#love is stored at the way you can make your words rumble like a lion on the verge of roaring ig

[solivagantingrebel]

Something about the way König growls german that deeply messes my brain chemistry.

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

What if... the CEOs were Hybrids? part two | BTS OT7 au

This chapter was made possible by @oknymz / @shadowofahope 💜💜💜💜 five minutes to spare, I made the deadline 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽 11K words

Trigger warnings: swearing, possessive/obsessive behaviour, mentions of violence, alcohol, usual hybrid trope things

Prev / Next

Playlist : Dandelions - Ruth B, Can’t Help Falling in Love - Kina Grannis

Hybrids: KNJ - Wolf, KSJ - Bear, MYG - Panther, JHS - Lion, PJM - Arctic fox, KTH - Tiger, JJK - Bunny.

“They’re behind here I’m telling you,” Yoongi growls, staring a hole in the door to supply closet b, the only room that was locked.

They had been running around like fools in search of you, almost becoming feral with desperation.

Hoseok knocks on the door lightly, the taps not matching the fire in his eyes or the way his nostrils flared. It was faint, but your smell was here.

They hear the lock click, the door opening to reveal a smug sleepy Jungkook at the door, but that’s not what their gaze focuses on. There you are on the floor in Taehyung’s lap, sleeping in his arms. Jimin was asleep in hybrid form on your thigh, his little foxy face smushed against you. The tiger hybrid asleep with his back against the wall, holding on to you.

It’s a soft sight, it even melted their anger a smidge, having to force their jaws to remain clenched.

“Bunny was really tired,” Jungkook yawns. “She couldn’t sleep last night.”

“You three are dead,” Yoongi’s throat rumbles, his voice low not to reach your ears, but it reaches Jimin and Taehyung, their ears twitching to the sound, the threat rousing them from their slumber. 

Jungkook’s instincts want him to fight or flight, but he stands his ground.

“We kept her away from the other employees, and we kept her safe,” Jungkook bites back, doe eyes turning stern as he lectures his hyung, a predator hybrid. “We didn’t take advantage of her, what’s the problem?”

Hoseok scoffs in disbelief, his tail agitated behind him, he doesn’t miss the accusation in the bunny’s tone. They weren’t going to be disrespected for making what they thought was the best decision, even if what Jungkook was hinting at held any weight. 

“Ya locking her in a store room with three hormonal hybrids isn’t taking advantage of her?” Jin half whispers, half yells, eyes wide with exasperation, the sight would be hilarious under different circumstances. 

“It's better than locking her in an office with four feral predators,” Jungkook seethes, eyes narrowing. The hypocrisy was unreal, he could smell the lingering scent of their horniness, even though it was masked by the desperation and fear their mate had disappeared.  

“Ya Namjoon why aren't you saying any-” Jin’s voice gets caught in his throat as they all turn to the lead CEO. The wolf had his eyes dead set on the scene, his eyes blank of emotion, the sight has them all tensing, having seen this look before. 

“Namjoon,” Yoongi calls for him delicately, trying to reach into the hole of thoughts he knew the wolf was burying himself in and pull him out. 

Something snaps in him, his cheeks sucked in as a breath of angry air exhales from his nostrils. The tension can be felt heavily in the air, masked previously by their own emotions. Taehyung and Jimin, now fully awake by the sixth sense of an approaching storm, watch their alpha with fear creeping into their veins. The tiger holds you closer, ready to protect you from the oncoming danger, although in his sound mind he knows he’s going to be on the receiving end.

“Wake her up,” Namjoon’s voice is heavy, the command low and guttural, and each of their backs straighten to attention. “Seokjin hyung take her home, you three, in my office. Now.”

Any correction of ‘their’ office died in their throats as the wolf hybrid stormed away. They all release a breath they didn’t know they were holding, trying to downplay the goosebumps that made them shudder at the energy he left in his wake. 

“Like I said,” Yoongi gulped, recovering from the menacing aura, trying to return to his stern demeanour, “you three are dead.”

—

The three of them stood with their heads low in submission in front of Namjoon’s desk, his eyes boring into them with so much heat they could feel themselves start to sweat. Hoseok and Yoongi were listening from outside, not willing to admit they were too afraid to go in. 

“Did you tell her?” The deathly tone of his voice made them want to run, but they were frozen by the red eyes of their alpha.

“N-no we didn’t,” Jimin stuttered, knowing he needed to answer out of respect.

“She wondered why we were all scenting her, but she didn’t figure it out,” Jungkook explains, his little tail quivering behind him.

“Jungkook covered it,” Taehyung says, trying to placate the angry alpha.

“What did you tell her?” He stares down the bunny hybrid like the barrel of a gun ready to fire.

“I told her she was part of the pack,” Jungkook gulped. “Our hybrids recognised her as a packmate even though she’s human. That’s all.”

Namjoon nods, pacing behind his desk in thought. They were going to choke from the pheromones in the room. The wolf hybrid was emitting heavy miasmatic rage and the maknaes' knees were seconds away from giving out from the weight. 

“She fell asleep in our arms Hyung,” Jungkook admits quietly against his better judgement, knowing that the lead CEO was in no state of mind to listen to reason but he still had to try, “that means she trusts us, she feels something for us.”

“She's human!” He seethes back, making Taehyung jump, “it means she was tired.”

They can’t find their voices to argue, letting the room fall back to that poisonous state of silence as they awaited the Alpha’s punishment of choice.

“The three of you are suspended for a week.”

The shock hit them like a slap, they were expecting a bigger workload, something that meant they couldn’t see you as much, not this. Not being able to see you at all, for a whole week?

“Hyung-”

“Argue with me and I’ll make it two.”

His foot was down and not budging an inch, they could see it in the way his jaw was set. As much as they wanted to complain they swallowed it down, a week without you was torment enough, they wouldn’t be able to handle two.

—

The air in the car is stifling… Jin was oblivious to it, or so you thought but it was obvious with the way your entire body was running like you had a fever from the embarrassment of waking up to six of your bosses staring at you! While you were in the arms of one of them! You couldn’t control the impulse, you buried your head in your hands and groaned. There were ice caps in the arctic melting because of the heat from your cheeks alone! 

Jin tries not to, but he chuckles at your actions, trying to look nonchalant as he drives but you hear his little breaths of laughter, whining into your palms. 

“If I call in sick tomorrow will you cover for me?” You ask the bear hybrid, your hands coming away from your face as you stare at him seriously. He was already having such trouble stifling his laughter, but the look on your face as you tried to conspire with him made him burst. 

“Jin it's not funny,” you grumble, pouting over your predicament. 

“Honey you don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says fondly, smiling as he steers onto your road. 

Your stupid heart flutters at the term of endearment he introduced today, you couldn’t help thinking it sounded like you were a couple. As quickly as your heart swelled, it sank. You were just an employee, how many times did you have to tell yourself that?

You cough weakly into your hand, his eyes snap to you as if you’d grown a third head.

“Oh no,” you say dramatically, obviously faking, the back of your hand placed delicately to your forehead for good measure. “I must be coming down with something *cough* maybe I won’t be able to make it into work tomorrow.”

Jin sighs, for a second he believed you, the worry in his chest had his senses set to panic. You frown when he doesn’t smile at your joke, not a hint of it left from earlier, instead he's releasing a breath as if he had been holding onto it.

“Beautiful girl,” he sighs, his tone slightly berating you. “Don’t ever joke about things like that.”

After a day like today, with their mate smelling the way she did, the need to take you home, look after you, shower you with love, protect you from everything in their nest was overwhelming. Fear ran riot inside of them when you were ‘missing’, it was the worst prank those maknaes could play on them, and now a joke from your own lips about your health made his hybrid feel a sadness he couldn’t quite explain. It was mixed with the essence of failure, like if you got unwell, it would be his fault. 

“Jin?” You call him out of his thoughts, his eyes swim with so much emotion as he looks at you, really looks at you. Your frown melts into surprise, not expecting to be attacked with that expression on his face. “Umm… Thanks for the ride.”

You try to smile but it's a nervous sight, you know he can hear your heart pounding, and you needed to save yourself from some embarrassment today at least. 

“You really didn’t have to…” You open the car door, ready to make your escape. You wished you fought back harder, but he was adamant about dropping you home, the hell was he going to risk any hybrid on the streets smelling you. 

“See you tomorrow Y/n,” he says when you step out of the car. The corner of his lips turn upward in an attempt to return your smile, but it doesn’t reach the sorrow in his eyes. You normally hate when they refer to you by name, they only did so when others were around, or when you were in trouble, but this didn’t feel like that. He said your name with so much weight you couldn’t understand it, only staring at him again in shock. 

You recover a moment later, brows furrowing in thought as you close the door. He watches you enter your apartment building, leaning onto the passenger side of the car to watch the light come on in your complex. You were home, you were safe, he felt himself breathe a little in relief. 

You weren’t theirs. The thought had been repeating itself in his head since you called his name minutes ago. As much as they loved you, wanted you, the facts were irrefutable. You weren’t theirs. He sighs deeply before pulling away, a silent drive back to their mansion to dwell on his thoughts. 

—

There was a weight pulling you down in the office this morning. Your thoughts evidently elsewhere, that was clear to see on your face. Every few seconds you would catch yourself drifting before trying to shake yourself out of it, trying to focus on your work but you couldn’t. The guilt was eating you alive. 

“Kim depyunim looks as pissed today as he did yesterday,” you can hear one of your co-workers gossiping. 

“Wonder what's got him so stressed out?”

You could haphazard a guess. You fight down the groan that makes its way up your throat. Maybe he thinks you’re trying to seduce them, after yesterday's scene, you’re so sure you’ve disappointed him. He wasn’t there when you woke up, he must’ve walked off fuming at the sight of you cuddling up to his packmates. But then… Jungkook said they saw you as one of the pack so why… unless, you hadn’t been accepted by their alpha yet, and now you’re sure you won’t. You fucked up, you fucked up so bad by taking their friendship for granted, they were your employers, why did you forget that fact so easily?

“Earth to Y/n,” Yeri waves her hand in front of you face, the turtle hybrid had been talking to you for the last minute only to realise you had been spaced out.

“Huh- Oh sorry, what were you saying?” 

She frowns at you, handing you the file for today's meeting while wondering what was going on with you. The second the file is in your hands your heart sinks, you hadn’t forgotten about it, oh no, quite the opposite. The entire evening you were thinking about it, the fact you would have to face your bosses at this meeting after yesterday's events. 

It plagued you so bad it gave you nightmares, every hour you woke up after scenes of Namjoon yelling at you, or Yoongi refusing to speak to you. Hobi didn’t even look at you even though you begged him to with tears in your eyes. You know they were only dreams, they weren’t real, and yet they felt so believable that even now when you were awake you held some sorrow over them, as if they really did happen. 

“Are you okay running the meeting, you don’t look great…” she comments, braced for you to faint or something. 

Here it was, an opportunity for someone to take over, for you to run home and hide. But as much as you were terrified of their reaction to you, you worked so hard preparing for this meeting, your team was relying on you, and so were the CEOs. You had to deliver it, you had to show them you were worth working here. And plus, you fixed the problem anyway…

Yeri watches your face fall into a despondent state, were you okay? It was almost as if you were in mourning or something, and she felt too awkward to ask any further questions. What was wrong with you?

You only nod in reply, walking away from her in thought as you make your way to the meeting room. As always you were thirty minutes early, the room was empty as it normally was. You weren’t as efficient as you normally would be, your pace slow as you organised your material, set the room up to your liking. You didn’t even acknowledge when your colleagues made their way in and sat in their designated seats, but you felt it when they did. You back went up, a sixth sense you couldn’t explain when Namjoon stepped through the door, followed by 3 other CEOs. You didn’t make eye contact, you didn’t turn their way or greet them when your coworkers stood and bowed, you pretended as if you didn’t know they were here. But you knew they could hear your heart running like it needed to escape, your heavier breathing as you tried to calm down. 

Yoongi can smell the anxiety, your back was to them as you sorted out the computer and projector, but he could see how tense you were. He glances at their company founder, who almost glared at you before swallowing down whatever thoughts he was having, pretending you didn’t exist. Sometimes the other CEOs wanted to get a chisel and hammer, and crack open that skull and see what the hell was going on in that head of his. 

The lights dim before the presentation begins. You’re grateful for the darkness, thinking it would hide their faces from you, but when you turn around you realise it only enhances their intimidating demeanour. You felt like prey in the middle of a hunt, their eyes glistened in the low lights, and you knew they could see you better than you could them. The thought has a flood of vulnerability rush through your spine and chest, only increasing your growing anxiety like a tsunami. You take a deep breath before you begin. 

Hobi’s gaze doesn’t miss the way your hands were shaking as you grip onto your notes for the meeting, the way you cleared your throat before you spoke. Under normal circumstances your presentations were captivating, you held the room, but today you didn’t even smile. All he wanted to do was wrap you protectively in his arms, rewind to yesterday when you were enjoying each other's company.

He sighs, Jin and Yoongi glancing at him briefly inquisitively, but of course they knew the thoughts that plagued Hoseok’s mind. They knew the maknaes weren’t being malicious in their revenge plot, they would never have ill intentions towards your wellbeing. The hyungs knew the youngest three were making a valid point in their demonstration yesterday, but the problem was they never thought it through, they never thought of or understood the consequences, the fallout, the way the older CEOs did. They could already feel your distance as you questioned yesterday’s events, your little brain working on overdrive, analysing everything.

Part of the lion hybrid wished Namjoon didn’t ban the cubs from the building during their suspension, they were so much better at keeping you close. He’s so deep in his thoughts, so busy absentmindedly watching your every move that he misses most of the meeting agenda, looking blank when the lights turn on and everyone’s eyes turn to the CEOs in the room. Thankfully Namjoon takes over.

“Good presentation Miss L/n,” he doesn’t look your way when he speaks, and it cuts you, you hated empty praise, you hated it when he used your last name, even in front of everyone. “I want team B to follow up on revenue, team A can hand over the files.”

“Well done for laying down the foundation for this contract team A,” Yoongi agrees, his eyes on you only, the praise directed at you even he said it to your whole group. 

“Y/n you’ve got the best deal again,” Jin says fondly, smiling at you, hoping you’d return it. You bow politely at them instead as people gather their papers, ready to leave. The CEOs try to hang back, knowing you would clear your notes and linger behind to do so without distraction. Hoseok reads the material of what he missed, Yoongi pretends to small talk with Jin while they keep glancing your way. Namjoon answered questions from the floor managers, actually wanting to escape quickly but he was stuck listening to this imbecile. 

“Should we stay late tonight to go over the material for the handover?” Alex asks you with a grin. Four pairs of ears instinctively lock onto the conversation, even the wolf’s. 

“I can’t, sorry, I have a date,” you say bluntly, loud enough for them to hear, a tight lipped smile on your face. The hybrids reel back with shock, like you were intentionally trying to hurt them, but how could you? You didn’t know how they felt. 

