.”

“That’s great,” April said from her spot by the coffee machine.

After Jo’s scare that had her in the hospital a two weeks ago, everyone found out about her pregnancy rather quickly. After all, gossip made its way around the hospital like wildfire. It wasn’t a surprise when Jo woke up the morning after the ordeal to find Meredith glaring at her from the doorway of her hospital room. Once the initial shock and round of questions wore off, everyone had gotten excited and supportive rather quickly.

“Okay, so what’s the verdict?” Meredith asked. “Am I getting fifty dollars from Avery or not?”

“I’m the one getting the fifty dollars. It’s definitely a girl,” Jackson crossed his arms over his chest in confidence.

“Nope,” Meredith shook her head. “It’s definitely a boy. Jo is such a boy mom. She gives off boy mom energy.”

“Okay everyone say your last minute predictions before I open up the envelope,” Jo chuckled.

“I say boy,” Callie took a sip of her coffee.

“Girl,” Bailey narrowed her eyes. “Yes. A girl.”

“It’s gonna be a girl,” Cristina flipped through the pages of her medical journal. “Alex is the godfather. There’s no way this kid isn’t going to end up being Evil Spawn’s worst nightmare. It has to be a girl.”

“I second that,” Derek laughed.

“No, I think it’s a boy,” Richard placed a hand on his chin.

“A boy,” April pitched. “No, a girl. No… yes… a girl. Final answer.”

“I say a boy,” Arizona smiled.

“I’m gonna go with a boy as well,” Owen nodded with Arizona.

“What about you Evil Spawn?” Cristina asked. “What do you think the baby is gonna be?”

“I don’t really care to be honest,” Alex shrugged. “As long as my godchild is happy and healthy, I could care less… but I kind of hope it’s a girl.”

“Alright, stop messing around and open the envelope,” Meredith urged.

“Okay,” Jo took a deep breath and tore the envelope open, carefully removing the paper from inside. She unfolded it and gasped. “It’s a girl!”

“Pay up Grey!” Jackson held his hand out as Meredith grumbled and retrieved fifty bucks from her purse.

“It’s a girl!” Alex grinned brightly and wrapped Jo in a tight hug. “You’re having a Baby Girl Wilson.”

“You should name her Cristina,” Yang shouted across the room. “Cristina Wilson has a nice ring to it.”

“No way,” Jackson shook his head. “Her name is gonna be Avery Wilson. I’m the one who said she was gonna be a girl first.”

“You could always go with Robbin,” Arizona smiled. “It’s a sweet nature-y name.”

“If she names the baby after anyone, it’s going to be me,” Meredith rolled her eyes. “I’m the one who kept in contact with her and helped her all those years. Besides, she has so many options if she names the baby after me. There’s Meredith, Mary, Merella, Greyson, Greysie, Mere, and I could come up with a lot of really obscure ones if given the time.”

“Love the suggestions, but not happening,” Jo laughed at her friends. "I'm not going to name her after one of you and have the rest of you hate me for it later."

“Exactly. Jo’s not going to choose between one of you guys to name her child after,” Alex smirked. “Not when we all know that the baby is going to be named Alexandra after me, her Uncle Alex.”

“Shut up,” Jo shoved him playfully. “You’re lucky I’m even letting her call you Uncle Alex. I could revoke that privilege.”

“No you can’t. Because if you did, then I wouldn’t show you the stash of chocolate pudding you’ve been craving in the lounge fridge that no one else is allowed to touch.”

“You got me the pudding I’ve been craving?” Jo gasped.

“Sure did,” Alex opened the fridge to show her the stocked shelves full of multiple boxes of chocolate pudding. “There’s a sticky note with your name on the boxes so that no one takes them. Make sure you ration it wisely.”

Jo stared at the open fridge in joy. She threw her arms around Alex’s neck and hugged him tightly, “You are the best!”

“God, he’s whipped,” Cristina commented to the rest of the doctors quietly observing the pair. “He’s so whipped he doesn’t even realize it.”

“I mean, are you really that surprised?” Meredith shrugged one shoulder. “It’s Jo we’re talking about.”

“I always liked those two together,” Richard leaned against the wall. “I never understood why he married Stevens. Not that she wasn’t a great girl—because she was—but Karev and Wilson were always different.”

“Sometimes it takes you awhile to find your way back home,” Derek wrapped his arm around Meredith. “They’ll figure out eventually.”

“A hundred bucks says they’ll cave and get together after the baby is born,” Jackson placed a bet.

“One-fifty says they get together before the baby is born,” Callie pitched in.

“Two-hundred says they get together before she hits the thirty-week mark,” Arizona grinned.

“Oh please,” Cristina rolled her eyes. “It’s Karev and Wilson. Knowing them, they’re gonna end up having crazy monkey sex for a couple months until someone cracks and word-vomits all their feelings.”

“Two-fifty says they’re going to do it first and have feelings later,” Meredith stuck her hand out in a challenge.

“You’re on,” Jackson shook Meredith’s hand.

Oblivious to the conversation going on around them, Jo and Alex continued lost in their own little world as Jo opened one of the pudding packs. Jo let out a moan, “Hell yes. This is exactly what I’ve been craving.”

“Glad you and the baby are enjoying it,” Alex smiled at her proudly.

“Ooh! I almost forgot to ask, are you going to come with me to look at more houses today after work?”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Alex reached over to take a spoonful of her pudding, gaining a glare from Jo. “I don’t know why you’re so focused on trying to buy a house. Your apartment is really nice. It’s twenty minutes away from the hospital and five minutes away from me.”

“It’s a fifth floor studio apartment that has no elevator,” Jo scoffed. “I don’t exactly love the idea of having to carry my baby as well as groceries up five flights of stairs.”

“Good point,” Alex nodded. “Well, I’ve got surgery in twenty minutes, but I will see you later.”

