#i wanted to try something new but. it’s not going well so far

[scribblesofagoonerr]

flu season | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: monkey's sick with the flu and she refuses to admit it, putting her own life in jepordy.

pairings: reader!monkey x leah williamson x reader!buddy x arsenal wfc

You’ve always been too stubborn and being sick definitely wasn’t any different, today certainly wasn’t any different not when it was the first game of the new season.

You weren’t going to let the dumb flu stop you from playing football.

Even if your head was currently pounding and your body ached a ridiculous amount, of course you weren’t going to say anything about it.

“Is that yummy, bubba?” Leah had her attention focused on Buddy, who was making a sticky mess eating pancakes, “Look at your face. It’s a good job we’ve got time for a bath before we head out.” She laughed.

“Bath!” Buddy squealed, clapping her hands excitedly before shoving a piece of syrup-soaked pancake toward your mouth, “Monkey, ‘ou want some?”

You grimaced, shaking her head in disagreement, “No thanks, Buddy,” The sickly-sweet smell of maple syrup was too much to handle right now, “You can keep your pancakes to yourself.”

“Try!” Buddy was still determined to get you to eat some of it.

“No I don’t want to,” You murmured in disagreement.

“Bubba, Monkey doesn’t want to share your pancakes. You just eat them, okay?” Leah gently tells your favourite little buddy.

“Okay Mummy,” Buddy pouted, her little face looking sad and you hated being the one to disappoint her.

“You feeling okay, Monkey?” Leah asked, concern etched on her face as she’s watching you slumped over at the table and trying to force your own breakfast down your throat, “You don’t look that good, my girl.”

Lifting your head up from the table, you can already feel your eyes beginning to droop shut again, “Oh yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” You murmur, trying to project a confidence that you certainly don’t feel.

That’s a complete lie, you’re anything but fine right now.

Leah furrows her eyebrow in further concern, “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” You insisted, a half-hearted smile creeping onto your lips, as if that would convince the both of you.

Leah wasn’t buying it though apparently, “It’s okay to admit that you’re not feeling well,” Leah reminds you gently, walking over to you as a trick way to try and rest the back of her hand on your forehead but you flinch away from it, “If you’re feeling ill then it’s okay. You don’t need to pretend you’re fine, you know?”

“I’m fine,” You dodge her wavering hand and fake another smile as you know exactly what she’s trying to do, “See? Totally fine.”

“Monkey,” Leah sends you a weary look.

“I’m fine, Le!” You continue to insist and get up from the table, “I’m going to get ready anyways. First game of the season, exciting right?” It literally felt like you had mustered all the energy you had for that, but you were pretty convincing if you do say so yourself.

“Okay,” Leah exhales a sigh, shaking her head and allowing you to wander off upstairs to get ready, knowing you better than you think and knowing there was definitely something wrong with you.

The car ride to the training ground was a chance for Leah to try and get it out of you again as she wasn’t ready to drop it, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Monkey?” She pressed for an answer.

It didn’t take a genius to notice that you weren’t definitely not feeling your usual cheeky self nor did you have a pep in your step like normal. You were far less erratic when it came to things.

That was the first telltale sign that you weren’t feeling well at all.

The second, the visible beads of sweat coming radiating off your forehead.

“I told you I’m fine, Le. Stop fussing over me, will you?” The snap in your voice was unintentional, but the constant questions were grating on your nerves.

You’re fine, you are– It’s just the flu. It’s not a big deal.

Leah glanced over, her concern deepening, “I’m just looking out for you, Monkey. I just want to make sure that you’re not putting yourself in harm,” She paused as she pulled up at a set of traffic lights, “Think about your health, my girl.”

“Told you that I’m fine,” You argued, feeling defensive.

You weren’t missing out on the opportunity to play in the opening game, even if you did feel completely miserable.

“Are you really?” Leah’s voice softened, but the worry still remained.

“It’s just a cold, Leah. I can still play,” You tugged your hoodie over your head, ignoring the way the dizziness washed over you and you pretended to be fine.

The last thing you want right now is Leah fussing over you, or worse, pulling you out of the match.

You just had to convince her that you were fine but that was difficult when the blonde was practically watching over you like a hawk.

You’re not missing out on this one. No way!

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah murmured, cautiously aware that you playing today wouldn’t be a good idea at all, “Why don’t you just give this one a miss? It’s just one game.”

“NO!” You exclaimed, not meaning to come across as abrupt as you said it, “I mean… I have to play, I have too– I’m not letting anyone down!”

“You wouldn’t be letting anybody down,” Leah stated, in a gentle but firm tone of voice, “Your health matters first, Monkey. Everybody will understand if you’re sick.”

“I’m not missing it and you can’t make me!” You shouted, making a beeline to escape the car once you arrived at the training grounds before Leah had even had a chance to stop her car, “So back off!”

“Monkey! Get back here, we’re not done with this conversation yet!” Leah shouted, enraged as she quickly turned the ignition off on the car, “Monkey!” She repeated.

You completely ignored the way your head pounded or how your limbs felt like they were weighted down with sand, along with the slight tremor in your hands as you made your way over to your best friend, Kyra who had joined during the summer transfer window and the two just hit it off straight away.

“What’s got Leah looking so annoyed?” The young Australian questioned, confused as she spotted the blonde looking less than pleased, “I mean she always looked slightly annoyed, but what did you do this time?” She joked.

“Nothing it doesn’t matter,” You murmured, trying to ignore the pounding in your head and force yourself to stay standing up.

“Alright, so are you ready for today?” Kyra’s loud voice caught you off guard, swinging her arm around your shoulder and you couldn’t help but stumble slightly, “First game of the season today!”

You winced at the loudness of her voice, “Ky, could you maybe not speak so loud?”

Kyra furrowed her eyebrow and looked up and down, “You don’t look so good there, mate,” She noted, “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” The lie rolled off your tongue, even though your body was screaming otherwise, “It’s just a little cold, Leah wants me to not play in today’s match but she’s overreacting about it.”

“Monkey!” Speaking of the devil and she shall appear, Leah walked over to you with Buddy in her arms, dressed in a full kit of this seasons’ jersey with a large puffer coat over the top to protect her from the unpredictable English weather, “We weren’t finished with our conversation.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were done,” You feigned ignorance to the conversation, trying to block her out since she would just keep trying to change your mind about playing in the game.

Not on your watch were you missing it.

Leah clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Unbelievable,” She muttered in disbelief as she placed Buddy down to toddle over to Lia when she had spotted her,  “We’re not done talking about this.” She said in a firm tone of voice.

“Wonderful. I look forward to us finishing it,” You deadpanned, avoiding Leah’s watchful gaze as you tried to engage in conversation with Kyra, Alessia and Vic, “So, who’s excited for the game?” You tried to pretend to be excited, but your energy felt even further weak than before.

You weren’t missing this game, not at all.

You were lucky enough that Leah decided to make her own way to the stadium with Buddy in her car, it meant you were able to escape the hawkeye watch.

At least you were for now until you arrived at the Emirates stadium ahead of kick off.

By the time you arrived at the Emirates, you felt completely wiped out as you made your way inside and it took all your energy to even muster a smile and wave at the staff around.

“Are you alright, Monkey?” Alessia caught the way you stumbled getting off the bus and looked at you concerned.

“I’m alright,” You murmured quietly and tried to pretend like you were indeed feeling fine.

You were the complete opposite of “fine” right now.

“You don’t look fine,” Kyra chipped in, her own voice filled with concern as she draped her arm around you to help keep you standing up right, “You’re literally swaying right now.”

“I’m alright,” You repeated, still trying your best to convince yourself more than anyone else, “Please don’t say anything right now, I’ve literally had to convince Le I’m fine and if she hears me admit it then she’ll make me miss out on the game.”

The Australian girl continued to look further worried, “But you’re sick?” She questioned.

“Shh,” You were quick to place your hand over her mouth to stop her talking any further, “I’m fine, I’m completely fine, Ky.” You told her.

“Alright,” Kyra said, reluctantly agreeing with you as she kept her arm wrapped around your shoulder, “But you should probably avoid Leah if you’re trying to convince her because right now you look like you’re about to drop down right here.”

“Yeah,” You murmured in agreement, lacking the energy to be playful like usual.

Well that would have been easier to do if she weren’t standing there as part of the welcoming committee, although you couldn’t help but smile in awe when you see Buddy standing beside her and holding her hand out, copying Leah’s exact actions with the players.

Your favourite little buddy certainly was Leah’s mini me, looks and mannerisms completely.

“High five, Monkey!” Buddy chirped excitedly, vibrating with excitement as she bounced on her toes.

Kneeling down slightly, you winced as you felt the aching shoot through your body as you exchanged high fives’ with the 2 year old, before having the task of standing back up and trying to not stumble and go dizzy again.

“Monkey,” Leah greeted you with a kind smile, very much aware of the cameras’ on display that would no doubt be featured somewhere, “C’mere my girl.”

You knew exactly what she was doing when she enveloped you in a hug but there was no way to escape it and there was no way you could get out of this one.

Leah was quick to rest the back of her hand against your forehead and frown, “Monkey, you’re burning up,” She stated, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to play.” She said, her voice low to not gather too much attention around her.

“I’m fine,” You pulled away from her and flashed a fake smile before continuing to make your way in the direction of the pitch to go and inspect it, dragging Kyra along with you.

You had been incredibly excited about this opening game, it was special with thousands of fans flocking in to witness it.

“Look at the pitch,” You heard Katie’s loud voice as she walked past you, and it made you wince in pain.

Was it really a good idea to play? Sure, what’s the harm that can happen?

“Let’s go girls,” Kim led the team out onto the pitch to begin the warm-ups ahead of the game while the absent players were sitting on the bench and mingling between them.

You were sauntering out of the tunnel when Leah caught hold of your wrist, “Monkey,” She began while giving you a firm look, “You and I both know that you’re sick and playing in this game isn’t a good idea.” She stated, promptly.

“Who’s sick?” You attempted to play dumb, pulling your wrist out of her grasp and making your way onto the pitch to warm up with the rest of them,  “Told you, I’m fine. See? I’m just peachy.”

Joining the team to run the drills, you pushed yourself to keep up even when your body begged you to slow down. You could feel the sweat trickling down your back and the light headedness was slowly starting to creep back in, but you refused to acknowledge it so you could continue to warm up.

You weren’t about to let anybody down today.

During every single drill, you could feel your body protesting more loudly but you had to keep the facade going, grinning through it all.

You weren’t about to be seen as weak, especially not today.

“Is she okay?” Beth questioned in concern, apparently she was able to see through your act, “She doesn’t seem like her usual self.” She added, noticing the slow pace you had while taking part in the drills with the rest of the team.

“She really doesn’t,” Viv piped in as Buddy sat on her lap and excitedly chatted her ear off.

You felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over you but you tried to shake your head and clear it– You’re fine, you just need to push through it.

Apparently, everyone else could see the facade that you were putting on.

“Monkey’s sick and she’s being stubborn apparently,” Leah exhaled a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she continued to keep a watchful eye on you, “I didn’t want her to play, it’s not a good idea, but of course she’s very much against the idea.”

“Of course she is,” Beth murmured, shaking her head, “Can’t you do anything about it though? She’ll listen– Maybe you could tell Jonas and he can make the decision to bench her.”

You tried to keep pushing on, keeping up the pace with your teammates but you’re slipping.

Ten minutes in and you can feel it– the fever, the exhaustion, the weight of your body dragging you down.

“Or there’s Kim,”  Viv chimed in, gesturing to your Captain who’s not too far away from where you stood.

It happened so fast, one moment you were sprinting down the pitch and the next, your legs gave out way beneath you and you collapsed onto the grass, the cold ground grounding you and everything fading into darkness.

“I guess so– Oh my God, Monkey!” Leahs’ eyes were frantic as she bolted up from her seat, watching the moment that your legs gave out beneath you and sent you crashing to the ground.

“Monkey!” Lia is the nearest to Monkey as she panicked and dropped to her side before her eyes scanned around looking for Leah, “Leah! Over here!”

“Get the medics, now!” Kim shouted, the panic laced in her own voice.

“Monkey!” Leah rushed to your side as she crouched down beside you, “Monkey! Can you hear me?” You felt her strong arms lift you off the ground, “I’m here, I’m right here, my girl.”

The world slowly came back into focus and you could see Leah’s worried face staring right back at you, “I’m fine,” You mumbled, but it sounded weak even to you.

“Fine?” Leah couldn’t help but scoff and shake her head, “No, I told you that it was a bad idea, I knew you were sick and yet you didn’t listen. This is very much not fine!” Her voice still remained firm but she couldn’t help but be worried, watching you collapse was enough to make her panic.

“I don’t see the big deal, I’m fine,” You murmured groggily, attempting to push yourself back up, “I can still play, I just… I need to get my breath back.” You added.

The medic team ran to your side and began to do checks to make sure you’re fine, and you didn’t hit your head or anything too serious.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Leah told you, holding you firmly down, “I don’t think so, look I know you want to play but it’s not a good idea and I mean that this time, Monkey.” She insisted, her grip strong and reassuring.

“No, Leah! I can’t! The game–” You wanted to argue and tell her you’re fine again, that you can keep going but all that comes out is a weak cough.

Your head felt like it was on fire and the cold air against your skin sent a shiver through you.

“You’re not playing,” Leah repeated, firmly as she lifted you up into her arms and carried you back to the bench, “You’re burning up, forget about the game. You’re sick, and I’m letting you get any worse.”

“But Le,” You attempt to talk but lack any energy to try and argue your case, your body has already given up as you curled up on the bench, feeling small and defeated, “Okay.” You reluctantly gave in.

Leah pulled off her own coat and draped it over you like a blanket, “Sit here, don’t move,” She paused as she brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, “I’m going to grab you some water and have a word with Jonas.”

You hate this– You hate feeling weak, hate that you had to miss out. That you let yourself get to this point.

“I’m fine to–” You muttered, trying to sit back up and protest against the idea.

“No, don’t even think about it,” Leah interjected, shaking her head, “God, how can you still be this stubborn even when you’re sick? I want you to sit here and not move, alright?” She said, pointing her index finger in your face.

“Don’t worry Le, we’ll keep an eye on her,” Beth piped in from where she sat on the other side of you on the bench, “Go talk to Jonas, it’s fine.”

Leah flashed her blonde friend a grateful smile, “Thanks, Beth.” With that, she wandered off to find your coach and left you on the bench with Beth, Viv, Buddy.

“Monkey, ‘ou okay? You fell,” Buddy’s innocent eyes looked concerned as she tried to crawl over to sit on your lap, despite your curled up frame, “Hugs make things better!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Buddy,” Viv was reluctant to let Buddy attempt to climb over you, understanding how weak you might be feeling right now along with the whole fact of Buddy not getting sick either.

“Ow,” Buddy pouted and it broke your heart to see her look so upset.

You let out a cough and it wracked your whole body, “I can… I can still play. I’m fine, see? It’s just a cough,” You tried to insist that you’re fine, while attempting to try and stand up again as you felt a sense of determination that you weren’t about to miss the game.

Beth saw straight through it and pushed you back down into your seat, “Hey, no. Take it easy, Monkey,” She paused, “You’re definitely not in any fit state to play today as much as you want to.”

“I don’t want to let anyone down though,” You murmured, feeling the disappointment for not being there for your teammates.

Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and wrapped her arm around you, “You’re not letting anybody down, kid. You can’t help being sick.”

“I feel like I am,” You quietly admitted.

It’s not too long before Leah walks back over to where you’re sitting, “Right, I’ve had a word with Jonas and he’s aware you're not able to play today,” She informed you, handing you a bottle of water to drink, “Here you go my girl, drink this please.” She instructed, taking a seat beside you on the bench in the free spot.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered a quiet apology, you had kind of been horrible today and all because you were so stubborn to admit when you were sick and not able to play.

“It’s okay my girl,” Leah pulled you into her side and brushed the hair away that was stuck to your forehead, “I just don’t want to see you get any worse, alright?”

“O… Okay,” You reluctantly gave in to her words and kept yourself tucked into her side.

“You’ll get better in no time, there’s plenty more matches this season,” Leah promised you, “But you would have really been putting yourself in harm's way if you had played today.” She added.

“I get it,” You murmured, hoping the lecture was over but you were definitely mistaken there.

“This is serious, Monkey,” Leah continued to tell you, “I know you might feel like I am nagging you, but this could have been so much worse than it was.” She said, reminding you the seriousness of how bad it could have been– She was right there.

“Do you?” Leah asked, raising an eyebrow,” Cos’ I really don’t think you do– Your decision was reckless and irresponsible, you could have hurt yourself. What could have happened if you hit your head when you collapsed?”

“I know, I know,” You bit your bottom lip and felt immense guilt for making everyone worry like they did, “I know it was a stupid decision and I’m sorry that I did that.”

Leah exhaled a sigh, sympathetic for you feeling so miserable, “Right, how about we head home now then?” She suggested, gesturing for you to try and stand up, but your body definitely felt too weak to even move right now.

Shaking your head, you stayed seated on the bench, “No… No, I don’t wanna go home– Can we stay and watch the match, please?” You asked.

“Monkey,” Leah began, debating the decision in her head, “You’re sick and you need to be at home resting, being here isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s the first game of the season–  It’s important,” You plead, you didn’t want to miss it even if you were feeling like you had literally been run over by a double decker bus, “Please?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah furrowed her eyebrow and shook her head, “You’ll feel better if you’re at home. You can watch the game at home, we can probably catch most of it on telly.”

“I don’ wanna go,” Buddy insisted, managing to successfully climb onto Beth’s lap and tuck herself against her, “Wan’ stay, Mummy!”

“There’s no harm in staying to watch, Le,” Beth spoke up as she gave her opinion, “Monkey’s hardly able to move right now and if worse comes to the worst, she can just curl up and sleep here on.” She joked, gesturing to the way you had all but tucked yourself into Leah’s side and your eyes were drooping shut.

“Stay,” Buddy repeated.

Leah exhaled a sigh and gave in, “Fine, alright, but as soon as it finishes, we’re going home,” She paused to look at you, “You need to rest and get better.”

“Alright,” You smiled faintly, despite the overall exhaustion you felt.

“Why were you so insistent to play today when you feel so terrible, huh?” Leah kept her arm wrapped securely around you, “You scared me when you collapsed in the way that you did.”

“I’m sorry, I thought I could push through it and I would be fine,” You continued to lean into her, too exhausted to put up the fight anymore as your body wracked with coughs again, “I didn’t want to let the team down. I didn’t want to miss out.” You mumbled, your words slurring together as the fever pulled you deeper into exhaustion.

Leah exhaled a sigh and shook her head, running her hand through the strands of your hair, “You can’t help anyone when you’re like this, my girl,” She told you, “Next time, listen to me, yeah? I’ve always got your best interest at heart, delightful teenage attitude and all.” She joked.

“What fun is that though,” Sick or not, you can't help but be your usual cheeky self as you smirked at the blonde, “God, my body aches– I feel horrible.” You admitted out loud.

“And that’s you finally admitting you're sick, I’m shocked,” Leah joked, ruffling your hair and you didn’t even have the energy to growl or protest like usual, “Something tells me this is gonna hit you hard this week, eh?” She murmured, making the mental note to drop a text to Jordan to arrange the alternative option for Buddy to stay with her to avoid ending up with both of them sick.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[ppnuggiex]

Hello can I request a unserious s/o who is rarely mad(gn reader if possible) with the octavinelle trio and riddle, and one day they js see their s/o pissed af and being a badass

So sorry if this made no sense😭if it doesn't make any sense js reply to this I'll try my best to put it into understandable words(??) Pls ignore if u can't do this request or anything! :)

　　　　　　TWST x gn reader

　　　　『　riddle ,, azul ,, jade ,, floyd ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　->

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, tw for side characters being jerks

　　— sorry for how late this is 😭🙏 but ive finally gotten to it !! hope you enjoy :))

| • hes more used to seeing you playing around with ace and deuce ,, used to you making a joke about anything at any moment possible

| • seeing you get serious and mad with a student ,, more specifically one from his dorm ,, is enough to let him know something was wrong

| • he's quick to figure out the situation ,, the student being apart of a project for one of crewel's assignments and shirking their responsibilities onto you ,, it was understandable to be upset about

| • riddle will reprimand the student ,, disappointed they would do this to you ,, let do it in the first place . he prides himself on keeping his students well educated and up-to date with their assignments . if they need help ,, then they would get it if they'd ask

| • hes not too sure how exactly to deal with you being angry ,, as hes more used to your more softer and joking side

| • least to say ,, riddle will be on your side depending on the situation when you get angry

| • he's the same with riddle ,, also not used to seeing you mad ,, even during his overblot you didnt express any anger as you did now

| • a pomefiore second year ,, one that was in his history class ,, was pestering you about notes regarding the assignment azul and the rest of his class had gotten

| • the student was probably aware of what azul used to do ,, or maybe theyre aware of his new plan of purchasing so much from monstro lounge and getting hole punches to meet with him

| • either way ,, they werent letting up about notes for the assignment ,, nor leave you alone about it

| • and thus it led to your yelling ,, catching him by surprise to even hear you yell

| • even when floyd pestered you ,, and when jade would jokingly (possibly) say he put poison in the food you offered to taste test ,, you never truly got as angry as you were with this persistent student

| • benevolent as azul was ,, he was quick to come to your aid and help with the problem . escorting the pomefiore student away ,, letting you cool off for a moment ,, and deal with this troublesome being .

| • needless to say ,, he definitely didnt want to be on the receiving end for your anger

| • jade had tried in the past to see what makes you tick ,, what could possibly get on your nerves but to his disappointment he wasnt able to figure it out

| • he would joke that he slipped a intoxicating mushroom in your soup ,, or say he couldnt remember where he placed your gift during a holiday

| • yet nothing he did would ever give him the reaction he's witnessing in front of him now

| • it was meant to be a relaxing trip to beach ,, but instead he was on the sidelines watching a showdown

| • it happened when you offered to get something from the snack bar provided ,, you got a little peckish swimming out there and jade wasn't hungry at all ,, used to having to swim

| • one of the customers behind you had cut ,, and at first you werent going to make such a deal out of it ,, until he had purposely got out of line and then got back in ,, except right in front of you

| • with that ,, you had pointed it out that he had cut the slowly growing line not once but twice ,, to his reply was something regarding your attitude and to "what who you're talking to like that"

| • and then it spiralled down hill from there . jade heard the commotion from your guys' spot on the beach ,, not too far from the ocean but far enough to not get splashed by the waves

| • jade was surprised to witness your anger ,, and watched for a moment before stepping in to help

| • thankfully others were eye witnesses to the situation ,, and the others were there to back you up and testify for you

| • not that jade wouldnt believe you ,, but it also helped difuse the situation and the guy soon left ,, and jade had finally witnessed what your anger would be like

| • if he had to compare your anger to someone ,, it would be that of jade's . its not often you get angry ,, and jade does but he never truly shows it flat out ,, rather hidden under his mask of deception

| • though its high time you stood up for yourself ! floyd knows how much people can push you over and you'd just laugh it off and reference something from your world

| • though after a customer had gotten too close to you and tried to put the blame on you ,, it was evident you were angry . floyd wasnt present at the scene ,, but another staff member had witnessed what happened and informed floyd ,, hoping he could get rid of the guy at least instead of adding fuel to the flames .

| • and that's what he did ,, not without leaving a small threat to the guy that if he were to cause such a ruckus again he would be given more than just a warning

| • floyd ,, having witness your anger ,, knows that he would rather you joke around and be playful than witness that again ,, having to calm you down was not something he'd want to experience again

[lilacmingi]

HYENA (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Hyena hybrid!Wooyoung x fem reader

Word count: 4,025

Note: I had to make Wooyo the hyenas because of his high-pitched, squeaky laugh lol

Your feet wobbled slightly as you stepped over chunky rocks. Clacking sounds followed after as some were knocked loose by your steps. You took a trip out to the desert to do some exploring, wanting to try something new and different for once, as well as check out a place you had never been to.

You had rented a Land Rover to get around in and were told to stay on a path which was marked by stakes in the ground. You were a fairly good navigator and the instructions were simple, so you weren't worried about getting lost. Plus, it's not like you were gonna go exploring places far off from the path.

The desert was exactly what you expected it to be—deserted. Which, in all honesty, was perfectly fine with you. The last thing you wanted was to run into some animal. You were really only out there to look at the scenery and take photos.

You made it to a slightly higher elevation where you spotted a cave somewhere in the distance, your interest immediately piqued. The main thing that interested you was where this cave was situated. The cavern was located near the ground, seeming almost like a burrow, but with cavelike characteristics; a large rock above the opening and messily clustered along the top and around the entrance of the cavern. Your curiosity got the best of you as you traipsed down the rocky hillside and onto the dusty dirt ground. You moved over to the opening of the cave and peered inside curiously. The opening was large enough for a person to walk in, which was odd.

You stepped inside, nearly slipping on the dirt as the ground sloped downward.

"Incredible." You murmured as you gazed around at the large amount of space inside.

A faint noise caught your attention, pulling your focus away from the well-constructed burrow. You furrowed your brows, unconsciously moving ahead.

The sound of cackling could be heard from somewhere within the cave. As it got louder, it sounded almost hyena-like. The ominous sound sent a shiver down your spine.

Thinking you walked right into some animal's home, you began moving back towards the entrance, keeping your eyes on the endless abyss where the laughter emitted from.

"Well, well, well, look what walked into my cave."

The voice startled you.

Was there a person living in the cave?

"Wh-Who's there?" You stuttered out, taking another step backwards.

A silhouette appeared in the shadows, slowly moving closer. The first thing you saw were bright, yellow irises, staring at you like a piece of meat. The sight was unsettling but it's not what really disturbed you—what really disturbed you were the ears on top of his head and the sharp canines in his mouth. The hybrid grinned wickedly at you as he slinked closer, his claws dragging along the cave wall making a eerie scraping sound that made you feel sick to your stomach.

"I didn't mean to trespass. I didn't know anyone lived here." You apologized, backing away.

"Do you see open caves and go inside as you please?" The man... animal, asked.

"I didn't think anyone lived here." You said, taking a few steps back.

"Why are you trying to run away?"

You couldn't think of an answer.

"Don't worry. I don't bite... hard." His voice was silken, but threatening, as there was an ominous undertone to his words.

You stumbled back into a corner, trying to get away, only to have the hybrid trap you between his arms. His head tilted to the side, his gold irises scanning you before he brought his face close to yours.

"How lucky am I?" He grinned, showing off a pair of sharp canines. "A delicious meal walking right into my cave."

"W-what?" You stuttered, your eyes unable to look away from the hyena's sharp fangs protruding from both his top and bottom rows of teeth.

He ignored you, leaning down to your neck, inhaling deeply, a short, guttural and animalistic growl rumbling in his throat.

"You smell delectable. I could just eat you up."

Your eyes instinctively screwed shut. If you were about to meet your demise, you didn't want the last thing you saw to be razor sharp teeth. His hot breath fanned against your neck as he moved even closer. You trembled, preparing to feel his long fangs dig into your flesh.

"But I won't." He added. "That would be such a waste. After all, a pretty girl like you deserves to be saved."

Your eyes flew open in both shock and fear. Shock, because your life was going to be spared. Fear, because you weren't sure what he was going to do with you.

He brought one of his clawed hands to your chin, holding it between his fingers as he tilted your face up.

Out of pure instinct, you pushed him as hard as you could away from you. To your shock, he stumbled back, hitting the dirt wall on the opposite side of the cavern, staggering slightly. You didn't think you pushed him that hard, but based on the way his jacket was flung off one shoulder by the impact, you'd say you shoved him a lot harder than you assumed.

That's when you noticed his thin figure. Even though he was clad in leather and fur, you could still see how slender he was. He regained his footing and adjusted his jacket, dusting his vest off as he glared at you, his eyes almost glowing with rage. Despite that, all you could think about was his slender figure. Though he was a hybrid, he was still part human. A real person.

"You seem a little underweight." You commented aloud.

He ran his hands through his black and blonde hair out of annoyance. "It's not exactly easy to find food out here, you know." He grumbled, his jaw clenched. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is deserted."

An idea suddenly popped into your head. One that would possibly save your life.

"What if I made you a deal?"

"A deal?" He scoffed. "What could you possibly offer me?"

"Food."

"I'm not interested in granola bars and trail mix, okay?"

"No, I mean a real meal."

"In exchange for what?"

"You letting me go."

"Elaborate."

"Come back to town with me and I'll treat you to a nice meal. Anything you want."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to go into town around people?"

"We'll be eating in my hotel room. It's safer that way."

He stared at you for a few moments, visibly considering his options. Then, he nodded. "Alright. Deal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why not?" He shrugged.

"Great! Follow me." Your tone was unusually peppy, and rightfully so. You quite literally just bargained your way out of being held captive.

The hybrid followed you to the Land Rover you rented, keeping a close eye on you. Though you seemed friendly, he didn't completely trust you yet. If you show any sign of untrustworthiness even once, he would rip you to shreds... maybe. He was so confused. His instincts told him that you were food and he was in desperate need of sustenance, however, his heart squeezed a little at the thought of hurting you.

"Come on." You beckoned after getting inside the car.

He shook away his thoughts and climbed inside, situating himself in the passenger seat as you started the engine, hearing it roar to life.

"I see these things going up and down this path all the time. I've always wondered what it would be like to ride in one." The hyena commented aloud.

He tried holding back his excitement, but you could see it in his eyes.

"Well, now you get to find out." You smiled, driving down the dirt road. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Wooyoung."