The whole meeting you could feel their gazes on you, more than just listening to the meeting. Their eyes had been interrogating, or it felt like it at least, so you said it to quell any ill intentions they might think you have, that you were another one of those employees who were desperate to seduce them. The second the words were out you regretted everything; saying yes to that stupid blind date, coming to work at all, and everything that happened yesterday. 

“Excuse me,” you can’t even force a smile as you exit, your heart pounding in your chest when you feel their eyes pierce you, unable to handle it. 

—

“A date? A fucking date!” Yoongi uncharacteristically yells at the other three in the office, Hoseok and Jin leaning on the walls behind their respective desks, both appearing despondent staring at the floor, Namjoon pretending to read the files in front of him, ignoring them. “How can she go on a date when yesterday we-”

He sighs exasperated as his fingers comb through his hair in frustration, one hand on his hip as he shakes his head. Yoongi never raises his voice like this. He got angry yes, but his rage was always cool and calm, unless of course it regarded you. How could you flaunt this in front of them when yesterday you were bonding, scenting, SLEEPING with them? Why were humans so dense? He was so sure deep inside of himself you returned their feelings, but now, he was losing hope you did at all. 

“Namjoon stop pretending to read we can smell the burning pot you’re trying to put a lid on,” Seokjin reprimands him, trying to contain his own fury at the CEO, partly blaming him for your sudden interest in dating. In all the years they’ve known you, not once have you been with someone else, they would have smelt it on you if you had, so why now? Why were you pushing them away after yesterday? As much as they wanted to pry open Namjoon’s skull, he wanted to read your mind more.

“It's her choice to-”

“She doesn’t know we’re an option because you wouldn’t let us court her,” Yoongi spits, tail agitated behind him as his pupils almost turn into slits. 

The wolf hybrid has to force his jaw shut to not bear his teeth at his packmate's aggression, his eyes glinting red as they stare the panther hybrid down.

Hoseok scoffs at their behaviour, at the situation.

“Good thing the maknaes aren’t here,” he thinks out loud. They would have lost it, plotted some game or plan to stop you, but maybe that was what they needed. As diabolical as it sounded, every bone in his body wanted to stop you. “Should we tell them?”

“It’s none of their business,” Namjoon snaps, his nose flaring. “It’s none of our business, she’s our employee, she’s allowed to date whoever she wants. Her private life is just that, we don’t get involved.”

He stares each of them down, the pot reaching boiling point. Each of them deflate into submission, even Yoongi, his shoulders sinking, his gaze falling to the floor. Their alpha’s pheromones were strong in presenting his wrath, but it couldn’t hide the scent of misery and ache.  

Yoongi walks up to his desk, his head still bowed but the adrenaline in Namjoon’s system still had his back up as he watched the panther wearily. His best friend can barely look him in the eye, not out of respect for their pack leader, but because for the first time in his life, their alpha let them down. Namjoon swallows down his own sorrow, his own regret that’s caused this rift between them. 

“Our mate is going to let another man court her,” Yoongi explains solemnly so every word is heard and understood. “Another person is going to put their hands on her, we’re going to smell him on her. Why are you pretending that's okay?

You love her just as much as I do.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, storming out of the office before his rage built again and he ended up punching the wolf for his stubborn stupidity.

—

You could cancel, would that quell the growing anxiety inside of you? But the whole point of this date was to move on from this unrequited infatuation with them that was boarding on pathetic. You’re sure Namjoon’s caught on, why else would he look at you like that during the meeting? He must be so disgusted and disappointed in you. 

Jimin, Tae and Kookie would tell you what was going on inside their alpha’s head, they didn’t hide things from you, you could actually call them your friends. What if this whole situation took them away from you? What if Namjoon told them you were just like everyone else, trying to get close to them for an agenda. Is that why you hadn’t seen them yet?

As much as you told yourself you needed to create a professional distance and set boundaries before any misunderstandings could form, you couldn’t lie to yourself that you didn’t want anything to change, you didn’t want to lose them or what you had with them. Was that so selfish? You didn’t want to lose them, you didn’t want them to hate you, and you didn’t want to feel like this anymore. Like your love for them was wrong. 

The office was bustling around you and yet you were still, a mountain of work sat on your desk and you couldn’t even glance in its direction. You should’ve called in sick.

“Y/n!” Jackson calls for your attention, standing beside you, frowning at your despondency, almost the same look he saw on one of his bosses moments ago. The Golden retriever hybrid was the perfect secretary, unflinchingly loyal, and able to read every emotion cue before they even presented. Something was going on, and his instincts told him to stay out of it. 

“Hey,” you greet him, his presence jolting you into starting to go through the pile of work, even if it was just to look busy. 

“Min Depyunim needs you in his office ASAP,” he instructs. 

His frown deepens at the way your heart rate skyrocketed, the growing anxiety perspiring from your skin. 

“Did he say why?” you ask with a gulp, your eyes wide like a prey hybrid. 

“No, just that it was urgent.”

You only nod in reply, not trusting your voice as you leave your desk. Each step to that office would normally bring you a sense of comfort, anticipation in the best kind of way, but today your shoes were filled with lead. You hold an empty folder against your chest as if that would offer you any defence. 

The door opens before you knock, your fist in the air as you come face to face with Yoongi. The panther hybrid detests eye contact, it was more a sign of aggression in the hybrid world, but now his eyes were boring into yours, pleading you without words. Both your faces mirror a sense of sadness, your voices caught in your throats. His hand wraps around your wrist that was still caught midair, pulling you in when you made no move to. 

His office still had hints of yesterday, he locked it after you left, not wanting the cleaning crew to erase your scent or the evidence of your bonding session. The windows were closed, but the air in the room wasn’t stifling. Even though you were human, the room was calming your tense composure. That is, until your boss opens his mouth.

“I need you to stay late and help me with a new merger,” he announces, his stoic stare almost daring you to defy him, but behind that demeanour he was nervous. 

You stare back in shock, he knew you had a date. He heard you at that meeting, you're sure of it, so why? 

“Kitten?” he searches your face for a hint of something, anything. “It's an important deal, I need my best girl on it.”

You take a deep breath at the compliment, your heart fluttering against your wishes. Your skin flushes with heat, and you hope his hybrid senses can’t pick up the warmth you're suddenly emitting. Here it was… a way out, a way to just go back to how things were. You could say yes.

“I can’t,” you shake your head, looking away from his penetrating gaze before it coerced you into giving in. “I have plans, I’m sorry I can’t.”

“Cancel.” The word comes out like a command before he can correct himself. “Reschedule, this is important.”

The folder in your arms is squeezed closer against your chest, your eyes close, you almost look like you’re fighting with yourself. 

Give in Kitten, come on, did you really like this guy? Did you really not want him and the others? They were so sure, with the way you reciprocated their affection, that you felt the same. The idea that you didn't, sent a stabbing pain straight through his chest.

“I can’t, I’m really sorry,” you wish he knew how sorry you were, fighting to keep your eyes from watering. You didn’t want to go tonight, but you were forcing yourself to. 

“Why?” he fights the growl from his voice, his eyes piercing you. 

“I just can’t,” you hold back the sorrow in your tone, but he can still hear it, realising he was possibly putting you between a rock and a hard place. He tries not to scoff, tries not to take it further, but he can’t help himself, he was so pissed at this situation, the idea that someone else was getting to be with you in every way he wanted to be. 

“Miss L/n this deal is important-”

“You’ve said that,” you cut him off, arguing back. You hated when he called you that. Every time he was annoyed with you, every time you made a grievous mistake back when you both didn’t get along, he used your surname in that tone, and this time it irritated you. “But I’ve read my contract, I don’t have to say yes.”

He takes a deep breath, both your spiking distress starting to destroy the previous ambience of his office, and he didn’t want to lose it. He walks away from you, trying to cool down, only turning back when he reaches his desk, hoping the distance would give him a chance to breathe.

“Will there be repercussions Min Depyunim?” you ask, your eyes staring daggers into his softening features. He shakes his head, looking down at the ground between you, disgusted with himself. He was so desperate for you not to go, was he really going to force you to stay? 

You sigh, Min Yoongi doesn’t back down, not with you. He gave in to you when you needed him to, but he never backed down when you playfully bickered, and definitely not when you argued. 

“Yoongi are you okay?” Your glare dulls, the concern for him easing your temper. 

“The cubs explained that we all see you as part of the pack right?” His head is still angled to the floor but his hooded eyes look up at you.

You nod slowly, his words sinking into you slowly since they came from nowhere.

“You don’t smell like us today, it’s put us on edge,” he lies. “Can I scent you kitten?”

He could hear your heart pound against your ribcage, trying so desperately to run to where it belonged, in his arms, in his hold. You were their mate, your body knew it, why didn’t you?

You hesitate. Every single repercussion and consequence ran through your mind telling you to say no, but you didn’t care, not until a certain wolf hybrid’s glare entered your head. Yoongi can see your eyes glisten with wherever your thoughts were going, the way they were imploring him to pull you out of whatever melancholic place they were taking you. 

“Come here,” he orders, sitting on his desk with his legs open for you to stand in between. He doesn’t miss the shift in your eyes as they dilate at the preposition, the way your breathing gets heavier. 

Seriously, does he want to kill you? He wants you to stand there, he didn’t do it like that yesterday. His stare compels you to walk forward, your grip still digging into the folder in your arms, but when did you ever need a shield against Min Yoongi? As soon as you’re close enough he grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him. He smirks as you try to avoid eye contact, shuffling where you stood. He takes that damned file away from you, throwing it somewhere on his desk.

You feel vulnerable without it, yet there was something exhilarating about the position you’re in. Your scent changes, a ghost of yesterday’s intensity, but the subtle smell was enough to get his panther preening. His arms wrap around you, his face buried into the juncture of your neck. He rubs his nose against your skin, his ears perking at the way your breath hitches.

You jump when there’s a knock on the door before it opens, the panther possessively not letting you budge as you panic. He scowls at the door, ready to tear into Namjoon if he was interrupting again, not giving a shit as to what their alpha thought anymore. 

“Hyung- Oh,” Hoseok’s mouth forms a perfect circle in shock, his eyebrows rising at the sight and audacity of the older CEO. He locks the door when he walks through, his features composing as he smirks at Yoongi. There was no need for anyone else, or their pack leader to walk in on this. 

Your little fight against Yoongi’s hold ceases when you realise your efforts are futile, your head dropping to his shoulder in defeat, and with the way your skin was burning, embarrassment. 

“Kitten, are you hiding from Hobi?” He sniggers, unable to resist teasing you. It was odd, having this moment with you all while knowing you were going to be with someone else tonight. Bittersweet didn’t seem like the right word, it was crueler than that. His tail wraps around your thigh at the thought of having to let you go, he didn’t want to. 

You didn’t realise how touchstarved you were until you felt his soft fur on your skin, melting into his hold a little more. Maybe you really did need this date if the only place you were getting an inkling of physical attention was your seven bosses, perhaps that was what caused this dilemma in the first place, maybe you were just confused about your feelings because you hadn’t had any romantic interests since you started working here. Maybe it was just a stupid crush and you were overthinking everything. As much as you tried to convince yourself, you knew you were lying. 

Hoseok’s arms wrapping around you from behind underneath Yoongi’s pulls you out of your sinking thoughts. He nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head, scenting you to soothe that sour flavour seeping from you. When your aroma settles back to its natural sweetness he’s satisfied with his work, resting his chin on the other side of your head on your shoulder. 

“Sunshine, why are you being shy?” he whispers into your ear like he’s sharing a secret, chuckling when you bury yourself further into the panther hybrid. There’s an amused breath of laughter from the CEO you were trying to cocoon yourself in, but his heart swells at the fact you were seeking comfort in him. 

“Hmmmm,” he pretends to pout, pressing his lips against the sliver of skin showing on the juncture of your shoulder and neck. “Should I leave sunshine?”

You shake your head against Yoongi, one of the hands that was gripping onto his shirt, coming away to hold onto the sleeve of the lion hybrid behind you before he had the chance to pull away. He smiles fondly at the action even if you weren’t coming out to play. He kisses the back of your head quickly, using your current state to his advantage. He feels you stiffen slightly before you relax again, your heart is hammering so hard he can feel it through your back. His eyes glance at Yoongi, a silent communication shared between them both, the same thought echoing through their minds. It might have been wrong, it might cross every boundary Namjoon told them to avoid, but they would scent you so intensely that if you were with a hybrid tonight they would suffocate on the stench. They would cover every available inch of you in their smell that every hybrid would know you were accounted for. They didn’t even want to think about what they would do if the stupid person you were seeing was human. 

Hobi rests his forehead against the back of your head, wishing he could just read your thoughts. Why were you doing this to them? His embrace tightens, his sunny disposition clouding. He didn’t think he could handle it, if you came into work smelling of someone else. Something sharp grips his chest, like a thousand thorns piercing into the flesh, trying to claw its way into his heart. He wants to beg you not to do this, but the words get caught in his throat. 

He closes his eyes, sniffing your hair subtly before it would become tainted by someone else, trying to lock it into his memory as if this was the last time he’d see you. He was usually so content in your presence, always eased and comforted by just your smile or laugh. But now he was fighting back tears, feeling like you had slipped out of reach even though you were here in his arms. He feels another hand on his other arm, recognising Yoongi’s touch. The lion hybrid was pouring out a damp essence with his sorrow, unbeknownst to you, but the older CEO could sense it. Maybe a part of you could too, your thumb starting to stroke his arm soothingly making him ache.

Why didn’t you want them the way they wanted you?  

—

Day one of not being able to see you and they were already a mess. Three Hybrids laid in Jungkook’s room, staring at the ceiling wondering where it all went wrong. The bunny hybrid took the bed, Taehyung was on the floor, the oldest maknae on the bean bag. They were in here all day, feeling lost without work, well not work, without you. They didn’t realise how much they looked forward to their day because of you until Namjoon took it away from them. 

“This week is going to be torture if all we do is contemplate our life choices,” Jungkook states blankly, his stare still on the ceiling. 

“It’s already torture,” Taehyung huffs, clutching onto the pillow he stole from the bed earlier. “Did you hear him last night tell Hyung he had plans for us when we got back.”

He shudders, his chin digging into the soft material in his hands for comfort. He may have been a tiger but their alpha could instil fear in anyone, regardless of rank or breed. 

“What plans?” Jimin asks, his head rising to look at his best friend on the floor. 

“He’s going to make us work on another floor,” Taehyung replies sadly, his whole face falling from despondency to complete heart break.

Jimin groans, pushing his hair back in frustration as his head hits the beanbag again.

“He can’t do that,” Jungkook says quietly, terrified at the prospect that the one thing that keeps him sane at that dreaded building was going to be kept away from him.

“He can,” Jimin spits before whining, “this is so unfair, he’s overreacting and he knows it.”

“I’ve never seen him so mad at us before,” Taehyung sniffs. 