“Sounds good,” Jo stuffed her face with another serving of chocolate pudding.

By the time the end of their shifts rolled around, Jo was utterly exhausted. Being in her second trimester, Jo was hoping that she’d gain some of her energy back soon. She’d seen plenty of moms that bounced back from various states of exhaustion once they made it past the twelve to fourteen week mark.

Jo was slumped against one of the benches outside the hospital when she heard Alex’s voice behind her, “Someone looks like they need a nap.”

“What I need is a foot rub. I just got out of a TTTS procedure and I don’t know why but my feet are burning,” Jo cast a sideways glance to Alex. “I just got off the phone with my real estate agent and guess what?

“What?” Alex asked as he sat down beside her.

“The house that I was considering has been sold.”

“Crap. Really?” Alex frowned. “What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” Jo shrugged. “All of the other houses in my budget are an hour and a half away from the hospital so that’s not going to work. I guess I’m just going to have to stay in my studio apartment.”

“Why don’t you just officially move into the house with me and Cristina? You’re there all the time anyway,” Alex suggested.

Jo looked at Alex strangely, “You do know I’m having a baby right?”

“I’m not stupid,” Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Don’t worry. I’ll help you with the crib.”

He obviously was not understanding what Jo was trying to say. Jo stared at him dumbfoundedly, “That's not what—Are you sure? I don’t think Cristina is gonna like having to live across the hall from a screaming baby in a few months. I don’t think you’re going to want to sleep across the hall from a screaming baby either.”

“Jo, I’m serious,” a genuine expression on Alex’s face. “Move in with us. Cristina is barely home, she’s not gonna care. If anything, she’ll be happy because now her rent is gonna go down.”

“I don’t know… it feels weird,” Jo wrinkled her brow in thought.

“Why would it be weird?” Alex asked honestly. “Jo, it’s a frat house. Mer always left that house open for whoever needed it and as long as I own it, I’m gonna do the same. It’s your home, and you’ll always have a place there if you need it.”

“You’re absolutely positive about this?”

“Yes, Jo. I’m positive,” Alex held her hand gently. “Move into the house. I want you there.”

Jo looked down at their interlocked hands shyly and sighed, “Okay.”

——————

- Your kiss, my cheek -

- I watched you leave-

16 Weeks

“Ugh,” Jo groaned in frustration as she threw another failed attempt at knitting a pair of baby booties at the wall of her bedroom, feeling hot tears running down her face.

“You okay?” Alex popped his head into the room only to see Jo laying there on the bed with tear-stained cheeks.

“No!” Jo cried. “I can’t get this stupid thing right. I am a maternal fetal surgeon who can perform complicated procedures on tiny babies in the womb but I can’t even knit a damn pair of booties for my baby.” Jo covered her face with her hands and let out a muffled shout. “I’m sorry. It’s the hormones… so many damn hormones.”

Alex cautiously took a seat on the bed. He placed a hand on her knee causing her to flinch, “Okay… but you’re not in pain or anything right?”

“No,” Jo shook her head, face still covered.

“Then what is it really? Because you can blame it all on the fact that you can’t knit to save your life, but that’s not really gonna help anyone,” Alex’s face twitched up into a grin. “Are you upset about something else? Are you craving something? Because I can run down to the store and get it for you.”

“I’m horny!” Jo shot up into a sitting position, more tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m really freaking horny but I can’t have sex because no one is gonna sleep with a pregnant lady and I just want to have sex Alex, but my baby’s father is a son of a bitch and he’s living across the country and wants nothing to do with us.”

Alex gingerly placed a hand on her back, patting it lightly as she let another frustrated cry into his shirt. With wide eyes and an unsure expression on his face, he decided to make a suggestion, “We can get you a vibrator?”

Jo whipped her head around to look at Alex who shrugged like a dumbass. She let out a huff and flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. He really was an idiot , Jo thought. She attempted to keep her focus on her breathing and the marks on the ceiling when she felt Alex’s hand make its way to her slightly curved belly. He rubbed small circles on it for some moments when she spoke up again.

“Alex.”

“Hmm?”

“I need you to leave.”

“What? Why?” Alex paused his movements to look at her strangely.

Jo groaned, “I need you to leave because I’m very horny and you’re still… very, very sexy and you just—you have to go before I jump your bones.”

Alex raised his eyebrows in amusement, looking as though he wanted to laugh. He really was trying his hardest to be a good friend, but he couldn’t help how funny he found the situation. Thinking of possible ways to help Jo out, Alex slowly moved his hand up from her small bump to her sensitive breasts, pinching her nipples slightly. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You sure you want me to leave?”

“I changed my mind. Please stay.”

Alex smirked smugly and placed a pillow behind Jo’s back, making sure she was in a comfortable position.

His hand reached underneath her oversized tshirt and brushed against her heat, eliciting a quiet gasp. His fingers found the waistband of her underwear, and he tugged them down as she lifted her ass, letting him pull them over her butt and down past her thighs. Then, lifting one leg at a time and tossing it somewhere on the floor behind him.

He took a moment to collect himself and stare down at her—because God, it had been years since he’d seen her this way and he wanted to savor this moment—before pushing her legs further apart, giving him much better access.

Alex could tell just by looking at Jo that she was already wet. She squirmed impatiently, giving him the perfect view of her glistening skin. Alex held back a groan. Everything within him was crying out to relive those old stolen moments in on-call rooms, the back of his car, and the occasional (but very few) times they were in this very house alone.

He decided to start with his finger, placing it against her and rubbing it up and down and side to side, feeling the dampness beneath his fingers and taking in the feel of her soft, warm folds. He made sure to stroke every inch of her, over and over, concentrating on making sure it was pleasing to her. He could tell by the slight hitches in her breathing that it was.