"I'm Y/n."

"Y/n." He repeated. "Can this thing go any faster?"

"It sure can." You punched the gas, causing the vehicle to jerk forward before zooming down the path.

The engine thrummed loudly in response to the sudden speed change. The road was straight, allowing you the freedom to do such thrilling things.

You took a moment to glance over at Wooyoung, noticing how he leaned forward in his seat, his hands gripping onto the dashboard. To your surprise, a joyful laugh left him. Smiling to yourself, you turned your attention back to the road.

Wooyoung watched as rocks and trees whizzed by, the warm wind blowing through his hair. It was so liberating and nothing like he'd ever experienced.

Unadulterated joy began bubbling up inside the hybrid and before he could stop it, laughter began spilling out of him. High pitched, hyena-like cackles escaped him without any warning, a bright smile on his face.

The sight was almost heartwarming. A "feral" hybrid like him laughing and having fun was unheard of. You had to remind yourself that the man beside you could was still part hyena and could attack at any given moment.

You returned back to your hotel, leading Wooyoung inside. You got some odd stares from passersby on the street as well as hotel staff, but you paid no mind to it—or tried to, at least. You knew seeing a feral hybrid out in civilization was probably startling to some people.

Once you were back in your hotel room and away from prying eyes, you felt like you could relax a little.

"Alright." You started, grabbing the room service menu. "Here. Pick whatever you want."

He took the menu, glancing down at it. Your eyes lingered on his long claws as he browsed the dishes.

It wasn't long until he chose what he wanted. You chose something for yourself and placed the order.

"It'll be about 20 minutes. You can get a shower while you wait. If you want to."

"Are you saying I smell?"

"No! Not at all." You shook your head. "I just assumed since—"

"Don't try to domesticate me." He snapped, cutting you off.

You backed off, muttering an apology.

The 20 minute wait felt like an eternity. Wooyoung stood in the corner of the hotel room while you sat on the bed. The atmosphere in the room was tense and had you feeling on edge. Relief flooded you when there was a knock on the room's door followed by, "Room service!"

"Oh, good. The food's here." You stood up from the bed, answering the door.

When you brought the food into the room, Wooyoung straightened up, his eyes widening slightly in interest. He sniffed the air a few times before moving closer.

"Come on. You can sit down." You gestured to the desk, placing his food down.

You took a seat on the end of your bed, watching the hybrid. He stared at the utensils for a moment before grabbing the fork, stabbing the thick piece of steak with it. You started to interject and tell him that he could use his knife, but decided against it, allowing him to eat as he pleased.

He began gnawing on the steak, his sharp canines piercing the meat. You could tell he hadn't eaten in quite some time. After a few moments, you looked away and started eating your own food.

"I've never had anything like this before." He commented, mouth full of steak. "It's so good."

"Yes, it is." You nodded. "I'm glad you like it."

Once the two of you finished eating, you took notice of how late it had gotten. You were supposed to take Wooyoung back to his den after you fed him.

"It's almost dark. I don't think I can get you back in time." You told the hybrid.

"But you are taking me back, right?"

"Yes, of course. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow. You'll have to stay the night here."

"You want me to sleep in a bed?"

"Well, yes." You responded.

"Whatever." He muttered.

You tried to look past his snappy behavior and went to get the pullout couch ready. The room you rented was a normal hotel room with a bathroom, one bed, a pullout sofa, an office desk, TV, microwave, and mini fridge. Nothing special, but equipped with all the necessities.

"Here you go." You gestured.

Wooyoung took a seat, testing out the little mattress before lying down, not bothering to get under the sheets. You left the room to change into your pajamas and prepare for bed. When you returned, Wooyoung was still lying in the same spot, his golden-colored irises watching your every move. His eyes followed you as you walked across the small room over to your bed, slipping under the covers.

"I'm not gonna do anything." You told him.

"I don't know that."

You let out a sigh. "Goodnight, Wooyoung."

You clicked off the bedside lamp and laid down, pulling the covers up over you.

It took you a while to get to sleep, as you were a bit nervous sharing a room with a hyena hybrid. Part of you trusted him, thinking that he was just a lonely person, but the other half of you had to remind yourself that he was a feral and would attack you if necessary.

You rolled over in bed, the sun seeping in through the hotel room curtains. You stretched your limbs, turning to check on Wooyoung, not expecting the sight that met your eyes.

The hybrid was lying on his stomach and his face was squished against the pillow, small snores leaving him as he snoozed away. His ear twitched in his sleep, causing you to let out a quiet chuckle. He looked so peaceful and docile. You wanted so badly to squish his cheeks and give him a gentle kiss on the nose, but fought the urge to do so.

Just then, Wooyoung's eyes snapped open, staring directly at you.

"Good morning." You greeted him.

He quickly pushed himself up, seeming a bit frantic. Once he realized everything was fine, he relaxed.

"Well." You started, sitting upright. "I'm gonna get ready. It won't take long."

Wooyoung's eyes followed you as you went to your suitcase, grabbing a fresh change of clothes and going into the bathroom.

His heart felt heavy at the thought of being sent back home. Though he was still on edge around you, something in his chest tightened at the thought of separating from you.

The rental Land Rover came to a stop on the dirt road near the hyena's burrow. You put the car in park and turned to Wooyoung.

"Here we are." You announced.

As much as you didn't want him to leave, you knew he most likely wanted to go back to his den. And you wanted to kept your word. You only promised him a meal, nothing more.

You turned to Wooyoung who stayed in the passenger seat for a moment, staring out in the distance where his den was.

"Thanks for keeping your end of the deal." He told you.

"You're welcome."

He reluctantly got out of the car, walking towards his cave.

You weren't sure what to say. See you around? That would be stupid. You were going home in a couple days. You wouldn't see him.

"Well, goodbye." You finally spoke, putting the vehicle in drive.

"Wait." Wooyoung called out.

You paused, moving the gear shift into park.

"Yes?"

"I feel like I owe you." He told you.

"What? No. You promised to let me go and I promised to give you a nice meal. We're even."

"I still feel like I owe you. There's some nice places the tourists never show. Would you like to see them?"

The offer was nice and he seemed pretty set on making things up to you, so you agreed.

"Hop in." You gestured to the passenger seat.

Wooyoung took his place back in the seat and you took off, letting him lead the way.

The first place he showed you took a while to get to, but once you arrived, it was well worth your time. It was a vast stretch of land dotted with trees. A small herd of zebras stood around a small reservoir having a drink of water. You gasped in awe, pulling your camera out to snap a few photos.

"I haven't seen any animals around since I showed up here. I mainly came here for the scenery, but this is really nice."

"You have to go a little further to get to the good spots." Wooyoung told you.

"This is awesome." You marveled, stepping closer, taking more photos.

You stayed for a while until Wooyoung directed you to the next location. Each place he showed you was stunning. You were able to see all sorts of animals and get fairly close to some. It took a bit of driving to get to these places and sometimes you would have to get out of the car and walk, but you didn't mind. It was all well worth it.

The two of you sat on a large rock, watching a group of elephants walk across the long stretch of land.

"How do you know about all these places?" You asked.

"I get bored and tend to wander around."

"It must be lonely out here."

"Sometimes." He responded, his eyes staring out in the distance.

You were saddened by his response. You can't imagine what it's like to be out in the desert alone. You wanted to ask more, but he looked a little uncomfortable, so you changed the subject.

"Can I touch your claws?" You asked.

It's something you had been wanting to do. You had never encountered a hybrid with claws before so, naturally, you were intrigued.

He seemed amused by that question, letting out a chuckle. "Sure."

You took his hand, staring at his long, sharp nails. Your fingertips gently touched the end of his claws, feeling the sharp points of them.

Wooyoung watched you as you examined his hand, looking intently at his nails. The feeling of your fingertips running over his fingers and hand had him feeling extremely flustered.

He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away, unable to endure it any more.

"Come over here." He gestured, hopping off the rock he was perched on.

You followed behind as the both of you waded through the knee-high grass. He came to a stop at a hillside that overlooked a large part of the desert.

"Wow." You gaped. "This view is stunning."

"It is." Wooyoung smiled, softly.

You moved to stand under a tree, the shade giving you some relief from the heat of the sun's harsh rays. The warm breeze blew through your hair, helping to cool you off a bit.

You snapped a few photos of the scenery, wanting to remember it exactly as it is. You stayed and admired the view for quite some time before before heading back the way you came.

The two of you trekked through the grass, making on your way back to the vehicle. Just as you saw the Land Rover come into view, a low growl emitted from somewhere behind you. You spun around, a gasp leaving you at the horrifying sight; a dark, maroon-toned lion with a dark mane and a nasty scar over his eye slinked through the grass, his amber irises locked on you. A shiver ran down your spine as you took a step back.

Wooyoung's top lip curled back in a snarl as he pulled you behind him, keeping one arm protectively in front of you, shielding you from the predator prowling just mere feet away. The lion didn't seem to want to back down. Wooyoung bravely stepped closer, his claws ready to pierce into the animal as soon as it decided to attack.

You watched over Wooyoung's shoulder as the lion growled, taking a step forward. The hyena hybrid in front of you let out a menacing and threatening growl that rumbled in the back of his throat, warning the animal that if he got closer, it wouldn't be good.

The lion seemed to back off after that. For good measure, Wooyoung moved closer to the beast letting out an animalistic snarl as he bared his fangs. The lion gave an angry roar before turning away, leaving the two of you alone.

Your shoulders sagged in relief as Wooyoung turned towards you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, cupping your cheeks between his hands.

"Just a little shaken up, but I'll be fine." You assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You reassured him. "The sun is about to go down. I should get you back to your cave and head back to the hotel."

"But you're gonna miss the best part."

"What do you mean?"

"The stars."

"The stars?" You repeated.

"Yeah. I know a really good spot for stargazing. We'll have a great view."

The sun set and you found yourself sitting on the hood of your rental car which was parked off the trail and out in the middle of a grassy area. A myriad of stars hung in the sky above, standing out against the dark blanket that cloaked the atmosphere. Every once in a while, one of the stars would twinkle slightly, flickering for just a moment.

"Thanks for not eating me." You spoke up, cutting through the comfortable silence.

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle. "You're welcome, but I wouldn't have done it, anyway."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why not? Did you think I'd taste bad?" You joked.

"No. It's not that." He shook his head. "I just couldn't do it. You looked too innocent."

You weren't sure if you should be flattered or insulted. Either way, your life was spared, and for that you were thankful.

"Well, that's reassuring. I think." You chuckled.

"Sorry. That came out wrong." He let out a sigh, frustrated about something that you weren't aware of.

"Are you alright?"

"No." He groaned. "My mind is a mess right now."

"Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind, then? It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense. Just talk it out." You told him.

"Alright. For starters, I had a really good time. These past two days have been amazing and honestly, I don't really wanna go back to my regular life. The thought of it kinda scares me."

Your brows raised slightly in surprise. You kept your composure, but on the inside you were freaking out. This whole time you'd been worried about leaving him to return to his normal life and come to find out, he didn't want to go back. You two were on the same page.

"I shouldn't be feeling this way. I shouldn't be attached to you. I shouldn't want to leave my den. I'm a feral hybrid—a wild animal. I'm not supposed to be feeling these things, but I do." He confessed.

"Wooyoung, would you like to come home with me?" You asked.

He seemed caught off guard by your offer.

"You can come live with me. I have an extra room. It'll be different from the life you're used to, but the offer is there if you want it."

"Yes." He answered immediately. "I do."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. After experiencing life away from the desert, I realize that's the life I want. Plus, everything is so much better, especially the food. The bed was nice too."

"That was just a pullout. Wait until you sleep in a real bed."

Wooyoung's eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement after hearing that.

"Come on." You beckoned. "Let's head back to the hotel. I'll let you sleep in the big bed tonight." You slid off the hood of the car, Wooyoung following behind.

"Can we share the bed?" He asked, timidly as he got into the passenger seat.

"Only if you shower."

"Do I smell?" He questioned with a pout.

"No, but you've been living out in the wild and I think you should clean up before crawling into a clean bed."

"That's fair." He shrugged.

"Then it's settled." You gave a nod of finality before driving back the way you came.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Jongho:

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18

[scary-grace]

camera shy - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You're a villain who likes catching heroes in compromising positions, and when you can't do that, you put them there yourself. It's not until you capture Tenko Shimura that you lose the upper hand. (All Might rescues Tenko AU, pro hero!Tenko, villain!reader, 2k words. Suggestive if you squint.)

There’s nothing pro heroes care about more than their image, so in your opinion, they were just asking for a villain like you. Somebody has to show the public what the heroes are really like underneath, after all, and you’ve got a flair for the dramatic, so why shouldn’t it be you? All it really takes is a little research, a little luck, a decent video camera or two, and a hell of a lot of rope.

It’s not the heroes with the skeletons in their closets who interest you. Somebody like Endeavor, who’s been at the center of scandal after scandal, has nothing new to say. You like a hero who still has a secret or two, a hero who’s a real challenge to capture long enough for a good confession cam. With those criteria in mind, it really was inevitable that you’d go after newly minted pro hero Tenko Shimura.

You have to hand it to Tenko – he was hard to catch. You knew he’d be hard to catch, given his quirk, but that was what made catching him so much fun. You caught one of his hands first, then trapped the other while he was still trying to figure out what was going on, and then you went to work. Now you have his hands tied above his head, fingers splayed apart so he can’t bring them together or touch anything else. With other heroes, you’ve done some fancy rope-work to jazz up the shot, but you don’t think you need that here. Tenko looks pretty good just like this.

Tenko Shimura watches you through narrowed red eyes as you adjust the camera angles. “Are we shooting a porno or something here?”

“Careful what you say, hero. This is all B-roll,” you say, and Tenko blanches. “I’m kidding. Loosen up.”

“Loosen up. Right.” Tenko rolls his wrists, but you’re confident in your knots, and they hold. “Seriously. What am I doing here?”

“We’re just going to have a talk,” you say. Tenko’s eyes follow you from camera to camera. “You’ve seen my videos, right? Or at least you’ve seen the ones your friends were in.”

“Yeah.” A jagged smile crosses Tenko’s face. “I’ve seen what you did to them.”

“What I did to them?” you protest. “I was so nice to Spinner. We talked about video games. It was fun.”

“Yeah, and then the whole internet tore him up for being a geek.”

“Not the whole internet,” you disagree. The comments on your video were full of gamer girls jumping up and down to ask Spinner out, and you know that at least a few of them went so far as to shoot their shot. “That’s the problem with you heroes. Why do you need everybody to like you so bad?”

“I don’t need everybody to like me,” Tenko says. You raise your eyebrows. “If you wanted a hero who thinks it’s a popularity contest, you grabbed the wrong guy.”

“See, I think that means I picked the right guy.” You sit down cross-legged beside the main camera, ready to adjust it if needed but well out of the shot. “The heroes who care about the rankings, they never say anything interesting. But you, Tenko Shimura – I bet you have some really interesting things to say.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Tenko rolls his wrists again. “The thing is, Cam Girl –”

“Hey,” you protest. “That’s not my code name.”

“You don’t have a code name?”

“Yeah, because it’s not about me,” you say. Cam Girl. God. “You’re deflecting.”

“So are you,” Tenko says. He tilts his head, studying you. “If you don’t want to be Cam Girl, come up with a better name.”

“What, like you did?” you challenge. “You know how many heroes use their full names? Kamui Woods and you. Is that really a club you want to be in?”

“If the other option is the can’t-make-up-a-name hide-behind-a-camera brigade, yeah,” Tenko says. It’s quiet for a second or two. “You take a lot of risks pulling jobs like this, don’t you? Kidnapping people and holding them in place for hours – either you’re really good, or you’ve got blackmail material on somebody important.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” you say, and smirk. “Impressed?”

Tenko shakes his head, which annoys you. He’s tied up in your makeshift lair. He should be impressed. “I can’t figure out why a villain gutsy enough to kidnap heroes is too chicken to get in front of the camera.”

“I run the show. I’m not the show. That’s – are you making chicken noises at me?” You’re losing control of this interview. You need to get it back, effective immediately. “Animal noises. Is that one of your special talents? Do an elephant sound next.”

“No animal sounds. And no more answers,” Tenko says. The smirk on his face says he’s got you right where he wants you, in spite of the fact that you’re in charge. You feel a brief but powerful urge to knock him out. “Unless you get in here with me.”

“What?”

“I’ll answer your questions,” Tenko says, “but you have to sit here with me and answer mine. On camera.”

“If I show my face on camera, this will be my last interview,” you say. “I still have lots of heroes who need a close-up.”

“Damn, I thought I was your one and only.”

“The only one tied down here is you,” you say. How bad do you want this particular interview? Pretty bad. Tenko Shimura’s the most interesting hero you’ve captured so far, and if all it takes to get him really talking is to put on some sunglasses and a surgical mask, it’s worth it. “Sit tight.”

You adjust the cameras to frame both of you, then sit down in the frame facing Tenko Shimura. “Nice disguise,” he says, “but I already saw your face.”

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “Think about it. Have any of the heroes I’ve interviewed been able to describe me afterward?”

Tenko doesn’t answer. “Here’s my first question. What’s your quirk?”

“You think I’ll tell you that?”

“If you want to know what my weakness is,” Tenko says. “Don’t you?”

No. You’re surprised by how quickly the answer occurs to you, and how strongly you feel about it. Your whole project is about exposing heroes’ secrets. It’s not about getting them killed, which is what you filming this and sharing it would be. “I don’t care about that,” you say. “I want to know what the worst part of being a hero is.”

“The worst part?”

“The worst part. Don’t tell me being a hero is just so plus ultra all the time.”

Tenko snorts. “You want me to say villains, right, Cam Girl? That’s the answer you want.”

“I want the truth,” you say. “And don’t call me Cam Girl.”

“The truth.” Tenko thinks about it. And keeps thinking about it, long enough for you to wonder if he’s trying to stall you. “The worst part about being a hero is that I can’t do it all the time.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t do it all the time. I don’t want to do it all the time,” Tenko says. You reach over and adjust the camera on the right. You need to zoom in. “It’s my job. It’s not everything about me. The whole work-life balance thing. You know, the thing All Might is really bad at.”

You’ve never heard a hero roast All Might like that. Then again, Tenko was All Might’s protégé before he turned pro, so he’s probably gotten a better look at all of All Might’s good and bad habits than anybody else. “So, All Might –”

“Let me finish, Cam Girl,” Tenko says. His expression is serious. “I don’t want to be a hero all the time. But I know what happens when heroes are looking the other way. And I don’t like thinking about that happening when I’m like – playing video games or something.”

You should ask about video games. Since the video game segment of Spinner’s interview went so viral, you can probably net Tenko a gamer girlfriend. Instead: “What happens when heroes aren’t looking?”

“Nope. It’s my turn,” Tenko says. You guess it probably is. You brace yourself. “What’s your favorite part about being a villain?”

“That’s a new one,” you say, for lack of anything better. “Huh.”

“Like I said, a setup like this is a lot of work,” Tenko says. “And capturing a pro isn’t easy. There must be something you like about it, or you wouldn’t do it. So what is it?”

Tenko gave you a good answer. You feel like you owe him a decent one, and you have to think about it for a second. “I like being free. Not just to do what I want, but to say what I want. And as a – villain, I guess – I can make sure people listen to me. I make sure they listen to my interviewees too.”

You and Spinner didn’t just talk about video games. He talked a lot about being a heteromorph, and you left it all in the video you eventually posted. “My turn now,” you say. “What happens when heroes aren’t looking?”

Tenko’s eyes shift away from yours. “Ask something else.”

“I’ll give you an extra question if you answer this one,” you bargain. “What happens when heroes aren’t looking?”

“Why did you pick me?”

You blink. “Was there a real reason?” Tenko continues. “Or was I just next on your hit list?”

“No,” you say. “I’ve been looking for a chance.”

You have. You had to. Tenko’s anything but an easy target, and if you wanted to capture him, you had to plan ahead. Tenko looks surprised by your answer, but you don’t think he’s unhappy. It’s quiet for a few moments. You’re expecting him to ask his next question. Instead, he answers yours. “What happens when heroes aren’t watching,” he says. “Look closer.”

Look closer? You sit forward, leaning in to study Tenko Shimura’s face. Leaning in maybe a little closer than you should. A lot closer than you’d need to be to see what he’s talking about. “Your scars.”

“People think I got them from a villain,” Tenko says. “I got one of them from my dad.”

Your stomach drops, and you find yourself leaning in closer, one hand already rising before you can think to ask. “Can I –”

“Uh – yeah.” Tenko glances away from you, then looks back. “If you want.”

There are two scars on Tenko Shimura’s face, one over his right eye, the other over the left side of his mouth. They’re both old and smooth, but still obvious. Scars on a person’s face rarely fade. You run your index finger lightly along the scar, and Tenko’s eyes flutter shut. “This one was me,” he says. “When my quirk awakened. I was scratching my face.”

“You must have scratched really hard,” you say. “How old were you?”

“Five.” Tenko’s eyes stay closed. “The one on my mouth was him. He hit me with – something. I don’t remember what.”

You touch that scar, too. Run your index finger over it, like you did with the other one, only this time you can’t make yourself stop. “I’m sorry.”

Tenko’s lips move beneath your finger. “Why? You weren’t there.”

“What you said, about heroes not watching –” This is why you always do interviews. You’re not good at answering questions. “I think that’s when the rest of us are supposed to be doing it. I mean, not us, because we were kids, but – you know what I mean, right?”

“I don’t know. Kind of hard to focus right now.” Tenko’s eyes seem perfectly focused on you. You’re used to your interviewees glaring at you, but nobody’s been as intense about it as Tenko Shimura has. “I don’t remember this from your other interviews.”

“I’m just going with it,” you say. You’ve gone with it far enough that your hand is shifting to cradle his jaw, even as you lean in closer. “What do you think?”

Tenko Shimura’s scarred lips part ever so slightly. “Keep going.”

[whowilllbringtherain]

LOVE IS OLD, LOVE IS NEW

One Shot ~ Daniel Wagner / Female Reader

AN: This is a comfort fic! Danny is not the cheater! This fic changed a lot from when I started writing it to when it ended, so I hope you enjoy wherever my mind went while I wrote this…

Word Count: + 10.6k

Content Warnings: Heartbreak, crying, cheating, insecurity, nudity, deprecating thoughts, intense sadness, self-isolation, boner, mentions of sexual situations, lots of skin touching including breasts (but in a non-sexual way), love confessions, mentions of sex, considerate Danny.

“You alright?” Danny asked, pausing the movement of his fingers and ripping his intense attention from the melodic chords he had been working on, letting his acoustic guitar falter in his hands.

You looked up from your phone, “What? Oh, yeah, fine.”

You weren’t really fine. It was your boyfriend, Otis’s birthday, and you hadn’t been able to get a hold of him all day. You swiped through your text chain, seeing that your message at 7am wishing him a happy birthday was followed by an embarrassing amount of messages almost once an hour asking what he was doing, how he was doing, and if he was okay.

You had grown unbelievably restless, your anxiety bordering between genuine concern for his well being, and fear that he was shutting you out for some reason.

Though, this wasn’t completely unusual for Otis. He had always been distant, emotionally elusive in a way that left you second guessing your every move. Sometimes, he would go an entire day without a word, shutting down for reasons you could never quite figure out. You attributed it to the way he must’ve been raised, but often, and without wanting, he would go into a mood. You had tried to understand, tried to make excuses for it. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe you were overreacting.

It was terribly confusing, but you’d grown used to it, trying your hardest to take note of anything that may be a consistent trigger in his moods.

Danny, who was by far your closest friend, did not approve of his behaviour at all. In fact, he didn’t approve of Otis full stop. You had grown up together, graduated together, and were now splitting the rent of some small, shitty apartment in Nashville together, and it was hard for you to conceal the faults in your relationship when Danny seemed to always be there.

“You sure? You’ve been staring at that phone all afternoon,” he argued pointedly.

You huffed and ran a hand down the side of your face, “It’s just Otis…it’s his birthday but he hasn’t texted me back all day.” You paused, and Danny set his guitar down, its neck leaning against the arm of the couch you were both seated on. “I’m getting kinda worried,” you added.

Danny’s jaw tightened at the mention of Otis, a familiar tension brewing in his stance. You knew what he thought of your boyfriend, he had never been shy about it. As your best friend since childhood, Danny had always been protective of you, and he couldn’t stand how Otis treated you. To Danny, Otis was an undeserving ghost, always there, but never really present.

But it wasn’t as if Otis treated you poorly. No, you wouldn’t be dating him if he was. He just was a bit flaky sometimes- physically and emotionally.

Danny’s brows furrowed, “That is weird. Maybe he’s just busy with friends or something?” he suggested.

You shook your head, “No, he told me he was celebrating with them on the weekend. Told me he would see me today too,” you said anxiously, biting at the corners of your nails.

“Stop that,” Danny warned, pulling your hands away from your mouth.

It was a habit you seemed to have only picked up only recently, and Danny was always quick to stop it as soon as he saw you begin to nibble at the uneven edges of the nail.

“You’re right, ‘s a bit worrying. I would be pretty worried as well. Did he go out last night?” Danny asked.

“No.” You were beginning to feel more and more nervous, anxiety flooding through your body as you wondered what was going on.

You suddenly stood, “I think I’m gonna go over to his place. Maybe he’s just been sleeping all day.”

Danny glanced at his watch and grimaced when he saw that it was 5pm. He refrained from telling you he highly doubted it, not wanting to worry you any further.

“Shit,” you cursed as you looked out the window and saw that it was absolutely pouring with rain. You hurried to your bedroom to find a raincoat.

“Let me drive you,” Danny suggested, his voice now coming from his own room as he grabbed himself a sweater. You both emerged from your rooms and met in the hallway, and before you could protest he added, “Please. I don’t feel good knowing you’re driving in this weather.”

You scoffed, “Underestimating my driving skills, Wagner?” You carried the gifts you had bought Otis, including the bouquet of flowers into the living room with you and placed them on the table next to your handbag.

“Maybe,” Danny teased and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

It took less than five minutes to gather your things. The bouquet of flowers, a few small wrapped gifts, and your handbag. Once you had hastily gotten your things in order, Danny grabbed his car keys off the table and opened the front door for you.

“Need me to hold anything?” he asked, watching in amusement as you fumbled with the flowers, presents, your bag and your phone.

You laughed, “Yes please.”

He took the flowers and a few gifts from your arms and you both descended the long, winding stairs wordlessly until you were in the shared car park.

“I’m sure it’s all fine,” Danny assured he held the door open for you to get into the car.

“Yeah me too. Just really wanna see him, you know?” You immediately regretted saying it once the words left your mouth.

You usually tried to keep the Otis conversation minimal with Danny, knowing that he didn’t really like him. Danny hummed anyway, despite his disagreement, and started the car before reversing out of the garage. He handed you your favourite Beatles CD for you to put into the stereo while he drove, and you felt overwhelmingly appreciative of his attentiveness.

You wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, and that Otis just hadn't had a chance to look at his phone yet. But with each mile closer to Otis’s apartment, the pit in your stomach grew heavier, and the knot in your chest tighter. Every time you checked your phone, there was no new message. No missed calls. Nothing.

Throughout the drive, it was clear to you that Danny was trying his hardest to keep you from overthinking. You felt like he didn’t stop talking for the majority of the ride, telling you about the latest disagreement between Josh and Jake and how he, like usual, had to save the day with his mediation skills. He managed to make you laugh too, always knowing just what you needed when you weren’t feeling your absolute best.

You had to direct Danny the way there, which was quite difficult thanks to the bucketing rain that restricted visibility of anything twenty metres in front of you. 

Eventually you made it to his apartment, and Danny pulled over on the side of the road to drop you off, seeing as there was no carpark for him to stop in.

“Alright, be safe please. Text if you need anything,” Danny recited, the words he told you each time you parted. It had been that way since you could remember.

“I will! Thanks for the lift!”

Balancing your things in your arms, you quickly jumped out of the car to not hold up and more traffic.

Danny drove off when one of the impatient cars behind him gave him a beep for taking so long. You rushed up to Otis’s apartment building front door, bullets of rain almost soaking you completely as you covered the short distance.

Your shoes splashed heavily on the street which had become one big puddle. You sighed when you finally reached the building, protected from the rain by the large overhang that wrapped around the large building.

As you made your way into the apartment and climbed the levels to his, you glanced at your phone once more to check if he had messaged you, and frowned when there was nothing. A little puffed, you finally reached his unit. Before you knocked, you peeked a glance at the crack at the bottom of the door where a light was being through. So he was home.

You bit back a shiver as you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell. You always liked the tune Otis’s doorbell made. It was quite unconventional, not the normal tune they made and not a jarring ring either, but a nice melody all the same.

You hugged yourself tightly in the cold as you awaited a response, and when you didn’t get one, you rang the doorbell again. Finally, the front door swung open, and you were met with Otis, his slim figure on full display as only a pair of white and blue striped boxers hung low on his hips.

You smiled brightly, despite the fact that he had neglected speaking to you all day. “Happy birthday!” you exclaimed.

He shot you a quick, tight smile, before his face turned serious, eyes scanning the scene behind you. “Thank you Baby, but uh… what are you doing here?” he asked.

You faltered, “What do you mean?”

He looked at you as if you had done something ridiculous, “Well we didn’t plan anything. I hadn’t exactly said you could come over.”

You took a step back into the hallway, “I just thought that…”

You were mortified. But you were also incredibly upset. It was his birthday, but you had still felt some kind of obligation that he at least see you on the special day. He was your boyfriend after all.