Jimin sighs, not wanting to add to the melancholy infecting the tiger hybrid.

“Maybe he’ll come to his senses before we’re back at work,” he tries to sound hopeful, but it fools no one. 

“Even if he does, we still have a week of suspension,” Jungkook scoffs. “He won’t back down on that just to prove a point.”

They sit in silence, stuck in this purgatory without you. 

“Right!” Jimin sits up with a clap, looking at the other maknaes with an expression that could only be described as displeased. “We can sit here all week, or we can distract ourselves.”

“How?” Taehyung asks with a pout.

“Treat it like a holiday,” Jimin suggests. “Let’s go out before the hyungs come home.” 

Jungkook sighs, it wasn’t a bad idea, but it would have been better if you were part of the equation. 

“Where do we go?” he tries to give into the proposition but he wasn’t feeling it.

“I don’t want to get hit on,” Taehyung announces, the insinuation in his voice clear, that meant nothing too public, or anything too high end.

“We’ll clear out the VIP lounge at our club,” Jimin shrugs.

“Which one?” 

Their company owned a few but they were more personal entrepreneurial revenues, Hobi, Yoongi and Namjoon owned Cypher, a more underground clubbing scene. Hoseok owned another with Jin and Jungkook called Jamais Vu, while Jimin shared Dionysus with the panther and their alpha. 

“What difference is sitting in a club going to make when we can sit here?” Jungkook grumbles. “What's the point?”

“We have a week of hell Jungkookie,” Jimin stands, walking over to the bunny hybrid pushing him to get up. “Let's try to survive it.”

“I don’t want to go clubbing, I don’t feel like dancing,” Taehyung mopes.

“Aish you both are killing me,” Jimin complains, still trying to budge the maknae into moving. “What about your bar Tae?”

He contemplates it, eyes looking up as he thinks it through. Scenery was normally quiet, only bringing in the older generation since it was a jazz bar as unique as the tiger hybrid himself. The others didn’t think it would do as well as it had but some people wanted the gentle calm compared to the rioting lights and loud music. It was huge so even if it were a busy night it never felt like it. 

“Yeah Jungkook let’s go,” he agrees after deeming the suggestion acceptable.

The youngest groans, his arms covering his eyes in protest, pretending to sleep.

“Jungkook, do you really want to stay here and hear the hyung’s gloat about their day with Y/n?” Jimin sounds solemn, making the bunny peer at him. 

No, he didn’t want that at all. 

—

“Explain to me how this is different to staying home?” His nose twitches cutely, watching Taehyung’s regular patrons enjoying their evening, not missing the way most of them were couples. Jimin can’t help laughing at the pout and grumpy eyes the bunny was adorning, 

“This place has alcohol,” Jimin giggles, already on his third drink. 

“We have alcohol at home,” Jungkook mumbles back, leaning back in their booth near the back of the establishment while Jimin signalled to the bartender for a top up.

“So much for not dancing,” Jimin chuckles at the sight of the tiger hybrid dancing on his own, perfectly content surrounded by the couples, not a care in the world. He catches them watching, giving them both a shy smirk, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he grinned. 

“We should invite Flower here,” Taehyung says a little breathlessly as he slides into the booth next to Jimin, seemingly having had enough of the dancing. 

“You know hyung banished us from the office,” Jimin thought out loud, “he didn’t say anything about contacting Angel out of hours.”

Jungkook snorts at the logic.

“I think it was insinuated,” he rolls his eyes, the pair of them instigating an argument about the topic while Taehyung watches chuckling. 

“What hyung doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Jimin shrugs.

“How many times have you said that-”

But the tiger hybrid doesn’t hear the next words, his face turns blank as his senses tune into the sound of the door opening, the little bell ringing. He doesn’t understand why he can suddenly feel his heartbeat harder in anticipation, his sixth sense taking over control of his body. There’s a gust of wind, a gentle breeze he can feel through the open door, and with it a familiar scent.

“How many times do you drag us into trouble?” Jungkook was still squabbling with the arctic fox, the pair of them unaware of their friend’s wavering attention. 

“Taehyung tell this kit-”

They both turn to the tiger hybrid, taken back by his look of shock until they follow his line of sight. Their hearts stopped, taking all the life out of them in a single gasp. Was that really you or was it a mirage from their abstinence? Jimin and Jungkook are about to smile until they notice what Taehyung already had. You were sitting at the bar in front of them, seemingly alone until they saw the man you were with bring back two glasses. The smile you give him has them sobering.

Taehyung growls so deep that anyone would think he was in his tiger form, his eyes glow with a tint, penetrating that spot the bastard had his hand on your back. Jimin and Jungkook fare no better, a solemn fury burning through their sudden glares, and you must’ve felt the heat because you turn like they called your name, your gaze meeting theirs.

You turn away quickly, feeling like you got caught cheating which was absolutely ridiculous. You shouldn’t be feeling guilty, so why was it eating you alive? You tried to smile at your date as he leaned in to ask if you were okay.

Jimin scoffs at the sight, a humourless breath of laughter escaping as he shakes his head, who the hell did this idiot think he was? Why were you with him?

“Are they friends…?” Jungkook tries to keep the venom out of his voice, tries to dispute the idea you were out romantically with this asshole.

“If it was friendship they’d be out in a group,” Jimin comments. “Look at their body language, his especially, my little vixen is out on a date.”

The possessive lilt in his tone is intense, his glare burning your back. There’s a rumble from Taehyung’s chest at his words, the tiger’s tail whipping so hard you could hear it slice the air.

What the actual hell? Of all the places to see the CEOs, of all the nights, why this one? Why here? Your heart was thundering in nerves, you tried so hard to swallow but your throat had run dry, and your hands were shaking so bad you didn’t think you could pick up your glass.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Eric asks you for the second time, your date so far had been fine, but even though it had only really just started you were so ready for it to end. He seemed like a lovely guy, not too eager, a little bit goofy and funny in a way that wasn’t his whole personality. But the second you met him, you saw all the ways he wasn’t them, and you realised that wasn’t fair on him. 

You were trying, really truly trying to give this a chance, but those three intense stares you could feel on the back of your head reminded you of all the reasons why you didn’t want to. 

You didn’t need this. The whole point of tonight was to build boundaries and distances, how were you supposed to do that when they were here.

“This place is something else,” he says trying to make conversation, looking around at the decor and beige tones. You couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. “So why did you want to come here?”

“Umm, I don’t know,” you admit. “There’s just something about this place that seems familiar and comforting, you know?”

Oh the irony of your words. You needed familiarity and comfort around you when you were stepping out of your comfort zone, but the three hybrids behind you had destroyed that plan. 

Eric smiles at you in a way that lets you know he didn’t get it, it makes you laugh at the foolishness of your words. At least he laughed with you, the atmosphere only lightening a smidge. 

“For a place that you like, you haven’t touched your drink,” he notes, looking at both your pints, yours was full, his halfway through. Fuck it, you needed something to take the edge off. His jaw drops in surprise as you down the whole thing, the glass coming down empty onto the bartop. “It wasn’t a challenge.”

You catch the amusement in his eyes, rolling yours jokingly with a smile. You could do this, you could totally handle being out on a date with the three of seven of the loves of your life watching you. You hiccup, did you really just think that? You were meant to think ‘three of seven of your bosses watching you’, you didn’t mean what you thought before. Shit, maybe you drank that a bit too quickly. 

“Top up?” he asks, picking up your glass as he finishes his own, walking away to the busy barkeep when you nod. You didn’t want another drink, but you needed to breathe. For a second you forget something glaringly obvious, until three bodies join you where you’re sitting. You blink repeatedly at the stern expression of the arctic fox hybrid next to you, wondering if he were really there. The scene resembles something familiar to you, a mirror of how they would join you at your desk at work, but his eyes spell trouble in a way you don’t think you’re used to. 

“Did you miss us, my little vixen?” Jimin asks, his voice low, the smirk on his face dangerous.

“Huh?” You only gawp at the question, your mind drawing blanks and failing to comprehend his words at all with his body so close to yours. 

You hear a scoff on your otherside, turning to relieve yourself of the oldest maknae, only to meet the possessive anger in Jungkook’s gaze, Taehyung next to him, leaning on the bar, ignoring you. 

“She didn’t even notice we were gone,” Jungkook comments, his tongue pushing hard against his cheek in frustration, believing his own words. “One day with the hyungs and she forgets all about us.”

He sniffs the air, not missing the way your skin was drenched in Yoongi’s and Hobi’s scent. Well your date was definitely not a hybrid, any right minded one would sense the obvious courting markers and run a mile, especially when it was a couple of predators that had done the scenting.

“The hyungs obviously haven’t done a good job keeping you company angel,” Jimin says, glaring at the advancing human walking their way. He puts on his best fake smile, ready to lull his new prey into a false sense of security before he takes you away.

“Y/n?” Eric looks at the men that joined you, frowning in question.

“E-Eric, umm these are my bosses from work,” you try to keep your features calm, but nothing would hide the alarm in your eyes. There's a low growl next to you at your statement, Jimin’s disapproving stare berating you more than his words could.

“Oh,” he says nodding, trying to understand the situation because something didn’t feel right. “What a small world…”

Jungkook scoffs again, what an idiot? Why were you here with an idiot?

“I hope we aren’t interrupting,” Jimin continues, that faux innocence in his voice not matching the devilish smirk on his face. “But the more company the better right?”

Eric now realises what was wrong with the scene in front of him, you were here on a date with him, but with the way the hybrids were surrounding you, he was nowhere near you. He was on the outside looking in, like the three men were purposefully keeping him at a distance, away from you. He awkwardly places the pint as close to you as he could… or as close as they would allow. 

“Taehyung actually owns this bar,” Jimin gestures to the silent tiger before taking a sip of his drink. “What are the chances we’d run into you here?”

You can’t think of anything to say, your mouth kept opening and closing intermittently, you couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, especially not your date’s. All the times you wished the ground would just swallow you up to escape, this was the hardest you prayed for it. Your hands fidget on the bar, fingers playing with each other, the uncomfortable air stifling. A large palm covers your own to quell the growing anxiety he could smell, your eyes pulled towards the culprit. Taehyung hadn’t said a word since they saw you, but his hand engulfed both of yours, unable to stand his mate in distress even if there was a volcano in the pit of his stomach ready to blow. He still doesn’t look at you, stoically staring ahead at nothing even with your eyes on him.

Eric’s frown turns comical at how intently he stares at your connected hands, adding numbers together but not yet reaching a conclusion despite how obvious the answer was. He tries to side step closer to you but the way the rabbit hybrid was standing behind you, curving his body to your right side, there was no way he could close the distance. 

“Y/n do you want to dance?” he asks instead, if he couldn’t come in, he would pull you out instead. Did your bosses not realise you were on a date? Should he make it obvious you were to avoid any awkwardness?

Their backs stiffen, the palm covering your hands tighten their hold almost in warning if not desperation to stop you. Jungkook grunts in anger, the sound falling deaf on the human’s ears but not yours.

Cat got your tongue Kitten, dammit why could you hear Yoongi’s smug voice in your head now of all times. Y/n say something, you beg yourself. You don’t miss the sound of two tails sweeping through the air in agitation, trying to work out why they were behaving like this, until it clicked. 

If they thought you were part of the pack, then it was only reasonable to assume they’d be protective over anyone approaching you. You’d seen it before amongst themselves, the way they’d act if someone tried to hit on one of them. That must be it. 

“You go ahead,” you finally say with a tightlipped smile. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Although confused, your date decides to do as he’s told. You could feel the tension in their shoulders relieve with each step he took away from you.

“Are you guys okay?” you ask, they weren’t at work today and now you’re sure their moods were bitter bordering on bursting, something must have happened. They look at you in disbelief, Jimin laughs humorlessly shaking his head at how oblivious you could really really be sometimes. What excuse did your human brain come up with now? He had to know. How did you see all the signs they were giving you and translate them into something so ridiculous?

“Are you on a date?” Jungkook asks venomously, eyes holding yours so piercingly you have to remind yourself he wasn’t a snake hybrid. 

“I-I am,” you try to sound confident. “Look, thank you for watching out for me, but Eric is fine.”

You try to smile, you really did, but you don’t know who you were trying to convince. 

How could you not hear their hearts shattering? Of course they knew, but until it was out of your mouth it wasn’t solidified, it couldn’t be true. There’s a small whimper expressed from the maknae that he couldn’t control. 

“And I should probably be getting back to it,” you sigh, standing up from the barstool, trying to ignore the way they were all holding onto you in some way. Jungkook’s hands ghosted over your arms, wanting to pull you back in your seat but he’s resisting the urge as much as it killed him. Taehyung’s hand lingers on yours for as long as he could before they’re gone. Even the back of Jimin’s forefinger was tracing your arm lightly as you stood, the anguish on all of their faces apparent. How could you be here with someone else when yesterday…

Yesterday you were in their arms, all afternoon. They scented you, they courted you, they looked after you. And you returned it all. How did that mean nothing to you? Were humans really that callous or so indifferent? Not you, they couldn’t believe you were that way, but the evidence staring at them as you started to walk away.

Taehyung can’t stand it, his teeth grinding hard as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you next to him, startling you with the sudden way your body jerked to his command. 

“Tae-”

The low ferocious rumble from his chest silences you. His eyes avoided you the whole time he came to stand beside you and now they burned into yours, an unforgiving fire making them glow. Taehyung sits on the barstool next to yours, spreading his legs as he places you between them. The position is familiar, you were in a similar one earlier with the panther hybrid, but the glint in his eyes has it feeling so different. Your breathing turns so heavy you’re almost panting, his face so close to yours, all your senses are engulfed in him. Your pulse was so fast you could convince them you were a little hummingbird hybrid about to get caught in the tiger’s teeth. 

“Taehyung,” you breathe, unable to look away from him, his grip was still like iron around your wrist, his tail wrapping around your middle. It was suddenly so hot, you felt like you were on fire, and all you wanted to do was smother his lips with yours.

You’re grateful for a second that he looks away, giving you a chance to catch your breath, and resist the pull of his stare. The feeling doesn’t last long as you realise his gaze has travelled down to your attire, the disapproving hum vibrating from his throat. You chose to wear this enchanting dress for someone that wasn’t them, you consciously went through your wardrobe and chose something so flattering for a man that you barely knew. His eyes snap back to yours, the flames reigniting in them with more lethal intensity. You gulp, just to soothe your drying throat. 

“Y/n?” 

Neither of you flinch at the sound of your concerned date, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

“Are you okay?” he says more urgently. “Hey I don’t think she wants you to hold-”

He makes the grievous mistake of trying to pry Taehyung’s grip away, the tiger turning his carnal fury on the stupid human. But before he can unleash his roar, you pull him back, fingers on his chin turning his face back to you. 

“Eric I’m really really sorry,” you apologise and meaning it. “I’m part of their pack, you’re a stranger so they’re not familiar with your scent.”

You turn to the human as you explain, as much as Taehyung would let you.