Jo had almost forgotten what it was like to be touched by Alex. She’d almost forgotten the feel of his thick fingers inside of her. She’d almost forgotten the way he could reduce her to a puddle of incoherent mumbles with just his hands. She was reminded of the stark power and dexterity of his hands as his finger explored her most intimate region.

Alex added a second finger and began to rub her faster and harder, this time going up to her clit and drawing his finger over it. At his touch, Jo made a kind of muffled sound. He went back to rubbing her, alternating his strokes between hard and soft, between slow and quick, repeating the process over and over, never staying with a rhythm for long enough that she would get used to it, listening carefully as her breathing became more shallow and her body quickly grew wetter until he was having trouble staying on her because of the slick.

Finally, he decided, it was time. Alex stroked his fingers downward, but instead of going back up as he had been doing, he slipped a finger inside her, pushing through the wet heat and taking in how amazing she felt around him. God, he had missed this. She was always so tight and hot, and he wanted to stay inside her forever.

His dick ached in his pants at the sound of her soft moans, but this was not about him or what he wanted. This was about Jo. Alex concentrated just on her, moving his finger in and out, pushing in as deeply as he could, slowly at first and then speeding up as he went on.

Jo groaned as he fucked her. “Yes,” she gasped, and closed her eyes. Her hands were fisting the comforter on either side of her. “Yes, Alex. Don’t stop.”

She didn’t need to tell him; he wouldn’t have stopped if his life depended on it. Not with the noises she was making.

He added a second finger, plunging both of them in and out of her, as deep as he could get them. She moaned again, her hips starting to grind against his hand, head tilted back in pleasure.

A feeling of pride spread through his whole body. Watching her starting to come undone and knowing he was the reason, was something else he didn’t think he could explain if anyone asked.

Alex thrust into her harder, curling his fingers up to reach the parts of her body that made her burn with desire. With his other hand, he let go of her leg and reached over and placed his palm firmly on her pelvis, positioning his hand in such a way that he could stroke her clit with this thumb.

Jo moaned, a strangled sort of sound, her hips jerking harder, and Alex did it again — stroking over her clit and curling his fingers deep inside her at the same time. He marveled at the obscene sounds from her mouth and her pussy. They were everything, but he wanted more.

Finally, he added a third finger inside of her and pressed down harder on her clit, and there it was. Jo moaned, and then she cried out, her back arching as her muscles clamped around Alex’s fingers inside her, “Oh my God… Alex...Alex! Ah!”

Alex continued thrusting his fingers in and out of Jo as she rode her climax. He watched as her body shuddered and as she was reduced to a series of whimpers. When Jo finally came back down from her high, Alex removed his fingers. He waited as her chest heaved up and down in an attempt to restore her breathing to normal.

Jo looked up and locked eyes with Alex. He stared at her intensely as he reached his hand back down to collect the wetness between her thighs. Jo let out a few soft whimpers at his touch. Jo felt her heart rate pick up as she watched him bring his hand out from between her legs and toy with the slick juices coating his fingers.

A mischievous smirk made its way onto Alex’s face. Alex brought his hand to his lips. He groaned as he sucked every drop of Jo’s release off his fingers slowly, trying to savor the taste of her. It took everything within him not to lean forward, bury his face between her thighs, and fuck her with his tongue so that he could taste her from the source.

Instead, Alex bent down and pressed a light kiss on her mound—causing her hips to buck up—before standing up. He looked at Jo with a shit-eating grin, “Feel better?”

Jo was struggling to come up with words as her body still trembled with the remnants of her climax. She nodded lamely and breathed out shakily, “Yeah.”

“Great,” Alex’s grin increased as he walked towards the door. “Well, glad I could be of service. I’d stick around but I’ve got a surgery scheduled for 7am tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Jo’s jaw dropped in shock at Alex’s casual exit. She took a moment to process what had just occurred and found herself growing aroused at the thought of it. She’d forgotten just how well Alex knew her body. She’d forgotten how good it could feel with him. She’d forgotten what it was like to crave him so badly that she felt she might combust. She didn’t know what this meant, but the one thing Jo knew for sure though, was that she was completely and utterly screwed.

——————

-When you're young, you just run-

-But you come back to what you need-

17 Weeks  

It had been a week since Alex had… assisted Jo. And ever since that day, Alex or more specifically, Alex’s fingers were just about the only thing Jo could think about. Her body thrummed with desire and frustration whenever the thought popped into her mind—which was often.

She’d blame it on the pregnancy hormones; making her crave sex, not sex with Alex. But after days of trying to satisfy her own needs and being unable to excite herself at the thought of another man, Jo realized that it wasn’t sex she wanted. What she wanted was sex with Alex. Lots of hot, dirty, delicious sex.

She wished the ground would swallow her whole to be completely honest. Not because she was embarrassed. No, Jo had never once felt embarrassed about desiring Alex. There was no need to be embarrassed, especially when she knew the desire was reciprocated. The reason she wished the ground would swallow her whole was because the little piece of shit—Alex—knew full well exactly the effect he had on her and he was doing absolutely nothing about it.

Well, absolutely nothing wasn’t entirely true. Alex had noticed Jo’s desire practically seeping out of her pores and had started taking every opportunity he could to be a damn tease. He’d brush his fingers against her at home, he’d flex the muscles in his arms and hands. He knew what the hell he was doing to her and would follow each display of teasing with a proud glint in his eye.

Today though, the situation seemed more charged than before. Today, Jo was stuck in an OR with Alex. One of her placenta previa patients had been experiencing some concerning pain for the past week. After various testing, Jo decided that delivering the fetus as soon as possible was the best course of action for everyone’s safety. Being that the mother was only thirty weeks into her pregnancy and the baby had been diagnosed with a heart defect in-utero, Jo knew that she had to have a peds surgeon ready to treat the child as soon as possible. She’d hoped for Arizona, but well, you don’t always get what you hope for.