“I got worried. You weren’t responding,” you explained, feeling a deep set frown fall to your face.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and you suddenly became very aware of his positioning. He was standing in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame and letting the door hang almost closed behind him while he stepped marginally closer in each moment and effectively backed you further away from the entrance.

“Yeah well, I just got caught up in something.”

Just as you were about to ask what, a slender hand, adorning deep red acrylic nails raked across his bare abdomen.

“Baby, what’s taking you so long?” a sultry voice asked, and you could see longer dark hair peeking behind his body.

Unable to beleive your eyes, your mouth parted in silent shock, face dropping in realisation, and you peered over his shoulder to see the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, clad in only her underwear behind him.

Blinking, you watched as his face morphed into course red embarrassment, and his eyes widened in fear.

“Oh,” you stated.

“No Baby, it’s not what it-” he started, moving towards you to take your arm.

“Stop it. Don’t,” you shook his hands off you, “Don’t touch me.”

Tears instantly welled in your eyes and the lump in your throat felt like it was going to choke you.

“Wha- why?” you managed to choke out. He looked at you sympathetically, but before he could open his mouth, the woman behind him appeared at his side.

If you thought her face was gorgeous, her body was bound to make you pass out. Her breasts were full and round, and her slim, toned waist was a beautiful compliment. Her hips widened at just the right spot, and were void of dips or stretch marks, and it suddenly became glaringly obvious to you where everything had gone wrong.

She gave you a harsh look up and down, assessing your clothing and you could only assume your body. Your arms crossed over your front in insecurity, now regretting the old coat, faded jeans and casual shoes you had thrown on in your state of worry and anticipation.

You hiccuped a sob back when she placed a hand on his chest and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. Otis, to his credit, looked wildly uncomfortable by her actions and tried to shrug her off, looking at you pleadingly.

You couldn’t see any more. You couldn’t stand there for another second longer or you were going to explode.

You wished you were more angry. You should have been furious, yelling at him and ripping your keys out to key his car. But instead, you felt a deep pit of sadness in your belly. The type of pit that drags everything down with it. The type of pit that consumes all it can from its host just to continue its relentless torment.

You needed to get the fuck out of there.

Breathing turned shakey, you turned and walked so quickly down the hallway that you thought you were going to pull a hamstring.

Otis called your name from behind you, and you thanked the Gods that he was too naked to follow you. You descended the stairs in a daze, hot tears running down your cheeks, but you were too focused on getting out that you knew you needed to hold them back.

Once you made it to the building's exit, you realised that you were still cradling the birthday presents you had bought him. In an act of anger, you stormed out of the complex and threw them in a heap onto the grass beside the door, letting all the money you had wasted on him get destroyed under the unforgiving downpour of rain.

Then you realised you were also in the rain. And you were getting soaked. You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up Danny’s contact to call him.

Restricted sobs began to shake your body, and you were having an incredibly hard time maintaining your composure, if you could even call it that anymore.

The phone only rang twice before Danny’s voice spoke through the speakers.

“Hey, what’s up,” he answered casually. You could hear his car keys hitting the little key bowl you had by the front door, indicating he had quite literally just gotten home, making you feel even worse about asking him to come and pick you up.

He called your name in question when you didn’t respond.

“Did you- did you just get home?” you asked, trying feebly to conceal the emotion in your voice, but the sobs and sharp inhales did close to nothing in helping.

“Fuck, are you okay? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, and you could hear the keys jingle again, accompanied by the front door slamming shut.

“I’m,” you tried to say through broken sobs, “I’m okay. I just need- can you come and pick me up? Ple- please?”

“I’m already on my way.” True to his word, you could hear the engine vibrating in the background of the call. “Please tell me what happened. Are you safe?” he asked frantically.

You nodded, before realising that he couldn’t actually see you, “I’m- I’m okay. Just cold,” you began scanning the area, looking for a spot you could stand that was concealed from the rain.

There was no way you were going back inside the complex building, and you quickly realised that your best bet was a tree nearby. You hastily made your way over, sneakers getting ruined in the dirt, each step accompanied by a squelch. The rain wasn’t as relentless under the cover in the tree, but thick drops still fell and coated your skin, hair and clothes. You were shivering violently now, wondering why on earth you hadn’t brought an umbrella.

"Where are you?" Danny's voice was soft but laced with concern.

"Same place you dropped me off," you muttered, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. It wasn't hard to guess that Danny probably knew something had gone wrong with Otis. But you could bet he'd never imagine the full extent of it.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could sense Danny was biting his tongue, holding back from asking the questions swirling in his mind. He knew better than to press you when you were like this, though. Whatever had happened, it wasn't good. That much was obvious.

"Okay, honey, I’m nearly there. Can you try taking some deep breaths while you wait for me, please?" His voice was steady, trying to ground you through the phone. It was only then that you became aware of the sound of your own ragged, gasping sobs.

"Ye-yes... okay." You forced yourself to breathe deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, but each inhale felt heavy, the weight of your chest pressing down harder with every beat of your racing heart. You tried to follow Danny's request, but every time your pulse began to slow, your mind betrayed you. You couldn't stop the image from flashing in your head, those sharp red acrylic nails raking across his chest.

Your stomach churned, nausea rising as you cursed your vivid imagination. What would those hands look like wrapped around his neck, or worse, holding his hand? What would those nails look like tracing against his skin, trailing down his back in the heat of the moment as she whispered his name in his ear? The thought made your blood run cold, and tears welled up in your eyes once again.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thoughts to vanish. But they clung to you, persistent and cruel, reminding you of everything you were afraid to face. It wasn’t just the physical imagery, either. It was the emotional betrayal of the way his eyes might soften when he looked at her, the way he might laugh at her jokes. She probably made him feel something you couldn’t. And he had probably been slipping away for quite some time.

A broken sob escaped your lips, and you clenched your fists at your sides, wishing you could stop thinking about it, wishing you could stop hurting. You knew Danny was close, but the minutes felt like hours. You hated how powerless you felt, sitting there, cold and waiting, suffocated by your own thoughts.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is it’s okay it’ll be okay. I’m nearly there, just hang on a little longer for me, okay?” Danny repeated, hearing your breathing pick up again.

You crouched on the dirt to hug some warmth into you, humming in response to his question. “Danny, can you- can you put the heat on in the car… please. I’m really cold,” you asked and you immediately heard him shuffle with the knobs on the dashboard.

“Are you- are you in the rain?” he asked with urgency.

“I was… I’m standing under a tree now.”

He sighed, “Okay I’m rounding the corner now, can you see me?” he asked and you looked up at the road. True to his word, you could see his black car nearing you as it sped down the road.

“Yes.” You got up and quickly walked to the edge of the street. The rain soaked you again, and you abandoned even attempting to cover your head from its assault.

He pulled up to you at record breaking speed, and breaked harshly beside you on the road. You swung the door open and practically fell into the passenger seat, being immediately engulfed by the warmth of the car.

You slammed the door shut, and muttered a small ‘sorry’ through your shudders as you did up your seat belt.

Being a busy street, Danny had to take off as soon as you were buckled up, and you looked down at the water dripping off your shoes into the car.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he commented, as you tried to take off your top jacket to avoid completely soaking his seats. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, trying to keep your back from the seat to not soak the interior of his car. He had already given you a lift to and from Otis’s house, and the least you could do was not ruin his car in the process. You were trying your hardest to withhold the sobs, but hot tears mixed with the wetness of your face as the lump in your throat began to burn.

“Honey…” Danny comforted when he saw your emotional state. He found the closest quiet street and pulled over on the side of the road. 

As soon as the handbrake was on and the car was in neutral, Danny turned to you, clipping off his seatbelt to reach you better. He reached to unclip your seatbelt too, and without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms. 

Though it had been steadily trickling since you left Otis’s house, the dam completely broke when you felt the familiar and comforting embrace of Danny. He rubbed soothing strokes up and down your soaked back with a soft flat palm, his hand shuddering against each shaky breath you took. 

“Are you hurt? I need to know you’re okay, physically,” he asked, still keeping you tight in his arms. 

“I’m not hurt. I’m okay,” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt behind his back. 

“Shhh,” he cooed as your sobs continued, “What’s going on? What happened?”

You pulled away from him, slipping back into your seat and wiping furiously at your red and wet eyes. “There was,” you shuddered, “There was a woman,” you explained, eyes now trained on the window wipers that feebly tried to push away the waves of water that fell from the sky, “They were both naked.”

“What?” The volume of his voice was jarring in the otherwise silence of the car. You dared not speak, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Danny had warned you that Otis wasn’t a good person, but you had ignored him, and you were now putting the weighted burden of your mistake on his shoulders. 

Danny ran a frustrated hand through his hair and you kept your eyes before you, silent tears now running down your cheeks. 

“She’s really pretty,” you added, and Danny eyed you carefully. He stared at you for a long time, as if trying to see through your skin and into your brain to read every thought that was running through your mind. When he couldn't find anything other than self-loathing and depreciation, he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I- fuck I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” 

You shook in the cold as you stared out the window, unspeaking. When he realised you weren’t going to respond, he turned in his seat again and popped the car back into gear before he continued the drive home. He was watching your body shake violently from the cold and knew that as much as he wanted to hold you until you were better, you needed to get out of your wet clothes and into something warm and dry.

“Don't do that,” Danny said, pulling your thumb away from your mouth as you attacked the skin around it. 

“‘M sorry,” you muttered with a sniffle, pulling your hands to your lap and fiddling with your fingers instead. 

“Don’t apologise.”

You were quiet for the rest of the ride. You replayed the moment over and over in your mind, looking back on how he had blatantly told you that he didn't want you there, that you weren’t invited. All because there was another woman. Had she always been there? Was she just a one night stand or had he been cheating on you for longer?

Danny bit his cheek each time he heard you sniffle, every small sound cutting through him like a knife. He glanced over at you, watching as you hastily wiped your eyes, your fingers trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. The sight of you in pain made his chest ache, and every time your hand darted up to your face, he wished he could reach out, pull you close, and wipe your tears away for you. But he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to smother you when you were clearly teetering on the edge.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he navigated the darkening streets, the quiet hum of the car engine doing nothing to soothe the thick tension in the air. You sat next to him, staring out the window, barely moving, but he could see the steady stream of tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. They glistened in the streetlights as you passed them, and he wanted to say something, anything, but he knew no words could fix what you were feeling.

The ride home felt agonisingly long, each second dragging on as Danny tried to focus on the road and not the heart-wrenching sight of you unravelling beside him. He kept biting his cheek, hard enough to taste blood now, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at you every few seconds, praying you’d somehow find a little bit of peace before they made it home.

When Danny finally rolled into the parking spot, the familiarity of your apartment complex looming ahead causerd the tears that had slowed for a brief moment on the drive started to pour again, the sight of home making everything worse. The thought of being so close to your bed, to the space where you could collapse and let yourself fully break was overwhelming.

Your breath hitched, and you hugged your arms around yourself, trying to stop the shivering that had taken over your body. The cold had seeped into your bones, making you shake uncontrollably, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the freezing rain that had soaked through your clothes or the sadness that seemed to settle deep in your chest.

Danny killed the engine and turned to you, eyes soft and full of worry. “Let’s get you inside, okay?” His voice was gentle, but the concern was clear. He didn’t wait for you to respond, opening his door quickly and jogging around to your side, pulling open the passenger door.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” he murmured, offering his hand to help you out of the car. You hesitated for just a second, but the exhaustion in your body won out, and you took his hand, letting him guide you. As you stepped out, your legs wobbled beneath you, and without a second thought, Danny wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

You leaned against him, your sobs becoming louder now that you were out of the confined space of the car. His warmth was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tidal wave of emotion that had hit you. As he helped you up the steps to the apartment, you clung to his sweater, your cold fingers digging into the fabric as if you could hold onto him and stop yourself from spiralling.

Each step felt heavy, the weight of your sadness pressing down on you like a physical force, and you stumbled a little as you climbed. Danny tightened his grip on you, steadying you with every step, whispering quiet reassurances even though you weren’t sure you could hear them over the sound of your own sobbing.

You weren’t crying for any reason now, yet it felt like your emotional capacity was a heavy ball that had been pushed off a hill. Once it started rolling, you couldn't stop. 

Once inside, the warmth of the apartment hit you, but it did nothing to thaw the ice in your bones. You barely registered Danny closing the door behind you, his arm still around your shoulders as he led you deeper into the space. Despite his support, your mind had already begun its familiar descent into destructive thoughts. If Otis didn’t want you, then who would? The rejection felt like a punch to the gut, and the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

Without a word, you pulled away from Danny, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately but ignoring it as you left him standing in the middle of the living room alone. You made a beeline for your bedroom, your body moving on autopilot. The door clicked shut behind you, and even though there wasn’t a lock, you knew Danny wouldn’t come in. He respected your space, your boundaries, but that knowledge only made the ache in your chest deepen. The loneliness pressed in harder, suffocating.

Inside the sanctuary of your room, you didn’t care that you were drenched to the bone, your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably. The cold had long since numbed your skin, and now it was creeping into your muscles, making your limbs ache with a dull, persistent throb. You shivered violently, your teeth chattering so hard they ached, but it was a distant sensation compared to the emotional storm raging inside you.

You toed off your soaked shoes, not even bothering to untie them properly. Normally, the thought of tracking dirt or water onto your bed would have horrified you as your bed was your sacred space, always spotless, always prepared for sleep in clean pyjamas after a long shower. But tonight, none of that mattered. Your mind was too far gone, too consumed by the thoughts that swirled around relentlessly.

You crawled onto the bed without a second thought, the damp sheets immediately sticking to your wet clothes. The fabric clung to your skin, cold and uncomfortable, but it didn’t register. All you could think about was curling into the tightest ball possible, as if making yourself small enough would somehow make the pain disappear.

The sobs wracked your body violently, each one more painful than the last. You pressed your face into the pillow, muffling the sound, but it didn’t stop the flood of tears from soaking the fabric. Your whole body trembled, not just from the cold, but from the anguish that had taken over.

And still, despite the physical discomfort, despite the relentless sobbing, your mind couldn’t stop fixating on Otis. You kept replaying every word he’d said, every look, every action that made you feel like you weren’t enough. You kept thinking about how he didn’t want you, how he didn’t choose you. That gut wrenching feeling of rejection echoed through you like a broken record, and no matter how much you tried to push it away, it lingered.

But it wasn't the loss of Otis that hurt you so much as the feeling of being left behind for someone better. Your self esteem had plummeted, all feelings of security and trust torn apart with no remorse. 

Minutes passed, maybe longer, until you were dimly aware of the soft knock on your door, Danny’s voice coming through gently.

"Hey… I'm just gonna leave some dry clothes outside the door, okay?" he said, his voice calm but clearly worried. You didn’t respond, too lost in the flood of emotions, but you heard him shuffle around outside before retreating.

A little while later, Danny returned, seeing the pile of clothes left outside untouched. He called your name gently with a brush of his knuckles against the wood, “Can I come in?” he asked cautiously. 

“No,” you called out, muffled in the pillows your face was buried in. 

He hesitated in the silence. “I don’t- I think you need to get out of your wet clothes,” he commented, voice still quiet behind the door. “You might get sick.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult, I’ll do what I want,” you snapped. 

You had no idea where that outburst had come from. You immediately felt guilty as you imagined how Danny would have recoiled at your words and tone of voice. It was glaringly obvious to both you and Danny that you were only acting hostile as a way to protect yourself. Protect the fragile feeling of trust you had so carefully maintained throughout your life.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that… you can come in,” you said so quietly, that Danny may not have even heard you. 

Though with heavy caution, Danny reached down to twist the handle. He knew you didn't mean what you were saying. You were hurt, and had been betrayed in arguably the worst way someone could be. He knew you just needed someone to be in your corner. 

You didn't dare look behind you at Danny as he entered your room, and instead kept your head buried in your pillows. 

“Hey,” he whispered, and you felt the edge of your bed dip as he sat down. He reached out hesitantly, and put his warm palm on your bare arm. He flinched the feeling of your skin, chilled from your still soaked clothes. “Shit, you’re freezing,” he commented. 

With your back still turned, you stared blankly into the plush pillows in front of you, your eyes fixated on the growing wet stain spreading across the fabric. You couldn’t distinguish if it was from your soaked hair or the relentless flow of tears that you had cried. Your pillowcase, usually soft and comforting, now felt cold and uninviting, just another reminder of the misery that clung to you like the dampness in your clothes.

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, each one laboured as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to rise again. The wet patch in front of you seemed to expand with every tear, but you couldn’t muster the energy to wipe your face or even shift positions. 

Everything felt heavy. Your body, your heart, your thoughts. It was as though the weight of everything Otis had said, everything you felt, was sinking into that single spot on the pillow, and no matter how long you stared, it wouldn’t disappear.

“Hey,” he carefully pulled you away from your thoughts. Sniffling, you rolled over to face him, and his heart ached at the sight of you. Eyes and lips swollen, red and raw from your crying, and incessant rubbing. 

“Will you please change into something warmer?” he asked, eyes soft and genuine as he stared at you, his thumb stroking against the cold skin of your arm, “I can help you if you need,” he added. You sighed, hard and long before pushing yourself up from your bed into a sitting position. 

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, letting your head fall into your hands as you groaned, “This is such a mess.”

You looked back up again, assessing the damage you had done to your bed, which carried the consequences of you collapsing in it while still wet. Danny got up quickly, taking the clothes he had left for you outside of your bedroom door and bringing them to you at the bed. 

“I think a warm shower would do you good,” he suggested, “It’ll help you warm up quicker.” The thought of the warm water pouring over your tired and cold muscles seemed like heaven, but now that he was here, you didn't want Danny to leave. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, moving to get up from your bed. Danny rushed out of your bedroom and searched through your shared hallway cupboard for the softest towel he could find. 

He watched as you slowly emerged from your bedroom, posture slumped and insecure, arms wrapped securely around your body. Your jeans and top clung to your body tightly from the slick, and your hair left a wet residue on your neck. 

“I can put the towel in the dryer for you while you shower. That way when you get out it’ll be nice and warm,” he suggested. His attention to detail made you smile. 

Though his offer was kind, you knew what you wanted more than a warm towel. The thought that came into your mind was absurd, and could very possibly make Danny uncomfortable by crossing the boundaries of your friendship that you had both treaded in all those years. But you didn’t want- you couldn’t be left alone, or you feared you would curl up onto the cold tile floors and cry until you died. 

“What's up?” he asked, hand raising to the side of your face to thumb away the remaining tears left on your cheeks. You glanced up at him shyly, trying to reign the confidence to ask him the question.

He frowned at the look of conflict on your face as you debated with yourself, “Hey. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that,” he offered with a kind smile. That same smile that had dried your tears too many times over the years, “‘S only me.”

You took a deep breath, “I just… I don’t know how to say this. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I want- I’m scared of being left alone again,” you admitted though still skirting around the truth of your sudden discomfort. 

“I won't ever leave you alone, you know that. I’m always here for you,” he comforted, stroking your wet hair away from your face in a way that felt so intimate, so domestic, that you nearly began to cry again. 

“Will- um, will you come with me?” you added in a mumble, cheeks heating at your question. 

He cocked his head in confusion, “Come with you where?” 

You swallowed thickly in embarrassment, physically unable to say the words. You were ready to dismiss it, and tell him it didn't matter when realisation struck his face. 

“You mean… come with you to shower?” he asked, surprise reigning his features at your admittance. 

You were a fool. You had just ruined the relationship you had with your boyfriend, and you were already on track to do the same with your best friend.

“I- I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I suggested that, seriously, just forget it, I-”

“No, no, stop. I… I’m happy to… if uh, if that’s what you need,” Danny answered, his heart thumping in his chest at your suggestion. This was a boundary that neither of you had ever crossed. Sure you had seen each other close to nakedness before, but only by pure accident or in the form of skimpy swimwear. 

Both of you knew that doing this was different. Even suggesting it had changed something between the two of you, and it had brought to life the truth that you had both been hiding beneath platonic smiles for your whole lives.

You couldn't look at him, and instead looked at the towel he held tightly in his hands, “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. 

Jaw tight and eyes cautious, he nodded silently. “You go and get started, and I’ll uh, join you in a minute, okay?” he suggested and you tucked a tuft of hair behind your ear. 

“Okay,” you whispered. As you turned to walk away, nerves swelling in your stomach at your decision, Danny cleared his throat again. 

"Are you... do you want me to keep my... um, boxers on?" Danny’s voice was as gentle as ever, like slow dripping honey that coated each word with the tenderness you had come to depend on. It was just Danny, always so considerate, always thinking of how to make you feel comfortable, especially in moments as vulnerable as this.

The question, though spoken with the utmost care, still startled you. Your heart skipped, and you felt a small flutter of uncertainty rise in your chest. You feared that whatever answer you gave might lead to discomfort, but there was a deep, aching need inside you to be close to him. Closer than you had ever been before. Something unspoken tugged at you, a silent yearning to connect with him in a way that transcended the physical.

"If you want. But I don't mind if you don't," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended, as if afraid the wrong words might break the fragile atmosphere.

Before he could respond, you turned and made your way down the hallway to the bathroom, the soft patter of your footsteps against the floor the only sound echoing in the quiet apartment. You gently swung the bathroom door shut, leaving it ajar just enough to let him know that he was welcome. You twisted the shower tap, letting the heavy stream of hot water fill the shower, the sound of it pounding against the tile, a soothing background hum that drowned out the noise in your mind.

Your clothes clung stubbornly to your body as you peeled them off, each article of fabric a reminder of the evening's cold and the emotions that had seeped into your bones. The chill in the air bit at your exposed skin, and a violent shiver racked your body, leaving you trembling as you stood naked in the dim bathroom. You barely spared a glance in the mirror, catching only a fleeting, distorted reflection of yourself, a body that tonight, felt uglier than it ever had. The blotchy redness from your sobs clashed with the paleness of your cold skin, and you looked away quickly, unable to face the image.

Stepping into the shower, you sighed deeply as the hot water cascaded over your head, the sensation washing away the lingering chill. It was a simple pleasure, the heat sinking into your scalp, down your neck, and through your entire body. You tipped your head back, allowing the water to flow over your face, burning just enough to be distracting, before it slid down your shoulders and over the curve of your breasts. For a brief, blissful moment, you forgot about Otis, the heartbreak, the insecurity, everything.

Danny's soft footsteps padding into the bathroom snapped you back to reality, and your heart gave a nervous flutter as you saw his silhouette through the thin shower curtain. You turned, yet could still feel his presence as he shuffled with his things by the countertop, your senses heightened by the silence in the room. As he approached, the shower curtain shifted slightly, letting in a sliver of cool air that made you shiver again, but this time not entirely from the cold.

Wordlessly, you stepped forward, making room for him under the stream of water, and you heard his deep, contented exhale as the warmth enveloped him. You felt a shy smile tug at your lips, though you didn’t dare turn around. The thought of exposing yourself fully to him was daunting, even though you had never felt safer with anyone else.

Reaching up, you grabbed the bottle of vanilla shampoo, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggled to maintain your composure. But before you could open the bottle, you felt Danny’s warmth behind you, not close enough to touch, but enough for you to feel his steady, comforting force and hot, heavy breath by your ear. He reached over your shoulder, his hand brushing yours as he gently took the bottle from you. The touch was brief, but electric, sending a ripple of warmth through your chest.

"Let me," he offered, his breath tickling the skin beside your ear. The shampoo bottle clicked open, the scent of vanilla filling the air as Danny lathered up the shampoo by rubbing it between his large hands.

You stood still, your heart pounding in your chest as his hands moved to your head, slowly threading into your locks and pressing to your scalp. His fingers were strong but somehow gentle as ever, working the shampoo into your scalp in slow, deliberate motions, in a way that made your knees weak. You let out a whispered groan, the sound escaping before you could stop it as your body relaxed under his touch.

This was no longer just about getting clean; this was something else entirely. The both of you, stood there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, and yet there was no awkwardness and no sense of pressure or expectation. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t entirely platonic either. It was something deeper, something built on years of quiet affection, of love that had been waiting patiently for the right moment to reveal itself.

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as he continued to wash your hair. His fingers traced soothing patterns against your scalp, moving with such care that you felt your chest ache with emotion. This wasn’t just an act of kindness. It was love. Pure, unspoken, and unconditional.

He soon rinsed his hands under the water, and touched your shoulder gently as he pulled you back under the stream. He aided with washing the shampoo out of your hair with his hands, running through your scalp and squeezing at your hair as the soapy suds travelled down your hair and down to his feet. 

You had completely forgotten about Otis, you realised, as Danny reached up to grab the bottle of conditioner, doing the same as before but only raking the product through the ends of your hair. 

Your breathing was heavy, and you suddenly felt the urge to cry again, but not out of sadness this time. You turned around to face him, feeling no insecurity over the exposure of your bare body when his burning gaze remained on your face. 

“Danny…” you started, frowning at the overwhelming feeling of your new realisation. Your face told him everything he needed to know, eyebrows pinched in desperation, and tears brimming at your eyes. He had always felt a way for you that he couldn’t act upon, and only now did he see that you could finally feel it too. 

He reached up and cupped your cheek, “I know, sweet girl.” He nodded, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek lovingly, and you leaned into his touch. When he let go, you dropped your head, hanging it low between your bodies, your eyes closed in exhaustion. 

Danny stepped forward slowly, his feet splashing against the pool of water at your feet, and he engulfed you in the embrace of his long arms. Your head fell into the spot between his arm and chest, and that same arm came up to cradle your head. You could feel his bare arm on your back, your breasts pressed against his chest and you flushed at the proximity. 

You desperately tried to hold him too, arms wrapped around his abdomen and folded up to hook your hands over his shoulders. You didn't notice the tears that flowed from your eyes, as they became one with the water that flowed between you both. 

“Danny,” you whispered. He nuzzled into your hair, a comforting gesture that made your heart race. 

“Hmm?” he replied softly, encouraging you to continue. The moment hung heavy in the air, filled with unspoken feelings. 

The feeling was so overwhelming, that you realised you could no longer pretend to be just friends, as the desire to love him loudly completely consumed you. 

Finally, you spoke, your confession bursting forth like a long held secret, “I think I love you.” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, a rush of emotion that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. 

You felt his stomach tighten at your words, and he pulled back slightly to gaze down at you. You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes to see them pleading in wonder. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For so long, he had admired the beauty of your soul in silence, waited in suppressed agony, fearing that revealing his feelings would push you away. Your company was always enough for him to keep his feelings hidden, as just being near you to hear your laughter, your mind and your soul, had been more than enough. 

But now, you were uttering the words he had dreamt of telling you for what felt like his whole life. 

“Always,” he whispered, his sincerity washing over you like a warm embrace. He tucked your wet hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I always have.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his for confirmation. “What?” you managed to ask, your voice breaking. Instead of answering, Danny leaned down, closing the distance between you, and held his face close to yours. He lingered for a moment, as if giving you time to pull away, before he brought his lips to yours in a gentle caress.

His lips were soft and slow against yours, hesitant and testing at the new sensation. Neither of you could believe what was happening, and you marvelled at the intimacy of the moment, the tenderness. Never would you have thought this would be how you ended up, and now that it was happening, there was no going back. 

Danny's hands rested hesitantly beside you, ghosting your skin as he resisted the urge to touch you, as he was painfully aware of your state of undress and didn't want to cross any boundaries. You took them into your own hands, and pulled them to rest on the sides of your waist. He gripped the skin softly at the sensation. 

You mouths explored each other, and you reached your hands up to tangle in his hair as you revelled in the new feeling. It felt as if you had searched every corner of Danny, as your years of friendship had taught you things about him even his family didn't know, yet this was unexplored territory. 

Danny pulled away with a deep inhale, and he took in the sight of your flushed face, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. A small smile crept onto his face at his realisation of what had just happened. 

“You’re so beautiful, d’ you know that?” he whispered, hand gliding up and down the curve of your waist. You looked down shyly, at both the complement and your own understanding of what had just happened.

“You are too,” you mumbled quietly, a blush tinting your cheeks. You could no longer look at Danny without your heart exploding, and when he smiled a bit wider at your words, you turned back around, reaching for the body wash and fiddling with the cap. 

Danny was more hesitant to offer helping you clean your body than he was your hair, ever considerate of your boundaries. You had both taken huge steps in mere minutes, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel rushed. 

You of course knew this, and decided that your bold streak hadn’t ended yet. “Would you… help me with this one too?” you asked quietly, turning to look up at Danny through your lashes.

“Anything,” he answered with a nod, taking the bottle from your hands gently and pouring the soapy substance over his hands. You could tell he was still hesitant, the act of touching you was clearly daunting for him, and you tried your best to show him you were okay. You nodded at him to go ahead, and he gingerly reached his hands to your shoulders, massaging the produce over them, pulling your arms out horizontally so that he could lather it across them too. 

Avoiding the obvious, his hands dragged back up your arms and to your back. You turned for him, letting his strong fingers knead into your muscles, making you hum in approval, head dropping forward at the feeling. He tucked your hair over your right shoulder to move it out of his way. His hands travelled over the expanse of your back, fingers dipping into your dimples of venus, but not treading any further before he pulled them back up, running long stripes either side of your spine.

His hands travelled around your waist then, and you turned again for him as the warmth of his hands spread over your stomach, sides and ribs, hesitating just below your breasts. 

Your stomach flipped as you became aware now that his gaze was not holding its respectful attachment to your face, and was now all over your chest, trying to touch you anywhere but there. 