“It agitates them, because they don’t know your intentions,” you sound logical, convincing, of course you do, you believe the nonsense you’re spouting. 

Jimin said he wanted to hear the excuse you were making in that brain of yours, and here it was. If anything it aggravates them more, not just at your imperception but the fact all of this could have been avoided if Namjoon just let them confess.

“Does that make sense?” You ask, cringing at the awkwardness.  

“Yeah that does,” he sighs, glancing at the hybrids that look ready to pounce and tear him to shreds. “Don’t worry about it, we can reschedule for another time.”

You smile gratefully at him, thankful he wasn’t screaming insults at you and making you feel like shit. 

“Over my dead body,” Jungkook huffs under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

“Thanks Eric,” you ignore the bunny’s outburst, “I’ll see you soon.”

At those words Taehyung’s tail wraps tighter around your waist, the movement not missed by the human.

With a wave he’s gone, and they finally feel like they can breathe. 

“You guys are seriously too much,” you sigh, skin still tingling from the sensation of the tiger hybrid’s touch. “He wasn’t going to kill me.”

Jimin can’t stop the higher pitched growl leaving his lips.

“You don’t know that,” he scoffs.

Their clouded heads were clearing, slowly realising the events of what just happened even though they just lived them. This was bad, their judgement was so dictated by their jealousy and possessiveness it was bordering on dangerous. 

“I think I need to go home,” you announce in a quiet voice, your own train of thoughts already taking you away from them.

“We’ll take you,” Jungkook offers, ready to rectify his mistakes.

“No I think you guys have done enough,” you frown at the floor, your harsh words hitting them with shame and heartache. 

Jungkook blinks back sudden tears, unable to handle your rejection, even if he deserved it. 

“Angel-”

“I really don’t want to hear it tonight, please,” your eyes close, fighting back your own watering eyes, swallowing down the hurt. 

How could they do this to you? How could they not realise how you felt and not let you take this way out of it? They didn’t want you, they didn’t love you back, they weren’t allowed to behave like this and confuse you. You pull Taehyung’s clutch away from your wrist with your other hand, his tail falling limply at the grief sinking his whole soul. 

You don’t say a word as you walk away, leaving three hybrids too stunned to speak. 

—

Did you understand the nightmares that haunted Namjoon at night? The images of you accusing them of heinous hideous things that in the moment he believes with his whole heart. That look of hatred on your face that burns into his brain. Every time he woke up the hurt lingered into the day.

It’s a stupid defence mechanism he knows, the way he’s been behaving recently. His wolf side is angry and pissed with his human parts and the hybrid is taking it out on everyone around him, even you, even if you both hadn’t spoken since the day before yesterday.

The worst part of it was, he was holding you at a distance, his usual cure for his downcast thoughts. You were the one to pull him out when he buried himself in his overthinking and his insecurities. You always dug him out, and this time you didn’t, and he wouldn’t let you close enough to. This time you left him under the weight of his own misery and walked away with another man. His jaw clenches unconsciously, his bite so tense his teeth would break under the force.

This just proved everything he had been saying was right. You didn’t want them. They were helplessly and hopelessly in love with you to the point where they recognised you as their mate, and you didn’t return the feeling. As much as Yoongi argued that you were human so therefore you were dense to their affection, Namjoon couldn’t agree. How could you not see it when they behaved the way they did with you, only you. When else had he found his employee in the arms of his packmate asleep? When else would he allow someone outside of his pack to get as close to him as you did?

And to top it all off, every member of his pack started courting you for real the day you smelled the way you did. They were oblivious to it, or denying it themselves, but something inside of them clicked that day, and Namjoon could see the consequences in their behaviour even if they couldn’t. Why didn’t they understand it was futile, they were going to get their hearts torn out because of a human girl. Before their affection and gestures were always poised as a question, an indirect way of asking if you were interested in them. But now the boundaries were gone, they recognised you as their mate completely whether you were or not, this was everything he was trying to prevent. It was one thing to think it, now their more animalistic sides would accept nothing less but your hand in theirs. 

His tormenting thoughts come to an abrupt stop as do his steps. He was walking past the empty meeting room, on his way back to the office when he heard it. He should walk away, but he can’t bring himself to. There was no way he should know that was you, but he did. His fingers close around the handle, his thoughts in overdrive, fighting with himself about what to do. 

His instincts take over when he hears the sob, opening the door in a flash to the sound, staring incredulously at the sight of your tear stained face. You struggle to stop crying, choking on your tears as you try to control them, turning away from him. Your hand covers your mouth as you whimper, unable to hold back now the floodgates opened. You hear the door slam shut thinking he had left until you hear the lock. 

“Babygirl-”

“Namjoon I-I’m fine,” you hold your tears back long enough to say it as firmly as you could, your face scrunching as the downpour continues. 

He can see your shoulders trembling, he can hear the pain in your voice. It killed him.

Someone hurt his mate, as much as he tried to stop the thought it echoed in his head loudly. His mate was hurt, his mate was crying. He was caught between wanting to tear someone’s throat apart for putting you in this state and the urge to comfort you in his arms. It physically pains him not to step towards you, to not give in to all the cells in his body that screamed at him to go to you.

He couldn’t be a hypocrite, he has repeated to the others so many times, you weren’t theirs. How many times did he preach not to cross the line? How many times did he break his own rules?

“Y/n, as your employer, as your friend,” he says as calmly as he can, “tell me what’s wrong.”

If there was ever a wrong button to press, Namjoon could find it. You let out an unbearable whine, drowning out your loud cries in both your hands. 

He takes a deep pained breath, his eyes closing as he fights so hard with himself, the wrinkles between his brows deep as caverns. He couldn’t, not after everything he said to the others, he couldn’t…

Fuck it.

His long strides close the distance quickly, his arms turning you to face him as he buries you into the safety of his chest. His arm traps you in his hold when you try to push him away, one hand in your hair trying to soothe you.

“Shhh babygirl it's fine,” his chin sits on the top of your head, his palm alternating between patting your head affectionately and stroking the strands. He’s never seen you like this, or heard just an anguished cry in his life. “I’m so sorry…”

He felt compelled to say it, hating himself for everything. 

He lets you bawl your eyes out against him, holding you firmly through every violent tremble that shakes your body. His tail wraps behind you like a second arm would in a hug, his ears twitching to every sound you make. You clutch onto his shirt like a lifeline, unable to tell him he and the others were the reason for your tears. 

It came out of nowhere, but repressed emotions have a way of finding an out. You barely made it to the empty meeting room before the tears started dropping, and you couldn’t stop. Everything that was happening between you and them overwhelmed you, you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted to bang your fist against his chest and demand they understood what they were doing to you. You wanted to confess everything, let the dice fall wherever they had to, but you could barely breathe, how could you find your voice?

This needed to end before it destroyed you.

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

Taglist : @nlost21 @pb-n-juju @needyomnivore @lvpersona @marvelfamily3000 @love2lovesworld @halesandy @dreamamubarak @deepseavibez @mikymouse0729 @barnesrogerslover @itismochirice @agustverse @whtamidoingagain @missmoxxiesworld @itsjustwinter @midiplier @toriluvsfics @sweetestofchaos

[chibinekochan]

😭 all I can think of for the twins birthday is the cake. Maybe the kinds of cake you think they’d eat?

Lol, the true glutton choice — I mean it's right on the mark.

Now I'm hungry. T-T

I just made a little baking cake scenario, where you bake a cake with one twin for the other twin.

Both of these are like 1k words

Belphie

He comes to you with his request. 

"Look, I want to bake a nine-tier cake for Beel. Last year we all baked him a small one, but it just wasn't enough to feed him at all. So this year I want to make sure that he gets enough cake to be full." 

"Nine tiers? That's a lot. Will that even be possible?" You can't imagine it. 

"Normally it wouldn't, but I have some special powder that will make it possible. It will cause the cake to be super light." Belphie then shows you a couple of cupcakes. He lets them go, and they float in the air. "See, I made these to make sure it will work."

"Wow, that's pretty cool. But wouldn't it be easier to just bake nine cakes and why nine tiers anyway?" You are impressed but still wonder why the extra effort.

"Maybe, but that's how we do it every year. I want something special for him this year and the number is just for every person that means so much to us." Belphie is steadfast in his decision. 

"Did you include me on that list?" That is the only way the math adds up. 

Belphie grins. "Yes, of course. So will you help me?" 

"I will help you. I want to see Beel’s smile too." Naturally, you agree. 

Belphie is honestly relieved. 

It's a challenge to put it lightly. The sheer amount of ingredients makes you dizzy. 

Your whole body hurts after mixing everything together. 

Belphie is very determined, you rarely see him like this. 

He doesn't even seem to be tired at all. 

Baking the cake is another big challenge. 

You use the kitchen in the castle since the oven is bigger.  

Both of you are kinda bored watching the oven. 

"You are covered in flour." Belphie chuckles. 

"Haha yeah, so are you." You shake the flour off your clothes and laugh.

Belphie cleans himself up. "You forgot some." Belphie pats your shoulder and then wipes your face. His hand lingers longer on your face than it needs to be. 

You blush. 

"Belphie, do I really have flour there?" You are pretty sure that it must be all gone now. 

Belphie smiles at you in a devious way. "Probably not." Then he pokes your nose and giggles. 

You puff your cheeks. He always does things like this to you. "You got some flour left too." With that, you ruffle his hair. 

Belphie huffs. "If you play dirty like that I will get you back." With that, Belphie starts to tickle you. 

"Ahh, so unfair." You playfully protest. "I will get you back for that one!" You start to attack his side. 

What causes Belphie to laugh uncontrollably. "Stop, stop, I admit defeat."

"Alright, I hope you learned your lesson." You grin at him victoriously. 

Belphie holds his hand up in the air. "I will not mess with the new tickle champ anymore. How about a victory kiss?" He smiles at you. 

You shake your head and are about to give in when the timer rings. 

Belphie groans. "Talk about bad timing."

You giggle and help to pull the cake out. 

Then you layer everything and cover the whole cake. 

It's a very impressive sight. 

"So, now we just have to bring it to the room where the food for the party is stored." It will still be a challenge, that much is certain. 

"Don't worry Barbatos said we can leave it here, and he will bring it to the party." Belphie is glad that he already took care of it. 

"Great, so that means we are done?" You feel a sense of relief. 

"Well, yeah except for one thing." Belphie smiles at you. 

"And that is?" You wonder what you have forgotten. 

"Close your eyes," Belphie smirks at you. You know what that means. So you play along. "Alright." You close your eyes. 

Anticipating what will come next. 

You can feel his breath on your face.

Then he gives you a very soft kiss. "Thank you for your help today."

Your eyes flutter open, and you see Belphie with slightly red cheeks. 

"No problem." You barely manage to say this much. 

Then you get interrupted by Barbatos and just go back to your room. 

Finally, the day of the party arrives. 

You barely can wait for Beel’s reaction.

The cake is massive. It's the biggest thing you have ever seen. 

When Beel sees it he is so happy. He barely stops himself from jumping into it. 

The hugs both you and Belphie with a bear hug. "Thank you so much you two! This is the best present."

"No problem Beel." You only manage to say this much. 

"As long as you like it I'm happy." Belphie is very pleased with this reaction. 

It was all worth it.

  Beel

He comes to you with a big request. 

"I really need your help with baking a cake for Belphie." 

"Sure, what can I help you with?" You have a feeling why he might need help. 

"Well, first of all, I want to make sure that I don't eat all the ingredients. I bought more than enough but I can't mess it up. I also need some help with the decoration." Beel looks like a distraught puppy. 

"I can help you with that no problem." You know how hard this is for Beel. So you gladly offer your support. 

"Thank you so much! I will pay you back for sure." Beel lights up, it seems like a big stone fell off his heart. 

"There is no need for that. I enjoy baking and I love spending time with you." It's a great way to spend time together in your opinion. 

"Great, then let's do this!" Beel is pumped. 

You both go to the kitchen. 

You can see that Beel bought at least 10 times the amount of ingredients. 

"Alright, I will manage the ingredients and you will do the mixing." This is the best plan in my opinion. 

Beel agrees with a nod. "Sounds good."

You carefully measure everything and Beel really fights against his urge to eat everything. 

It's a struggle for Beel. 

"Here have this." You hand him an xxxxxl chocolate bar. 

"Thanks, you are a lifesaver." Beel gratefully eats it. This seems to help Beel a lot. 

"No problem. That's why I'm your baking assistant after all." You smile at Beel. 

"I'm glad that I asked you. I can't thank you enough for this." Beel smiles kindly at you. 

"How did you do this before I came?" You are pretty curious about this.

"Well, I always manage somehow. I would make a few cakes or just ask one of my brothers to hold me back. It was always a huge battle. It's pretty shameful to be honest." Beel looks distraught. 

"You still always manage to do it for Belphie and that is all that matters in my opinion. No matter how tough it is on you, you still do it just to make him happy. I think that's pretty amazing." You want to encourage Beel. 

Beel smiles at you. "You might be right. Thank you for seeing it like this." 

It's like he never even considered thinking this way. 

Then the cake is ready to be baked. 

Beel is very careful with it. 

You look at all the ingredients you still have left. "What should we do with these?" 

"Hmmm, it's much more than what I usually leave. I haven't thought about it." Beel expected to eat most of the extra ingredients. 

"I think we should make some muffins with them. It would be a great treat for everyone." You think it will give Belphie the chance to enjoy his favorite cake in a new way. 

"That's a great idea. I'm sure Belphie will love that." Beel loves this idea. 

"How about we have a snack while the cake is baking? It smells so good I'm getting hungry." As if to agree, my stomach rumbles. 

"I thought it was just me. I will make us some sandwiches. Is that alright with you?" Beel chuckles lightly. 

"Sounds great." You can only agree. 

While Beel is preparing food for you, you notice the flour in his hair. "Can you bend down for a moment?" 

"Um, sure." Beel doesn't even question why. 

You gently remove the flour. "There you go."

He looks a bit confused.

"There was flour in your hair." 

"Ah, and I thought you were just patting me for some reason." Beel smiles at me. 

"I can do that too. You definitely deserve headpats." You giggle a little. 

Beel blushes and then his stomach starts to sound like a lion. "We need to do that later."

"Haha yeah sure seems like it." You both eat your sandwiches. Beel eats an entire package. 

Then the cake is done. 

"It already looks great. Now it needs to cook down and then we get to decorate it." You look at the cake. 

Beel nods. "We should use the time to make the muffins."

"Yeah, that's right." You start to prepare the ingredients and Beel does the mixing. 

This works best for both of you. Then you bake the muffins. 

"So now to decorate this cake. Will you use the chocolate or do you want to put the sugar decorations on it?" 

"I will do the chocolate. These sugar decorations somehow always break when I touch them." Beel seems to have tried it many times. 

It makes sense to you that he is so strong that they probably just crumble. "Okay."

Beel carefully covers the whole cake and I place the various tiny and fragile decorations on top of it. 