That’s how she found herself standing over Alex’s shoulder in the NICU as he worked on the premature child. The mother had fared well and all but demanded that Jo go up to the NICU to personally evaluate the baby. So there she was, watching Alex’s large hands practically engulf the preemie as he held the little boy closely and adjusted some of the wiring.

I'm going to hell. Jo thought to herself. There is a sick baby and all I can think about is how big Alex’s hands are. Jo gulped quietly as Alex’s fingers twitched slightly. Yup, definitely going to hell.

After seeing that the baby was fine and taking a few pictures, Jo hurried back to her patient’s hospital room, “Hi Brenda. Little Gideon is doing great. Doctor Karev is there monitoring him, but it seems as though he is stable. I took you some pictures if you’d like to see.”

“Yes! Thank you,” Brenda answered teary-eyed. “I wish I could hold him.”

“You’ll be able to soon,” Jo comforted. “And trust me when I tell you, he’s in the best hands.”

“You understand, my worry, I mean? On top of it all, I’m doing this all alone,” Brenda motioned to Jo’s stomach. “How far along are you?”

“Seventeen weeks,” Jo replied. “And yes, I do understand. I’m also doing this alone. Just a little over a month and a half ago I had a scare myself. I started bleeding more than normal. But do you know who I was with when it happened and who helped me? Doctor Karev. And if my baby or I  were ever in any danger, he’s the first person I’d ask for. He’s the first person I’d trust to take care of us.”

“He’s good right? And I don’t just mean a good doctor. He’d obviously have to be a good doctor to work here. I guess what I want to know is, is he a good person?” Brenda leaned forward.

Jo chuckled at the woman’s question, “Yes. Alex is one of the best people I know.”

“Okay, okay, I think I feel a little better now,” Brenda nodded her head. Brenda looked lost in thought before she blushed lightly. “He’s really hot isn’t he? Dr. Karev? And this whole gig with the babies doesn't hurt him either. Please tell me you’ve hit that.”

“Brenda!” Jo laughed along with her patient.

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that,” Brenda smiled bashfully. “I just… Well, if I worked with that every day, I would’ve jumped him a long time ago.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jo shook her head in amusement. “I know this is unprofessional since I’m your doctor, but for your information, I have hit that before.”

Brenda gasped in excitement, “Really? When? How was it? Did it happen more than once?”

“It was fantastic,” Jo sighed as her mind became distracted with thoughts of she and Alex’s past hookups in this very hospital. “It was years ago. And yes, it happened more than once. It happened quite a few times.”

“I'm sorry. You are my doctor and I’m asking you about your sex life and you’re four months pregnant which I know means that you are really… frustrated right now and I am definitely not helping you,” Brenda winced apologetically.

“Definitely not helping me,” Jo huffed and shook her head, trying to get the horribly obscene thoughts out of her brain. “Anyway, Gideon is okay and Dr. Karev is taking great care of him. If we’re lucky, he won’t need to go into surgery to correct his heart until he gets a little stronger.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wilson,” Brenda called out as Jo walked over to the door. “Oh and Dr. Wilson!” Jo turned to face Brenda who had a bright smile on her face. “You should hit that again.”

Jo rolled her eyes, “I’ll think about it.”

The rest of the day, Jo was practically itching to get home. She checked the schedule on the board and saw that Alex would be home an hour after her and Cristina was on call tonight. As soon as her shift was over, she rushed to her car and drove quickly to the house. Immediately upon arriving, Jo went upstairs to the bathroom to shower and shave. On the drive home, Jo had resolved her decision to finally ask Alex for the one thing she’d been craving more than anything. So now, she was sitting on the side of the tub attempting to shave—a task she had been severely neglecting ever since her bump appeared.

Hearing Alex’s car pull up in the driveway, Jo toweled off quickly, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and hurrying down the stairs. She sat on a chair beside the staircase waiting for Alex to walk inside. Jo had been fidgeting and bouncing her leg anxiously when the door opened to reveal a confused Alex.

Jo jumped up from the chair, “We have the house to ourselves.”

“What?” Alex’s face scrunched up in question.

“We have the house to ourselves,” Jo repeated. “But I want you to know, that just because I’m about to jump into bed with you does not mean I’m some pregnant slut who has no morals. Because I do have morals. I have lots of them. But I’m also very, very—”

“No more talking,” Alex shushed her.

“Huh?”

Alex ran his hands down her body’s curves to grab her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist and picking her up effortlessly, gaining a startled gasp from the woman in his arms.

“Yes! Oh, thank God!”

He carried her up the stairs and into her room. The delicious rub of her body against he drew a groan from the back of his throat. In retaliation, he grazed a hand back up her body, slipping under her shirt and over the curve of her waist, groaning as he realized that she was completely bare underneath.

Impatient as ever, Jo pulled back from the kiss and yanked her shirt over her head. Alex pressed her against the nearest wall and reverently ran a hand over the newly exposed skin. Her breathing was labored. While he was distracted, Jo moved on to his shirt. Her hands lingered on his muscles as she slowly exposed each one. Her thighs clenched tighter to hold herself up as Alex raised his arms and he pressed his pelvis into hers. The movement earned him a stuttered gasp so he did it again.

Jo tossed his shirt carelessly to some lost corner of the room. Their lips met again in a desperate kiss, skin pressed to skin. Alex’s hand slid up her back, holding her to him. As he pulled them from the wall and moved to the bed, his other hand found its way to her breast and got his first handful of cleavage.

He thumbed her nipple. Jo whined and Alex repeated the motion as he lowered her to the bed. His mouth left hers and pressed more kisses across her jaw, down her neck, and paused at the juncture with her shoulder when she moaned and thrusted against him in response. Her fingers speared into his hair to hold him in place. The other hand guided his back to her breast to squeeze.

Her hand then returned to run down his chest. Her nails trailed over his nipples and she nipped his neck as her fingers reached the button of his jeans. With one motion, she opened his pants and slipped her hand inside his pants to cup him without anything in between them.