You bit your cheek, and slowly reached up to take his hand that was settled on your ribs into yours. His eyes flicked to yours as you dragged his hand up your body and rested it on your breast. 

“It’s okay,” you told him. To say that these moments were not entirely sexual anymore would be untrue. And you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t caught glimpses of his situation down below, despite your efforts to keep your gaze above his waist.

Feeling like he would pass out any moment, Danny tenderly ran his hands over your breasts, rounding at the swell and dipping in the valley as he lathered them in the soap. He wasn't hasty to move on, but he didn’t linger for too long, letting you know that he did not expect anything sexual from you. As he washed your upper half, you scrubbed at your bottom, running the soap in your hands over your legs and behind, to speed up the process. 

Danny pulled you back under the stream, and rejected your offer to wash him the same. 

“You’re exhausted, and I’m worried if you spend another minute in the steam you’ll pass out,” he said with a teasing smile, half joking. You frowned at his words. 

“I’m not exhausted, I can do it.”

“Honey…” he started, lifting your arm and showcasing your hands which were trembling without support.

You huffed at his consideration. “Okay, fine… if you’re sure.”

He smiled at you, his hand on your hip squeezing gently, “I am.” He dipped down and gave you a quick peck on the lips, the act startling you, as you had almost forgotten the events that just occurred between the two of you. As if you weren't just guiding his hand to your breasts. As if he weren’t standing before you in those moments, with an obviously painful erection.

You gave him one last smile before you pulled the shower curtain open and stepped out. The cold slapped you in the face and you were quick to shut the curtain behind you to keep Danny warm. Picking up your towel and wrapping it around your body was a beautiful reprieve from the biting cold, and when you looked out of the fogged glass of the bathroom window, you could tell that the rain outside was just as relentless as it was before. 

You listened to foamy soap hit the floor as Danny washed through his own hair while you collected your hairbrush and other essentials, before you silently slipped out of the bathroom door, not bothering to close it all the way behind you. 

Your mood now soaring at heights unimaginable, you padded to your bedroom, a small smile on your face as you thought back on the intimacy of the moments you had just shared. When you stepped into your bedroom though, you were reminded of the mess that was your life. 

Your bed was soaked, sheets and pillows bore big wet patches and you were sure the witness had soaked onto your mattress too. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, before deciding what to do. You shuffled through your pyjama drawers and picked out some long plaid pants along with a white singlet and a hoodie. You changed quickly, not wanting the warmth of your body to succumb to the cold again, and once you were changed, you walked back out of your room and into the living room, where you set up camp on the couch. 

Meanwhile, Danny was running his hands through his wet locks, the water cascading down his face as he replayed those moments over and over again in his mind. He had waited for you for so long. Loved you in silence for so long. And it was all worth it. 

Once he left the shower he wrapped the last towel around his waist, squeezing the wetness out of his hair and leaving it otherwise to air dry. 

As he left the bathroom, he could hear you humming softly in the living room, and he passed his room to see you again. Danny watched in admiration at you, dressed comfortably while you typed and scrolled on your phone, cross legged on the couch, Your wet hair hung down your back, but your sweater protected you from the cold this time. 

He frowned when he saw the couch, set up in a way he could only assume was your attempt to sleep on it. 

The sound of his arrival got your attention, “Hey, I’m ordering Thai delivery,” you said, eyes still trained on your phone as you typed in your card details.

Danny smiled warmly at you, “Great, thanks…um, what’s all this?” he asked, hands gesturing to the makeshift bed you had set up on the couch. Although just seeing him completely naked, and having that naked body pressed against your own, you stifled at the sight of him with only a towel around his waist.

You cleared your throat and averted your gaze, “Oh, my bed is really wet from… you know, lying on it earlier.”

He shook his head, “No, you aren’t sleeping on the couch. I have a double, you can sleep with me.” He immediately blushed at the alternate innuendo his words held, “Not like sleep together, just you know, go to sleep,” he tripped over his words anxiously, making you force back a smile. 

“Are you sure? I’m fine to-” 

“Yes I’m sure. One hundred percent,” he assured quickly before he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, “I mean, we did just shower together.”

Now it was your turn to blush, and you looked back to your phone to hide your face, agreeing quietly. 

Danny retreated to his room to get into his pyjamas, and quickly tidied the space up, feeling self conscious at the state his room was in, shoving his clothes into his drawers haphazardly, and others he took to the laundry basket. Once he was satisfied, he returned to the living room. 

He sat down beside you, his thigh brushing yours and you suddenly became insecure of where you both stood. Usually, it would be normal for you both to be sitting close together, laughing and chatting through movies, but now, things were different. You didn't want to come across as pushy and rushed, but similarly didn't want to do the opposite, act cold or distance after the moments you had shared. 

If Danny was having the same fears, he didn’t let it show, as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer to him while he leaned over to reach for the TV remote with a grunt. 

“Watcha wanna watch?” 

You and Danny settled on the first movie you could, only pausing to get your takeout delivery from the door, before you returned to your position, which seemed to be steadily moving closer to Danny with each reposition or shuffle. 

By the time the film was over and your bellies were full, you were exhausted. You had been emotionally wrecked throughout the day, ranging from betrayal and heartbreak, to renewal and love. 

Danny steadied you by your elbow as you stood, helping you gather your things to take to his room. You were too sleepy to feel nervous. 

“Which side do you sleep on?” you asked as you stood by the doorway. 

Danny scratched the back of his head, “Usually the right, but I don't mind. I move around a lot when I sleep anyway.” Truth be told, Danny rathered that you slept on his side, as he knew that his pillow would smell like you by morning.

It apparently didn't matter though, as when you slipped under the covers of the left side of the bed beside him, his senses were overwhelmed with you. Your smell, your energy and your heat. It also wasn’t long before the two of you closed the distance between you, arms and legs tangled in your attempts to be impossibly closer to one another, your fronts pressed together just like the moments you shared in the shower. 

It all felt so normal. You attributed it to being friends for your whole lives, giving you the ability to close emotional distance without second thought, but it was still startling nonetheless. 

“Thanks again for letting me sleep here, it’s definitely more comfortable than the couch,” you whispered, and he reached behind him to turn off the bedside lamp.

Now cloaked in darkness, you relied only on your hearing to navigate Danny beside you. The rain was still pouring outside the window, and in a way, it felt fitting as a reminder of your day. While a disastrous storm brewed outside, you were safe and warm with Danny at home. 

“Maybe… maybe we could make it a regular thing?” Danny asked nervously. “You know, since you love me and all that,” he teased, trying to ease the tension of his suggestion. You groaned in embarrassment and buried your head into his chest, hearing his chuckles vibrate in his chest. 

“I would like that very much, thank you.”

“Don't thank me. You have no idea how happy I am to have you with me like this right now.”

You sighed deeply, and decided it was your turn to tease. “And just how long have you felt this way for me, hm?” 

Danny chuckled dryly but swallowed, hesitating to tell you in case it made things weird. He didn’t want you to feel that his friendship had ever been false, or as a ruse to gain your attention in that way. 

His nose brushed against your forehead, “I’ve known for sure since eighth grade.” His statement was heavy, and it hung in the air wearily as he waited for you to respond. 

You pulled your head away from him, “Eighth grade?! Danny… what- why didn’t you say anything?”

He sighed, “I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” 

You understood, but wished he had told you sooner, as though you hadn’t ever realised it was quite love, you knew that you never would have turned away the idea of being with Danny like that. 

“We wasted so much time,” you sighed. 

“What? You mean you felt the same?” he asked, shock lacing his words as his hand tightened around your frame. 

You nodded, “You’ve always treated me better than any boy I ever went out with. I just didn't think that- I didn't think that this was a possibility. I thought you were too good for that. Too-”

“Too good for what?” 

“You know, like with your band and stuff. I don't know, I guess I thought you had more important people to see than me. I didn’t ever think you could actually see me like that,” you tried to explain. 

Danny groaned, “Oh God. I’m never gonna live this down.”

Your brow creased in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Sammy knew I liked you before I even did, used to tease me about it all the time. The three of them have watched me act like an idiot around you for years. I can't believe you thought that I was ‘too cool’ for you.” He chuckled, though regret laced the dry laugh. 

You felt mild embarrassment at the thought that the boys, who you’d become close with the years that you knew Danny, were keeping the secret from you that would ultimately change your life indefinitely. 

He whispered your name, pulling you from your thoughts, “I have always loved you. Nothing will ever change that.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, clutching his shirt in your hands as you shuffled incredibly closer to him. He smelt like Danny, the comfort you had grown to turn to after many years of safekeeping your heart. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl.” You felt him kiss the top of your head, followed by the feeling of his nose nuzzling into your hair and sighing deeply. 

“Goodnight Danny.”

As you welcomed the blankets of exhaustion over your spent body, Danny began to hum a familiar tune, his voice sounding distant in your haze of sleep. Soon, the song became unmistakably recognisable. 

Because, by The Beatles. Your favourite song.

[peachyfnaf]

I'm sorry but "MY BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS WITH A DISORDER<3" really made my day and I needed you to know

🤣🤣🤣

I can't believe Nexus is bullying peepaw war criminal.

Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?

(Please talk about baby cringe Lord Nexus, I want to hear about your blorbo 🙏)

That's because Nexus IS my beautiful princess with a disorder, I'll have you know <3 they're diseased but it's okay I can give them their tetanus and flu shots and it'll all be better I GOT THIS

But. ahem, okay, blorbo yapping time. I'm not even gonna say "I'll try to keep this short" because I know it wont end up that way HAHAHAHAHA

"Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?"

I... have absolutely no idea!!!1! (and also it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize peepaw war criminal was Ruin KJDFHSDF)

The most frustrating thing about canon Nexus is how his morals, motivations, and goals seem to see-saw back and forth all the time. at first, he became how he is now due to Solar's death. he spiraled in his grief, identity-issues, and abandonment. but... now his motivation is to become an all powerful god??? while it's most likely that NSP is at play and affecting his thought process, it's... well, it's really hard to take him seriously as a villain because of it, lol. for an audience to enjoy, and even sympathize in some cases, with a villain, their goals and motivations have to be concrete. they have to be relatable, or at least understandable, but Nexus' whole thing is... not, Imho. and I know I'm not the only person who feels this way!!!

I see a lot of people calling Nexus "cringe", and the thing is, when it comes to canon Nexus, they're not really... wrong??? The worst thing Nexus has done so far is make Old Moon see his past victims, which is fucked up of him to do, but.. so far, that's kind of it??? other than that, his "villainy" consists of saying empty threats and cheesy evil one-liners. hell, he was supposed to kidnap Sun yesterday but instead spent the whole episode yapping and venting to him, chasing Sun around in the worlds darkest game of tag before getting some lead right in the face dkfjhsdfsd

Also, notice how he's only targeted Old Moon when it comes to actual physical violence? not Lunar, Earth, Solar, or Sun, but Old Moon? yeah, I did too. we already know that Nexus does everything because he's lashing out, but as of rn the only target he's gotten his hands on physically being O.M...? well. I think it says a lot. cause' yeah, he sure as shit scared the life out of the other Celestials, but he's never put his hands on them!! the only other one of them he harmed physically was Earth- and not only was he not aiming for her, she was just in the way- he felt immediate regret for his actions once in space, and has yet to even see Earth ever since that day.

So, I really have no idea if he's going to be "redeemed" or not. one second he's showing signs he might be, and the next he's falling further down the "pretty badly written villain" rabbit-hole. if he does get something akin to a redemption arc, he'll prolly mostly be accepted in the eyes of the viewers, considering a lot of peeps sympathize or at least understand where he's coming from, but I seriously doubt the other Celestials would take him back. the only one's who might see him as family/a close friend again are Sun and Solar, but even then, nothing would ever be the same.

I hope he gets redeemed, or at least freed from the hold Dark Sun has on him and he's able to live his own life, I really do. at his core, Nexus is a good person. a good person who was crushed under the weight of the shadow of the man he was born under. and we know this because he used to be New Moon. sweet, dorky New Moon.

New Moon, who made inventions like sentient knives and whoopee cushions. New Moon, who had matching My Little Pony stickers with his best friend. New Moon, who bought a whole ass island-luxury-house for Sun because he wanted to make him feel better and give him the proper space to heal. and New Moon- the poor freshly-baked A.I who gave his all to make sure he could do everything that Old Moon could, but it just wasn't enough. he tried and tried and tried, but it wasn't enough.

So yeah, idk if he's getting one in canon, but to me, he more than deserves a good ending, for the life he was given. let him be at peace.

[mendeshoney]

this close isn't close enough

a/n: happy thirsty thurday fellow harlots ^_^

this is a small little part 3 ish/sequel to take me back to eden (you can find part one here and part two here) that just popped into my head and i figured i'd jot it down for you all to enjoy. it does discuss wanting and trying for a child, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, this may not be for you, so read with caution. this is for @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech because without them this fictional andrei wouldn't exist! title is from "melt" by kehlani

warnings/tags: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, slice of married life, baby fever, fluff, lots of smut, shower sex, hotel sex (semi-public, against the window), oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation

word count: 12,163

“Almaznyy?” Andrei calls out, removing his reading glasses with one hand as he shuts his laptop with the other, then rubs the bridge of his nose.

He counts to ten in his head, waiting for your response, but it doesn’t come. The soft and familiar whrrrrr of a machine echoes back at him instead, and he sighs, a small smile stretching across his face as he gets up from his desk to wander down the hall.

When he makes it down the hall and to the threshold that leads to you, he's not surprised in the slightest to find you at your pottery wheel. Your back is to him as you sit on your stool, headphones on as your body lightly moves along to the music playing, hands firm and shaping the clay in front of you into what he knows is the makings of a teapot.

Beside you, on the work table, Andrei sees two mugs newly finished with their handles attached, two finished matching saucer plates that need to be painted with glaze and fired, and two little spoons, already fired and glazed, probably newly taken out of the kiln. Beyond that, he also spots two jars - one for honey and one for sugar cubes, you had told him - and three brand new jars of glaze.

He takes a second to himself to just silently admire you, his beautiful wife of nearly two years, and lets his heart beat wild and content in his chest.

Andrei had converted one of his guest rooms into your own little art studio not long after you moved in with him, and by converted, he means he took out all the furniture, stripped the carpet, and let you decorate and furnish it how you saw fit.

He tried his best to learn as much as he could about what kinds of art you liked creating, the tools you used, but in truth, a lot of it was lost on him, and you had more mediums of art you were interested in than you cared to admit. Andrei had ended up giving you his card instead, telling you to buy whatever it was you needed or wanted, so that the space became exactly what you had always dreamed of.

You had been meticulous about it, too, and Andrei adored every second of watching you design the space back then. The flooring was first - you insisted on water and stain proof vinyl floors - followed by shelves, storage drawers, a small desk, your massive work table, and other organizing things. Then, once you had a place and space for everything, you bought canvases, a pottery wheel, clay, easels, paints, a sketchbook, pencils, pens, markers, and more.

You’d bought a kiln, too, which had its own place in a little shed he bought and had built for you outside. Since you'd gotten back into pottery and started making pieces, you'd been able to sell some to a few of the wives, girlfriends, and partners of players on the team, as well as some of Andrei's co-workers in the Canes' front office. You had even put a few up of your paintings and drawings you'd done on your larger canvases in their charity auctions over the last couple of years, which had given you a significant amount of your own money.

Andrei encouraged you to go legit and open up a shop, which was an idea you'd been slowly getting used to. You'd set up a website so far, and had sold your first collection a couple of months ago - planters and vases and hanging planters and such - which had done extremely well, but you insisted you wanted to still be able to find fun in doing it again instead of allowing it to feel like an obligation.

To help with that as of late, had been your project of a tea set for his mom's birthday, which was still months away. You'd been using the kiln a lot more because of it, for test pieces as well as the actual pieces themselves, so more often than not lately, your art studio is where he found you.

"If you call for me and I don't respond to you in ten seconds," you'd told him when you first started on the set, "I'm either in here, or at the kiln out back."

Quietly, he observes as you shape the lump of clay in the center of your wheel into a sphere, then, unhappy with the roundness, you carefully squeeze at it until it's back into another lump, before shaping it out once more. The rise of your shoulders before they tense as you start to create a hole in the middle of the clay, and the fall of them again when you start to pinch at the walls until it forms into the exact shape you want.

Only when you stop the wheel and dip your hands into the bowl of water beside you to get rid of the excess clay does Andrei approach, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head back, bumping it into his abdomen gently as you gaze up at him with his favorite dazzling smile. He carefully removes your headphones, putting it on the work table and smoothing your hair down.

"Hi baby," he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then to your lips.

You hum softly before sitting up, turning yourself around on the stool to face him. "Hi handsome," you return, grabbing a towel from the work table and wiping your hands before settling them on his waist, fingers playing with the belt loops of his jeans. "Did you call for me a lot?"

"Just once," he says, unable to resist bending down to kiss you again.

He loves looking at you like this, soft in the mid morning light, a blissful smile on your face with dots of clay and glaze over your cheeks and on the little apron you have covering your clothes. He loves how he can smell the vanilla of your body wash among the earthen scents in the art studio, and how it makes him feel like he's completely at peace.

Andrei loves you. His almaznyy. His beautiful diamond. His wife.

"What's going on?" You ask him, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the edges in another one of his favorite smiles when his hands descend into your hair, carding the strands between his fingers.

"I bought the tickets for us to go and visit Evgeny and Sara." He says.

"Oh good," you say with a nod before leaning into his touch. "When do we leave?"

"Next week," he says, tugging playfully on a strand of your hair and chuckling softly when you pout at him for it. "Is that okay?"

You wrap your arms around his waist, rubbing your face into his clothed abdomen, your verbal response muffled in the fabric. Andrei laughs, scratching gently at your scalp. "What was that, almaznyy?"

"Da," you say, leaning back to look at him again but keeping your arms secured around his waist. "That's fine with me."

He smirks when he spots a familiar glint in your eyes, watching the way your pupils dilate then blow out a little wide when he cups your face in his hands, thumbs caressing at your jaw. "My busy little almaznyy, you've been working hard lately, haven't you?"

You nod, humming in agreement. He nods too, letting one of his hands trail down and to the back of your neck, deftly undoing the knots at the top of your apron. "So diligent," he praises, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Your eyes track him as he removes his hands from your body, lowering himself to his knees so he can wrap his arms around your waist to get at the ties behind you. He buries his face into your neck as he does so, adoring the way your head immediately tilts to allow him the room. He ghosts his lips across the skin as he undoes the ties around your waist, ignoring your little whines of protest when he pulls the apron off of you and tosses it to the side.

He sits back on his haunches, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin of his own. "You got clay on your clothes too, almaznyy." He playfully chastises, gesturing towards the little flecks of clay on the black shirt you're wearing - which is most definitely his - and to the miniscule spots on your sweatpants. "Think we should probably get you cleaned up in that case, shouldn't we?"

A small smirk crosses your lips as you nod, and Andrei smiles, surging up to wrap you in his arms. You go easily, both your bodies on muscle memory as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he lifts you into his hold easily, standing with you and carrying you off down the hall to your bedroom.

~

The warm spray of the shower cascades down his bare back as Andrei fucks you slow and deep against the tiles, his arms settled into the space behind your knees as he holds you up and open for him.

Your cries echo around the bathroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair, grasping at the strands desperately, his name a repeated plea on your lips.

"More," you beg sweetly, and he smiles, eyes locked on your face. He lowers you a little bit, and on the next push in, your eyes flutter shut as your mouth falls open in a beautiful cry, pussy squeezing around his cock in a way that makes him so fucking dizzy.

"Come on baby," he coaxes, pressing you impossibly closer against the tiles and against himself, burying his face in your neck to suck a bruise into the skin. With every press of his hips forward, your clit grinds against his abs, and he can feel the way your body begins to tense up and shake in his hold, your nails disappearing from his scalp to dig into his shoulders instead.

His name leaves your lips in another desperate plea, and he chuckles, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, your jaw, before capturing your lips in a filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue with yours before he pulls away just slightly, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he goes.

"Is my pretty wife going to come on her husband's cock?" He taunts, and he sees the way the words go straight through you, your eyes glazing over, body going almost lax in his grip.

(He'd gotten much filthier and practically insane with his dirty talk over time. It started not long after you'd left Eden and began officially dating nearly seven months after meeting, and had only gotten more intense during the three month time span that you'd been engaged. It didn't help the fact that he noticed you particularly loved when he called you his wife, regardless of the situation.)

"Andrei," you plead. "Please."

"Please what, pretty baby?" He murmurs, dragging his lips against yours lazily, "What is it my pretty wife wants, hm?"

Your pussy squeezes down again and he groans, stealing another filthy kiss from you. "'M so close," you say between kisses, dragging your nails across his shoulders again.

He keeps your legs hooked over his bent arms, reaching his hands down to squeeze at your waist, thumb rubbing gently over where he knows a little diamond tattoo sits at your side, fucking you onto his cock in deep, sharp thrusts that steal your breath from you, and your eyes squeeze shut as your body shakes even more in his hold.

Andrei latches his lips to that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing his body tight against yours. That, and the added friction as your clit rubs against his abs, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chiseled chest, has you coming around him with a loud cry. Your pussy clamps down, pulsing around him and Andrei groans, holding you tight as he fucks past the grip, chasing after his own orgasm.

He groans low and deep, electricity shooting up his spine as he comes, filling you from where he's buried deep. It sends your body into a second orgasm almost immediately, and Andrei curses, muttering a string of Russian in your ear at the unexpected sensation.

You both take a blissful, fucked out moment to calm down, heartbeats slowing and breathing returning to normal.

"Okay?" He murmurs after a few minutes, and you nod, sighing happily in his hold. He taps your hips, and you nod again. An unhappy sounding noise leaves you when he gently pulls out, and his heart aches a little bit, thinking you’re probably sore. He’s immediately pressing apologetic kisses to your forehead while lowering you to the ground. His hands stay on your body, keeping you steady until you manage to stand on your own.

When his eyes finally get back to your face, there's an expression there he hasn't seen before, one he can't quite place. There's a tinge of disappointment there, and longing, and it brings a frown to his face too.

He cups your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. When your eyes lock, the expression fades, and the smile that takes over your face is so brightly it almost knocks him off of his feet.

"What's wrong, almaznyy?" He says, thumb brushing against your cheeks.

You lean into his touch, hands circling around his wrists. "Nothing, Drei." You promise, "I'm perfectly happy."

There's nothing in your voice or in your face now that tells him that you're lying, or that you're hiding anything from him, so he has no reason to not believe you.

Still, he stores the expression he saw away for later, keeping it in mind just in case.

He takes his time washing you both off after that, enjoying the content noises you make as he shampoos your hair and wraps you up in a fluffy towel when you're all done, pressing gentle kisses all over your face before seizing your mouth in a kiss he hopes tells you "I'm so in love with you I think my heart might burst without you."

~

Andrei quickly darts out of the way as a little boy zooms past him, his father chasing after him and tossing a “sorry!” over his shoulder as he goes.

He laughs a little, calling out a “it’s okay!” in their way as he double checks that he still has a hold on your drinks and food before he keeps walking. 

He heads back into the airport lounge and straight for you, handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a warmed up croissant from one of the bistros in the terminal. You accept it with a happy smile and a murmured ‘thank you’ before he snuggles up next to you on the little couch you’ve both managed to commandeer for yourselves.

He glances over at your airport outfit once more, mostly because he can’t help but appreciate how cozy you look.

Admittedly, he’s still got a small habit of dressing up when he flies, so he’s his standard in black pants and a white shirt, and you insisted on matching with him when you got dressed this morning. You’re in black lounge pants, a white shirt, and you have a gray sweater tied and resting around your shoulders.

Andrei figured out that when you fly you prefer to have your own blanket with you, which you have curled around your shoulders right now as you take a sip of your hot chocolate.

You look more ready for a cozy winter than you do for a week-long vacation during the summer in San Jose.

“Is it good baby?” He asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. You nod, holding the cup to your cheek. Another thing he learned - you get cold easily, but especially in airports.

“Very,” you nod, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder. “Spasibo, malysh.”

“You’re welcome, almaznyy.” 

He’s content to relax like that with you, and when he takes his phone out once you’ve finished your drinks, you help him with the crossword puzzle game he became addicted to once he saw you playing it yourself.

The two of you are engrossed in trying to figure out a six letter word for the clue “tough” when there’s a blur of pale yellow accompanied by a flurry of giggles that crashes into your legs, and it makes both of you jump up a little in surprise.

It’s a baby boy, Andrei realizes, one who’s most likely just learned what running is given the delighted and mischievous expression on his face, and when he turns to check if you’re okay, he’s surprised to find you out of your seat, blanket abandoned, and kneeling on the floor in front of the child to see if they’re okay.

The baby looks like he’s seconds from crying, but then you’re smiling, speaking at him quietly and gently, and to Andrei’s amazement, the baby stops, looks at you, and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

You laugh, happy that you could make him feel better, and continue to speak to him while he babbles away at you. He’s seen you do it with Luka, coaxing him away from a tantrum he’d been seconds away from, and calming Mila down when she scraped her knee while learning to ride her bike that first time, and it still amazes him how good you are with kids. Something warm and fuzzy starts to grow in his heart, and it stops short when a woman who Andrei can only assume is the baby’s mother approaches.

“I’m so sorry!” She says, jogging toward where you and the baby are on the ground. “Leo’s just discovered how fast he can move but we’re still working on finding his brakes.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her through a laugh. “My nephew Luka was the same.”

My nephew - Andrei still loved that you thought that way.

“He probably had places to be and we were just in the way, weren’t we Leo?” You tease, pulling a funny face at Leo. His mom laughs when Leo bursts into giggles, picking Leo up into her arms.

“He’s fast,” Andrei notes when you stand with her, “How old is he?”

“He just turned one,” his mom gushes. 

You make a little cooing sound. “Is he your first?”

Leo’s mother shakes her head with a laugh. “You’d think so, but I have a three year old too. His name’s Sky, he’s with my husband over there, we finally just got him to settle down but then this little guy decided it was time to sprint.”

You and Andrei look over to where Leo’s mom gestured, finding the three year old who almost ran him over earlier eating snacks while his dad watches over him, all the while looking over at his wife and smiling when he sees her.

Andrei knows that smile, he probably sends that same smile your way about a hundred times a day. 

Ulybka vlyublennogo muzhchiny. His mom had said. The smile of a man in love.

“You should think about getting them into sports soon.” Andrei says when he turns back toward the mom, “Sky almost tackled me in the terminal earlier-”

“-And Leo barely flinched when he ran into me!” You tease, making another funny face at the baby. He giggles, suddenly growing shy as he hides in his mom’s shoulders.

She laughs, “Everyone’s been saying that to me. I might just have to consider it.”

Andrei reaches into his pocket, grabbing his business card from his wallet and hands it to the mother with a small smile. “If you ever think they’re interested in hockey, give me a call or send me an email. I’d be happy to get them set up.”

The mother takes Andrei’s card with a curious look, and when she reads his name, her eyes light up in recognition, and she smiles, laughing a little to herself.

“I knew you looked familiar! My husband and I are big fans. We were there for your last cup winning game. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Andrei catches the glance you shoot at him from the corner of his eye, can see the tense line of your shoulders in his peripheral, but he gives the mother an easy smile, and your body relaxes.

Now that he has you, that time in his life isn’t so painful anymore.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely. “I’m glad that you were there, it felt good to have home crowd support.”

“I appreciate your offer, I’ll definitely reach out.” She says, then looks at both of you. “It was nice meeting you both, you’re such a lovely couple!”

You both say your goodbyes, you waving at baby Leo, who waves back shyly, then looks at Andrei. Andrei waves too, and to his surprise, baby Leo waves back to him too, before burying his face in his mother’s shoulder.

You finally return to your seat on the couch next to Andrei, wrapping both of your arms around his, resting your chin on his shoulder as you smile brightly up at him.

“That was hot of you.” You say, which has Andrei laughing in surprise.

“What was, almaznyy?”

“You and your business cards.” You say, scrunching your nose a little. “I liked it, it was very authoritative.”

Andrei shakes his head, booping your nose with his finger. “Calm yourself down, almaznyy. I’m still not interested in being part of the mile high club.”

You roll your eyes with a shrug, but relax fully against his side. “Offer still stands.”

~

You're laying on the floor of Sara and Evgeny's living room, laughing as you bounce eight month old baby Alexei up and down against your belly, watching as his little legs kick back and forth and he babbles his joy. From beside you, three year old Luka lays on his belly as he plays with the train set Andrei had bought him last Christmas, and five year old Mila rests on your other side, coloring diligently in the sketchbook you'd bought her for her birthday.

She'd seen you drawing in one of your journals and had become both enraptured and amazed as she observed you, and then had been overjoyed when you handed her the book and pencil so she could create her own drawings as she pleased.

Her parents had been worried that she might accidentally press the pencil too tight and ruin one of your other drawings, or accidentally draw over something you had done, but either way, you would have cared less. "It's good for her to do it this way," you had told them, "so she knows what she makes is important, too."

On the couch above you, Sara's feeding a bottle to Alexei's twin brother Aleksander, watching you and her children. She smiles, nudging you gently in the side with her socked feet.

"You're a natural at this," she praises. "The kids always seem to behave better when you're here."

You scoff a little, making nonsensical noises at Alexei as he babbles back at you. "Hardly," you say. "I think it's because Andrei wears them out first."

When you and Andrei come around, he tends to round up his niece and nephews, tiring the older ones out by running around while you and Sara or Evgeny or Andrei's parents help with the twins.