"There we go. What do you think? Does it look good?" You are pretty proud of yourself, but it's most important to you that Belphie will like it. 

"It looks great. I couldn't have done it without you." Beel beams with happiness and pride. He pats you on the head. 

You blush. 

"That was because you deserve some head pats." Beel uses your words. It's pretty embarrassing to hear it from him. 

"Thank you." You aren't sure what else to say. 

"Hold on, you got some chocolate there." Beel eyes your face and then uses his finger to clean your cheek. He then licks his finger. "Delicious." 

You blush even more from that statement. 

The timer for the muffins saves you. 

They honestly look and smell great. 

"They are amazing! This was a great idea." Beel looks with a lot of pride at the muffins. 

"I have to agree. Do you want to decorate them too?" You look at the load of muffins that you made. 

"I will coat them in chocolate. Maybe one decoration each? Just leave two without." Beel has a plan. 

"Sure, but what about the leftover two?" You don't mind at all. 

"I've got a plan for these." Beel doesn't say anything else.

You don't mind it, it's making you curious if anything. 

So you decorate the muffins and Beel does something with the extra muffins behind you. 

You have to work hard to not peek. 

Once you are done Beel comes up to you, hands behind his back. 

"I made something for you." Beel then sheepishly hands you two very nicely decorated muffins. They each seem to represent one of the twins. 

It makes you smile. "Aww, that's so sweet of you Beel. Thank you so much." 

"I'm glad you like it." Beel smiles brightly. 

You take the muffins and decide to follow up on something you wanted to do earlier. 

"Could you bend down for me?" You ask with a smile. 

"Have I more flour in my hair?" He ruffles his hair.

"No, just do it." You shake your head. 

Beel then shrugs and bends down. 

You smile at him and give him a light kiss on the lips. 

Beel blushes, he didn't expect that at all. 

"That one was because you are so awesome." You give him a big smile. 

Beel blushes. "Thank you."

The day of the party arrives and Beel presents the cake and muffins to Belphie. 

He is very happy about all the effort that Beel put into it. 

"Wow, that's the best cake ever." Belphie loves all the work and love that was put into this. 

"Thank you but they helped me a lot." Beel looks at you. "It would've been impossible without them."

"That's sweet of you to say, but you did the most work. I'm just glad that Belphie likes it." This is a bit embarrassing to hear. 

"I love it. Thank you both."Belphie beams at both of you. It is a full success.

  Check my Obey me! Masterlist for more content

[nerd2614]

Sweet Death

@write-it-motherfuckers original prompt

Cool poem I found whilst googling stuff

“Tigers are the largest type of cat.” You blurted out as a large man carefully picked up a miniature rainbow tiger ceramic. Your eyes widened and you began to stumble over an apology. The people at work were only saying yesterday that you should at least try not to disrupt unknown people with random bits of information. To your great surprise, he turned towards you with an almost childlike smile.

“Though often lions have a larger skull than that of tigers.” He said happily.

“Must be all that hot air they store in there.” You quipped.

The man laughed freely. His gloved hand came up to press against his sternum, covered by layers of jumpers. The beanie on his head started to slip from his shaking.

You glanced around the bizarre little antique shop you’d scrambled into when the snow started. A Cuckoo clock next to you caught your eye. You picked it up with a devilish grin. “The cuckoo bird actually lays its eggs in the nests of other birds so they don’t have to raise their young.”

“Sounds like my parents.” The man joked. The both of you paused - unsure of how the other would react - before bursting out with a fit of giggles. This continued for quite a while. One of you would pick out an item in the shop and provided a factoid. Then the other would make a dark quip about it.

This only stopped when the elderly shopkeeper firmly asked you to be quiet or be gone. Without discussion, the both of you moved towards the exit.

“At least it’s not snowing anymore.”

The man beside you hummed in agreement.

“My name’s Eve by the way.” You smiled and stuck your hand out.

Your new friend hesitated. He looked at your hand for a moment before sheepishly meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, I don’t really, um...”

You frowned. Then his words hit you and you took a step back, bringing your arm crashing into your side. “Oh! No, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed...” You trailed off awkwardly.

“Eve. Full of life, very fitting.” He fiddled with his gloves to avoid looking at you. A shiver tore through you that had nothing to do with the cold. “Would you like to get a coffee with me, Eve?”

“I’d love to, Mister Mysterious.” You joked, starting to follow him down the street.

“Oh, um-” pink dusted his cheeks “- call me Theo.”

/

That first coffee turned into a regular hang out once a week. Then almost every day Theo would pick you up from work for an adventure. He was very adamant about his no touch rule. No matter what the weather or occasion was, he found a way to cover up completely. Theo often shied away from you when you came too close. You tried not to take it to heart. As a very affectionate person, you had to restrain yourself from hugging Theo or holding his hand when crossing the street.

At one of your first movie nights, you built up the courage to ask about it.

“I have...” Theo mumbled an answer. You shuffled around on your beanbag to be able to look at him directly.

“Hmm?”

“Really. Sensitive. Skin.” Theo announciated each word by throwing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Oh. So you’re not afraid you’ll fall in love with me if we accidentally touch hands?” You pretended to pout. You made a mental reminder to be extra careful in future. Causing your new friend any pain was the last thing you wanted.

Theo laughed softly and pointed out something in the movie. The topic was dropped.

/

“Are your ears painted on? Back. Off.” You practically growled at the woman flirting with Theo.

She raised a perfectly painted on eyebrow, “I didn’t realise you were his girlfriend.”

“He’s obviously uncomfortable.” You defended him. Theo stood up and carefully positioned himself beside you. The woman rolled her eyes and stalked off.

You smiled and passed over his drink. “I leave you alone for two seconds.”

“Thank you, Eve.” Theo rumbled. You had an idea he wasn’t talking about the tea.

The two of you were walking down the street when Theo’s shoulders started shaking.

“What’s wrong?”

“You, you practically growled at that poor woman! What were you going to do if she hadn’t left?” Theo started laughing. He laughed a lot more than when you first met almost four years ago. No matter how much you heard it, it filled you with joy.

“Shut up.”

/

You had never run that fast in your life. Theo had fallen off the side of the lookout with a slowness that was terrifying. You had reached out to grab him but only managed to grasp the tassel of his beanie. Sickening cracks echoed with his grunts as he seemed to hit every tree and rock on the way down.

“Theo!” The scream tore from your throat. Tears streamed from your eyes. Branches whipped against your cheeks. Your heart felt like it simultaneously stopped and was beating as fast as it ever had. You forced yourself to concentrate on the worn away game trail in front of you. There was no possible way he could have survived the fall. No human could have. But you prayed to anyone that would listen that Theo would be alright.

You cried out in relief as you saw him crawl his way onto the riverbank. There was no logical way he could have survived such a fall, and yet there he was, looking completely unharmed. There wasn’t even a scratch anywhere you could see. Your panicked mind was having difficulty comprehending it. Unthinkingly, you reached out and searched him desperately for wounds. It wasn’t until you were gently cupping his face in your hands that you registered that his body initially flinched away from your touch.

“You… Eve, you’re… touching me.” His breathless voice cut through your panic, freezing you in place.

You gasped and reefed your hands back as his voice registered. Tears started to flow freely again. You stumbled back, hiccupping. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I fucked up. Sorry.”

His firm hands latched onto your wrists before you could move too far away. You peeked up at him through damp eyelashes to see a slack expression of awe and reverence on his face. The action made you tense again. You looked down at his hands that made yours look so small. The difference was never noticeable before, Theo always felt larger than life, but to actually see the size of his hands engulfing your wrists was shocking. You fell completely silent. As if you were made of glass, Theo gently tugged you closer so you were both kneeling on the muddy riverbank. His hair and clothes were still dripping from his time in the water. His beanie was still clutched in your hand.

His eyes were searching yours for answers or maybe just questions you didn’t know the answer to. Theo looked down at your joined hands. Slowly, he released one and raised it to his mouth to tug off his thick leather glove with his teeth. He hesitated for a split moment before interlocking his icy cold fingers with yours. You watched in silence as his whole body shuddered, feeling your panic begin to bloom again as his eyes welled up with tears.

“You can touch me…” He whispered breathlessly again.

Confused, you simply watched him in silence, heart aching as you saw him shake at the simple touch. Carefully, he pulled your hand back to his face, hesitating before all but nuzzling into it.

“You can touch me!” His voice was enthusiastically louder than before.

Your attempt to reply was cut off as his awe filled words dissolved into an almost hysterical giggle. Without consciously deciding to, you slowly shuffled forward to carefully pull him into your arms. Instantly, he all but melted into your embrace, clutching at you desperately as he let out a mix between a laugh and a sob, his entire body shaking like a leaf.

Pushing aside your confusion, you simply held him, soothingly rubbing his back as he kept murmuring deliriously into your neck, seeming almost starved for your touch now that he had felt it. You whispered sweet nothings to him, assuring him that you weren’t going to go anywhere.

The dampness oozed into your clothes, which in turn allowed the cold to seep into your bones. You started to shiver uncontrollably. At first you were able to suppress it a bit, whatever Theo was going through was more important than a slight chill, but even he noticed as an especially violent shiver ripped through you.

“Eve?” Theo pulled back slightly, mindful to not break his contact with you. You sniffed and shook your head to dismiss his questions.

“It’s fine. You’re more important. I’m just really, just real glad you didn’t get hurt.” You didn’t bother to ask if he was okay. Anyone who refused to be touched for years then basically melded themselves into the first person who ‘could’ touch them was obviously the very opposite of okay. Theo frowned. He disentangled his hand from yours to run his thumb over your bottom lip. A blush rose on your face, chasing away the cold you felt.

“Your lips are blue.”

You giggled. “No they’re not, feel v’ry warm.”

His hand stilled. He gently tugged his beanie out of your grip and slid it down over your ears. “We need to leave.” He stood abruptly, bringing you up with him. You giggled again. “Can you walk?” You looked at him like he’d grown a third head. You took a step and nearly collapsed. Concern etched itself into Theo’s face.

“S’not good.” You muttered. It was colder still now. The sun had disappeared behind the trees leaving the valley in a state of near darkness. A breeze picked up from the river and blew towards you. Theo stood close to you to shield from the cold then seemed to realise he was still damp and wasn’t radiating any heat. He looked torn between staying away and keeping as close as possible.

“You have hypothermia.” There was no doubt in his voice as he looked down at you. “Shivers, slurred speech, blue lips, even your pupils are dilated. This is my fault! If I hadn't slipped...”

You leant against Theo and sighed. “Shhh, no one's fault.”

“How’s your heartbeat? Is it erratic?”

“It always is around you.” You tried to joke but the words didn’t come out right. Another violent shiver ripped through you hard enough to make you gasp for air.

“Fuck.” If you weren’t already shivering, hearing Theo cuss in that low voice would have made you start. You tried to tell him so but it was as if your tongue was made of lead. You wished whoever was making that awful chattering noise would stop. The world started spinning but came to an abrupt stop as you landed in Theo’s arms. His breathing was a lot steadier than yours even though he was ascending the steep side of the valley with your added form.

“You can’t leave me, Eve. You can’t touch me and die of a silly human condition. It’s not fair. Just hang in there for me.”

There were lots of questions that you wanted to ask him. “What’s the real reason you don’t want people to touch you? Why are you so cold? What do you mean ‘human condition'?” But now was not the time. Tightly embraced in Theo’s arms, you focused on trying to reassure him that you wouldn’t leave. Four quick taps, one tap, tap hold tap, one tap. His small smile filled your vision.

Your eyes fluttered open.

You were reclined in the passenger seat with your worn car blanket draped over you. The windows were all fogged up. The heater was on.

“Theo?” To talk was painful, but you had to know.

“Eve.” It did something to you to hear your name said with such relief. You propped yourself up on your elbow to face the man sprawled in the backseat. He had hung his thick coat over the back of the driver’s seat to dry. A thin blue shirt stretched across his chest, looking a bit worse for wear.

“You’re not part cat, are you?”

Of all the questions Theo was expecting, that was not one. The tension shattered with his light laugh. You tried and failed to keep a straight face.

“No. Not part cat.” Theo’s smile slowly faded. He paused. You could tell he was thinking of the best way to tell you what happened. He evidently decided to rip the bandaid off quickly. “I’m a Lord of Death. My true name is Thanatos.”

“I guess that’s why you thought my name was funny all those years ago.” You mused. “Life and Death meeting at last.”

Theo, for that’s who he would always be to you, reached over to brush his fingers against your cheek. “Something like that.”

“Come, sweet death, into the arms of my embrace.” You quoted seriously, holding your arms out. He looked confused for a moment before understanding flickered across his face. He scooped you up into his arms and the two of you held each other in the heated car.

There were still lots of questions that you wanted to ask, but now was not the time. For now, you simply held him as you both absorbed the moment, knowing that somehow everything would be alright.

And that was more than enough for you.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

hiya! how about some arthur morgan x fem!reader when he finds out she’s pregnant or his reaction to becoming a father? thank you 💙

This one’s super short and sweet. It’s also a modern AU because I feel like there’s quite a few like this that happen in the game’s time. Hope you like it! 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You sit down heavily, your heart thumping hard but steady. Thoughts race around each other in your mind, as well as emotions. You feel excitement, anxiety, and even fear. But why should you be afraid? You and Arthur have been trying for this result for months. 

As you sit and think, you suddenly remember that Arthur will be home in an hour. Shit, you want to tell him right now about the news, but you don’t want to just tell him the same way you would if you’d just bought a bag of apples. There’s no excitement in that. It wouldn’t be right, not for this life-altering news. No, you need to come up with something special. 

The hour passes and… nothing. You’ve nothing to show for it. You tried coming up with a fun or cute way to tell him and couldn’t come up with anything. Too soon, you hear his truck rumbling into the driveway, turn off, and then the sound of him whistling as he comes to the door. He must have had a good day if he’s whistling. Oh if only you could make it better. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says the moment he opens the door, a big grin on his face. 

“Hi!” you say too eagerly. He doesn’t notice. When he hugs you, he notices that you don’t return it in the same way you usually do. You’re more standoffish. 

“Wha’s wrong?” he asks. 

“N-nothing,” you lie. “Just tired is all.” 

He shrugs his shoulders and goes into your room to take off his shoes. Throughout the remainder of the evening, you try thinking of a good way to tell him. Again though, you don’t just want to say it. There’s no spark with that way. 

A few days later, you come home from the craft store, your hands laden with bags of supplies. You came up with this idea last night while laying in bed. Arthur still doesn’t know, but you think he might be getting suspicious that something’s up. He keeps asking if you’re feeling okay or if something’s wrong. 

When you unload your bags, you set down to work. It takes a few hours to bring everything together, but it looks even better than you’d been hoping. It’s just a binder you wrapped in some nice fabric so it doesn’t look so boring. But it’s what’s inside that you’re really proud of. 