Alex sifted down the bed, pressing kisses down her body. He dragged his lips across her skin, kissing every inch of skin until he reached the juncture between her legs.  

“Alex,” Jo whined when he paused.

Alex chuckled and pressed a conciliatory kiss to her hip bone. He settled back between her legs, kissing along the soft, exposed skin of her thighs. Jo’s hands curled into his hair and tried to direct him to her center faster. He laughed against her skin and bit her thigh in retaliation.

“God,” Alex breathed out, dangerously close to her hot center. “I’ve been thinking about this all damn week.”

“So have I,” Jo replied shakily.

Alex’s hands ran up and down her thighs as he pressed kisses along her bump and pelvis, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Alex, I swear to God, if you don’t—” She never got to finish her threat, cut off when his mouth found her pussy. “Oh, fuck, Alex!”

He used his fingers to spread her open as he lapped at her entrance, pressed into her, taking his cues from the way her hands in his hair, the sounds she made, and the movement of her hips. His tongue swirled up to her clit, varying speed and strength. He started with a single finger, slipping it into her wet warmth with ease. At her encouragement, he added a second. After a few sample thrusts, he crooked his fingers to find the spongy flesh that made her keen.

Alex groaned against her, adding a third finger. Jo tensed under him as he built her right up to the ledge and then stopped. Jo whined as he distanced himself, watching in fascination as her pussy clenched around nothing. His thumb grazed her labia and Jo jerked at the sensation.

“Alex,” Her plea conveyed in a single word.

He let his thumb strum her labia again, “What do you want, Jo?” He rubbed his cock against the bed, hoping the friction will relieve some of the building tension. He lightly stroked her again. “You’re going to have to be specific.”

“Make me come.”

“More specific,” Alex teased as he leaned forward and let his breath exhale across her skin.

Emboldened by Alex’s urging, Jo huffed at him, “Make me come with your mouth. Use your fingers until I gush around you, and then fuck me until I come again.”

Alex’s attention flew directly on her clit, teasing it with his tongue as he thrust three fingers in and out, pressing against that spot that made her see stars. Jo dragged his other hand up to clench around her breast as she chanted, “Yes, yes, oh, God, Alex, there, there, fuck, Alex, I’m coming!”

She shuddered under him, coming with a spasm around his fingers. He pulled his fingers out and sat up. He yanked her by the thighs toward him. He lifted her legs up, wrapped them around his waist, and thrust himself deep into her, groaning as he felt her still clenching around him.

The moment he was inside her, it was like a once black and white world exploding with color. It was electrifying and consuming, to the point that neither Jo or Alex really dared to move out of fear of ruining this perfectly good moment. This feeling that neither one of them had experienced since the last time they were joined this way over three and a half years ago.

Jo’s thighs clenched to hold her in place and Alex leaned forward. Her insides fluttered as Alex slid both hands under her and lifted Jo so she hovered over him, gravity forcing her down on his cock. With each thrust, she rocked against him, rubbing against all of him. She whimpered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Alex turned so he could sit on the edge of the bed as Jo rode him, desperate and needy. His hand slipped between them to rub against her clit as he got close to orgasm. Jo grabbed his face and sealed her lips to his in a messy kiss that tasted like her, as she climaxed again and he fell over the edge with her.

They both collapsed back against the bed, sweaty and breathless. Alex ran a hand up over her back in soothing strokes as Jo tried to catch her breath. He wasn’t not doing so hot on the breathing himself, but the softness of her skin was soothing, as is the scent of her that surrounds them along with the musty aroma of sex.

They were silent as they came back down from their highs. Neither one brave enough to voice their thoughts even though they both had the same exact thing running through their brains: holy crap.

Not because it was bad. Definitely not because it was bad. It was because it was good. Really good. Too good. It was too good, too much, too overwhelming, too intimate. It wasn’t the kind of sex you had with a one night stand or even a friend. No, this was the kind of sex you had with the person who knew you better than anyone. This was the kind of sex you had with a lover.

But Jo and Alex wouldn’t admit that. No, admitting something as cataclysmic as that would complicate things. It would put a strain on the friendship that they were still trying to carefully rebuild. So, Jo filed the feelings she was feeling away in her brain as a result of the pregnancy hormones, while Alex blamed their history and unfinished business on the sudden onset of his desire for more than this.

There wasn’t any room for feelings. Especially when neither one of them wanted to give this up. They could do it. They could separate the emotion from the action. They could be sex friends. Yes, that’s exactly what they would be: sex friends.

——————

-This love is good-

-This love is bad-

-This love is alive back from the dead, oh, oh, oh-

21 Weeks

“Hey, you okay?”

Jo looked up from her spot on her bed to see Alex standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a concerned expression on his face. She shook her head slightly, “Not really. I’m sad.”

“Well, you know I wouldn’t mind cheering you up,” Alex wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he walked closer to the bed. “Take your mind off things for a while. I could do that thing with my tongue that you really like.”

Jo chuckled, “No, but thanks for the offer. I could really use a friend, though.”

Alex removed his shoes and laid down beside her, propping himself up on his elbow as she turned on her side to face him. Alex reached to hold her hand, “What’s going on?”

“I felt the baby kick for the first time today,” Jo’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I’ve felt her flutter before but today was the first time I actually felt her kick. She’s kicking right now if you want to feel.”

Jo positioned Alex’s hand over her belly and waited for her daughter to kick again. Seconds later, Alex was  met with a strong kick against his hand. Alex gasped excitedly and leaned down towards Jo’s stomach, “Hey baby girl Wilson. You’ve got a strong set of legs right there.”

Jo’s eyes widened as she felt another series of strong kicks, “She likes you.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Alex turned his attention back to the spot where the kicks were coming from. “Like mother, like daughter I guess.” Alex felt a slap on his head. “Hey! It’s the truth. Anyway, be good for your momma okay? No more scares like the ones you gave us a couple months ago. And try not press on her bladder too much. Just focus on growing and getting strong. Uncle Alex can’t wait to meet you.”