Sara shakes her head. "No, he might wear them out, but they still have plenty of room to be crazy. You settle them down. This is the quietest they've been all day."

You look at your nieces and nephews at where they each are, peaceful and happy and content, and you shrug, smiling a little to yourself. "I guess so."

Sara laughs, nudging you again. "So, when are you gonna have some little ones of your own? We're outnumbered by boys here and it's your turn to pop a baby out for once."

You falter slightly, almost dropping baby Alexei straight on your face before you catch him effortlessly, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness when you launch yourself upright into a sitting position. Luka and Mila barely spare either of you a glance, too focused on what they're doing. You gaze at Sara, holding Alexei tight with one hand while shushing her with the other.

"Not so loud!" You half whisper, half yell.

Andrei and Evgeny were just in the kitchen not too far away, and while they were probably distracted by shop talk, you couldn't risk him hearing like this.

Sara narrows her eyes at you, frowning, whisper-yelling right back. "You told me on the phone last week that you were going to talk to him about it! And the week before that, and two weeks before that!"

You groan, shaking your head and beginning to bounce Alexei again when he starts to fuss. Sara shakes her head right back at you, gesturing for you to follow her as she heads toward the twins' nursery, instructing Mila and Luka to "wait right here while mommy talks to your aunt."

As you head to the nursery, you pass Andrei and Evgeny who are, as expected, engrossed in their conversation, but it doesn't stop Andrei from tossing a wink at you as you pass by.

You pointedly ignore the way it makes butterflies swarm and swoop in your stomach, smiling softly in return before ducking out of sight and into the nursery. Sara shuts the door behind you, giving you a pointed look as she does so.

You'd had best friends before, obviously, but never an older sister figure, and none quite like Sara. When Andrei had introduced you two, she'd been nothing but welcoming, friendly, and someone you'd come to rely on quite a lot since then.

When she announced she was pregnant with twins last year, you'd been overjoyed for her, and often traveled back and forth between San Jose and Raleigh to help her with the babies, especially since it had been Evgeny's first year working with the coaching staff of the Sharks, having previously been in the front office.

Maybe it was the excitement you got in helping her decorate the nursery, even though most of it was taken care of since they had things from Luka and Mila, or maybe it was just all the preparation you helped her with, but it had given you severe baby fever.

Like...severe.

Severe enough that you were practically ready to be pregnant that very same day until reality kicked in and knocked some serious sense into you.

You'd asked her how she and Evgeny had approached the topic of having kids, if she had advice on how you should broach the subject with Andrei, and she had only one thing to say.

"They're pretty direct people," she had said. "It's best to rip the bandaid off with something like that."

A couple of months ago, she texted you a picture of the twins in the matching pajama set you'd bought, and something in it made you want to finally talk to Andrei about it. So you told Sara that you would.

But...

The second you'd gone to Andrei in his office about it, you suddenly got cold feet. Realistically, you two hadn't actually talked about having kids before. Things with the two of you had been unconventional and fast from the start, so granted, you both had done things a little messily and quite backwards.

Still, the worst he could say to you was "no" or "not right now baby," but despite your past mess you two had always been on the same page, so the idea of hearing a "not right now" was okay, but hearing "no"?

Yeah, not something you had exactly prepared yourself for.

So instead of allowing there to be room for a "no" or "not right now," you just...didn't say a word.

Which Sara was definitely going to yell at you for.

Or at least, whisper yell, what with the twins going down for their nap and all.

Sara lays a droopy Aleksander into his crib, and he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. She takes Alexei from you next, sitting in the rocking chair set up in the corner of the room to start to feed him his bottle while you sit on the floor, gazing at baby Aleksander through the bars of his crib.

"What in the world are you waiting for?" Sara asks you, voice soft but firm in the nursery. 

You groan a little to yourself. "I just haven't gotten around to it, okay?"

"Yes, but why?" She presses. "You know he won't say no to you."

"I actually don't know that. He might not be able to say no when I ask for help, or ask for something, but children are not things to ask for. It's an entire human being you're bringing into the world, you know!"

Sara gives you a deadpan expression. "Of course I know, I've brought four of them into existence."

"Then you know that it's a lot to ask. Even if I want a child, even if I want to be a mom and raise my kids and bring them up, that doesn't guarantee that Andrei wants the same."

"He'll want them with you." Sara insists. "He'll want them because you'll be their mother and he's in love with you and those kids will be half of you and he'll be so proud to say that they're your children."

The idea fills you with hope, but you tamp it down. You have to be realistic about this. You know your husband, and you know that while Sara's right and he will do anything for you, he also probably won't handle this being sprung on him as a surprise, or appreciate being confronted with it out of the blue.

"Just get rid of your birth control and tell him you want a kid." Sara insists, and your eyes bug out of your head.

"Are you insane?" You whisper yell. "That would definitely give him a heart attack."

"Don't be so dramatic," she says, rolling her eyes. "He's too young to have those."

"I'll talk to him," you promise, more to yourself than to Sara. "But I'm not using any of your suggestions."

Sara shrugs. "Fine by me, but there'd better be a new baby next Christmas, and it won't be mine."

~

In the kitchen, Andrei watches with fond eyes as you disappear into the nursery with Sara and the twins. He's listening to what Evgeny's talking about, he really is, but his eyes are locked on the silent screen of the baby monitor, showing you handing Alexei off to Sara after Sara's put Aleksander down.

Watching you with his niece and nephews all day had filled his heart with something warm and fuzzy, something he couldn't quite place.

The way that you cared for his family since he introduced you to them was something that made Andrei incredibly happy, and he could tell that the way that they cared for you in turn made you just as happy.

He often caught you speaking with his mother on the phone, trying your best to only stick to Russian as best as possible to make her comfortable. His father didn't reach out often, but when he did, you did your best to converse with him too. Sometimes, when you thought Andrei wasn't looking, he'd see you reading through a Russian textbook in your art studio, brushing up on the language.

You talked to Sara almost every week, the two of you growing to be as close as sisters, and that made Andrei happy considering the only real sibling relationship you had was still pretty strained. Even after Andrei married you, your brother Joshua still wasn't his favorite person, which was unfortunate, considering his husband Sam was an angel and one of your favorite people.

Evgeny had also grown closer to you a little, considering how much you helped him and Sara prepare for the arrival of the twins. There were times he'd reach out to you if he couldn't reach Andrei for any reason, and Evgeny often teased Andrei about how more often than not, it seemed like a freak accident that he'd managed to find someone like you to be his wife.

"Believe me," Andrei had told his brother. "I know."

He listens intently to his brother as he discusses what's going on with the Sharks, clearly seeking Andrei's advice, but all the while, Andrei keeps his eyes on you, watches you through the baby monitor as you sit with Sara and the twins.

Everything about your body language screams comfort, like there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be, and it brings a smile to his face unconsciously.

Evgeny pauses in his ranting, glancing to the baby monitor and rolling his eyes, shoving at Andrei. "Obrashchat' vnimaniye," he scolds. Pay attention.

"I am!" Andrei insists, turning his full attention back to his brother. "You were saying?"

Evgeny opens his mouth, then closes it, a curious expression crossing his features. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" Andrei asks, moving his brother so he can go into the fridge and steal one of those obnoxious glass bottles of water Evgeny insists on buying.

"About what comes after marriage," Evgeny says. "About having kids."

Andrei almost drops the water bottle on the kitchen floor, can hear it shatter in his ears, but he's pretty sure that's his brain doing that. "About what?" He asks, voice practically an echo in his head.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Ty takoy idiot."

Andrei turns to face him, frowning. "I am not an idiot."

"You are, actually. Have you two not talked about having kids?"

Andrei opens his mouth, then shuts it.

You two actually hadn't. Not really. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Listen, I know you're enjoying your never ending honeymoon phase, but it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Andrei takes a swig from his water, glancing at you on the monitor.

You've got Alexei in your arms now, feeding him the rest of his bottle while Sara rests on the rocking chair, eyes on Aleksander.

His heart does a little flip, imagining you holding a little baby that's got your nose and his eyes, and it brings back the warm and fuzzy feeling he'd felt earlier.

Maybe...maybe it was worth a discussion.

~

Since Evgeny's house had gotten crowded with all the kids, Andrei had booked a suite for the two of you at the Marriott.

It had a lovely view of the city, especially at night, and Andrei enjoyed it even more with your naked body pressed against one of the many floor to ceiling windows, watching the way your face twisted with pleasure in the reflection of the glass.

The lights were off in the hotel room, so there wasn't a single chance of anyone seeing what the two of you were up to, but the thrill was there all the same. He wanted to show you off, show off his beautiful little wife, the only diamond he ever needed.

Your palm prints littered the window as you pushed back against him, and Andrei groaned, tightening the grip on your hips, fingers pressing against where he knew that little diamond tattoo rested beneath the waistband of your thong.

He could barely wait, barely think by the time you both got back to the hotel. The second your jeans were off, he pulled your thong to the side and slid in to the hilt, burying himself inside of you and making you come all over him in seconds.

It wasn't often that Andrei took you from behind. More often than not, he preferred looking at you, preferred watching the beautiful faces you made and watching the way your body reacted to his own. But in times like these, where there was something that could help him watch you, he couldn't exactly complain.

He releases his hold on one of your hips, letting his hands wander up your torso, bringing you upright against him as he bends his knees a little, adjusting for your height difference so he can cage you against him as he fucks into you.

Pleasant and happy noises leave you as he plays with one of your nipples, then the other, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. His nails gently scratch at the valley between your breasts, making you shiver, before trailing his hand down your stomach.

He had every intention of putting his fingers to your clit, rubbing gently there the way you liked when he took you like this, but instead, his hands lingered on your stomach, on where he could feel the slight bulge of where his cock fucked in and out of you, and he found his hands resting there instead.

A shiver ran through your body, your pussy pushing back on his cock again as if on impulse, and a deep, pleased noise rumbled through Andrei's chest.

"Almaznyy?" He murmured against your neck, finding the sensitive spot below your ear and sucking against it gently.

You gasped in his hold, shaking a little, and he chuckled, pressing his hand against the little bulge of your stomach, the hand he still had on your waist tightening its grip, pressing his fingers a little more into the diamond tattoo.

"Can you feel me here, moya krasivaya zhena?" He asks you, cock throbbing when you squeeze against him in excitement. You loved it when he called you ‘my pretty wife.’ "Can you feel me fucking you?"

You nod, frantic, hands gripping onto his arms. "Please, malysh, wanna come."

"You wanna come already?" He taunts. "Gonna come for me in front of the whole city?"

A soft whine leaves your lips as he thrusts in particularly hard, emphasizing his question.

"Yes," you answer, nearly breathless.

“And what about me?” He teases, pressing his hand against your stomach a little more. "You want me to come inside, almaznyy? Want me to come right here?"

In the reflection of the window, he catches the way your eyes slam shut before you throw your head back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry and body seizing as your orgasm claims you. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight, and it sends Andrei over the edge in seconds, pushing down on your waist to bury himself inside of you, cock throbbing almost painfully as he comes.

The two of you shake silently for a second, and Andrei holds you both upright as best as he can until he can feel your body as it calms down. He pulls out gently, not wasting a second before he scoops you up, walking you over to the bed to lay you on it gently before he climbs on beside you.

You go to him almost immediately, and his arms open on instinct, welcoming you in his embrace as you bury your nose in his chest.

He wants to say something, anything. He wants to ask you if what just happened was okay, if you're okay, if he didn't cross a line, if you maybe wanted to try that again sometime soon or maybe if you want to try it in a different position.

But then he hears your breathing start to even out, feels the way your body goes lax in his hold, and he resigns himself to discussing it another time.

~

The following day, you and Andrei head back over to Sara and Evgeny’s for lunch. You help Sara put the kids down for their naps after you all eat, and Andrei and Evgeny handle the dishes.

When you and Sara come out of the kids’ rooms, you’re met with a chorus of laughter from Andrei, Evgeny, and then their mother’s voice echoes through the living room.

Peeking around the corner, you can see Andrei and Evegny crowded around Evgeny’s laptop, definitely on FaceTime with their mother.

She signals to you to hang back, and you nod. You’re more than happy to give Andrei and his brother the alone time they need to speak with their mom, so you lean back against the wall, Sara against the one opposite you, and you smile at each other when you hear the brother excitedly converse with their mother in Russian.

Your fluency has gotten better, but it’s not one hundred percent - same with Sara’s - so the two of you can only really pick up on bits and pieces here and there, catching tidbits of their mother’s praises for her boys along with her normal chastising.

You two are looking fit!

Still, you both need to eat more. 

You’re working too hard.

Are you ready for the upcoming season?

Oh my brilliant boys!

How are my daughters?

How are the grandkids?

Evgeny, you’d better bring them by soon so I can babysit.

Andrei, how are you doing?

Are you and my favorite girl happy?

When are you two going to give me more grandchildren?!

That last part sends a shock through your body, and Sara nudges you with her foot at the same time Andrei begins to stutter and stammer in the living room.

Their mom starts to say something else when her voice gets quieter, and you realize Andrei’s turned the volume down. His voice gets a little quieter, and Evgeny’s loud laughter drowns out whatever Andrei says in return to their mother.

Sara gives you another pointed look, as if to say “So you still didn’t talk to him about it.”

You roll your eyes, and she nudges your foot again before dragging you down the hall and into her and Evgeny’s bedroom. 

“For the love of God,” she says. “I know you said you’re not taking my suggestions, but you are going to have to take this one, specifically with the promise that you’ll at least save it until you get back to Raleigh.”

You answer her with a deadpan stare, and she sighs, exasperated, before gesturing to you. 

“You have to seduce him.” She says plainly. “It’s how I did it with Evgeny, and it’s how you’re going to have to do it with Andrei instead of tiptoeing around.”

You’re slightly dumbfounded, so all you can manage is a weak “What?”

“Remember when I told you to rip the bandaid off?” She asks, and you nod. She waves a hand around, “Well, that’s what I meant by that. Seduce him. Rip the bandaid off.”

“Seduce him…” You say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

Sara grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you a bit. “You know he loves you, you know he thinks you’re hot. Use it.”

Sara doesn’t know how you and Andrei met, no one does except Lottie, Oli, Mason, Eli, and you and Andrei. She has no idea about your past.

Which means she has no idea that if there is anything you know how to do, it’s seduce Andrei.

~

You try your best to clear your mind, focusing on exfoliating your skin as you shower and the things you’re planning on doing once this shower is done.

It had been a week since you’d returned from visiting with Sara and Evgeny, and this morning, you’d gone to see your OBGYN doctor to discuss…well, a possible game plan.

You agreed that after you finished this round of birth control pills and had your period, you and Andrei would probably start trying.

And well, after you spoke to Andrei about all of this, of course. 

But Sara was right, seduction might have to come first. You were too out of sorts to wait any longer.

He had been gone this morning when you went to your appointment, having to be at the practice rink to watch the team’s morning skate, and when you had returned home after running some errands, he’d been in his office for a string of phone calls, which he said he’d be in and out of till about two this afternoon.

It was about noon, then. So you’d gone on a run, had a little pep talk with yourself to prepare for the impending conversation, and strategized.

The pep talk you had was simple - if during said conversation, Andrei voiced that he didn’t want kids, that was that. You would not be forcing him into anything he didn’t want or trying to convince him, and the two of you would likely talk things out from there.

If he did want kids, perfect, you could talk about that, but, you could also give him a bit of extra motivation.

Which brought you to the seduction strategy you’d developed so carefully on the way back from your run.

It was about one in the afternoon when you got back, so you threw together a quick lunch for you and Andrei to have - once he was done with his phone calls and you - and it was about one thirty when you hopped into the shower.

You’d gone for a wax right after your doctor’s appointment, as part of the errands you ran, along with a mani pedi, but a little extra gentle exfoliation on the legs never hurt anyone.

Once you finished in the shower, you toweled off and applied the vanilla lotion Andrei loved the most on you, before slipping on one of your favorite sundresses. It was also one Andrei liked on you, particularly because it was just the right side of see through. 

Hence, why it was a key part to your strategy.

It might be devious, and it’s definitely playing dirty, but you need a little ammunition on your side, if not for the sake of a small confidence boost to get you through the conversation.

You did this for a living, for a time. You did this specifically for Andrei before, it shouldn’t be too hard to do it for him again. Sure, the way that you seduced him now looked different, the way that you were together now had changed drastically, but Sara was right. At the very least, Andrei loved you, and he never failed to remind you how attractive you were to him.

So hopefully, this worked.

You checked the time on the clock on your nightstand - one fifty five. A quick glance in the mirror assured you this was the best option outfit wise, and your nerves reminded you that you’d both probably need a little bit of liquid courage for this next bit. Heading back out to the kitchen, you make yourself a quick margarita and pour Andrei a shot of his favorite whisky. 

If there was anything you knew about your husband, sometimes he just needed a little something to take the edge off before he could plow forward with whatever it was he needed to do. He was bound to be nervous once you brought up the idea of having a baby, especially if you were going to be playing just a little bit dirty about it. 

You grabbed both glasses and headed back down the hall to Andrei’s office. Just as you crossed the threshold, he was bidding whoever was on the other line goodbye, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself.

Andrei is your husband. You love each other. You reminded yourself. He is your husband. You can get through anything together.

Andrei smiles when you hand him his glass, his reading glasses perched on his nose making him look both hot, authoritative, and innocent all at once. “Now how did you know I needed this, moya zhena?”

You shrug, playing innocent. “A lucky guess.”

You both toast, clinking your glasses before each taking a sip of your respective drinks. You try to hide your smile behind your glass as you do, but you should’ve known better.

Andrei’s almost always looking at you, so nothing ever could get past your loving and doting husband.

“What’s that smile doing there?” He teases, and it’s then that he seems to finally take in what you’re wearing.

And that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

You try another innocent smile, but Andrei raises a brow in suspicion, quirking his finger and summoning you to his side of the desk.

Placing your glass down on the mahogany, you round the desk to his side, obeying when he taps the desk and jumping up, taking a seat but keeping your legs crossed.

You don’t want him distracted.

“Are you about to ask me for something expensive, almaznyy? Because if you are, you’re off to a good start.”

You never actually needed to do anything if it was expensive, including asking him for anything, since you did have your own income, and you both knew that. But still, every now and again you liked to pretend like you did, liked the way it made Andrei nervous and pliant, like he didn’t meet you the way he actually did, like he wasn’t familiar with the concept. 

But that wasn’t what you were going for here.

“Well,” you start, “it’s sort of expensive. An…investment, if you will.”

He frowns slightly. “Don’t tell me Jarvy’s wife actually talked you into wanting to buy that monstrosity of a beach house.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, having almost completely forgotten Tessa’s attempt to expand her real estate portfolio by tempting you with an even bigger sunroom than the one you and Andrei had now.

You shake your head. “No no, I don’t want that house.”

“But you do want a house?” Andrei inquires.

You shake your head, nerves suddenly racing through your veins. It makes your hands shake, so you reach out for him, cupping his jaw with your hand, leaving the other resting in your lap. You thumb over the stubble along his jaw, humming to yourself, trying to gather the right words.

It makes Andrei nervous. “Listen, almaznyy, whatever it is, we-”

“I want this house, Bubby,” you interrupt, wanting to be out with it but also not sure if you were remotely prepared for the rest of his sentence. At the pet name, Andrei’s eyes get brighter, his entire demeanor softening. “I want this house, with you and I in it, and maybe…maybe a little one running around in it, too.”

There. You said it…kind of.

But it was out there now. 

And Andrei…

There’s surprise in his face, definitely, and you’d been expecting that. But there’s also no…opposition. Nothing that says he doesn’t want to have this conversation, nothing that screams disagreement, nothing that says he doesn’t like the idea.

There are nerves there, like yours, but amongst the nerves and surprise is…hope? Something wistful. 

You lean into it, trailing your hand from his face to his arm, then down to the desk where his hand rests beside your legs. You take it, intertwining your fingers, playing with his hand a little.

“Bubby,” you continue. And that time you’re definitely playing dirty, saying one of his favorite pet names like that, like you want something - which you do, no question - and it makes Andrei’s whole body relax. “I want a baby,” you say, this time, plainly, so there’s no question and no doubt. “I want to have a baby with you.” You glance up at him, finding his intense gaze already on you. “What do you think?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and if you didn’t already know your husband, his lack of a response might concern you. But the look on his face tells you that he’s thinking, and so you wait, giving him enough space and time to collect his thoughts.

Finally, he squeezes your hand, a little sigh of relief mixed with a laugh leaving his chest, eyes crinkling at the corners as a brilliant smile takes over his features. He says nothing, just maneuvers you to part your legs so he can haul you off the desk and into his lap. You go to him easily, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck, breathing him in. One of his arms bands itself across your waist, the other across your back so he can cradle the back of your head in his hands.

“I didn’t know how to ask you.” He says softly into your ear. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. How to ask…how to tell you…”

“Ya tozhe,” you tell him. Me too. “I didn’t know if it was something you wanted.”

“We never talked about it,” he agrees. “And we should have, and I’m sorry we didn’t.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, malysh. We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?” You say, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

He tightens his grip on you. “Because you were brave enough to do it. You’ve always been the brave one of the two of us, almaznyy.”

“You were the one who brought us together, Andrei.” You remind him, “I couldn’t have done that. Only you could have, and you did.”

“I would do it again.” He swears, leaning back a little to press a kiss to your forehead. 

You pull back a little, puckering your lips, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you softly, gently, and like he has all the time in the world. You love when he kisses you like this, like he’s afraid you’ll break or disappear into thin air. It makes you feel precious, like the very diamond he continues to call you.

“Bubby,” you murmur between kisses, “how many babies do you want?”

There’s a choked noise that bubbles in his throat, so you pull back, looking at him in concern. He reaches for his scotch, but you bat his hand away, handing him the bottle of water he always keeps on his desk instead.

He takes a couple of grateful swigs, and much to his disappointment, you climb off of him and climb back to your perch on his desk, giving him some room to breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Didn’t mean to take you by surprise there.”

Andrei shakes his head, putting the closed water bottle down and reaches for his glass, downing the rest of its contents. When it's empty, you take it back from him, putting it on a far enough corner of his desk before reaching for your glass, taking down the rest of your margarita, then set the empty glass next to Andrei’s. Once those are out of the way, you lean back on your hands, your attention solely on Andrei once more.

He’s got a little glint in his eye as he considers you, letting one of his hands come up to rest on your legs, caressing your skin. “You know me, almaznyy. I’m not picky.” He starts. “I’ll be satisfied with as many babies as you’re willing to give me.”

You smile, pleased with his answer. In reward, you nudge the hand he has on your leg a little, and Andrei beams, gently grabbing your calf so he can part your legs, this time, to take in the sight of your bare pussy.

Carefully, you pull up the hem of your dress and push yourself to the edge of his desk, and Andrei takes your ankles, gently placing one on the armrest of his chair, putting the other over his shoulder. He scoots his chair in closer, your leg sliding down his back a little and allowing his hands to rest on your hips.

“We should…” he starts, swallowing. “We should probably talk about this a little more.”

You smirk. “We are talking, though.”

“In depth,” he clarifies. “Get into specifics, and things.”

But even as he says it, you can see in his face you probably wouldn’t get further than the next five minutes. “We can still talk about it after, too, okay? We’ll sit and have a real conversation about it.”

He blinks, nodding, then glances down at where you know he wants to bury his face.

“If you wanted a baby, almaznyy,” he says, warm breath fanning over your lower abdomen, “you didn’t have to play dirty.”

“Dirty?” You ask, innocent as ever. “What do you mean?”

Andrei narrows his eyes at you. “The first time you walked into this office on a mission, you were dressed just like this.”

“You mean when I used to be your assistant?” You tease, and he pinches your thigh playfully.

“Moya zhena,” he warns. He may be playful, but it seems you’ve pushed a few too many buttons in that area today.

Shame, you think. Maybe I can try again after dinner. 

You roll your eyes playfully, pouting a little. “I was nervous and needed some confidence, alright?”

“You look plenty confident to me,” he reassures you with a slight nod, then he’s bunching up the fabric of your dress and pressing against your stomach, his nice way of saying ‘lay back moya zhena, let me take care of you.’

The first swipe of his tongue in your folds takes you by surprise, a pleasant squeal leaving your lips and echoing around his office. His second taste of you is slower, his tongue laying flat against you and dragging from your entrance to your clit, his lips circling around the bud and sucking in a way that elicits a pleasant moan from you.

Andrei’s hands crawl up your body to the neckline of your dress, and you help him a little, slipping the straps off so he can pull the neckline down, cupping your tits in his hands and squeezing.

He’d been particularly fond of the first time you’d had sex in this house together. Had cherished the memory of you in that light pink sundress and on this desk in a similar fashion. It was probably why you’d chosen to approach him this way, he thinks absentmindedly, lips and mouth settling into the familiar pace you love when he’s got his face between your thighs.

Andrei can feel his pants get a little tighter the wetter you get, his chin coated in your slick and nose nudging against your clit as his lips and tongue work you open. He’s so perfectly at peace here, totally content to just lick at you and taste you for hours at a time that he nearly forgets why you’re sprawled out on his desk like this.

You tugging at his hair serves as a gentle reminder that kicks him into gear, and he smiles against your skin, pressing kisses to the junction of your thighs and nipping at you a little.

“Andrei,” you say, breathless. “Potoropites', pozhaluysta.” Hurry up, please.

He shakes his head, gently letting your legs fall to the side as he sits up in his chair, draping his body over yours. “Not this time, almaznyy,” he says, wrapping your arms around his neck before he wraps his own arms around your back, cupping your ass in his hands.

Your brain kicks into gear just in time for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s lifting you up, pressing filthy open mouth kisses to your neck as he navigates the hallway carefully, taking the measured and familiar steps to your bedroom.

He lays you gently on the mattress, placing you delicately among the pillows before he’s shedding his shirt and pants, kicking his boxer briefs off to the side and then settling back between your legs.

This time, your thighs squeeze at his head when he sucks your pussy into his mouth particularly hard, tongue dipping inside of you, and your fingers fly into his hair, scratching at his scalp in warning.

“Behave, moy muzh.” you hiss through gritted teeth, even if the way you writhe against his face tells him you like it. 

“You started it,” he reminds you, tugging on the dress resting around your middle. You huff, grabbing the bottom and peeling it off, tossing it in the direction of Andrei’s pile of clothes. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief when you watch the way he takes in the sight of your naked body. No matter how many times the two of you do this, Andrei always looks at you the same way.

Like he’s in love, like it’s the first time, like for all he wants to take you apart, the way he’ll put you back together will be well worth it, and if it isn’t, he’ll work for it until it is.

“Pridi ko mne, lyubov' moya,” you beckon him. Come to me, my love.

His bottom lip drags against your clit as he rises from his position, tongue darting out to lick at your arousal still coating his lips, and the sight alone licks at the flame of arousal sparking low in your belly.

When he crawls up your body to kiss you, he props himself up on his arms, not wanting to rest his full weight on you, his delicate little almaznyy. Normally, you love it, but right now, you need something a little different. 

Your arms wrap around his neck as you seize his mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss, pulling him down to you and taking him by surprise as you manage to flip him onto his back on the way down. You take full advantage of his surprise by making your way down his body to settle between his legs, wrapping your fist around his cock and taking him into your mouth.

Andrei groans, sitting up on his elbows to watch you.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to make a baby if you keep doing that,” he warns, cock throbbing against your tongue as if to emphasize his point. 

You bat your eyelashes at him, sucking at the head of his cock and using your hands to stroke at him at the same time. He hisses, one of his hands flying to rest in your hair, the other resting behind his head and emphasizing the chiseled muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen.

Sometimes, you couldn’t believe this man was your husband.

“Almaznyy,” he warns when you take him down your throat, swallowing around him. You’re slow to come off his cock, letting him leave your lips with a dramatic ‘pop.’

“I’m still on birth control,” you tell him. “So we can’t make a baby tonight anyway, probably not for another month, at least.”

His brows furrow, both from your statement and the way you twist your wrist, stroking his cock the way you know he likes. “Then what - ah yebat’ - what are we doing?” He asks, trying to focus on the conversation as you take him back in your throat. You hum a little, and he tugs on the strands of your hair again in warning.

You pull off of him, gently stroking your hand up and down, squeezing as you go. “Practicing, of course.”

He lets his arms fall out beside him, collapsing against the pillows and dragging his hands over his eyes. “Almaznyy,” he huffs, hips stuttering when you squeeze him at the base.

“Hmm?” You hum, ready to take him in your mouth again, but Andrei moves quickly, hauling you up his body and cradling you close as he flips you over again. He positions you among the pillows, placing one under your waist so you’re practically propped up for him. He positions himself so his arms rest in the crook of your knees, your ankles near his head as he folds his body over yours.

He takes his cock in his hand, running the head through your folds. “Practice?” 

You nod, “Practice, for now.” You reach out, pushing his hand out of the way so you can line his cock up with your entrance. “Which is why the desk was perfectly good, and-”

The rest of your words are stolen from you when Andrei bats your hand away gently and slides inside of you, slow but precise, bottoming out and nestling his body close to yours. Your eyes flutter shut when you squeeze around him, and his hands come up, cradling the sides of your face as he murmurs encouraging words to you, staying still until you’ve adjusted to his size.

“Almaznyy,” he calls, and your eyes blink open, glazed over and hazy and you’ve barely even started. “Good?”

You nod, tilting your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. He laughs a little, shaking his head. “So damn impatient.” 

He raises his body off of yours a little, angling his hips and setting a steady pace, one that has you whining in protest almost immediately, grabbing at the muscles of his ass and trying to drag him closer.