Arthur comes home and you greet him as normally as possible, trying not to seem overly excited. He kisses you and heads into your room to take off his shoes. He doesn’t notice the binder sitting on his pillow at first, but when he sits down, it slides just enough that he sees it. 

“Wha’s this?” he asks softly. You’re not in the room, but he can hear you moving around in the kitchen getting dinner started. He wants to help you but curiosity gets the better of him. He picks up the binder, there’s no words on the front. But he likes the fabric. The green and yellow hues remind him of sunlight streaming through leaves of a tree. 

He opens it and sees the very first picture you and he took together all those years ago. It was only a couple weeks after you started dating. He smiles and flips the page. The picture is the next one you two took together. It was when he finally convinced you to ride his horse. In the photo, he’s standing next to you as you sit in the saddle. He smiles, remembering that moment fondly. 

He keeps on flipping through the pictures. Each one is a moment he remembers fondly. Sharing a kiss on the top of a ferris wheel. Both of you standing in the shark tube at the aquarium. Arthur pulling a goofy face at the sleeping lion on the other side of the glass at the zoo. Each one is of an important moment in your lives together. There’s even just simple pictures of you both sitting next to each other on a porch swing, fishing at the lake. He loves each one of them. 

He comes to the last of the pictures and then flips together to see a handwritten note. It says, “We’ve shared so many special moments and each one is a memory I’ll hold onto forever. I have another I want to share with you.” 

When he flips the note, there’s nothing there. What is it you’re wanting to share with him? He flips through the whole binder, but there’s nothing except empty sleeves to hold photos that don’t exist yet. He closes it and stands up, heading into the kitchen. 

“Darlin’, what is this?” 

You smile, holding your phone in such a way he knows you’re getting ready to take a picture of him. 

“It’s for you,” you say. 

“I know, but why’s there a whole bunch of empty sleeves?” 

“They’re for us to fill when we have our baby.” 

He falls silent and his brows furrow a bit. “Baby?” He sighs. “Honey, I know it’s frustratin’. You and I been tryin’ a long time, I know.” 

You roll your eyes. This whole thing obviously went right over his head. “Arthur, we don’t have to try anymore. I’m pregnant.” 

The moment he registers it, you snap a picture. “There! We can add this to our book now!” You show him the picture of his shocked expression, but he doesn’t move.

“You… you’re…” 

“Yes, honey. We’re having a baby!” 

He lets out a sharp breath and smiles, immediately folding you into his arms. “Thank you, darlin’. I couldn’t be more proud.” 

“You should be, babe. It’s gonna be a little you.” 

“And a whole lotta you.” He chuckles and kisses your head, swaying a bit as he hugs you. In his mind, this moment couldn’t be more special.

[amydancepants-peralta]

36 for fluff prompts? 🥺🥰

36: “A thunderstorm is rolling through town and you’re scared of lightning/thunder, so I'll protect you”

This, and a bunch of other prompts that never made their way to AO3, have just been posted here.  ♥️

boom, clap 

It’s the steady roar from a shot of thunder that pulls Amy Santiago from her slumber that Thursday evening, her eyelids putting up a lazy fight against returning to sleep as she listens to the thunder’s reverberations coarse through the oft-unused metal of the fire escape outside.  

Briefly, she remembers hearing the weather man mention something about a storm during his report earlier this evening.  But her and Jake had been taking turns between cooking dinner and supervising their son as he coloured at the kitchen counter, and anything that wasn’t immediately in front of her had paled in importance.  

Gripping the edge of her favourite blanket Amy shifts in place, turning her body towards the slightly open windows as she listens to the rain falling on the street below.  She knows that she should probably get up and close the gaps before the rain has a chance to come in; but right now the warmth of their bed, mixed with the sound of the world outside, was just too good to ignore.

She’s long been a fan of rainy nights, ever since the first month or so of her and Jake’s relationship when they’d spent the better part of an entire stormy weekend lazing in bed, listening to the rain as it pounded against the brick outside.  The coolness that inevitably seemed to come with such weather had held no match for the warmth of her newly-titled boyfriend’s arms (the overcast clouds unable to compete with the brightness of his smile whenever she leaned in to kiss him), and their days off had passed slowly in a tangle of limbs.  Over time it had become her favourite thing to do: snoozing in the comfortable familiarity of Jake and waking to stubbly kisses; and although sleeping in doesn’t get to happen a lot these days, it is nights like these that pull the memories from their permanent home in the warmth of her heart.  

Her eyes have already turned towards her sleeping husband’s figure when the sky is suddenly flooded by a flash of lightning, their bedroom lighting up for half a second, and Amy silently counts out the seconds before the crash of thunder, stopping at fifteen and dividing by five the way her father taught her so many years ago.  Three miles - and not too far from home.

Jake’s body has turned towards her in his sleep, in a position that isn’t normal for either of them until they’re close to waking, and with her sight now well adjusted to the darkness Amy studies the familiar lines of his face.  Mouth open slightly as he lets out a muffled snore … face slack in the kind of peacefulness that only a decent night’s sleep can bring.  

The nights that followed his time in prison, when every strike of mother nature’s fury would make him quiver with fear, had never deviated far from Amy’s mind, and even though it had been years since he’d reacted that way her mind still went to her love every time a storm loomed above.

He’d told her one evening, with a voice that was shaking almost as hard as his body, that every clap of thunder sounded exactly like the doors of the jail cells in Jericho, slamming shut one by one along the corridor with an undeniable finality until it was his turn.  Each crash of lightning would hurtle him back to freezing nights on that bottom bunk; ignoring the guard’s self-satisfied smirk as he was yet again reminded that the only certainty now, was a life without freedom.  

The last time he’d cowered at the thunder, it had been about a month after they got engaged.  She’d held him close while he dropped kiss after kiss against her engagement ring, head burrowed against her chest until he finally fell asleep.   And it had made Amy realise that even though she herself held her own varying levels of fear - whether it be that drop-in-the-stomach feeling upon the realisation that the jokey, sometimes annoying detective that sat across every day somehow now occupied her every thought; or the heart-pounding-in-your-ears terror that took over all rational thought when she saw the same man (now, purely known as the love of her life) being held at gunpoint - truly, the one thing that both she and Jake were so scared to lose was a life without the other.  

Whether it was the constant reassurance of her presence, or the inherent knowledge that their life together really was just around the corner from being officially offical, Amy isn’t entirely sure.  What she does know is since that night, Jake had slept through every storm.  But still, with every tempest that had passed since, she has always taken a moment to check.  

Tonight, thankfully, seemed to be okay.  

The next clap of thunder is violent - the kind that seems to splinter right through your eardrum - and Jake’s eyes snap open right before they both hear the terrified wail of their son from his bedroom down the hall.  It’s followed a mere second later by the sound of his bare feet slapping against the floorboards as Mac races into their bedroom, bounding onto Jake and Amy’s bed without hesitation as the clouds grumble above.  

His tiny fingers grapple with the edge of their comforter, scurrying underneath the covers and shuffling closer to Amy in the blink of an eye, whimpering into her shirt as another round of thunder rumbles above.  

Amy feels Jake’s hands brush against her own as they both move to calm their son, murmuring  soft words of comfort as he shakes beneath them.  

“That last bang was a pretty loud one, huh buddy?”  Jake’s voice sounds a little rough, and Amy can tell it’s a combination of recently waking and watching Mac tremble.  Their three year old nods his head into her chest, and Jake continues.  “Yeah, they can sound pretty scary sometimes.”

Mac’s transition to a ‘big boy bed’ was a relatively recent one, and he had been So Proud to climb underneath the blankets earlier this evening that both Jake and Amy knew he had probably tried really hard to stay in his room as the ‘big brave boy’ he had declared himself to be only a few days ago.

Snuffling against her neck, Mac nods quickly at what Jake said before lifting his head up to look at his parents, his deep brown eyes suddenly so wide with fear that Amy’s heart sinks just a little.  This was her little lion, with his equally messy mane, and the owner of an incredibly contagious giggle.  Even if he had tested her resolve earlier today by having a full-on meltdown in the middle of the department store because she would not let him take home the fire extinguisher as his new toy; he was her baby boy, and the urge to protect him from all the scary parts of life was unparalleled.  

“But why?”

Jake and Amy lock eyes over the top of their son’s head, and with a comical roll of her eyes, Amy grins.  Lately, but why? had become two of Mac’s most favourite words to say.

She wants to tell him that logically, thunder is merely a ‘cause and response’ action, the atmosphere clashing between sudden and expansive pockets of heat that cool just as quickly as they build.  One day, they will take a trip to the library and read book after book on just how cool weather can be - make posters and projects about all of the different seasons and how they affect the earth as they pass through - but for now, she merely smiles at her son, and asks - “Do you remember when we went to watch Grandpa Ray play bowling with Kevin?”

“Gampa Way?”  (The letter R has been one of the more difficult letters for Mac to master, and the tiredness that still hovered over his body did not help in the slightest.)

“Yeah.  And remember how loud the bowling pins sounded every time he would roll a ball into them?”

(It had come as a complete surprise to everyone and no-one when fliers for Holt’s bowling tournament had landed on each of their desks.  It was, after all, exactly as their captain had described: a simple - “and yet vastly entertaining” - combination of both geometry and Newton’s second law of motion.  The entire squad had attended, if for no other reason than to watch their captain traipse along over-bleached wood in garishly red leather shoes, and had come away impressed by both he and Kevin’s smooth bowling techniques.)

Mac’s eyes grow wider at the memory and he nods, switching positions and burrowing into Jake’s arms as a quiet rumble rolls through the clouds.

“Well, thunder is just like that.  It’s when Mother Nature decides to take all of her friends, and go bowling.”  Amy pauses for a moment, waiting for any trace of doubt before continuing.  “There’s a rumble as the ball rolls down the lane … and every time you hear a loud bang, it’s just someone making another really great score.”

Resting his chin on his father’s chest, Mac looks up at Jake.  “Like Kevin?”

Giving him a gentle smile, Jake nods.  “Yeah, just like Kevin and Grandpa Ray.”  Wriggling slightly until his right arm is under the covers, Jake runs his index finger slowly along the bridge of his son’s nose back and forth.  It’s something that he’s done with Mac ever since he was born, and has a fairly high success rate in calming him down.

“But you know what?  It’s okay if the sounds scare you a little.  Or even a lot.  Daddy used to find the storms scary, too.”

Amy’s fingers weave through Mac’s curls from behind as she speaks.  “And Mommy, too.”

Rolling back until his head rests on the edges of both their pillows, Mac looks over at Amy before turning to Jake, then back to Amy again.  “Weally?”

“Yeah, bud.  Really.  Sometimes things are scary, and it’s okay if it makes you feel that way.”  

Taking in a deep breath, Amy feels her eyebrows raise at the sheer perfection of Jake’s response.  Since day dot, he’s been an amazing father to their son (and she knows he will be just the same to their next addition, still another eight months away) - providing that ideal mixture of attention and light-hearted approach to life that she loves so dearly.  For all his reservations about fatherhood, Amy genuinely cannot imagine doing this with anybody else. 

Stretching his neck slightly, Jake leans in towards them both.  “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Mr Mac, and you need to know it’s something that only us Peralta-Santiago’s will ever truly understand.”

Mac’s eyes seem to double in size as he scoots just that little bit closer to Jake, clearly intrigued.  Playing up to the mystery of it all, Jake curls his finger in a ‘come hither’ action, a grin breaking out onto his face when Mac follows eagerly.  

Unashamedly, Amy finds herself doing the same.  

Dropping his head down towards his son, Jake glances up at Amy before locking eyes with Mac, his voice coming out in a stage whisper as he divulges - “There’s no safer place in the world, than in Mommy’s arms.”

“In the world?”

“In the whole. world.” 

Flipping onto the mattress again, Mac turns to Amy - his eyes so wide with wonder that she cannot help but let out a chuckle, opening her arms in silent invitation.  He wriggles over to her eagerly, already convinced that what his father has told him is 100% the truth; and at the feeling of her son’s still slightly chubby cheeks resting against her chest Amy makes a silent prayer for moments like this to never, ever fade.  

“She gives the best hugs, that are completely filled with safety and protection and hope and … just love, My Mini Mac.  Your mom is just choc-full of love for the both of us, and the real secret is just how lucky we both are to get her hugs every. single. day.”

As her eyes begin to pool with tears, Amy looks over at Jake, mouthing I love you and breaking into a grin when he mouths it right back.  Even after all these years together, she still finds herself thinking that maybe she might just be the luckiest girl in the world.  “I don’t about you, bubba, but I kinda think your Daddy’s cuddles are just the BEST.”

Mac’s forehead brushes against her chest repeatedly as he nods, turning again to watch both of them from the pillow (truly, he can be the wriggliest of worms at times).  Tracing one of the buttons on his pyjamas with the tip of her finger, Amy deviates to give him a playful poke in the belly before tracing the button again.  “We’ll always be here for hugs, Macadoodle.  No matter what, no matter when.  Okay?”

Jake reaches his hand across the small space between them, linking his fingers with Amy’s and resting them against Mac’s stomach as his curls bounce from an enthusiastic nod.  

“Mama is right.  No matter what, no matter when.  But … for now, how about we try and get some sleep, little man?  You can stay here between us, and be the safest boy in all the universe.”

Amy feels a soft kick as Mac wriggles further down the mattress, and she waits until he’s fully settled before tucking him in gently.  “You’re right, Dadda.  You’ve got a big day tomorrow with Aunty Ro-Ro, so you need to build up all your energy.”  The clouds rumble slightly outside, and Jake slips out of bed quickly to close the windows as the rain begins to pelt down.  “Don’t worry about the storm, my little lion.  You’re safe here with us.”

As he returns to their bed, Jake leans forward slightly to press a kiss to Amy’s lips, following with a goodnight kiss to Mac’s forehead.  “A snug as a bug you are, mister.  Time for rest, okay?”

Both of the parents watch as Mac’s eyelids flutter shut, the tiniest of smiles staying on his face as he nestles into the blanket covering him.  Craning her neck, Amy leans forward in a silent request for another kiss, and gives her husband a contented smile as they pull away.  Despite how tired they both were, it was moments like this that made being a family all the more worth it.  

Storms may come and go, but what they have together is stronger than anything the world could try to throw at them.

She wakes in the morning with a tiny arm stretched across her face and the sound of her husband singing off-key in the bathroom, and as Amy curls onto her side to bathe in the warmth of the morning sun, she is absolutely certain that she is the luckiest.  

[ladyvader23]

Stranger Danger

“Welcome home, Luke.” 

Vader led (or rather dragged) the little five year old into the entryway of his home, setting down the one bag the boy had been given on the floor. The boy (his son!) stared wide-eyed at the crystal chandelier and at the living room beyond, clutching his worn stuffed lion like it was his lifeline. When it was clear this wasn’t the home he was used to, his lip began to tremble and he buried his face in the ratty mane. 