Jo felt a couple tears slip down her cheeks. She was still getting used to seeing Alex like this. Sure, even before he’d always been sweet and kind to her, but this softness was definitely something she felt privileged to see. Before, he’d been more cocky and callous, arrogant and closed-off. However, peds had changed him. He lived and breathed for the children he took care of. Jo could see that clear as day. And there wasn’t one moment that went by where she didn’t feel immensely grateful for the opportunity to know this side of him as well.

Alex straightened and laid back down on the bed next to Jo, bringing her close. He ran his hand along her back and spoke, “You gonna tell me why you’re sad?”

“I just…” Jo sighed. “Feeling her kick today just made everything real. I’m having a baby and I’m going to be raising her alone.” She paused and her eyes watered. “I felt her kick today and my first instinct was to call Jason. I don’t even know why. I kind of hate him if I’m being honest. He’s one of the worst guys I’ve ever been with and that’s saying something because I have been known to have... questionable taste in men. But I felt her kick and I just—I couldn’t stop thinking about how she will never know her father. She’ll never have a father to take her to daddy-daughter dances, or protect her from the monsters under her bed, or intimidate all of her boyfriends. She’ll never have a father that shows her an example of how she should expect to be treated and respected and cared for and loved. All she’ll have is me.” Jo sniffled and wiped a straying tear. “I think back to my own childhood and think of the rejection I felt. The rejection I still feel. I never want her to feel that. But sometimes, I’m afraid I won’t be enough. That even with all my love and support, she’ll still feel like something—or someone is missing and that she’ll blame herself for that.”

“When I was a kid, all I wanted was for someone to care. It didn't matter who, just that they cared," Alex started. "My mom was sick, so most of the time, l was taking care of her and my siblings. And my dad, well let's just say that even when he was around, he might as well not have been. For a lot of time I resented him, still do if I'm being honest. But that's because even though my mom was supposed to be the one in charge, I was the single parent." Alex placed his hand on Jo's stomach again and was rewarded with another set of kicks. "This little girl is never going to know anything but love and care. She already has it so different than you or I ever had it. She’s got people in her corner and she hasn’t even been born. You may be a single mom, but that doesn't mean your family is any less whole. You can't control now she'll feel, but don't ever think that you aren't already a good enough mother."

“How the hell do you always know exactly what to say?” Jo wiped a few tears off her cheeks.

“Guess I’m just fluent in Jo Wilson,” Alex shrugged, a smile on his face.

“I missed this,” Jo whispered after a few more minutes. “All those years I was gone? I missed just talking to you and hugging you and laying down next to you. And now that I’m here and you’re here, I don’t ever want to leave again. I know I’d be okay if I moved, but I would never truly be happy. I know that now more than ever. I’d miss you too much.”

“I’d miss you too,” Alex pressed a kiss on her forehead. “But it’s a good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, because I plan on seeing this little girl grow up. Which reminds me of something actually.”

Alex reached to grab a bag he’d set down on the foot of the bed when he’d laid down next to Jo. He opened it and took out a green onesie that said, “ My uncle is the coolest.” He showed it Jo with a big smile on his face, “Ta da. Figured I’d buy this for her now, since I already know she’s going to prefer me to everyone else.”

“Oh my god, Alex,” Jo’s hand flew up to her mouth and she let out a laugh. “I love it. This is her first onesie.”

“Really?” Alex raised his eyebrows. “Huh, well, everything else is just going to have to try to measure up to the awesomeness of this one.”

“Shut up,” Jo grinned and rolled her eyes. “I really do love it. But why do I have a feeling that she’s actually going to like you more than she likes me?”

“What can I say? The Wilson ladies love me,” Alex smirked.

“We sure do.”

——————

-This love left a permanent mark-

-This love is glowing in the dark, oh, oh, oh-

24 Weeks

“What’s up with you?” Meredith asked as she peered through the doorway of the nursery Alex was currently painting. “Are you surprising Jo with a nursery? Is this why you called me?”

“She’s been stressed and I wanted to do something nice for her and the baby,” Alex explained as he continued to coat the walls with the light gray paint. “I read in one of those baby books that the parents left lying around in the NICU that light gray walls are supposed to calm babies and help them sleep through the night so I decided on this with teal, white, and light pink accents.”

Meredith’s jaw dropped in shock, “You decided on a paint scheme?”

“Well, I asked Kepner and Robbins for help,” Alex looked over his shoulder at his friend. “They picked out the colors and gave me pictures to go off of. I can’t paint it all by myself though, so I called you. I would’ve asked Cristina, but you know Yang isn’t going to spend her day off painting a nursery. Plus, she decided to go to that conference in Portland this weekend. Besides, you’ve got a daughter so I figured you’d know what little girls like better.”

“Alex,” Meredith sighed. “Why are you doing this? Are you trying to win her back? Because it doesn’t really work like that.”

“No, no, this has nothing to do with winning her back,” Alex waved his hand in protest. “Well, I mean it would be nice if I could win her back, but that’s not why I’m doing this.” Alex paused as he figured out what he was trying to say. “I’m just trying to be a good friend… all I can think about every time I see her, glowing and smiling as she holds her belly, is how much I screwed up. I screwed up so bad all those years ago and now she’s having another man’s baby.” Alex looked down at his hands. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be that man. To be beside her throughout the whole process, to get excited and plan for what’s to come, to cry as I hold our child in my arms for the first time. But I was stupid and I practically ripped her heart out, and now she’s too afraid to go any further with me. Because it’s not just her anymore. She’s got a daughter to think about now. Her daughter will always come first. And that’s how it should be. I just… I wish Jo was having our daughter.”