“I won’t break Andrei-” you start, but he cuts you off with a particularly hard thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“I don’t care if it’s just practice, almaznyy.” He tells you, “and I don’t care how many times we have to practice. I’m going to make it last, and I’m going to make sure that you remember all the ways I fuck you and make love to you until I put a baby in you.”

You gasp a little, and Andrei smiles to himself, thoroughly pleased. He sits up, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs and settling in to fuck you just the way you like. He fucks you in deep, strong strokes, the head of his cock brushing up against that sensitive spot in your pussy every single time.

It steals your breath from you, and all the telltale signs of an orgasm approaching signal to Andrei like a beacon. The way your breathing catches in your throat, the way you can’t keep your eyes open, how your legs start to shake.

He takes his thumb and rests it on your clit, rubbing in lazy circles until your back arches off the bed, a satisfied cry echoing out of your throat and into the pillows beside your head when you come. Your pussy squeezes down in a way that makes Andrei’s head go dizzy, and then he’s coming with a groan, pushing your hips down onto him as he buries himself to the hilt, his orgasm sudden and a shock to his system.

It takes him a second to catch his breath, and moves your legs off of his shoulders to make it easier to pull out of you and give you reprieve, but a noise of protest leaves your throat, and your ankles lock at the base of his spine. 

He pauses, glancing at you curiously when he notices the look on your face.

Andrei thinks back to before you left for San Jose, the day he took you in the shower, and how upset you’d been when he set you down on your feet.

It clicks in his head, then. What you’d been upset about.

He’s still hard - he’s practically always hard when he’s around you - so he moves his hips, slowly pulling back an inch before pushing back inside. You throw your head back, his name leaving your lips in relief, and he smirks. 

Fucking you in shallow thrusts, thumb circling your clit, Andrei watches in fascination as he pushes his come back inside of you with his cock, watches the way your pretty face twists in pleasure, and hums satisfactorily to himself. 

“Is this what you’ve been needing, moya zhena?” He asks, eyes on yours the whole time. “How long have you wanted this?”

You can barely answer him, your head thrown back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, back still arched and pushing those beautiful tits of yours up. Andrei takes them in his hands, massaging them, and you keen, pushing into his hands and pussy trying to retreat from his cock with nowhere to go.

The sensation feels different for him. He’s hypersensitive now, all too away of the slick slide of his cock, of your mixed come leaking out of you before he pushes back in, feels heat begin to prick at his skin when your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze, like it’s trying to keep him inside of you. With every brush of his finger over your nipples, your pussy squeezes and you try to pull off of him, but in the next breath you’re winding your hips, pushing back down until he’s buried to the hilt.

Andrei pushes your legs up again before he rests his weight on you gently, his shoulders under your knees, burying his face in your neck and placing his hands under your ass, cradling you closer to him as he starts to fuck you in deeper strokes, drowning in the pleased little noises leaving your lips.

“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, dorogaya,” he murmurs against your neck. You feel so good, darling. 

“Andrei,” you finally manage to breathe out, and relief floods through his veins. There were times when you two made love that you got so lost in the pleasure that you couldn’t speak to him, and it worried Andrei to no end. But you always came back to him, always called for him, and the same calm washes over his body, a shiver running up his spine.

Your arms come up, wrapping around his neck and arching your back, giving him more access to you. Andrei hums, pleased, sucking a bruise into your skin while his cock starts to throb from where he’s fucking you, can feel a second orgasm creeping up when he bites down gently, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin and you start to squeeze and clench around him.

“Gonna come again, almaznyy?” He asks, nosing along your jaw. “Want me to come again, too?”

You nod, turning your head and Andrei meets you, slotting your lips together and swallowing your moans down when you shake gently beneath him, back arching and pushing your body closer to his. His eyes squeeze shut, electricity zipping up his spine when your orgasm tips him over the edge and he’s spilling into you again, groaning against your jaw.

His arms come out from under you and he gently eases your legs back down against the bed, massaging the muscles as he does. Instead of resting them against the bed though, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at his lower back, and Andrei laughs. 

Gently, he rolls you both until he’s laying underneath you instead, careful to keep himself nestled inside of you, and he smiles to himself when you do a half cat-like stretch before sprawling across his chest. 

A pleased little exhale greets his ears after a moment, and his hand comes up, rubbing gentle circles in your back. “Made you lunch,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “‘S in the kitchen.”

“Spasibo, almaznyy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We should go eat it then, it’s probably cold by now.”

“It’s the chicken caesar salad wraps you like.” You say, lips dragging across his chest as you speak. “And I made strawberry lemonade this morning, should be ready by now.”

He nods, tapping your flank gently. “We should get up, malyshka. Get cleaned up.”

You nod, but you’ve got that look in your eye like before, like you’re disappointed as you carefully lift yourself off of him and roll onto the mattress beside him. Andrei rolls onto his side, cradling your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, moya zhena?” 

You shake your head, a small smile gracing your lips. “Nothing’s wrong, just…excited, is all.”

“Excited?”

“To start a family with you,” you clarify. 

“Then why do you look so sad?” He wonders, thumbing at the pout in your bottom lip.

You laugh, nose scrunching a little before cuddling into him. “It’s silly - I just wanted to start now.”

“It’s only a month, right?” He asks. You nod, nose rubbing at his pec, and he smiles to himself. “That’s good - plenty of time for us to practice, then? Wanna make sure we get it right on the first try.”

You snort. “Perfektsionist.” Perfectionist.

“Only the best for you, moya zhena.” Andrei says, teasing. Underneath it though, you both know that he’s serious. Because if anything, even as he rises from the bed and lifts you in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom, you know he never does anything half assed. 

Now that you’re both on the same page, he’s going to do everything he can to ensure you’re well looked after from beginning to end, and when your little baby eventually comes, he’s going to work twice as hard to make sure the both of you are taken care of, and that you’ll want for nothing.

You, his almaznyy, and your future child, his malen'kaya rubin. His little ruby.

[barcaatthemoon]

pacifier || katie mccabe x reader ||

You get upset during a post-game press conference and Katie isn't immediately there to calm you down.

Katie didn't know why, but she had a bad feeling about today. A quick game against Chelsea was really no big deal. Yes, they were rivals to Arsenal, but a derby wasn't out of the ordinary. They were some of your favorite games, all of the tension leading to absoutely amazing games of football. You were excited about today, and that was why Katie hated how nervous she was.

"Hey you," you greeted as you slid into the spot next to Katie on the bus. You had driven in on your own today, Jonas having arranged a pre-game interview. News of your split with Lioness, Niamh Charles was still circulating, despite being nearly a year old. You and Katie were openly in a relationship, even if quite a few of the fans still held strong to their own little ships and shipping wars.

"How was the interview?" Katie asked. You shot her an annoyed look, which Katie should have taken as the first crack in your happy facade. It was hard to tell whenever you were truly angry, but years of friendship had clued Katie in. The two of you had grown up together, and while Katie was outwardly angry, you were a secret hothead to the likes which left Katie in awe.

"Just a bunch of bullshit about going face to face with Niamh, and now Lucy. If they really wanted to get interesting, why don't they bring up that time I danced with Sam Kerr in Jersey? They really must be desperate for news content," you ranted. Katie covered your hand with hers and gave it a little squeeze. The contact was welcomed, and you leaned in to give Katie a kiss. "Sorry for ranting. How was your morning? Did you get something to eat?"

"I could have done with a few more good morning kisses, but it was fine. Someone very sweet left me a bowl of porridge to be heated up, and I love her very much for it." Katie leaned down and pressed a few kisses to the back of your hand. You smiled as you turned to cup her face with your hand. Katie kissed your palm and continued to trail kisses up your arm until she met your lips.

"Gross, get a room!" Kyra gagged. You rolled your eyes and gave her the bird before turning to kiss Katie. This time, you were being over the top, only stopping when she pulled away with a heavy blush on her cheeks.

"Keep on with that and I won't be able to focus for the game," Katie whined. You let out a laugh before turning around to talk get an update on Myle with Beth.

…

Chelsea's defense was on another level, but that was what you expected. You didn't doubt any of their backline for a moment. You knew that this would be a tough game, but you hadn't expected it to feel so personal. Everybody could see your frustration building up, so your teammates gave you space. It killed Katie a little, but she kept her distance from you at the final whistle.

"(Y/n), you're up for the post-game interview," Jonas told you. You didn't even bother trying to dry your hair or put on real shoes as you followed Leah. You and the blonde were chatting a little amongst yourselves until you noticed two Chelsea players sitting at the table with you.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you huffed. Leah glanced at your name plate in the middle, between her and Niamh. Niamh seemed to notice this as well and refused to make eye contact with you as you took your seat. You tuned out most of the questions or gave generic answers until the last of your questions.

"It was very obvious that as well as Arsenal played, the unresolved tension between you and your exes came into play for some of your shots (Y/n). What steps are you taking to prevent that from costing you a good season?"

Katie swore that time slowed down as you attempted to lunge forward out of your seat. Luckily, Leah and Niamh managed to get a hold on you before you could go too far. Katie dropped her phone down onto the bench as she shot off to intercept you from Leah, who was pulling you out of the press conference. You'd be in a world of trouble, but Katie knew how little you cared in the moment.

"Hey, come on, don't do this here. It was just a stupid question, don't ruin your career because of one question. You played a really good game today, they've got an unreal defense," Leah said. It was obvious to Katie that she was struggling, and Niamh standing there staring at you sadly definitely didn't help. "Hey, look it's Katie."

"Can you give us a minute?" Katie asked as she pulled you into a tight hug. Leah went back with Niamh to Lucy, who was distracting everyone with an old story from your early WSL days. "I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault. They set me up, this whole fucking thing was a set up. The pre-game questions, putting me so far forward in formation, and now this. It's like they just wanted to provoke me." You were close to tears, and it broke Katie's heart to see you like this. She peppered your face in kisses as you melted into her embrace.

"I hate that they've done this to you, but I need you to calm down. Let everybody else be mad for you because the last thing I want is for you to get in trouble. If you keep on like this, you'll get in trouble. Trust me, none of us want this for you. Not me, not Leah, not Niamh, not Lucy, none of us. They want drama, so just stay calm and let it be," Katie said. You took her words in and tried your best to apply them. It wasn't easy to calm down so quickly, but having Katie close to you helped.

"Can we just go to the bus?" you asked her. Katie nodded as she led you back to the locker room. Most of the girls in there steered clear of you, only ever having seen you get so heated a couple of times before. Tensions weren't completely settled as you got back home, but Katie was quick to bring you inside and help you in whatever ways you'd let her.

[tiny-pun]

On writing pain

Okay so for once this isn’t an actual prompt but more so a tip:

If your character is supposedly in pain that lasts more than a couple of days or even weeks and months, eg. Because of a bigger wound or of a (new) disability… you most likely should show this in more ways than just the occasional “gasp and clutching the wound”!

Having such constant pain will have at least some kind of emotion impact: the stress of constantly being in pain, the constant push and pull between just succumbing to the pain and laying down until it goes away or just ignoring it and powering through. The balancing act of not overdoing it and being hyperventilat to the point you just hunch down to avoid worsening it.

Additionally you have to think about how to treat all of the different pains. How connected are they really? How much sense does it actually make to take pain meds ? Are there enough? Do I trust my doctor/s, to actually listen to me and take my pain seriously? Am I over exaggerating my pain? Am I underselling it? Am I annoying my doctor? Should I just wait and hope it goes away? It’s probably nothing anyway. But what if it’s so much worse ? What if this pain is just covering up something truly awful? But what if I’m making such a fuss now and tomorrow I can jump around like always? How unnecessary it would be to get so many people involved. Right ? This is especially hindered by poor use of words aka incapability to communicate. ( My head is just … kinda fuzzy?/Everything hurts?)

Another factor is how much they want to openly tell others about it. And whom they could possibly even tell and all the whys and hows surrounding it. And how hard it would be aka how long they’ve know each other and how much time they spent together. The hiding and lying adds more emotional stress and also possibly leads to neglect of any medical help. The “overt” complaining about the pain/situation can be exhausting and thus a different kind of stress. Especially if they’re feeling childish/unheard or otherwise ashamed about voicing anything but positive emotions but the pain is just too much and too consistent.

This can also lead to a constant comparison of how far into their recovery they “statistically already should be” or just the plain old “I could do xyz SO EASILY before”. Or worse: they’re comparing themselves to another (equally) wounded/disabled character. Wether it’s an internal belief or externally expected: if the character believes, that their wound/pain is comparably minor or should be easily overcome by themselves; and especially if they have a certain goal in mind, by which they should be back to their regular power and it’s not look in good … well then you certainly have a nice cocktail of stress and anxiety.

And if during the time of their supposed recovery, they end up getting some minor but more common sickness, eg. A cold or a stomach bug, it might not be their first thought. In fact they might do any and every test possible BUT think of the common cold. Not bc they’re necessarily stupid but bc of the fear, things might go to hell after all. Especially if the symptoms of both illnesses are similar enough. Anything else will just not be in their radar.

Also how would they like to be taken care of ? How much of that is a facade to please others ? Do they actually want to be hugged right now or are they just trying to please someone yet feeling suffocated? Do they just want their dead siblings soup and is a companionable silence enough to know they’re gonna be fine? How honest are they towards not only themselves but to others? And how much can the people and the situation itself even give that to them right now? (Do they need silence but they’re currently lying low in the city’s biggest hotel next to the market place?)

For all of this it doesn’t matter how big or small the pain actually is. What matters is that it is seemingly constant and only very slowly going away. The combination of constant physical pain with so much emotional turmoil and back and forth between opposing ideals aka stress can translate to even more physical pain aka psychosomatic pain. Headaches, breathlessness and even bigger issues such as literal heartaches can be the result.

This all can lead to spiralling and in the worst case a (temporary) depression. I dont think I have to explain how that could look like.

And one last thing: If the character is used to being in life or death situations, no matter if it’s due to multiple fights or an already existing disability: the common cold might be worse to deal with. They could be so used to dealing with the possibility of death that anything less than that is ironically unbearable. During a basically fatal stabbing they might just say a cheeky joke but freak out during the common cold.

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor. If you have the same pain for more than 6 week pls get it checked out if you can! And get well soon. These are just possible ways to write, what kind of thoughts and issues any type of constant pain (fatal or not) could cause.

[junedenim]

2008

beneath the boardwalk, part 6 (series masterlist)

dance little liar

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, drugs, etc.

word count: 12.3k

I don't think Alex and I do birthday presents too well. We don't do fancy things, and while Alex is easy to get gifts for because he'll never dislike anything you get him, he's difficult because he doesn't want anything either. Anything he could want, mostly in the music department, I have little idea of what the best thing out there is. He also can just buy it himself.

So, for our birthdays, we've usually given homemade things, a tradition stemming back to the first few we spent together, but specifically our 22nd birthdays together.

The day before, I had just started back at work again after the holiday break and being hungover for a few days after New Year's. I had asked Alex before Christmas what he wanted (another issue, his birthday is right after Christmas) and he said a shelf for his records, which is really just a gift for me because it got his records off the floor where I kept tripping over them. Then, he said, "I don't know, just give me something sweet."

Sweet lands in a lot of categories. Candies, alcohol, desserts. Or sex, flavoured condoms, candy panties. Or sentimental, heartfelt, handmade. So, I combined two categories and made a cake from scratch. It wasn't much of a gift because Alex made the cake with me.

"I want to do it for you," I insisted, trying to pull him out of the kitchen.

He stood with his hands on his hips. "Well, it's my birthday and I want to make it with you."

We made the cake—chocolate—and it sucked. I blame Alex. Eventually, he did eat the whole thing. Whether out of pride or politeness. 

Before he ate the cake, I lit the two "2" candles I had purchased and we sang "Happy Birthday" together because I felt too embarrassed to sing it solo, so he sang it with me. We ended up breaking out into laughter before the end of the song and Alex could barely blow the candles out through it.

At the end of the night, when we sat eating cake in bed, curled up, far away from January blues, I gave Alex a picture book I had made. When I was younger, my mother would go through all her old photos from when she was around this age up until Stacey was born. This was before Tommy died and things like that were a joyous act to do. She had this one photo of her, just her, alone in a photo booth. She couldn't have been older than 10 and she had a beaming smile on her face. She looked just like me. I asked her if I could keep it and she let me. I have it framed on my dresser. 

The whole act inspired me to capture the time Alex and I were living in. The book wasn't packed full of pictures. That was sort of the beauty of it that years after this birthday, that book would be filled by our future. But of the pictures in it, sat the very first photo I took of Alex in his room, scribbling away in his notebook up to a photo Georgia had taken of us on New Year's with me sat in his lap. They weren't all of Alex and me, some had the band in them or Miles. Robert even appears in one photo, taken after one of their Astoria gigs. But the majority of them chronicled the life Alex and I had lived up to that point and putting it all together I felt like my mother longing for a time that had passed, except I was living in that time. It gave me a kick of excitement.

When he unwrapped the book, he gave it a questioning look before we thumbed through the pages together. I imagined he looked like I did when my mother and I thumbed through the pages together. He pointed out little details and marveled at the photos he didn't remember being taken. At one point, he pointed at a photo of me and exclaimed, "You looked hot there! I mean, you're always hot, but va va voom."

I threw my head back in laughter. "Who are you? My grandpa?"

He turned to me quizzically. "Your grandpa talks to you like that?"

I slapped his arm. "Both my grandpas are dead. Now, shut up, and continue."

We flipped our way through the whole thing and I gave him a little birthday card that I wrote a long note in. His fingers grazed carefully over it all. His delicate touch was like he was fearful one wrong move would set fire to it. He closed the book and placed it cautiously on his tiny bedside table. 

Alex turned back to me rather emotionally. He sniffled and just said, "I loved it. Thank you." His arms wrapped tight around me, his hug capturing me.

I rubbed my hand up and down his back in a soothing motion. "Thank you," I whispered in his ear.

"For what?" He whispered back in mine. "All I had to do was stand for pictures."

I giggled into his ear. I didn't pull back from the hug. If I looked at him at that moment I would have cried. "Loving me. It means a lot."

"How do you think I feel? I got you for a girlfriend."

It was all sweet.

*

About a week into January, Alex and I both became sick. He was fine because he didn't have to go to work. He could just lounge around all day, propped up on a pillow, watching TV (in fact, he did, this is when he started watching Breaking Bad, a fixture that would overtake his life for the next five years). I, however, had to go to work.

"Don't go," he whined. I was dressed for work, runny nose, and my big winter coat on. His head was shoved into the pillow and he was wearing the same clothes for the past three days.

"I have to go to work."

"Don't go," he whined again.

"I'm not going to sit here and take care of you all day."

He sat up slowly, his head adjusting to the new altitude. He placed his feet down on the ground and looked like he might get out of bed if his head wasn't weighing him down. "I don't want you to. You're sick. I'll take care of you."

"You're sick," I countered.

"Then, we'll be sick together," he argued.

"I have to go to work." I turned on my feet when he stood and wrapped his arms around my waist, tugging me back into him before I could rush out the door.

"Don't go." He sounded much clearer now with no obstructions in the way. "You'll be no good there."

"Hey, I am always good," I defended. "If I were bleeding out I'd still be of use, or in labour, or dead—" I sneezed then. "Urgh. Look. I can go to work, I can function, I'm fine."

He softened and pressed a lingering kiss to my flushed cheek. "Drink a lot of water, would you? And call me if you feel worse. I'll come get you."

I pushed his growing hair behind his ear. "You can't come get me. We don't have a car."

He kissed my cheek again. "I'll come get ya. I'll walk over and carry you on my back on the way home."

"You're a dork." I tugged on his ear. "I have to go."

"Okay," he conceded. "Call me on your lunch break."

I kissed his cheek. I felt like I was the working husband and Alex was the stay-at-home mum. I was the breadwinner (even if I totally wasn't but I was going to the offices and my "wife" was staying home). I stepped out of his grasp and finally made my way to the front door. "I will. Eat good foods."

"Oh, Janie, you know I'm going to eat all your ice cream while you're gone."

I stuck my tongue out and left. Even with a stuffy nose and a rainy London, I knew walking down Myddelton Street I had everything I ever wanted, at least for that age because work sucked that day and I almost quit because I'm a lazy son of a bitch who was sick and desperate to go home to her boyfriend. But I managed because I loved that job with all my heart. I felt privileged. Georgia was suffering through late-night poetry readings and I had an established career. It wasn't exactly what I wanted to do because editing has never been my strong suit but it was a step in the right direction for my life. I loved that job.

When I returned home, Alex was relaxed in bed with a cup of tea. "I'm sick," I announced, dropping my bag on the floor.

"We can all tell, sweetie. I made you some tea." He pointed to the kitchen counter where he left it out to cool, just how I like it. "How was work?"

I groaned and dragged my feet over to the kitchen, slipping bits of my attire off as I went. My shoes were tossed about and my coat was thrown on the floor. "Not worth it." 

I moved over to the bed, wriggling to settle between his knees, cup of tea in my hand. He was gentle, placing his hand over my burning forehead. "How are you feeling?" He took my cup out of my hand, setting it down.

"I'm so tired," I moaned. He undressed me in the most non-sexual sense. We were sniffling and his motions were slow and tender. He undid my bra and it gave me the same relief as when I did it at the end of the workday. With each passing day, Alex and I were becoming more conjoined. He was an extension of me as I was of him. We were completely intertwined and part of one another. "And I feel so shitty, and my whole skeleton aches, and—stop laughing at me, it's not funny."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, kissing my temple to make up for it, running a hand up and down my spine. He gave me a shirt to wear, a clean one of his, and from that point on they were my preferred nighttime wear because it was exactly what Alex would pick for me to wear. It was that comfort after a long day, his hand soothing, up and down my spine.

He handed my tea back to me and it healed me as soon as I sipped it. "What have you been up to today, mister?"

He sighed. "Nothing. I took a shower."

I smirked. "I can tell."

"Hey!" He couldn't sound upset if he tried; a big smile and a voice that tipped with laughter. "I had a valid excuse."

"I know. I know." I pinched his cheek. "And I'm very proud of you for being a big boy and doing it without me telling you."

He whacked away my hand but tugged me closer. "What do you want to do now?"

I grumbled and laid my head in the slope between his neck and shoulder. "Sleep. Watch TV. I don't know."

"Why don't we sleep?" He suggested.

I sat up straight and placed my tea on a flat surface after nearly spilling it on Alex. "You just want to nap."

"Uh, yeah. Come on, I need it, you need it. Let's sleep."

"It's too early."

"It's never too early to nap."

I rolled my eyes. "Then, it's too late. I'm hungry."

"Do you want to order something?"

"It's too early."

"Oh, come on, Janie. Don't make me force-feed you."

I laughed. "And then snuff me out with a pillow."

"Yeah." He laughed in return. "Come on, let's eat."

We ate and passed out after. We both woke briefly around 10 PM and fought because Alex did eat my ice cream. He promised to get some tomorrow and that it would never happen again (liar) and then we went back to sleep, both snoring and sounding in desperate need of a sleep apnea mask. But we had the other and I called out sick the next day.

*

A few days before the Brit Awards, I was informed we were going. The band had never attended before and I had obviously never gone before. Alex listed out the whole plan of the boys dressing as old English hunting men.

"You can join us," he said as we ate dinner in bed. We often did this when we ate at home, which wasn't very often. We didn't have enough room to put a dining table in and I preferred the comfort of our bed to that of a chair. We ate out most nights anyway. It seemed like every night we were out somewhere. That mostly had to do with Alex finally getting a hefty paycheck from album and tour sales. We still ate at McDonald's quite often.

I rolled my eyes. "I am not dressing like a boy for an award show."

He tugged at my waist, making me slosh my salad around. "You'd look hot in anything. You know that."

"Well, maybe, but I want to dress nice. How many occasions will I have to wear a beautiful dress?" I was slowly falling in love with fashion. London makes you want to dress your best.

"You could wear a beautiful dress every day if you wanted."

"I work as an assistant at a publishing house, not Vogue. Besides, I want to look like a proper English lady for my English gentleman. Where else would we do that?"

"A wedding," Alex suggested.

I scrunched up my nose and shook my head. "We've already done that."

"We've already done the award show thing too," he pointed out.

"Yeah, and you wore a rain jacket. NME is different. I want to be fancy dress for the Brits. You'd wear jeans to our wedding if you could."

He raised an eyebrow, questioning, but not trying to be apparent about it. "Our wedding?"

I hadn't realized the slip of the tongue. "Ew. I don't know why I said that."

"The thought of marrying me disgust you?" He joked. 

"Well, yeah, I mean—I don't know, shush. I don't want to talk about it." I was flustered. Alex has that effect on most people and he's good at using it. He doesn't make it obvious but he'll make you feel like he's studying you.

He shrugged, turning his eyes away. "Neither do I."

"Weddings are gross," I groaned.

"Yeah." He looked over at me, sparks in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

I slapped his arm. "Stop. Let me eat my dinner in peace. God, Alex."

"I didn't say anything!"

I didn't respond. I poked away at my salad and the conversation returned to the Brits. "We're just taking a piss out of the whole thing, you know."

"You want the free alcohol."

"Fuck yes and that's why you'll go with me."

"I'd go with you even if it wasn't." Although, alcohol always helped.

"Aw, you must really love me." He leaned out, puckering his lips.

"Oh, shut it, you."

He washed the dishes that night and then he joined me in the shower. Under the water mist, after we had sex and while I washed his hair, he said, "I'd marry you, you know."

I didn't know. We never talked about things that heavy. "I know," I said.

"We're too young for that kind of thing," he said.

I nodded. "It's a cheesy thing to do anyway."

Alex didn't say anything but he had always known every thought I had as it passed through me. My need to mock it meant I really wanted it.

For the Brits, I didn't go all out because even if it felt more official than NME, it wasn't the type of event you wore a ballgown to. I wore a midi black dress whose attractive quality was a low-cut neckline, not that I had any cleavage to show off. But the fabric framed a necklace Alex had gifted me over Christmas. It had a tiny flower pendant that fell on my sternum. He purchased it somewhere in Germany, he can't remember.

Alex dressed as an old English hunter was much more attractive than I thought it would be. He had a newsboy hat with a twig sewn into it that he gave me as soon as we arrived at the afterparty and I wore it for the rest of the night. We lost it at some point on the way home. I can't quite remember. We got really drunk.

The Brits made the mistake this year of allowing guests to drink alcohol at the table, worsened by the fact they gave a pre-ordered liquor cache under the table. It was almost a bet to have us drink it all. I read out the program they gave us to Alex. It hadn't gotten too rowdy yet, we were actually planning on eating dinner if we hadn't arrived after the main course period. We managed to snag a piece of dessert before the main show started. 

"Oh, lookie here," I said, pointing to a photo of the band displayed in the program. "Cutie patootie."

Alex scoffed, "I look like I just wet meself."

I cackled. He wasn't far off. He was sitting with his nervous bug-eyed gaze and his hands stuffed between his knees. "Well, I think you look cute."

I continued flipping and Alex slagged off, "All that Brit School nonsense."

"But Adele." I held up the spread of Adele with a BRIT Trust check.

"Yeah, but you don't see me whining on about Barnsley." He sipped back another glass of alcohol. He was deeper in than I and he would remain far more drunk than me the whole night, a rare exchange. 

I snorted. "I don't think anyone is whining on about Barnsley. I liked it though."

"That's because you were the most popular lass there."

I laughed at the idea. "No, I wasn't."

He sat back, his look completely serious. "What are you on about? Everyone loved you."

I continued flipping through the pages, skimming through the text. "I was an easy lay, Alex, you can say it."

"Stop with that nonsense." He had been sensitive ever since some Mirror story had come out about my behavior in school. I didn't know why people would care so much about what I got up to in college. I had admittedly been hurt by the article but I didn't feel any different than when Will would call me a slut. You know, except the whole national scale about the whole thing. I was partially honored by the whole thing that someone would deem me popular enough to publish in a tabloid. It was like I was a soap star my mother would read about. That was the bad part. My mother read it. She brought it up at Christmas dinner, a sly "Jane's famous enough to be called a loose woman."

I tore my eyes away from the program and looked at Al. "It's not nonsense if it's true."

"You don't have to be down on yourself."

I laughed though I didn't find it funny and shook my head in annoyance. "I'm not down on myself. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm not a virgin. Shocker." He could tell I was slightly ticked off, looking back down at Adele.

"I know. I guess...I just didn't know how you...felt toward the whole...I don't know...thing...I just..."

I snapped my head up. "Are you interviewing me?" I laughed.

"Huh?" He was cute, brows furrowed under the brim of his hat.

I pushed his hat down over his eyes, forcing him to readjust it. "I'm choosing to embrace my sexuality this year."

"Oh. Okay." He waited a few seconds before saying, "Does that mean we're gonna fuck in the bathroom?"

I gasped and slapped his chest. "Alexander. I am a lady and you a gentleman, slow your horses."

"Well, then, come hither madame, and let's copulate in the loo."

I laughed hard, "Please never say copulate again. I can tell why people thought you were a weirdo at Barnsley."

His face dropped. "Did people really think that?"

I snuffed a chuckle. "No, Alex, geez, you still care what those bums think of you?"

"No, but, I guess, my impression was that I was liked."

"Alex," I placed my hands on his shoulder with complete sincerity in my voice, "everybody loved you. Except maybe Will and that group."

His eyes squinted. "Will didn't like me?"

I crossed my legs and turned back to the program. "You bagged the hottest lass in school, what do you think?"