Vader’s lips tightened. The boy still had yet to say a single word to him since he’d met him at the hospital. “I know it’s not your aunt and uncle's house. But you will like it. I promise.” 

Luke’s only response was to tighten his grip on the lion. 

Shit. He wasn’t good with kids. He didn’t know how he managed to get Leia to like him, let alone love him...but he’d had her since she was an infant. He hadn’t even known Luke existed until he received a call from the hospital informing him that not only had he been appointed the emergency guardian of his step-brother’s kid, but that the kid was actually his by blood. 

How did this happen? He wondered for the billionth time. He’d found Leia shortly after birth, but it hadn’t occurred to him that Padme had given birth to twins. He never spoke to his step-brother, but even if he had, he didn’t know if he would have put two and two together even then. 

But now Owen and Beru were dead, killed in a car crash. An accident Luke had been in as well, but survived with only a few scratches. So Vader had inherited not only an unknown son, but one that was terrified and confused. 

It didn’t help that Vader was...scarred. Most kids ran away in fright. Luke didn’t, but it certainly hadn’t gotten him to open up, either. 

He needed a way to get him to acclimate quickly. He was a busy man; he owned the supermall his three-story condo was attached to, after all. Even if he could easily work from home until Luke got settled, it probably wouldn’t help the boy if he was in meetings all day. 

He considered the problem for a moment, before deciding on the perfect plan. 

If he was too scared of him, maybe Leia could help ease him in. She was his twin, after all, and didn’t kids make friends with each other easily? 

“Luke. Look at me.” Reluctantly, the boy pulled his face away from the lion (that would need good washing, he immediately decided). “Wait here. I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

Without another word, Vader turned on his heel and went to find Leia and the nanny. 

Leaving Luke alone. 

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

Stranger danger! 

Luke kept thinking over and over again. Aunt Beru had warned him that if he wasn’t careful, he could be kidnapped by a stranger, and she’d never see him again. She told him, and now he was driven away from his aunt and uncle to a scary new house by a scary looking man. 

He wanted to scream. That’s what Beru said to do if a stranger took him. But he’d couldn’t, so now here he was, and the scary man was going to get a ‘surprise’ for him. 

He was a stranger. It probably wasn’t a good surprise. It was probably a trick, like the tricks Uncle Owen played on him that resulted in him going to the doctors instead of McDonalds. What would the stranger bring back? A needle to give him a shot? Something to hit him with? A mean monster to eat him? 

He was afraid, and he just wanted his aunt and uncle. 

But now the scary man was gone, and he was alone. He wasn’t brave enough to scream. But then he looked at the front door, reached up and opened it, revealing the driveway, a parking lot, and then another huge building. 

Maybe he could run away and hide in that building. The scary man wouldn’t find him there. 

Luke took one last look at where the stranger had disappeared before turning and bolting out the door, running as fast as his little legs could carry him. 

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

“Why couldn’t you bring me home a sister?” Leia pouted as Vader carried her down the stairs. 

“That’s not how it works.” Vader explained on a sigh. 

“Why can’t Miss Jenny meet him? Is he going to have his own nanny?” 

“No, Miss Jenny will nanny him too--” 

“But I don’t wanna share!” 

Maybe not being the only child in the house would be good for Leia, he decided, pausing on the second story landing. “Leia. Listen. Your brother...Luke...he’s scared. He...he didn’t know we existed.” 

“Where’s he been? The store?” Leia frowned. 

“No. He…” He wasn’t about to explain his complicated past to her, and he’d learned long ago not to say anything to her that he didn’t want repeated. “He was with other family. So, can you help me and be his friend?” 

Leia tilted her head, her little curls bouncing around her shoulders. “Fine.”

“That’s my girl.” He turned the corner, heading down the last flight stairs...and froze, staring in horror at the wide open door. 

“Where is he daddy?” Leia asked, looking around. “You said he was here.” 

“I did…” He swallowed, trying not to panic, but the door was wide open and Luke was missing… 

He ran down the last of the steps and to the door, hoping he’d see him not far from the condo. 

Nothing. Just the parking lot full of cars, and the mall beyond. 

“Fuck.” He breathed, earning him a gasp from his daughter as he set her down. “Go back to Miss Jenny. Now.” Already he was pulling his cell out to make a call to Mr. Piett, his mall manager. 

Leia didn’t need to be told twice, but as she ran back up the stairs she shouted, “Miss Jenny, daddy said a bad word!” 

Piett picked up on the second ring. “The shipment hasn’t arrived yet--” 

“I don’t care about the damn shipment!” He all but roared into the phone. “My son is lost in the mall!” At least he hoped he was, not hit by a car or run off to who knew where, but even then kids were kidnapped from malls all the time--

“I...didn’t know you had a son…?” 

“I didn’t either!” Shit, he had him for fifteen minutes and already he was gone! How was he that bad with children?! “Get all staff on high alert! I want security to sweep the area in and around the mall!” 

“Yes sir...but...ah, what does your son look like?” 

Vader reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course he didn’t have a picture. “He looks like Leia. Except blonde haired and blue eyed. And a boy.” Stupid. That was obvious, but he could hardly think straight. “He’s also holding a ugly stuffed lion.” 

“We can work with that.” Then he paused. “Mr. Vader. We’ll find him.” 

“You had better!” Vader snarled. “Or it’s everyone’s jobs!” 

He couldn’t really fire his entire staff, but it didn’t matter. 

Anything to find and protect Luke. 

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

The big building looked like one of those places his aunt sometimes liked to take him. When she did, they spent hours there. If he was good, she’d get him ice cream. But she wasn’t there, and there were a lot of people walking around that he didn’t know. 

More strangers. 

He clutched Biggs the lion closer, hurrying to get out of the way of the taller strangers. They didn’t look at him. They were busy talking to each other, or on the phone, and most of them carried big paper bags that were almost as big as him. Multiple times they bumped him or almost stepped on his toes. 

He quickly found a almost empty store to hide in. 

It wasn’t one of those stores his aunt liked. There weren’t any boring clothes in it. It had lots of tools, like the ones his uncle liked. It instantly relaxed him, and he wandered through the isles, smelling the familiar scent of rubber and metal. 

When he stopped to look at a big huge barbecue like the one his uncle had, but way bigger, there was a panicked yelp somewhere in the store. Luke looked over just in time to watch a stranger run by the other end of the isle. He frowned, briefly wondering if he was running to the bathroom, then refocused on the grill. 

“I think only five people in the world would want one that big,” he told Biggs. “That would like...like...make hot dogs for a million people! You’d need lots of friends to invite over.” 

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

“He definitely entered the mall, sir. Security caught him going into the mall, but we lost him in the crowd.” 

If Vader wasn’t standing in front of Piett and Veers (head of security), he might have started banging his head on the wall. 

Why? Why hadn’t he locked the damn door?! 

“Get security in place at all exits. No one is to leave without being asked if they’ve seen him. If they have a kid that looks like him, ask for proof of identification. Find my son!” 

“It’s already done, sir. We’ll find him.” Veers tried to sound calming, but it only made Vader’s panic turn to fury. 

“Then do it!” 

Veers gulped, glanced at Piett, then scurried off. 

“We find missing children daily, sir.” Piett calmly reminded him. “We will find your son.” 

He knew that. And yet it was different when it was his kid. The boy he hadn’t even known he’d had when he’d woken up that morning. 

“Do you know what he likes? Maybe he’ll be drawn there…” 

“I don’t know.” What kind of father was he? All he knew was that Luke liked his lion. 

“What does Leia like? Maybe they have similar tastes.” 

It was a good point, though he wouldn’t ever admit it. “The toy store.” 

“I’ll ask the staff there to keep an eye out.” 

When Piett turned and left his office, Vader sat back down in his chair and buried his face in his hands. 

What would Padme say if she could see him now? Maybe Kenobi had been right to steal his--

No. 

He was a good father. Unconventional, but he was. Leia’s love for him proved it. 

He’d find Luke, and he’d try again. 

He wasn’t going to give up. 

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

The smell of food had Luke riding the moving stairs up to the second floor, his tummy rumbling. When he got off, there were a bunch of restaurants huddled around a big open area. Lots of people sat at tables with their friends and families, eating food. Some of it looked icky, like the green leaf food, but others looked yummy like hamburgers. 

He walked over to the food places...then stopped before he got in line. He didn’t have any money, or his aunt to get him food. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. Sometimes Aunt Beru put money in there for him to give to the school lunch lady, but she hadn’t done that today. He only had lint and an old sucker in there. 

But his tummy rumbled again, and it sort of hurt. He hadn’t eaten since that morning, since before…

His gaze caught a tray of food left out on the table. 

No one was around, and it looked like some of the food was eaten, but there were a bunch of fries just sitting there. 

He liked fries. 

He approached, reached up and grabbed the box...and paused. 

Aunt Beru said stealing was bad. He needed to pay for the fries, or trade. 

All he had was the old sucker.

“I hope they like cherry.” Luke told Biggs as he pulled the sucker out and put it on the tray. Then, he began walking away, stuffing fries into his mouth as he did so. 

He was still wandering around, eating fries that had gone cold, when he heard his name over the speaker. 

“....Be on the lookout for a blonde boy named Luke Skywalker…”

He stopped, freezing as he stared up at the ceiling where the voice was coming from. 

They were mad he stole fries! 

His chest began to heave and his legs shook. They were going to call the police, and he was going to get arrested! Maybe he should have traded for a grape sucker…

He dropped the fries and took off running. 

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

“Mr. Vader, we spotted him!” Veers came running into his office. 

Vader was on his feet in an instant, ignoring whatever Piett was trying to tell him. “Where?!” 

“He’s headed for Macy’s. We sent security…” 

Vader was already moving. 

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

“Maybe we can live in the clothes, Biggs.” Luke frowned at the racks and racks of clothes stretching as far as he could see. He sometimes played inside of the clothes while his aunt shopped. She always got mad when she caught him, but it still seemed like a great hiding place. 

Except that he’d have to live in clothes. He made a face. That sounded boring. 

But where else was he going to hide from the police? 

He began heading that way...and stopped when a Christmas tree caught his eye. 

He frowned, tilting his head. It was taller than the one at his house, but Aunt Beru was good at decorating the tree. She even let him help. 

Maybe she could help whoever decorated this tree. 

Forgetting about hiding, he walked up to the stranger behind the desk that was next to the ugly tree. “Excuse me?” 

The man didn’t look at him. He was talking to another adult who was handing him clothes. 

“Excuse me?!” 

The man looked down, opening his mouth, then froze, staring at him. “L-Luke?” He stammered. 

Maybe he wasn’t a stranger, after all. He knew his name. 

He pointed at the tree. “Your tree is ugly.” 

He blinked down at him, then looked at the other woman. “I’m...sorry, you’ll have to excuse me…” then he leaned down to be at Luke’s level. He smiled, and despite his ugly tree, Luke decided he seemed nice. Just bad at tree decorating. “Why do you think the tree is ugly?” 

Pleased that the man was going to listen to him, Luke began pointing at all the spots that didn’t have ornaments or ribbon. “My aunt says you can’t miss spots on the tree, or it’ll be naked.” He told him, quite seriously. The man was nodding, even as he pressed a button on his black box thing. “She could help you fix it, you know...though she’d need to buy new ornaments. We used all of ours on our tree.” 

“It’s a good thing we sell those here.” 

Luke brightened. “Do you have race car ones?” 

“Maybe.” 

His expression fell. “Maybe means no.” 

“Maybe means maybe--” 

“Luke!” 

Luke jumped at the angry, deep voice and whirled around, wide eyed, and saw the scary man coming right for him. He squeaked. “Gotta go!” 

“Grab him!” 

The man, who Luke was now starting to think didn’t actually know him, grabbed his wrist firmly, but not so much that it hurt. Luke pulled, trying to escape, screaming as the scary man approached. 

When the Scary Man knelt down in front of him, the other man let his wrist go. Luke tried to run, but the Scary Man’s arms wrapped around him, picking him up. 

“No!” Luke shrieked. “Stranger danger!” 

“No, I am your father--ouch, stop kicking me!” 

“Aunt Beru says not to talk to strangers!” 

“You were just talking to a stranger!” 

“His tree is ugly!” 

“I--” the man broke off, taking another look at the tree, then the man who’d tricked him. “James, that tree is ugly. Fix it.” 

James cleared his throat. “Right away, sir.” 

Then, before Luke could try to escape again, the Scary Man turned and carried Luke away. As he did so, Luke peered over the man’s shoulder, reached out to James and screamed, “Save me!”

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

Vader was fairly certain that had security not been walking with him back to his office, the entire mall might have called the cops on him for kidnapping his own child. 

Luke screamed the entire way back. Vader tried not to notice all the stares and whispers as they passed, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they entered his office, leaving security and everyone else outside. 

This time, when he set Luke down, he made sure to lock the door. 

Then he faced his newfound son who clutched that stupid lion and cowered away from him like he was some monster. 

It wouldn’t be the first time, but it still hurt that it was coming from his son. He tried to remember that it wasn’t personal: the boy had, after all, been through a traumatic accident and didn’t know who he was. 

Maybe that’s where he needed to start. 

With a sigh, he slowly knelt down in front of him. The boy watched him warily, as if any wrong move and he’d be screaming again. 

“Do you go to school, Luke?” 

He frowned, his eyes narrowing and he hugged his animal closer. “Yeah.” 

“Do the other kids have aunts and uncles?” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“What do they have?” 

“Mommies and daddies.” 

Vader nodded. “Do you understand they’re not like aunts and uncles?” 

He hesitated. “Yeah. But I don’t have a mommy and a daddy.” 

Now Vader paused, pushing back the old pain of losing his beloved wife. “No. You don’t have a mommy. But you do have a daddy.” 

Finally, Luke looked interested. “Who?”

Vader pointed to himself. “I’m your dad.” 

Luke stared at him for a while, as if deciding to trust him. “What about Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen?” 

He didn’t know how to explain death to a child. Leia hadn’t even started seriously asking about her mother yet, so he hadn’t had time to practice. What was he supposed to say to a child who’d just gone through something so traumatic and he didn’t even understand what it was yet? “They’re gone. They’ve...gone somewhere they can’t come back from.” 

“Where?” Then before Vader could answer, he whispered seriously, “Canada?” 

“...What?” 

“My friend Biggs moved away to Canada. I can’t see him anymore. I named my lion after him. See?” Luke held up the ugly lion. 

���Yes...I see. But no, your aunt and uncle went somewhere else. Somewhere no one can visit.” 

“Oh.” Luke frowned. To Vader’s horror, tears began to well up in his eyes. “I didn’t get to say bye.” 

Shit. He was terrible with tears. But as Luke sniffled and wiped his tears away with his lion (seriously, it was going in the wash as soon as they got home), Vader carefully scooped him up into his arms and held him. 

They stayed that way for a long while. 

Then, “You’re not mad I stole fries?” 

He had a feeling he was in over his head with this child. 

“No, I own the food court. But I am upset you ran away. Do you have any idea how scared I was for you?” 