Meredith placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder, “You really never stopped loving her.”

“Nope,” Alex let out a breath. “And this… arrangement or whatever we have going on is great. Really. It’s fun and it feels like us. But I want so much more, Mer. I want everything with her and I can’t have everything because I was a dumbass.”

“Give her time,” Meredith ran a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. “She loves you. I know that much. Don’t try too hard. Just keep being Alex, and one day hopefully she’ll want more. Now, give me a paint brush so I can get started on the accent wall. We don't need you messing up the lines and smudging the paint."

Alex rolled his eyes and handed Meredith a brush, "Shut up and get to work."

Five hours and a few arguments later, Alex and Meredith were putting the finishing touches on the new nursery as they waited for Jo's arrival.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Alex fidgeted nervously as he stared at the completed space. "You don't think it's too much right?"

"Alex, calm down," Meredith chuckled. "She's going to love it."

"You think? You don't think she'll be upset that I did it all without her?"

"Are you kidding?" Meredith laughed. "Jo loves surprises. She's also six months pregnant and is a blubbering emotional, hormonal mess half the time. She's going to cry happy tears when she realizes there is one less thing on her plate. As a fellow pregnant, hormonal lady, I think this just might get you laid."

“Shut up,” Alex finally let out a laugh that settled his nerves. “Okay, get out of here. She’s gonna be here in a few minutes and see your car in the driveway.”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving,” Meredith grabbed her things and headed towards the front door. She was about to step outside when she turned to look at her friend. “Alex.”

Alex looked at Meredith expectantly, “What is it?”

“I’m proud of you,” Meredith said, a playful smile on her face. “You’re acting very grown up.”

Alex could feel the blush make its way on his face as his lips curled into a bashful grin, “Stop it.”

“Let me know how it goes!”

Alex watched Meredith leave and moved to sit on the couch. He waited anxiously for Jo to arrive home. He jumped up when he saw her car finally make its way up the driveway. Alex was waiting by the door when she walked in, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Jo looked at him strangely. “What’s going on with you?”

“I have something to show you. A surprise,” Alex breathed out.

“A surprise?” Jo raised an eyebrow. “Ooh! Is it that ice cream that I’ve been craving all week?”

“No, it’s not ice cream,” Alex shook his head in amusement. “It’s upstairs.”

“Okay…” Jo observed him for a moment. “Well then, lead the way.”

Jo followed Alex closely as he guided her up the stairs to the bedroom that had been sitting empty for the past few months. Alex placed his hand on the doorknob, “So, I did something and I don’t know… maybe you’ll love it, maybe you’ll hate it. Anyway, I worked hard on it and I hope that it’s everything you could’ve dreamed of.”

Jo gasped as Alex opened the door to the guest room—now nursery. She stepped in and spent the next few minutes taking it all in. Tears collected in her eyes as she walked around the room and traced her hands along the edge of the walls, the crib, the rocking chair, the changing table, the twin bed in the corner for her to use during the first weeks after the baby was born, and the various other pieces that Alex had purchased in an effort to prepare the room.

“You did this all by yourself?” Jo asked after a few minutes of just staring at all his hard work in awe.

“It was my idea, but I had some help,” Alex shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Kepner and Robbins helped me pick the color scheme, Cristina bought the rocking chair, Hunt gave me the day off, Meredith helped me paint and put the furniture together. It was a team effort.”

Jo lurched forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, “Thank you.” Jo whispered tenderly and wiped a couple tears. “I can’t believe you do this for me. For us.” Jo placed a hand on her swollen stomach. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

“I want you guys to have everything,” Alex’s flit back and forth between Jo’s mouth and eyes. “You deserve all this and more. Both of you do. I swear, as long as I’m around, my goddaughter is never going to want for anything. Because between you and me, she’s gonna be spoiled rotten.”

Jo was about to say something when they were interrupted by the doorbell. Alex straightened and walked downstairs, “I’ll get it. Why don’t you take a shower and relax? I’ll order takeout from that restaurant down the street while you get comfortable.”

Jo nodded quietly and made her way to the bathroom to get showered. For weeks now, Jo had been fighting with herself and her feelings towards Alex. Her resolve was slowly wearing down and in truth, it had been since the moment she’d arrived back in Seattle. Everything within her burned for Alex. And the sex arrangement they’d had going on for the past two months certainly did not help matters. Because as much as Jo tried to convince herself that it had to be the hormones making her feel this way, it was never just sex with Alex.

It had always been so much more—at least on her part. Every time she kissed him, every time she touched him, every time she laid in bed beside him, waiting until he fell asleep so she could leave, Jo found herself getting lost in the daydreams, thinking about what life would be life if she were just a little braver and gave into what her heart wanted more than anything.

Because it was true. She wanted Alex and a life with Alex more than anything. But Jo was afraid to allow herself to fall for him completely again because she knew how hard it was the last time when it ended. The last time hurt like hell. The last time, she ended up leaving Seattle. The last time, she lost a part of herself. The fear of things ending like they did the last time was almost always enough to reel her back in and sway her to decide against going any further with the man she was sure was the love of her life. This time though, she wasn’t so sure it would be enough.

Finishing her shower and burying those thoughts in the back of her mind, Jo toweled off and put on a pair of sweatpants and one of the old tshirts she’d stolen from Alex when her belly outgrew hers. She threw her damp hair into a half-hazard braid and made her way down the hall. Pausing in the doorway of the new nursery, Jo smiled again. Not seeing Alex inside, she walked out into the hallway and called out his name.

“Alex?”

“In here.”

Jo turned down the hall toward his bedroom, hearing the shuffling of a couple items as she neared the door, “Hey, who was that at the door earlier?”

Alex looked over his shoulder, “Oh it was the delivery truck. This came in a little late, so I’m setting it up now.”

Finally setting her gaze on what he was working on, Jo sucked in a surprised gasp. There in front of her very eyes, Alex was setting up the bassinet in his room.