Then, we drank, drank, drank. Any leftover alcohol we had went to spraying the boys when they won. For their first award, Alex was over on Jamie's lap and I was charged with making sure the wooden duck wasn't forgotten at our table amongst the champagne chaos. I handed it over James Ford and Richard Hawley amidst the chaos. Alex held a horn and a flask, which showed no shame in the obvious inebriation as he said, "We are the Arctic Monkeys and we are the most fantastic" before blowing the aforementioned horn into the microphone.

In the span of heading on stage and returning to the table, the lads must have drank more because they came back even more wasted. It was an easy coping mechanism for the slow pain of the award show with brief breaks of relief as Mark Ronson and Amy Winehouse performed and the Osbournes hosting, who also had obvious intoxication. 

I laughed so hard I almost peed myself as Vic Reeves and Sharon Osbourne fought over who got to read the winner of the Mastercard British Album of the Year (this is very important because Sharon also got pissed at Vic for not remembering the award he was presenting). The whole ordeal had me drunk laughing into Alex's arms and the only thing keeping me upright was his side, which of course meant the moment they were announced the winner and Alex left my side to go onstage I fell on my ass, nearly tugging him down with me.

"Are you alright?" He asked with a tone of laughter. He reached down to pick me up. 

"Yeah." I tried to hold more laughter back but it was unbearable. "I'm so drunk, Alex."

He laughed just as hard as me. "I think I am too."

"Oh." I laughed some more. "I think you have to go get your award."

"I think so too." We laughed some more until Alex was pushed away toward the stage where he walked up very slowly making Sharon yell that they didn't have enough time making me laugh even more. Thank god for Katie, now keeping me upright with her tiny frame.

Nick took my place onstage with Alex as they leaned into one another, twin poles keeping each other standing. Alex's speech went as most speeches had that night: a thank you to the BRIT School in the style of Adele, Kate Nash, Leona Lewis, and the audience of BRIT School attendees. Except for the obvious credential of going to the BRIT School. It was all very tongue-in-cheek drunk hilarious. Luckily the band made it back in time for Paul McCartney and for that, I will always be thankful as I risked my ankles swaying and jumping to "Live and Let Die."

At the affiliated after-party, I danced in my heeled boots with Katie and used the toilet so many times I must have set a Brits record. Alex became rather tired early on and slumped in a chair around 1 AM. We left soon after that, sloppily drunk waiting for a cab, leaning into each other silently. We had our photo taken and it is the first time I can recall visibly having photographers snap pictures. All before then had been sly shots and from that point on some barrier had been broken. I didn't mind it as much as Alex did. I wasn't thrilled by it either but I liked the idea of looking back on memories of that night that I was too out of to remember.

In the back of the cab, going home together, we fiddled with each other's hands and talked softly. Such a loud night had winded down and it was just us (and the driver) together. "You know your speech got cut off?" I asked him. 

"Yeah." He nodded slowly and his eyes fluttered. "Guess The BRIT School weren't happy with their proud graduates."

I chuckled. "Do you know how happy I am I went to Barnsley?"

He laughed and shook his head. "You might be the only one."

I moved closer to him. "I better not be. I'd have never met you."

Alex stared at me in disbelief. He looked like he was slowly processing the information into his system. His touch was soothing on me as he leaned his forehead to mine. "I love you. You got that, right?"

I smiled so close to him. "I know. Love you too. Did you know?"

He tilted his head slightly. "I had an idea." He kissed me then, close, tight, in the backseat, on our way home, with each other.

*

For my birthday—the 22nd one—Alex and I held a mild party, which turned into a bigger one. Amidst the chaos, Alex and I escaped outside and had a smoke break. Up against our building's brick wall, we soaked in our hazy drunkenness. We laughed ridiculously but we were still able to stand up straight.

"Should we get a cat?" I asked him. Georgia and Kyle had just adopted one.

"Who would take care of it?" Alex asked.

I laughed, even if I was plotting ways to steal Georgia and Kyle's cat. "Fair enough."

Alex looked away and his demeanor had changed, just an inch. His face had dropped to a neutral tone, other than his lips, slightly downturned. "What's wrong?" I asked. He shook his head, avoiding my eyes. I reached out and brushed his cheek. "Tell me. It's not right to be sad on my birthday. It's the most magical day of the year."

He smiled at my enthusiasm, always happy when I was happy. I worried that meant I brought him down when I was sad so often. He looked up, holding something back in himself. "Are you happy?"

My brows furrowed, completely lost. "Don't I seem happy?"

"Yeah. I just worry. I don't know what I'm thinking." He looked away, down at his hands, fistfighting each other.

"You're doing the second-guessing thing," I told him. I leaned closer, sliding my arm between his back and the wall, holding onto the middle of his spine. "I'm not gonna up and leave. I hope you trust me."

"Of course," Alex insisted. He reached down and squeezed my other hand. "I struggle with trusting meself."

I brushed his hair behind his ear, rubbing that spot to calm him. "Well, I trust you. That should count for something."

He stood silently and I watched as a small smile grew on his face. "It means everything." He looked up at me, eyes shiny and piercing. "I always want to be here for you."

"You are," I promised. I leaned my forehead against his. "Now, can we stop rehashing old mistakes and enjoy my party?"

Alex put on a happier face, even if I didn't fully buy it. "Yeah. Sorry for being a bummer."

I laughed. "I'm not one to talk. But I'd much prefer you laughing and making crude jokes all night than this."

He stood off the wall and smiled with a promise to not be a party pooper. Then, he made out with me outside our flat's door until Georgia caught us. She wagged her finger at us and we laughed even harder. Throughout the night Alex made jokes about my boobs and tried to fondle me. It was the most glorious display of a man grabbing a woman's ass. 

I loved every second of it because he'd grab my left cheek making me yelp before asking my opinion on the song playing. He cared every bit what I had to say about it. I had never felt that with anyone before and I've never felt it since. Every second, every mumble, every movement captured him and he didn't let up for a second, he never has. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged him closer because I have always wanted him closer. Closer to my lips, closer to my heart, closer to my city, closer to me. I had moved past my problem with public displays of affection in the last year. I don't know what flipped, I think I just was sick of not having him touch me. We didn't usually fondle each other this much (alcohol-afflicted) but not holding his hand felt ridiculous. 

Later, after I had blown out the candles and we were all eating the red velvet cake, Alex and I sat on the edge of our bed like we did most of our eating. We were sitting in the middle of the noise but it was quiet enough to hear each other, music turned down and people's mouths full of cake and I had to ask what had been eating away at me. "Are you happy?" I asked. "I mean, here in London."

Alex leaned away from me. He fought a smile, wanting to seem sincere and not cheesy. "Are you kidding?"

I shifted closer to him, leaning my arm forward to him. "I've kind of figured how you feel but since you asked me I wanted to be sure."

His hand reached out and he pushed back a chunk of hair that had flopped forward, holding onto my shoulder after. "I love being here with you."

"I know that." Alex's affection was never easily hidden. For me, it was always easy to tell if you liked something or not and I always knew he loved me, even when we weren't together loving each other. "But if I weren't here would you live in London?"

Alex looked down at his cake, playing with the fork, thinking to himself. He hummed. "I don't know. I think so." Then, he shrugged, took a bite of cake, and looked up at me, leaning close to my face. "But I just want to be wherever you are."

I rolled my eyes. It was too much for me to handle. I pushed his shoulder and couldn't prevent a grin. "Stop it."

He chuckled, pleased with getting me flustered. It has always been his favourite hobby.

*

The Age of the Understatement came out a month later and while the Puppets were rehearsing for Later with Jools Holland, I listened to it in full. I had heard most of it by that point, through bits at Black Box and things Alex had strummed, but fully mixed, I was struck with the fact that I didn't know how to feel about it. I loved it but the subject matter was hard to digest because despite being together when the album was worked on, the majority of songs were written during our break-up.

It was interesting to get his perspective on these things and to hear his longing and even his bitterness toward me. I had always been so interested in this part of Alex because he never showed it to me during our separation. I had worn my heart on my sleeve to an almost embarrassing degree while he stayed silent other than small encouragements. 

I wasn't very upset over it. I always wondered why or how I became numb to these things. I blamed my parents for most of it. I ignored that nagging thought in my head that said it was something else. I ignored it for a while.

*

In April, Alex's parents came down to London for a week. On the second day, we went on a tour of the Tower of London and ate at Rules for lunch. Penny and I shared oysters and I drank A Kiss for Lillie because I loved the name so much.

"How's it feel being shacked up?" David asked us, drinking a London Pride.

I giggled, covering my face with my napkin while Alex ridiculed, "Dad." I've always felt like a little kid under the Turners' stare. I am frozen at 17 eating Sunday roast in the dead of winter when I dine with them. In front of them, I felt like Alex and I were playing a game of house and his parents were asking us how the game was going.

I dropped my napkin and looked over at Alex. He had a grin and was sipping his London Pride, the boys were alike with that. His occupation with his drink made me answer. "I think it's going well. Alex leaves his wet towels on the floor," I tattled.

"Hey!" He put his drink down, the remnants of liquid cornering his mouth. "Jane doesn't do the dishes."

Penny and David both looked on amused. "That does sound like it's going well," Penny said with a chuckle.

We dug into our meals and recharged from our walking and poor weather by chatting. Penny and David told us the news in Sheffield, which per usual was very light and boring, but it was still interesting to know what back home was like.

"How are your parents liking Bath?" Penny asked me.

"Oh, um." I didn't really know the answer. I don't know if my parents liked anything. "They've settled. Stacey's not a big fan but she'll be headed to college soon." She'd certainly been counting down the days. I was freaked out. How was I old enough for Stacey to be going to college? At least, I wasn't my mother. I think she was having panic attacks over that realization.

"Have they visited here yet?" Penny continued to ask.

I took a swig of my drink to clear the food and anxiety in my mouth. "No, no. I think Stacey wants to but my parents wouldn't let her make the journey on her own."

"If they do, I would love to come down and meet them. It's strange to have not met them yet."

I laughed. The idea of Penny and my mother in a room together felt physically impossible like forcing the ends of a magnet together. "Oh, no, I don't think you'll ever meet my parents. I wouldn't subject you two to that."

They both laughed but the air felt awkward or maybe that was just me. I clasped my hands and placed my elbows on the desk, leaning my chin on them. "I just think..." I tried to think of an explanation. I really did. Nothing came to mind. I would say I had lost any thoughts but I don't think I ever had an opinion on the matter to begin with. My parents with Alex's parents felt like a fever dream and if it were ever to occur I'd make sure Stacey was in the room. "Anyway, should we get dessert?"

*

In the summer, I attended my first Last Shadow Puppets gig with their secret set at Glastonbury. Since it was a weekend and it was Glastonbury, I took off work Friday to attend. The Puppets weren't performing until Saturday but Sinéad O'Connor was on Friday so I made it my mission to see her. 

In addition, Matt came out to play drums with them (and Jack White too on guitar) so per usual the whole weekend turned into a booze-filled extravaganza. Though I mention drinking a lot here we didn't do it very often (well, as often as any Brits in their 20s convincing themselves they're not alcoholic). Simply, this year's more notable points occurred over a pint. I blacked out during Jay-Z's headlining set on Saturday, but other substances might have been involved there too. I mean, we also got to see Amy Winehouse again and Leonard Cohen on Sunday for which I cried during "Hallelujah" because I'm a cliche, what was there not to love?

After this, Alex and I returned to London unchanged, slipping back into our old habits, just like I have always wished for. We returned to even older habits of writing together, although less planned. At night, I would write in one of my notebooks and Alex would sometimes join in. Neither of us said anything about it, fearful it would ruin the magic.

Around this time, Alex started bringing up Los Angeles. He started small, one Saturday or Sunday afternoon in July, while I was fixing one of the holes in his trousers. My sewing skills were minimal back then (I pride myself in saying they have improved in recent years) but far better than Alex who struggled to thread a needle.

He kept me company as we sat on the floor, my eyes concentrated on the fabric, poking the needle through it. "I was talking to Matt about LA recently. About going out there," he said.

I hummed. "Well, you know I've always wanted to go."

"We were thinking at the end of the year. After the Puppets' tour. Recording out there at Josh Homme's." My eyes were too focused on the needle and thread than looking at him. Alex had talked about Homme before, slowly getting to know him through the years. Homme had become a common name rather than Queens of the Stone Age's Josh Homme.

"I could probably get off for a week or during the holidays," I told him nonchalantly (mistake).

I looked up and he handed me the scissors, smiling bright and wide. "We'll do all the hikes you want."

I stared at him narrowly. "I just like nature."

He held his hands up. "I'm not knocking you for it."

A few weeks later, we had Jamie, Katie, Matt, and his new girlfriend over for dinner. (Nick was in Sheffield for his mum's birthday). We got a foldout table for us all to sit at and Alex cooked something, I don't remember what but it smelled and tasted good. I was very impressed.

We had seen much of each other in the past few months but this had been the first time we all sat and just talked in a long while. There was catching up and getting to know this girlfriend of Matt's that didn't last for long, but I remember her being nice. 

We had finished eating long ago, but we were still sitting with our empty plates, chatting away when LA came up again. An unknowing Matt asked, "What are you going to do with this place when we're in LA?"

The only way I made sense of what Matt was asking was to assume he was referring to someone house sitting. I shrugged. "I mean, Georgia has a key to check in if we'd need it."

"Two places. Swanky, swanky," Jamie uttered.

"What?" I furrowed my brows and tried to get some understanding from Alex. His face was hidden away, his hand rubbing his face, and that was clear enough for me but I still asked. "Why would we need two places?" I asked sternly. "We're only going to be there for a week."

"Al told us you were coming out with us," Matt said, a little lost.

I tried to look at Alex but he shied away and it became clear that he had bent the truth when he told me about LA. "For how long?" I asked Matt.

"We're all thinking of moving out there. At least for the next album."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm getting the impression you didn't know this."

"Uh-huh," I uttered. I stood up and began to clear the dishes. 

"Should we go so you guys can fight?" Matt asked.

I walked to the kitchen, only a few measly steps away from our makeshift table. Everything too close. "We're not fighting," Alex said, always quick to deny a fight, horrible at diffusing one.

I didn't want to bicker in front of them so I put the dishes in the sink and asked if anybody wanted dessert. The remainder of the evening was tense but I leaned closer to Katie than Alex and when they left I was sad to see them go because I didn't want to fight and I didn't want to do the dishes.

The door shut and Alex stared on at me. I choose dishes. I turned the faucet on and Alex said, "I can do them."

"Will you or will you say that and then not do them?" My back was to him but I could picture him clearly, awkward standing between the foldout table and our bed.

"Look." He sighed harshly, I could hear the aches of it ring in my ear. "Things got bigger and I did a shite job at keeping you informed."

My boiling anger couldn't cool down with him talking so I figured to just out with it. I quickly turned off the water and turned to look at him. "I always thought that once we were finally in the same city as one another—let alone the same house as one another—that all those old problems we had of half-truths and not telling each other things was over with but you seem to have a hard time with it."

"I knew if I told you, you'd get pissed—"

My eyes widened. "You're a fucking idiot. I'm even more pissed now 'cause you lied to me."

"I didn't lie to you. I was trying to work things out and I knew you wouldn't go if I told you about moving out there," Alex tried to explain.

"What were you planning on doing? Kidnapping me out there?"

"No, I was just trying to work things out. Can't I work things out before telling you about them?"

"Why can't we do that together?" All our habits had been hard to break. I thought we had broken away from this one. We told each other all the details only for our ears and those walls, just like in my childhood bedroom, but just like back then things were always omitted. I can't lie, I'd done it too, but mine were much smaller, not life-changing.

"Oh, come on, Jane, because I know you. You would have shut the idea down right away even if I came to with some grand presentation. You only want things your way."

"Because it's my turn! I get to pick! You said that, not me." I held it over his head because I had the right to. Of course, I wanted things my way, I had bent to people's will for so long that I wanted them to bend toward me, but that just didn't happen.

"You're right and I'm sorry. Nothing's definitive. It's not like we're leaving tomorrow." His dissipation angered me and I was no longer open to accepting apologies.

"If you move out to LA, I'm breaking up with you." It was final in my mind and it hurt but it would hurt more for him to go.

He stepped back. His head moved around, rattled and confused. "What?!"

I pointed to myself. My face was hot and my fury was on fire. "It's my turn! I get to decide! We're not going."

"You don't get to decide that."

"Uh, yeah, I do because it's my turn."

"So, what did you think you'd have jurisdiction over for the rest of our lives?"

"At least for a year!"

"When we leave it will be a year."

I let out a breath and couldn't even look at him. A realization ticked over me. "And our lease will be up. Are you conspiring against me or something?" I scowled. Hard.

"No. I'm talking about doing things we talked about for years. We're fucking off to America."

"Don't use my words against me." Alex likes to do this.

"You're using mine against me." I like to do this.

"I don't want to fuck off to America anymore. You're asking me to give up my job, my friends, my flat. It's not like you'd do any of that for me." That's what hurt most. Those tallying of sacrifices. Maybe because I was willing to do it and I know he'd never be. There is something more wrong with me than him but he was well-adjusted and I was a petulant child.

"I'd do a lot for you and you know it."

"Then do this for me. What's so wrong about London? You recorded a whole album here when we weren't together. Now that we are, you have to go to another country."

"For a few months. Not the rest of your life and you don't have to come!" He emphasized that part.

"I know that! I know that, you fucking idiot. I want to be with you. That's the difference but you seem awful desperate to get away from me."

"Fuck off with that, Janie. You know that's not true. I'll go out there for a few months. I'll come back. That's it." He seemed to want to put an end to the fight, didn't want the fireworks to keep going and I was determined more by that to keep it going. To stretch it out for as long as possible.

"Then, we're breaking up. I'm not doing this coming and going shit for the rest of my life."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"Why does it matter? You're moving away to sunny Los Angeles with all the models."

"Do you think I'm gonna cheat on you? Let me remind you who cheated." Touché.

"Oh, fuck that. We were barely together when I went to Aruba and god knows what you were doing. And I'm not threatened by some model. Shockingly the one thing I don't have doubts about is that you love me."

"Good!" He said it so harshly it almost made me laugh. "Stop with all this break-up talk then."

"Why can't you just stay here?" I argued it, even though I knew it was no longer an option. It was as if he was already gone.

"Why can't you come with me? You'll write, you'll hike, you'll be the coolest chick in all of LA."

"Did you just call me a chick? Who are you?" I laughed at the ridiculousness and Alex joined in but I was laughing at him, nowhere near with him. I returned to the argument quickly. "I like my job. That might shock you since you just sit around here all day but I like going to work."

He rolled his eyes and didn't address my dig at his career. Alex works hard, he knows he works hard, he knows I know he works hard. There was no need to pointlessly defend it. "You tolerate your job. You want to be an assistant for the rest of your life, fine, but I think—I know you'd rather be doing the writing. Come on, you'll be Joan Didion or whatever."

"I prefer Eve Babitz," I stalely said, crossing my arms.

Alex shrugged. "Fine. Eve Babitz. Or Patti Smith. Or fucking Steinbeck. Just give me a little."

I scoffed, "I give you a lot." I walked around but he kept following. The place was so fucking small.

"I know. I just know you'll love it or you could get a job out there with Simon & Schuester, and ask to be transferred."

"They're not gonna transfer an editorial assistant and their US offices are in New York." I felt he didn't even care enough to research that part. It was plain and simple that I would just follow him around always.

"Then work at the bajillion other publishing houses out there. Or get published yourself. You're worth more than some dumb assistant."

"I like my job and will you stop chasing after me?" He stopped his movement and I walked to the opposite wall, still not too far away. I muttered, "I fucking hate this place."

"Then, come to LA, we'll get a big place where you can hide out in the guest room when you hate me," Alex offered. But it didn't matter. I just wanted it to end.

"Will you stop?" I was just exhausted, slumping down on our bed.

He sighed. He was over fighting too. We didn't kiss and make up, but he tossed me the TV remote and went and did the dishes. I fell asleep before he came to bed.

We avoided the topic for a while. Alex wanted me to have some distance to think about it and I did. I pictured living in a warmer climate, having that tan on my skin I so desperately loved. I wanted to make him happy most of all. But, for once, at first, I wasn't willing to give up something that made me happy. My job wasn't glorious but it was stable and I needed that stability. Alex had been the most reliant thing to lean on up to that point in my life and as written and seen he was often coming and going, even if emotionally he was always there for me.

In August, before he left on a string of Puppets dates, Alex asked me if I thought more about it. I had but I didn't have any answer. He reassured me of his return and a promise that I would love LA, even if I just came for a week. I didn't doubt that part, but I didn't want to give in.

*

When autumn approached and Alex returned for his September-long break, we fell back into step but not back into comfortability. LA always hung over our heads and Alex didn't bring it up again but I know he was waiting for an answer just like I was waiting to come to an answer. It was a debate between heart and head. Georgia shamed me for the whole idea of leaving England. Stacey cooed at the romance of it all. One was my peer, the other was my 16-year-old sister.

Late one night—it must have been around midnight, either Tuesday night or Wednesday morning—Alex and I played gin rummy, drinking wine. We were silent other than the record playing quietly in the background. I could tell he was getting sleepy.

I drew a card and asked, "How do you think we'll be when we're older?"

He quirked a small smile. "Does gin rummy get you sappy? You've asked me this before."

I wasn't asking him this in the same way, not fishing for a compliment of being an old married couple. I need assurance. "Do you think we'll be together?"

He waited and looked at his card like he was trying to find a match, trying to make sense of his hand. Then, he looked up, smiled, and said, "Yes."

His earnestness was shocking, blunt, plain, and simple. "You've got a lot of faith." With every passing day, I believed Alex and I could work forever, if we got past this hump of young adulthood then we'd be okay. Every day I doubted we could get past that hump. 

But then, his smile grew bigger and sleepier and he said, "It's you and me. What's there to doubt?"

I laughed. "Do you want the list?"

He shrugged. "You're never gonna know unless you try."

Alex won that round and we decided to call it a night. I took a shower and he did something during that time, I don't know what, but he managed to stay awake for me to slip under the sheets and into his arms. I nudged closer to him and nozzled my head in that crook of him.

"You smell nice," he told me. His hand scratched my damp hair, tender and careful, the best kind of massage. 

I felt everything in me relax. I shifted my head to speak and breathe clearly. "I'll come with you. To LA. I'll come."

His movements stilled like if he changed anything I would turn around and reject him, spit all over him. "You sure?"

I sighed. "I think so. But if not I can just live off you for the rest of my life." I feared that but still joked. Coping mechanism.

Alex moved away from me, shuffling me down his arm so he could see my face, a small kiss between my brows. "It would be an honour."

I ducked into his neck and said, "I'm gonna have to be my own person one day." I don't know if I was saying it to him or to me.

I squeezed my arm with some reassurance. "You know, one day you'll understand how cool you are."

"Nah," I shook my head, "I'm just Plain Jane."

*

I have wondered what it would be like if Alex wrote this book and how his perspective might change the impression of the story. I think that most about LA.

We left in November. Alex spent the month of October playing the final dates of the Puppets' tour. I gave my notice at Simon & Schuster and though my decision displeasured Georgia, she took me out to drinks, just the two of us. My parents had approved of the move, even if it didn't matter much where I lived, but they took me out to dinner and Stacey was excited to visit. 

There wasn't much to pack, and I left behind memorabilia that would cost a lot of money today, monetarily and sentimentally. Alex got a small house, bigger than our flat, but smaller than future homes. We weren't sure how long we'd be there so staying modest with our space seemed proper, especially when we were renting.

Truthfully, past my slight resentment against LA for ripping me away from London, I took to California quickly. I liked the heat and the ocean, even if it was winter. It was just a more lukewarm winter. 

Josh Homme's studio being in Joshua Tree was the cherry on top. Alex's memory was always intact and he made it his mission to get me into the national park as soon as possible. Smart move. Throughout winter, we must have hiked every inch of it, seen Gram Parsons memorial too many times, and stargazed at the Milky Way a thousand times. 

We always had fun at night. The speculation of what went on in the desert isn't far off and, though it wasn't a constant thing, partaking in psychedelics wasn't rare. I quite liked it. I think we all did. Joshua Tree at night was definitely a good place to do it. I'm pretty sure that town is founded off of it. 

I looked at the sky when we did it but more often than not I enjoyed looking at people. Like everything else, people usually meant just Alex. His hair was shaggier, but not long, more Beatles mop-top with curly ends. His eyes looked brownier and felt more puppy-dog, paired with a pout. He hadn't been wearing a heavy coat or long sleeve too often and I liked seeing him in short sleeves, fitter than ever. I liked watching him do it more than anything. 

He'd turn to me, notice me staring, scruff my hair in his hands. "Look at us two. Observers." We simply liked watching each other. Always have, even through the rough times. I just found him intriguing and interesting to look at. He tempted something in me that made me so desperate to stare on just like when we were 17. I asked him once if I had that quality too. He laughed, finding the question ridiculous because "Of course. Who wouldn't look at ya?"

Parts of me wanted to return to London where I felt like the one in control. Being unemployed didn't help. Alex would come home to me, which was lovely, but I wanted something to come home from too. Alex brought me to the studio occasionally but I wasn't a fan of being the girlfriend, sitting on an amp, waiting around. I didn't have any friends either. That might have been the worst. Sitting around doing next to nothing grew boring quickly and though I wrote I didn't know what I was writing for.

But I did write something and I wrote often. My days of notebooks were gone and I switched to typing. Something I was dreadful at, sticking my index fingers out and pointing. Alex taught me how to type. He'd drawn up a diagram for me to memorize where the keys were and I always laughed because I could've just looked at my keyboard. He thought staring at it on a piece of paper would be easier.

Eventually, he unlocked the true thing that would make me learn how to type properly and quickly: a competition. It was on one of those stupid typing websites that I had tried out but got sick of typing "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." However, one day, Alex said, "We've finally found something that I'm better than you at." (This is a clear lie because he's better at almost everything than me but he indulges me so you must too). It became my mission then to be better at typing than Alex. I achieved this by the second week in California because he's not that good of a typist either. 

So, I began typing instead of handwriting, which meant I was writing a greater quantity than ever. To get out of the house, I would go to a cafe and type and type and type. Drinking way too much coffee, which led to my sleep schedule getting completely fucked up (along with those acid trips). Sometimes, I would sleep the whole day while Alex left and returned from the studio. It worked out kind of nicely. It's like I wasn't even missing him. However, it wasn't highly advisable for a healthy lifestyle so I tweaked it just a little, staying up a whole day, and passing out at 9 PM. I blamed jetlag. At that point, we had been there for a month.

That's about when I became bored of California. Early December. I loved being in California, I loved being with Alex & the band, but I didn't have much of a life. It was recreational play with my boyfriend and his best mates. I didn't have any friends of my own to go out drinking with and shit-talk about how Alex didn't pick up the wet towels. When I voiced this to Alex, it never came from a calm standpoint. That has always been my issue.

I told him, "I have no life here. I'm just doing whatever you do and you don't do anything so I do nothing." It was late and we were going to bed but I had to start something.

Alex—clad in his pajamas and tired from actually doing things all day—leaped quickly to frustrated aggravation. I had changed that calm demeanor in him. It killed me. He stood up and walked to the door with his back to me. Not even a bother of wishing me good night.

"Where are you going?" I scoffed at him.

He sighed before turning around and spitting, "I'm not gonna be your punching bag. I love you but I'm getting tired of this shit. If you're going to blame me for every bad feeling you have, then leave. I'm not making you happy then go."

He watched my fury dissolve. I regretted and despised my need to ruin a perfect evening with anger. He did nothing wrong and a pit would develop in me, forcing its way out, fighting its way through me before I was firing away. 

I swallowed that lump. "I'm sorry."

My eyes downcasted, he walked over to me on the edge of the bed, sitting beside me. "It's fine." His arm came around me and I turned into him, hugging him properly. He squeezed back tightly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Talk. Like adults. "Yeah," I said in his ear. "I'd like that."

I told him every emotion that had festered. Praised California for its inspiration and blamed it for my loneliness. I went on and on never-ending and he listened, held my hand, and didn't say anything. I cried at one point, not heavily, but enough for him to squeeze my hand tighter in reassurance. "I don't do too well with change. Clearly." I brushed it away, sniffling.

Alex looked over at my face and realizing I had come to my conclusion, he finally spoke and asked, "Do you want to go back home?"

I laughed and looking at him I felt the answer should be no, but my eyes fell down, and soon did my smile. "Maybe."

"Okay." I wanted so badly not to disappoint him and he knew that. He tugged me close and hugged me. "It's okay. You'll go back and I'll be back for Christmas and we'll do something special. It'll be okay." I cried hard into his shoulder, probably getting snot over him, but he didn't care. His hand soothed my shaking shoulders. "I'm sorry I'm selfish."

I pulled away, rubbing my nose. "Stop. You're doing something wonderful and I love being here, I just think it's too soon. Maybe in a couple of years, this would have been better and I could've gotten a job out here but something happens to me when I'm not occupied. I feel like I go crazy. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, don't be sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't do that. You don't deserve all the mean things I've said. You're so loving and caring and I'm a bitch."

"Stop it. It's okay to not want to do everything I want to do. I love that we butt heads, that you put me in my place. I know that I broke a promise to you and you have every right to be pissed at me for it. I just want you to do what's best for you."

"Yeah," I said with a shaky breath. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms. I was the beating waves crashing onto his harbor. His lighthouse stayed put.

*

The following night, we went to Ivar, a nightclub in West Hollywood. I was still debating if I would return to California in 2009 and with that, I decided to enjoy the time we had left before we returned home for the holidays. The club was packed, I was dressed slutty because that's what you do when it's 70ºF in winter. 