Unsure of the meaning of his actions, Jo spoke, “What’s this?”

“Oh, I—uh, I bought it so I could help you when the baby is here. You know, in case you ever want to take a break or just need a goodnight’s sleep, I can help with the baby too,” Alex shrugged, looking up at her as if the words that he’d just spoken so nonchalantly were of little importance. “It’s a pretty cool bassinet too. One of the nurses in peds recommended it to me. You know Marissa? The one with five kids? She told me that—”

Alex’s voice faded into the background as Jo became lost in thought. This can’t be real. Guys don’t just do these things for their friends. Jo felt herself become increasingly emotional as she processed the significance of Alex’s actions. He’s all in with me. He’s all in with this baby that’s not even his. He’s here and he hasn’t left and he’s not going to leave because he loves me. That may have been the most startling realization. It really shouldn’t have been that surprising that Alex had never stopped loving her, not for one moment. But for some reason, Jo felt her heart swell at the knowledge that all this time, he’d just been waiting patiently for her to let him know when she was ready for more.

Realizing that Alex was still speaking, Jo looked back up at his stupid, perfect, beautiful face and opened her mouth to try express the rush of emotions that had just hit her like a thousand bricks. Rendered speechless, Jo did what she knew best. She showed him.

Jo interrupted Alex’s nervous rambling by placing both hands on his face and pressing her head against his own. She took a deep breath and stared deeply into Alex’s confused eyes. Mustering up what little courage she had left, Jo leaned forward and kissed him.

Despite his initial surprise, Alex reciprocated quickly. His arms wrapped around her body quickly, pulling her to him as closely as he could possibly get. Sure, they’d kissed before, but this was different. This kiss wasn’t just a result of built up sexual tension or lust. This kiss was pure love, passion, devotion, and emotion all rolled up into one. He was practically thrumming with awe at the sensation and demonstrated every ounce of his love for her in that kiss as he could.

When they finally pulled away, Alex looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. He watched as Jo opened and closed her mouth dumbly a few times before interjecting, “You okay there? You look a little speechless. I mean, I know I'm a great kisser but it’s nice to get that validation every once in a while.” Alex smirked as his little quip eased the tension between them, immediately making Jo feel more comfortable.

“Alex,” Jo breathed out a laugh and felt tears prickle at her eyes. “Why would you do all of this for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Jo looked at the sincerity in his eyes and left her own pool with water, “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Alex nodded. “I wanted to. Because… I love you, Jo. You know that.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Jo wiped a tear that had made its way down her cheek.

“Of course you do,” Alex’s hands found her stomach and rested comfortably on her bump. “You and this baby deserve all the love in the world. There isn’t anything you could do that would make me want to stop loving you.”

Jo let out a sob, “There’s something I need to tell you. Something that I’ve been wanting to say for months now, but I was never brave enough to say it. I want to be brave now.”

“You know that you can tell me anything,” Alex’s eyes bored into hers intensely.

“Okay… I’m, uh… I𑁋” Jo stuttered awkwardly.

“I don’t hear anything,” Alex chuckled as Jo struggled to find the words.

“Shut up!” Jo looked at him exasperatedly. “I’m freaking out enough as it is.”

“Okay, but𑁋”

“I’m serious,” Jo pouted, prompting Alex to laugh.

“Fine,” Alex schooled his expression and waited until she found her voice again.

“I love you,” Jo confessed, heart racing wildly inside her chest. “I’m in love with you, Alex. I’ve been in love with you ever since that first night when you kissed me in the rain outside Joe’s bar after we passed our intern exams. I’ve loved you since then and I haven’t stopped loving you. Yes, you hurt me more than anyone ever has, but you’ve also loved me more than anyone I’ve ever known. And it's not just a fleeting love, it's pure love. It’s a true love. It’s all the things I had always dreamed of as a little girl. I won’t pretend it’s been easy loving you, because loving you isn’t something I just fell into. It was a choice I made, a choice I continue to make every single day because loving you comes to me as natural as breathing. I can’t seem to let go of our past promises and dreams, so I want the chance to realize our forever. And I want to try, but I mean, actually try this time. No more messing around or pretending like we're content with just being friends. I want more with you Alex. All I know is I want you just because you’re you and we’re us. I want everything with you.”

Alex’s face soon mirrored Jo’s as tears began to fall from his eyes. He pressed their foreheads together, noses brushing against each other. He closed his eyes, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Alex laughed joyfully. “I love you so much that sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe. Throughout my life I’ve been with a lot of nobodies, but you’re not a nobody. You’re my person. You’re the love of my life. And yeah, I probably sound like the stupidest, cheesiest, guy on the face of the earth right now, but I don’t care. I don’t care if I look like a fool. I’ll look like the biggest idiot on the planet if it meant that you’d finally understand how much I love you. How much I want you. How much I need you. I need you, Jo and I don’t ever want to be without you.”

Despite the tears currently running down her face, Jo smiled shyly, “So, is this what I think it is? Does this mean we’re trying?”

“Hell yes,” Alex kissed her soundly. “It’s you and me against the world from now on.”

They were interrupted by a round of kicks against their palms, causing the two of them to laugh. Alex knelt down in front of Jo’s bump, “I’m sorry, Baby Wilson. What I meant was me, your mom and you against the world.”

Alex’s response to Jo’s belly garnered another kick. Jo rolled her eyes, “Oh gosh. She really does like you better than she likes me.”

“She’s just jealous,” Alex smirked. “I have that effect on the ladies.”

Jo laughed, “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Alex challenged, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You’re gonna regret having said that,” Jo warned as she pushed him over to the bed.

“You know, I don’t think I will.”

-These hands had to let it go free, and-

-This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh-

Were you expecting any of what just happened? Lol let me know what you thought and anything you like to see. Also, send me baby name suggestions!