A little black dress is key. Along with a nice pair of heels, which I usually didn't dare dance in but that night I wanted to feel glorious. Paired with the gifted flower pendant, I felt drunk happy. I've always felt happier drunk and since I became aware of this fact it has worried me.

However, that night, I felt well-paced and among happy people. Alex was smiling and Alex hated these kinds of things where people were all squished together, drowning him, so that must mean it was a really good night. I clung to him, arms around his neck, swaying amongst the loud bass beats from the DJ. 

"I love dancing," I told him.

He chuckled, lighter than me. His nose nudged my cheek. "I can tell. You're always happy when you're dancing."

I pulled away from him, shimming my hips. "Well, the music tells me to move and I listen. You're stiff as a board."

"Me nature, I suppose."

I shrugged, moving back to him. "You're cute when you're watching me."

"I'm always watching you. I can't look away from you."

I giggled because it was too much sweetness, his sugar was rotting me from the inside out. I tapped his nose. "You're a charmer. You're my little guy."

"Yeah." He smiled. "I like being your guy. Your fella."

"Fella!" I exclaimed, swaying, unbalanced in my heels. "You're my fella. And I, your lady." I moved my feet side to side, singing into his ear, "You are woman and I am man."

He laughed, right back into my ear, like a game of telephone. "Don't go all musical theater on me, Janie."

I messed with his hair, my fluffy puppy dog. "I balance you out."

"I'd be that shy boy up against the wall if it weren't for you."

"Yes, but you'd have all the girls wrapped around your finger," I reminded him. All those armchair girls he used to have.

"I only want one girl and I'm wrapped around her finger." I suppose to him, he favoured a dancefloor girl (and maybe this is when I started to fall in love with that song, remembering that tiny boy who wrote it).

"Who?" I requested to hear him utter it. My name on his lips.

He chuckled, looking up at the ceiling, strobe lights flickering. "Don't make me play that game."

"But I want to hear you say it," I whined.

Alex looked down, those brown eyes close to mine and he kissed me. We were transferring heat back and forth to one another, capturing each other within the madness as the crowd swelled around us. "You've got me wrapped around your finger, Janie. All yours." It was the greatest gift a girl could ask for.

It felt like we were stuck inside a speaker, the whole place pulsating and booming. The vibration ate away at my soul and it soon became unbearable, which meant it was time for a smoke break. We snuck outside and shared a cigarette because it felt more romantic. I held the lighter and Alex held the cigarette to my lips.

"I want to see a movie this weekend but everything that's out right now is depressing," I told him.

"We could go see Twilight." The movie had come out two weeks prior and Alex couldn't stop joking about it. He would comment on the reports of diehard fans and I would say it's no different than his fans but he counters this by saying that Twilight is a shittier movie than their shite music. Yet, he kept bringing the movie up. Almost like he wanted to go and see it...interesting...

"Landmark is doing Harold & Maude." Landmark had been our go-to activity with retro movies galore. It is now Vista Theater owned by Quentin Tarantino, no relevance here. I just thought I'd mention it as a fun fact.

"Aw," he cooed, leaning the side of his body up against the bricks. "I love Harold & Maude."

I smiled an impossible-to-resist smile. "I know you do. It's 'cause you look like Harold."

He sneered. "I do not. His eyes are all far apart."

"But you've got the same hair." I brushed my hand through his head of hair.

Alex didn't believe me for a second. "We do not. That makes you Ruth Gordon."

I placed my hand over my heart. "I consider that to be an honor."

"I know you do, Rosemary's Baby."

"'Anyone! Anyone! It didn't have to be a no-good slut straight from the gutter. Just as long as she is young, healthy, and not a virgin!'" I quoted.

He laughed, throwing his head back in delight. "You've seen that movie too many times."

"It's 'cause I love John Cassavetes so much."

"You want a guy like Guy Woodhouse?" Hmm, a satan-worshiping husband or Alex?

"No, I want a guy like John Cassavetes. You look like him a little. If you got a little facial reconstruction."

"A little facial reconstruction?" He laughed.

"Well, I see more of him in you than Harold. Besides, Cassavetes was an alcoholic and died 20 years ago, you're much more my taste."

His laughter continued. "That's good to know."

Then, we were kissing and we kissed for a while, long enough that we needed time to separate and breathe. Though we had less air to breathe inside the club, we decided it was an appropriate time to head back inside, at least to let the boys know we were still around.

On our way back inside, we walked by a woman. She stopped me, taking my arm and saying, "I love what you're wearing."

A stranger had never complimented my outfit before. I've had unknown men whistle at me but never a woman telling me, "And that necklace, it's stunning." She was platinum blonde with a short bob by her ears. She was dressed in a white babydoll dress and had pearl bracelets on both her wrists. 

"Oh." My hand went up to it and I fiddled with it, looking over at Alex. His hands were in his pockets and his eyes watched on, nudging me forward with his gaze like I was a child on their first day of school. "He got it in Germany."

"Foreign. You and the necklace."

"British," I told her.

"I've loved British people ever since Harry Potter. Are you British too?" Her eyes turned to Alex.

"Yeah."

"Are you here on vacation?"

"No, he's recording an album," I explained.

"An album? Cool," she praised for a moment before turning back to me. "What do you do?"

"I was an editorial assistant for Simon & Schuester back in London but, I guess, I'm unemployed right now."

"She's a writer," Alex spoke for me. Always my cheerleader.

She squealed. "Oh, my god! I'm an art director for ELLE magazine! You know, I could tell you were a writer. You have that look to you."

I laughed and partially thought that Alex had paid this woman to approach me. "What look is that?" I asked.

Her eyes trailed up and down me, X-raying me and examining the image. "You just seem astute. Maybe it's the British thing."

"You don't know many British people," I told her and she laughed and laughed and at some point, Alex slipped away back to our group but I didn't notice. We talked and she gave me her phone number and her name: Opal. I'd comment on the peculiarity of it but I'm Plain Jane so who am I to pass judgment? Actually, I quite like the name.

Later in the evening, after we had drunk sex (Alex and I, not Opal and I), he hugged me to him and I hugged back. I possess a great need to be near Alex as much as possible, but drunk me would die without it. That part of me will always love hanging off of him. 

My brain was foggy but we were both clear-headed enough to remember the exchange. "I like you a lot, Alex."

He laughed at me. "I figured."

But I was serious, both now in writing it and then when saying it. I turned, sitting up on his chest, elbows on his ribs. "No, like I really like you."

Alex pushed my flyaways back, a funny smirk staring me down. "I really like you too, Janie."

I moaned dramatically. "Like that when you call me 'Janie.' Do you know what that means to me?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "You want to go for round 2?"

"No!" I shouted, furrowing my brows. "This isn't a sexual thing, it's a loving thing."

"Liking thing," he corrected.

I nodded, pouting my lips. My face felt fuzzy. "I always hated when people called me that. I felt like I was being babied or something. Maybe it's something to do with my dad or Tommy or a stupid guy. But then you call me that and it's like an angels' chorus." I was stupid drunk and stood up on my knees, flapping my arms like I was a bird, and fell beside Alex on the bed. Though I demanded this was a serious thing, I wasn't very serious. My drunk words were my sober thoughts. Luckily, they were pretty sweet.

Alex looked over at me, turning onto his side. His eyes were soft and shiny, staring into me. I was like a baby and started pulling at his face, tugging on his cheeks and tapping his nose. He laughed at my actions but was rather emotional, pulling my hands away from his face, and pushing them down to rest on his chest.

"I'm glad I can be not a stupid guy for you." The idea of stupid guys seemed long ago, almost foreign to me. Maybe I chose to block it out or maybe I had a hard time believing that I lucked into Alex. Even if he faulted and he faulted a lot, I never doubted his care for me. He was the first person I felt that unconditional nature from and it transformed something in me, giving me the belief that nothing should ever be less than this, but perhaps nothing will ever be as good as this. As good as him.

"You are, but you're my stupid guy." I giggled, pleased with my insult. I turned onto my side too, placing my arm over his body, pulling myself closer to him. "I really like the person you are and the person you're becoming. I like every version of you. I'll love every version of you."

He was silent for a while. I was able to stay quiet and still. I could tell he was thinking of what I had just said. It was rare that my words bested Al's in the romance department, but maybe once in a blue moon. 

Then, he nodded, swallowed hard, and tried to force something down; emotions, tears, a laugh—I don't know. "I'm a lucky guy," he said quietly.

I shook my head, adamantly insisting, "You're a deserving guy."

*

a/n: i swear i didn't just post this because @goblinontour praised it. but i will keep mentioning the compliment.

[allthesmutl0vers]

Hi! I have a request if you accept.

George and the reader have been dating (sort of secretly) for a while now. The reader is someone who falls outside the typical, generic Slytherin image. She is kind and calm (well, mostly). Until some of her rude bully friends started messing with George, his family and this 'blood traitor' thing about the Weasley name. This is a definite turning point. The reader definitely proves to everyone that she is truly a Slytherin. She shows her scary and cruel side to those who deserve it. From now on, no one will mess with the ones she loves, she can do anything for the guy she loves. Possessive and protective. George's jaw drops... and after all this they may need to find some privacy.

Oo! I love this idea!!😃 Thank you so much for sending it to me 💗Let me see what I can do. Sorry this took me a day to get to, love.

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 🫶

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,959

Summary: Nobody in Slytherin could ever imagine being caught dead with someone from another house, let alone from Gryffindor. Nobody but you, at least. You've always kept to yourself, especially when it comes to your relationship with a certain Weasley twin. Everyone, including even your friends, wonders how you ended up in Slytherin. When those same friends go too far with their deplorable insults, you decide to show them exactly why you were sorted into Slytherin.

TW: Bullying, Name calling, Violence, Smut (P! in V! -You're on birth control), Oral (F! Receiving), Praise, Possessive!George, Protective!George, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Breeding adjacent?- Not sure about this last tw, lmk in the comments if that's what it is.

Song Inspo: Click here (River: Bishop Briggs)

"I'm just saying, this school has gone to the dogs," Pansy huffs. "I mean, seriously, how could Dumbledore think having a werewolf as a professor is a good idea?"

"It was last year, Pansy. Get over it," I mutter as I try to focus on my book. She's nice enough, but I swear to Merlin, she can never just sit in silence. And when she can't think of anything to talk about, she somehow finds a way to talk shit about someone else.

"Didn't peg you for a half-breed sympathizer," pansy quips, leaning back on her hands as we sit in the courtyard.

I roll my eyes, cursing myself for saying anything at all. Because now I'm sucked into a conversation I never wanted to be a part of. "I could say the same thing to you. Isn't your family currently harboring Greyback?" I ask with a raised brow over my book.

"Hush up about that, will you?" Pansy asks as she looks around the courtyard in a panic. "Nobody is supposed to know."

I do my best to ignore her, trying to go back to my book. But when I see George Weasley come into the courtyard with his twins and a band of Gryffindors, and a mix of the other two houses, I can't pull my eyes away.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket. It lights up like a sparkler, and he begins to toss it back and forth with Fred while the others around them 'oo' and 'ahh.' Probably the Whiz-Bangs he was telling me about in our last little rendezvous in the room of requirement, a new invention that they've been working on. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, biting the corner of his lower lip as he catches it again.

I smile back, wishing more than anything that I could just go up and be with him publicly. George has mentioned wanting to go public with our relationship, but being a Slytherin princess makes it a little more than difficult.

Going back generations, all of my family has been sorted into Slytherin. And although my parents are a little more progressive than most Slytherin alumni, they've made it clear how they feel about me dating outside of my house.

"Ugh, look them over there. Tossing around that garbage," Pansy huffs, annoyed.

Before I can say anything, she's already up and walking over with Daphne Greengrass. Shit. I stand up, too, and walk behind them as we approach the small circle that has started to form around Fred and George. "Hey!" Pansy shouts, shoving her way through.

Fred and George look between me and Pansy with confused looks and a knot of nerves forms deep in my stomach. "What do you want, Parkinson?" Fred bites back.

"Surprised you managed to slither your way out of the dungeon," George adds with a smirk.

Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. "How dare you talk to me like that," she spits at them with a venom-laced tone. "I'm just shocked you managed to actually make something. Aren't you failing nearly everything? What's up? Weasley's can't afford a tutor?" She quips.

My fists clench at my sides. It's not fair to blame the children for parents not making more money. Especially when they're the kindest people in the world. I watch George's jaw tick with annoyance. "Better than sucking dick to get a good grade. Or were you on your knees in front of Snape for another reason?" George fires back.

I purse my lips to keep myself from smiling. Nobody is supposed to know that except for me, but the look on Pansy's face makes it well worth telling George about.

Pansy's face turns bright red as everyone around us gasps and starts whispering among themselves. "Shut up," she seethes with anger. She turns to me, and I see her nostrils flare. She knows I had to be the one who told him. "How fucking dare you?" She spits at me. "You promised not to tell anyone. And you tell that filthy fucking blood traitor?!" She practically screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I look over at George, who is already drawing his wand. I shake my head softly before turning back to Pansy. "Actually, he just guessed. You just outed yourself," I quip, taking a step closer to her. "And don't fucking talk about him like that," I snap at her.

"You're defending him?!" She gasps, pointing to George. "You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Have some fucking class," she says with disgust. "Talking with blood traitors," she shakes her head. "What would your parents say?"

Everyone around us falls silent. I've never talked this much. Most of these people have probably never heard me talk at all. "You're one to talk about class, Parkinson," I step closer to her. "Your family is so fucking inbred it's a miracle you're even able to write your name."

Pansy begins to shake with anger as she draws her wand, and I draw mine, too, holding it at my side. "You disgust me. The fact you can call yourself a Slytherin with that filthy mud-blood of a mother is beyond me," she snaps. "And defending a blood traitor to top it off?" She scoffs with disgust.

I grip my wand tight. "Say blood traitor one more time, and I'll remind you just how much of a Slytherin I am."

Pansy clenches her jaw before she opens her mouth. "Blood-"

"Flipendo!" I flick my wand, throwing Pansy back five feet and making her land on her ass. Everyone laughs, including Fred and George.

Pansy stands up in a hurry, brushing off her skit as she aims her wand at me. "Locomotor Wibbly!" she flicks her wand at me, casting the jelly-legs jinx.

George steps in front of me, dodging the jinx with a wave of his wand. "That's enough!" He yells, making everyone fall silent again. Fred and George don't yell in anger, so it catches everyone, myself included by surprise.

"I got it, Georgie," I say without looking at him as I move to stand in front of him. "Levicorpus!" I jinx Pansy, holding her up in the air by her ankles with a dangle of my wand. She screams, frantically trying to cover herself with her skirt. "Had enough?" I ask her with a bite in my tone.

"Let me down!" She screams as everyone points and laughs at her granny panties. Don't try to jinx someone on laundry day.

"That doesn't sound like an apology," I taunt with a smirk as I turn, waving my wand and Pansy over the fountain, holding her a few inches above the water.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy screams as I feel George put a hand possessively on my waist.

"Don't apologize to me," I taunt, leaning into George's touch. Fuck what anyone says.

Pansy looks at George and Fred, who moves to stand at George's side. "I'm sorry!" She cries with tears falling as she hangs upside down over the fountain.

I smirk and pull my wand back, breaking the invisible rope that holds her upside down and she falls into the fountain with a splash. I walk over to the fountain, leaning over the side. "Don't ever let me hear you say shit about any of them again. Got it?" I spit at her as she drips with water.

Pansy nods without a word, sniffling back her tears. I let out a deep breath and turn to see the large crowd that gathered as I dueled with Pansy. "Show's over," I tell them all as I walk up to George.

"Damn, didn't know you had that in you," Fred jokes, running a hand through his red hair.

I huff a laugh. "You know what they say about the quiet ones," I smirk. "I couldn't let her stand there and talk shit about you guys or your family," I tell them both before turning to look up at George. "Let alone my boyfriend," I say softly, admitting what we are aloud for the first time.

George smiles wide and pulls me into his chest. "Finally ready to admit it, huh?" He chuckles, the vibration of it reverberating against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Maybe," I shrug and smile looking up into his eyes.

George bites his lip and leans down to my ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down my spine as he speaks softly in my ear. "As much as I would love to show you off right now, I need you."

My thighs clench at his words as he pulls back to look into my eyes. "Room of requirement?" I tease.

"That or I take you right here, show everyone who you belong to. But better decide quick, angel."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Room of requirement it is."

George leads me through the castle with his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and for the first time, I don't mind giving people a glimpse into my personal life. All of the whispers about George Weasley being with a Slytherin girl roll right off of my back. They don't matter. All that matters right now is getting to where we're going and George blowing my back out.

The door to the room of requirement opens and we walk inside to see the usual lay it that it knows we need.

A bed along the wall, with the silkiest sheets I have ever felt in my life, a small bathroom to clean up in, and a table with a chair. Not really sex up for sex. It appears to be for a student who needs their own room for the night. But it's perfect for what we need it for.

George kisses me as he walks me backward to the bed. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up by my thighs without missing a beat. George lays me back on the bed, my head landing on the pillow as he kneels between my thighs.

I moan as George kisses down my jaw, trailing kisses to the sweet spot behind my ear and down my neck, nipping and sucking the tender skin as the blood beneath his lips rushes through my veins.

George props himself up with one arm as his free hand slides up my thigh, gripping it tightly right at the apex. "I've waited so long to make you mine," he groans as my hands work to unbutton his pants between us.

"I was already yours," I breathe as I get his pants undone.

George's fingers slide my panties to the side as he runs his fingers through my folds, landing on my clit and eliciting a moan to leave my lips. "But now everyone knows you belong to me," he moans softly as I pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and pump it in my hand.

"My parents are going to lose their fucking minds," I moan when he inserts two fingers inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

George smirks and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. "Then you can stay with me and mine," he says like a promise. "Let them lose it, I'll be your shield."

I flip us over so I'm straddling his hips, grinding myself down on him. "Careful, Georgie. Or else I might start to think you're in love with me," I tease as I unbutton my shirt and toss it aside.

George sits up, his chest flush with mine as I straddle him. He reaches around me, kissing my chest as he removes my bra. "Would that be such a bad thing, angel?" George teases as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to suck, nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth.

My head falls back as my fingers run through his hair, pulling him back, and he releases my nipple with a 'pop.' "Only if you don't mean it," I moan softly.

George groans with pleasure. He removes the rest of our clothes with a flick of his wand and impales me on his hard, waiting cock, making me gasp loudly. "Does it feel like I mean it?" He growls, his hand wrapping around to the back of my hair and pulling my head back.

I lift myself up and thrust back down on him, taking him deep inside of me. "Fuck, yes," I moan.

George grips my hip with a bruising force as he works me on top of him. "Then say it. Say you love me," he demands in a husky voice.

"I love you," I moan as he releases his grip on my hair just enough for me to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I love you, George."

George moans as his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me down with him as he lays back and thrusts his hips into mine. "God, I love you, too," he moans. "Such a good girl for me," he groans as his free hand lands on my ass with a hard smack.

I gasp and moan as the sting slowly melts into pleasure, and he does it again. "Yes, George," I pant as he thrusts up into me with a brutal pace.

George flips us, removing his cock from me and diving between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders, and he holds my hips down, and his tongue lands on my clit. "Fuck!" I cry out as my hands grip his hair. "George!"

George uses his fingers to hold my folds apart, opening me up more for him, lapping at my clit with his whole tongue, and shaking his head, threatening to send me right over the edge. My legs clamp around his face, and he moans right onto my clit, adding vibration to top everything else off. The overstimulation is too much, and my fingers tug at his hair, desperate to be free and also not wanting him to stop what he's doing.

"G-G-George!" I cry out with a whimper as my legs start to shake around his head. "Please!"

George grips my thighs from underneath and pushes them up to my chest. "Don't interrupt my meal," he warns me with a dark gaze. "Now keep those fucking legs up."

I hold the metal bedframe above my head with a white-knuckled grip, and George keeps my legs pushed up to my chest. "You wanna cum, angel?" George teases me as he flicks my clit with an annoying soft touch with his tongue.

"Yes, George, please," I beg helplessly as my back arches.

"Then do it. Cum on my face like the good girl you are for me," he taunts before his tongue laps at my clit again. His words and his tongue send me over the edge. My toes curl, and my back and neck arch so far I'm scared they'll break, but I can't bring myself to care if they do.

After George rides me through my orgasm, he leans over me, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts into me harshly. "Fuck!" I moan loudly as he leans down to nip at my neck.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside of you," he moans as he holds my thighs. "Think you can cum for me again, angel?"

I shake my head. "I- I can't," I moan pathetically, already feeling another one build. I grips his wrists as his hands hold my thighs up to my chest.

"Mm, I think you can," he teases. He knows I can. He does this every time. It's a game to us, I tell him I can't cum again, and he drags another one out of me. He punctuates with another hard thrust, and I swear I can feel him in my guts with the angle he's fucking me. "Hands on the bedframe," he demands.

I reach above my head, gripping the metal bedframe again. "Such a good girl for me," George moans as he pulls my legs up to rest on his shoulders and leans down, forcing me to take him deeper. "Want me to fill you up, angel?" He teases.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" I moan loudly as he fucks me hard.

"Beg for it," George says sternly, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace.

I whimper underneath him, keeping my hands above my head. "Please, Georgie. Please fill me with your cum," I beg pathetically, the way he can make me.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg," George moans as his thrusts quicken again, slamming into me harder.

The tether inside of me begins to fray, ready to snap once again. "George, I'm gonna cum again," I pant with a moan as my eyes roll back.

One of George's hands grips the back of my neck. "Me too, angel. Eyes up, baby," he demands as his thrusts begin to stagger.

My hands leave the bedframe, gripping his arms as he thrusts into me again, and our orgasms hit at the same time. The room a symphony of moans, pants, and a mix of each other's names. Once we ride out our highs, George lays down next to me on the bed, letting out a heavy breath as he pulls me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the last class of the day, and fuck whatever consequences that come from us not being careful as we snuck in here together.

And a big 'fuck you' to my parents if they have anything negative to say when they hear about my relationship. They can get fucked, because I know I will be.

[dreameroffandomsblog]

Title: In the Shadows of Silence

Summary:

Gotham is a city that demands its heroes' full attention. But what about those left behind? You are part of the Batfamily, but slowly you start to realize that your role seems smaller compared to the others. As time goes by, the loneliness grows, and you begin to wonder if you truly belong in this world.

---

The sound of typing echoed through the Batcave as you sat beside Tim, who was furiously typing away on his computer, searching for new leads on a recent case. You had been there for hours, watching the usual hustle of Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Damian as they came and went for patrols, without anyone really acknowledging your presence. The silence between you and Tim was heavy, but it wasn’t a comfortable silence. It was the kind where you felt like you didn’t exist.

“Tim, do you need any help with that?” you asked, trying to involve yourself in some way.

“Oh, no, I’m almost done. But thanks for asking,” he replied, not even glancing up from the screen.

That “almost done” was something you had been hearing for days. Since Bruce had taken you in, there was this hope that you would become a vital part of the Batfamily. But as the months passed, you began to realize that the dynamic was far different than what you had imagined. They were close-knit. They had their own routines, inside jokes, and ways of communicating that didn’t include you.

Dick, always the warmest, wasn’t around enough to notice your absence. Jason was always distant, and you didn’t have the kind of bond with him that the others seemed to have. Damian… well, he barely spoke to you, seeing you as an outsider who had intruded into his territory.

You stood up from the chair and left the cave. Upstairs, Wayne Manor felt even emptier and colder. Feeling the sting of silence, you climbed up to your room and collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Am I really part of this? Or am I just fooling myself?" You whispered to yourself. They were a family, but you were starting to wonder if you actually had a place here.

It was hard not to feel abandoned when the nights of patrol came and you were left behind. Bruce rarely called you out for missions. He said he was still "training" you, but you knew how to fight, knew how to defend yourself, knew the tactics of Gotham. Yet, you were always sidelined. The most painful part was that, when they returned, exhausted, they exchanged brief words among themselves and quickly dispersed without anyone truly stopping to ask how you were doing.

The clock read 3 a.m. when you heard footsteps in the hallway. Dick had returned, and you could hear the low murmurs between him and Alfred. “I think I’ll rest now, Alfred. Thanks for patching me up,” Dick said, likely referring to some superficial injury.

You wanted to go downstairs and try to connect with him, maybe talk about the night or at least feel seen. But the emotional exhaustion was too heavy. Instead, you closed your eyes, trying to push away the growing ache in your chest.

---

The next morning, you woke up to the sounds of training in the main hall. Bruce and Damian were sparring. Tim was, as always, absorbed in his gadgets, and Jason was likely somewhere in the city dealing with his own demons.

Taking a deep breath, you walked downstairs, and when you arrived, you saw Bruce and Damian fighting with an intensity that made you pause for a moment.

"You need to be quicker, Damian," Bruce corrected as he effortlessly dodged Damian's strikes.

Damian, of course, was trying to impress his father, but to no avail. They were so focused that they hadn’t noticed your arrival.

"Bruce," you tried to speak, but he was absorbed in the training. You tried again, stepping closer. "Bruce, can I train with you today?"

He finally paused and looked at you, but before he could respond, Damian had already shut down your chance to join.

"You're not ready for this. You’ll only get hurt," the boy said with a coldness that made him seem older than he really was.

Bruce hesitated, looking between you and Damian, before shaking his head. "Maybe it's better if you just observe for now. We still have some techniques to go over."

Those words hit you like a punch. It was as if your presence was an afterthought. No matter how hard you tried, you always seemed to be on the sidelines of something bigger than you.

Without saying anything, you turned and left the hall, the weight of neglect growing heavier inside you. Once again, you felt invisible. Just another shadow, standing on the edge of a family that never truly saw you.

---

To be continued...

[night-market-if]

Hi, I finished book two, chapter six today and wanted to send some appreciation for what incredible storytelling you've accomplished with this project. I've sent a couple of anon compliments before after finishing book one I think, but I don't know how to express how much I adore this story so I hope you don't mind my gushing in your inbox again. You've managed to create a world that feels expansive and beautiful and often dark but also KIND. I feel a lot of hope when I read your writing, something I've been in desperate need of a couple of times over the past few years, and every time I restart the game I find delightful, messy, wonderful characters there to welcome me home for a little while. Gabriel and Hazel are my ROs of choice and absolute favourites, but I've found spending more time with Milo and Mal in this book great fun and I'm planning to go back to explore their poly route. Bella and my OCs haven't had much chemistry, but all of them desperately want to be friends with her and sit reading books round the same fireplace, pretending that they're not trying to guess each others secrets. The option to have her style the MC for the ball is one of my favourite moments of book one. I love exploring the night market and finding something new every time. I love the humanity of your dialogue and the chance to play someone who can be stubborn and stick up for myself while never being cruel. I look forward to exploring what comes next and send infinite gratitude for what you've given us so far. When I find a new job, being able to subscribe to your patreon is high on my list. Until then I will be enjoying the games every time I need a little more hope <3

Thank you!

You've hit the characterization of the MC on the nose. I want MC to be strong. I want them to get to this point through their journey where they are confident of their own actions and decisions. But that does not mean you have to be cruel to achieve such things. You can be strong and independent without stepping on others to get there. I'm also a big proponent of not letting your trauma control you so I try to put that into the MC as well.

And a Hazelmancer!!! She is such an undervalued RO and I just love her storyline to pieces. It is such a relatable journey (minus the dark magic) and her story unfolding this book as been one of my favorites to discover.

Thank you so much for your words. I am excited to start crafting this story again. I hope you enjoy what is to come.

[cetoddle-archive]

the more i try to force myself to be positive and try and find things i like abt this job the more i miss my old job

[aurosoulart]

the GREAT PATREON SMUSH

I was going to make an advertisement for this with bright colors and maybe animated sparkles but 1) I hate making ads and 2) we are all so exhausted by bright ads vying for our brain chemicals that I just don’t want to do that to you anymore!!!! I’m TIRED of things grabbing for my attention in an unending assault on my senses and I’m sure you are too!!!!!!!

if you’ve been doom-scrolling and need a break (a nice beverage, a stretch of the legs, etc.), take this as a sign to do so now. if you’ve got the energy for a little reading, though, and want to learn about my work - keep going!

ANYWAYS I’ll get to the point: ALL of my patreon benefits are now available to the lowest ($3) tier.

in fact, there ARE no other tiers anymore. they’re gone! scrunched! smunshed! stirred up all together into one big super tier soup of everything I offer now and will offer in the future!

everyone now gets:

over 100 4k desktop wallpapers

early access/wips

25% discounts on prints

livestream voice chat

art votes & art suggestions

commission slots

and access to the Art Grotto discord, a friendly and chill server with a small community of creative folks. we share art, writing, pets, memes, and also come up with fun art ideas together! 🌈

why am I smushing the tiers and giving up the higher pledge amounts?!

because capitalism sucks, we’re in a recession, and I’m lucky enough to have a full-time job that allows me to make art without being reliant on Patreon income. anyone who has sat in on one of my livestreams knows that I try to be a calming force in an often-chaotic world, and that I’m always looking for ways to make art more accessible to everyone. I want my Patreon to be a place where I can give back to those who are supporting me in this mission!

this tier smush is just the start of how I hope to transform this space! I have a bunch of fun ideas about stuff I want to do in the future, so keep an eye out for more announcements like this 👁

that’s all!!!! thank you if you’ve read this far, and here’s the link to the Patreon if any of this interested you!

[girlthingdecay]

.