“You were scared?” Luke looked up into his face. Vader was pleased to see he didn’t flinch away from his scars. 

“Yes. Very. Don’t leave me like that again. Do you understand?” 

Luke nodded. 

“Very good.” Vader stood, still holding him in his arms. “Now. How about the surprise I was trying to give you before you ran away?” 

He gave him a suspicious look. “Is it a monster?” 

He couldn’t help it. He laughed, something he rarely did. “Not exactly.”

[dreams-of-valeria]

Could it be F1 and A1 but like maybe the reader and hopper have an age gap so the reader parents are almost (but they are not... or they are ? Idk that’s up to you lol) the same age as hopper therefore there’s this kind of tension??? And hopper being kind of clumsy at the cake ? Sorry if I am asking too much, tbh your prompts got me exited!

@may85 asked:

Sooooooo can I please request A1 and F10 together? F10 being that the readers parents are complete shit and giving reader a hard time about Hop being late. Pllleassee!? 🥰🥰

In the midst of winter

F1: Baking a cake together

F10: Requester's choice

A1: Late for Christmas dinner with Reader's parents

Pairing: Jim Hopper × Younger female reader

A/N: Merry Christmas and thank you so much for your kind words! I’ve clubbed both of your requests together because as you can see, they are essentially the same but I’ve made sure to give them some individuality and I really hope you like it!

Warnings: Ok so this turned out to be a little darker than I expected and includes mentions of abuse and crying but it’s nothing our favourite Chief can’t handle. Age gap.

Word count: 3,067

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The old clock on the wall taunted you with every plock, demanding your attention between every bite of the bread you were working down just to keep your mouth busy.

The alternative would be to make conversation with the two severely conservative, stuck up and judgy people you knew as your parents. But unlike that moment, your childhood didn’t consist of you swimming in bread, although it had always been your favorite.

Your eyes drifted anywhere but over them sitting across from you at the table, and rather flew over the spread you had spent all day making. Gingerbread, ham, mashed potatoes, roasted green beans and carrots, sugar cookies, cake batter on the counter and a stuffed chicken because the store had run out of turkeys the night of Christmas Eve. The festive season was surely joyous and mesmerizing, but also meant you had to work tirelessly to a goal you had set for yourself, and could barely accomplish when your parents had arrived an hour early; just so they’d have extra time to pick at how untidy your apartment was, how old your simple black dress looked, and how you were wasting your life working as a writer at local newspaper. Which, they had added rather graphically the people of Hawkins only used to wipe their unmentionables. And that was even before they got to the pièce de resistance.

They had always been elitist and looked down upon the humble families just trying to survive and make it in a capitalist country, especially the folks of a small town, which was part of the reason you had moved to Hawkins, Indiana. The lion’s share was because you just had to get away.

The pleasant dream of having a small, homely Christmas dinner with Hopper had been shattered by that one phone call last night, of how your parents had caught wind that you’d found someone for yourself from your sister.

Becky hadn’t told them on purpose, of course. Unlike your parents, she didn’t see anything wrong with you dating a 40-year-old man especially when you were finally, truly happy. In fact, her only folly had been to leave the postcard you had sent her out on the counter, and naturally, your nosy parents had found out. Strangely, it had been Hopper’s idea to dress both of you up in all red for the photograph and send Christmas postcards out to everyone you knew. He wasn’t very generically forthcoming but did have certain ways to show affection.

Including offering to cook dinner with you. You smiled when you remembered, how only last night he had taken you in his arms after the phone call and calmed you down until your panic attack had passed. ‘We can figure it out’, he’d said, brushing your hair lovingly. You missed feeling that sense of warmth and safety in his arms.

You didn’t feel even an iota of that warmth and safety in your own apartment and surrounded by the people you’d known ever since you were born. But knowing and loving were two completely different things, you’d realised, a little too late in your life. The moment you did, you were on a bus heading south.

But now there was nowhere to run. They were there to meet your boyfriend, and like he had said, you just had to get through it. Pull off the bandaid. You wished Hopper wasn’t late, that he was there to defend you from the comments or offer comfort with his hand on the small of your back, but he was late, fighting crime. Typical.

Unlike in your parents’ case, you found that to be endearing. Even if he was forced to let you cook dinner alone.

“It’s been a while,” commented your mother, pulling her blazer’s sleeve back down over her diamond wristwatch. She was studded all over with stones, and they made your eyes hurt from the glare. You swallowed the bread and the lump down your throat and tried to smile.

“Like I said, he’s the Chief of police and must be busy with work.”

“On Christmas Eve? Did someone lose a cow or something?” Your father laughed, a balding bespectacled man who outshone his better half only in contempt.

“We’re not all mindless, farming hillbillies, dad.” You sighed, taking a sip from the wine, but reminding yourself not to drink too much. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol had worked before, but right then, it would only work in your parents’ favor. Just another reason to find a flaw in you.

“Of course not, dear. You’re not one of them.” Rebutted your dad, keeping it civil but his eyes spoke otherwise. Appearances meant everything to them, but you could never forget that look in their eyes that spoke more than those golden words ever did.

“Them are people too you know? Like Jim, my boyfriend.” You smiled, rubbing it in. It was a rarity for you to have the upper hand when it came to irking your parents, and you were not going to let this go. Your father sighed, and you could see that he was taking deep breaths to keep the civility going. Deep down, you wished he would break. You could feel a storm brewing, but it was no reason to let Jim bear witness to it. Provided that he made it in time.

“Of course.” He gritted his teeth but soon eased up. “All we’re saying is, it’s rude to be late to dinner. Especially when you spent all day cooking.”

You opened your mouth in reflex to counter but then listened to his words. Really listened. There were no double entendres or veiled insults. That made you even more suspicious.

”We just want what’s best for you, y/n.” He smiled and your mother mirrored him, and you looked between them like a deer in headlights. What sort of game were they playing? There had to be a game.

“And it’s never too late to make the right decision–” Your mother started off, and you interrupted her with an exasperated sigh.

“I knew it,” you chuckled grimly. “You’re just here to try to talk me out of my relationship.”

“What relationship?” Your father spat suddenly, and the timber of his voice made you shudder. There it was. “You are a child, and that jerk is just forcing you to–”

The door clicked open behind you and heavy footsteps gushed in, along with a gust of frozen air. All eyes went to the hallway and landed on the man of the hour, all bundled up in a parka and boots and huffing heavy breaths, probably from running up the three flights of stairs.

He scanned the room and pursed his lips. “H-hey.”

He was terrible at meeting new people. But that was the least of your concerns. You went up to him with an automatic smile on your face despite the circumstances and helped get his parka off.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, a car had tipped over on Maple street and it took forever for the fire engine to get there and I had to wait, baby, there were kids inside–”

“It’s ok.” You assured him with a smile, holding his face in your hands briefly, knowing you had an audience. An especially judgy one.

On that note, he approached the table with a smile and drew his arm across to the seated guests.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, I’m Jim–”

“Ms. Brown.” You mother corrected, eyeing him sharply. You went up behind him and rest your hand on his back, as a form of apology. You knew already you’d be doing a lot of that later.

“My apologies, Ms. Brown. And also for being late. It’s great to meet you.” You could hear the smile in his voice despite the curt way in which they shook his hand.

“Likewise, Jim.” Your father’s jaw clenched. “Now, shall we eat before you get called into duty again?”

Hopper forced a chuckle and you could hear it. He took his seat by you, not excusing himself to change out of his uniform or splash some water on his face like he usually did before dinner. He knew that no matter how much you mouthed off about them, there was still something there, and he respected that enough not to drag it out longer than it had to be and to take whatever they threw at him. It warmed your heart that he would do that for you, but at the same time, you wished he wouldn’t.

“It smells amazing, y/n.” Jim smiled on your right, squeezing your knee gently. You looked into his tired eyes and smiled back. He meant the world to you. Would they ever see that?

“Do you cook, Jim?” Asked your father as he served himself some vegetables, beating you to it. You sighed and served the potatoes to your mother, yourself and Jim.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Brown–thank you, sweetheart–unless you count microwave dinners.” He laughed in that deep, rumbling voice as he scooped some potatoes onto his spoon.

“I don’t.” Snapped your father, watching him intently as he chewed. “So this is what your … relationship is like? My daughter cooks for you and you don’t even help out–”

“I like cooking for him.” You interrupted, making louder noises with the cutlery than needed. You used to get reprimanded for that too.

Jim gently rubbed your thigh. “I meant to get here earlier, but my job–”

“So if God forbid something happened to y/n late at night, you’d be on Maple street, correct?”

“I bet you’d love if something happened to me, wouldn’t you, mom?” You hissed, stuffing your mouth with the potatoes. They were overcooked. Damn it.

“Please don’t be a martyr, y/n.” She scoffed.

“How could I be when you steal the show, mom?” You snapped and watched her jaw drop. That had never happened before.

“Y/n! That is not how you speak to your mother. Apologize.” You could see the perspiration on your father’s forehead already, and the next level would be his vein throbbing. Some part of you wanted to push him further.

“No, I’m good. Honey, could you pass the ham?” You asked Hopper, and it took him a second to blink and realize you were talking to him. He did as asked with a slight frown as he watched you closely.

You could feel your father’s eyes burn holes through you a while longer before he wordlessly returned to his dinner. You’d nailed the ham. That Jacques Pepin really knew what he was doing.

“If we knew this was how it was going to be, we’d never had flown up.” Your father said passive-aggressively, attacking the poor ham with his knife. “Thought we could just visit our daughter for Christmas …”

“Don’t pretend like that’s all you’re here for, dad.” You rubbed your fingers over your eyes, feeling moisture come back.

“Well, of course, it’s not! We paired you up with the most perfect man!” He exploded, and you were surprised he could hold it in for as long as he did. Of course, he would bring up the lowest point in your life.

“Oh, Gerald?” You scoffed, watching his vein pop. Hopper shifted uncomfortably, arms ready to interrupt if it came to that. He knew everything about your past.

“Yes, Gerald! He went to Yale! He’s going to be a doctor, y/n.” Your father cried, eyebrows furrowed in a rage. Like you had stabbed him in the back. Your mind imploded with the overwhelming memories and seemed to grip at your chest painfully. You could feel another attack coming.

“He … hurt me.” Your voice cracked, and Jim’s arm came around your shoulders.

“So you say!” Your mother dropped her cutlery, leaning forward in a rage. “He is a good boy but of course you would find faults with him, y/n–”

“He hurt me …” you gasped for breath as your voice quivered, feeling the tears track down your face. “ … every. Day.” Jim’s other arm had come around your front and held you tight, but somehow it made you feel better. The weight on your chest was getting lighter with his touches, as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“Oh, I remember the lies, y/n. And that you ran away. And all for what? Him?” Your father spat, pointing at Hopper. His arms around you froze, and you followed.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve marred the Brown family name? Dating a damn divorcee who’s twice your age in the middle of Godforsaken nowhere?” He rasped, as his entire face turned red.

“What do you want me to do, dad?” You pleaded, throwing him another lifeline. You were stupid to hope, but that was who you were. “You want me to leave the man who loves me for who I am and finally makes me happy and go back to the one you two approve of? Even if he beats me up?”

You gazed at your parents through tears with a sincere question, still waiting like a fool for them to prove you right.

“Gerald would never do that.” Your father sighed, cleaning his glasses to the end of the table cloth, before looking up at you. There was nothing behind those eyes. “But, yes.”

And there it was.

You knew the moment you’d received that phone call that was the reason they were flying down. Not to check on their younger daughter who couldn’t do anything right with her life, or wouldn’t stay with the abuser her own parents had chosen for her right out of college to marry. But still, you dreamed that they were coming to see how you were doing, to meet Jim and maybe playfully threaten him to take care of you or to tell you that no matter what choices you made or who you were, that they were with you. That they loved and supported you.

You scoffed, realizing that that moment was the final nail in the coffin. You had long abandoned your dream of seeking your parents’ approval, but this was the end. You’d found a new dream already, and Jim would not make you chase him or point out your flaws. And you were completely and gratefully in love with him. And that was enough.

You gazed up at his face, at his still tired eyes and haphazard hair, but also at the overwhelming love in his eyes as he asked you repeatedly if you were alright. He was more than enough.

You smiled at him before turning back to them.

“Well, if I’m such a dishonor to the family name, maybe I shouldn’t have it anymore.” You said, straightening up in your seat as Hopper released you, but still kept his hand on your chair.

They looked up at you slowly, until they said almost at the same time, “What?”

“You heard me. And I think you should get going before the snow comes in.” You pulled your chair back and stood to your feet, watching them expectantly.

They seemed confused, and stared up at you with slack jaws until he said, “You’re kicking us out?”

“Perceptive aren’t you, father?” You mocked, and that seemed to do it. They hastily got to their feet and shuffled around to the hallway, grumbling as they put their coats on.

“You remember this moment when you turned your own family away, y/n. When you come begging back to us.”

“Jim treats me more like family than you two ever did. And if I do come back, it’ll be as Y/N Hopper.” You said, before closing the door after them. Their startled faces were etched into your mind as you walked back into the kitchen, wiping the remnant tears from your face.

“Honey?” Jim called hesitantly from behind you but paused in the kitchen when he saw you at the counter, throwing your apron on.

“You promised you’d help, Chief. Get your apron,” You smiled at him warmly through the tears as you uncovered the half mixed cake batter in the bowl. Hopper cautiously threw the apron on as he watched you, washing your hands before dousing them into the yellow batter.

“I’m sure we have a whisk, sweetheart.” He said, tucking some loose hair behind your ears.

“No, it’s better this way,” you smiled like you didn’t just cut off ties with your parents.

“You wanna talk about it?” Hopper asked in as gentle a voice as he could, eyeing the raisins in a bowl. He didn’t like raisins in his cake.

“I’m good. Could you pass the vanilla, please?” You asked, pointing your eyes to the small vial by the oven. He did as you asked, and you could still feel his eyes on him.

“The raisins, too.” You asked, but Jim didn’t spring into action this time. You entered a staredown, one where you looked at him expectantly, and he pleaded with his eyes. You gave in with a chuckle. He could be so adorable sometimes.

“Alright, but just this once.” You conceded, and he hovered behind you, laying a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your hair this time. You paused the mixing and sighed, smiling as his arms wrapped around you again. That one ounce of doubt disappeared when you were in his arms again, and bliss replaced it.

“I love you too,” you declared, turning your face to kiss him. Jim was chaste this time and let you off with a peck, lending that moment more gooey-ness than the batter. And it only increased when he slid his fingers down your arms and into the bowl, kneading along with you.

“What are you doing?” You chuckled, leaning back into him. He was your pillar in more ways than one. You were grateful for him every day, starting with the day you’d met him at the newspaper office when he’d wanted some ‘intel’. You’d found out days later that it was all made up and the only reason he was there, was for you.

“Helping.” He hummed, kissing your cheek as his fingers intertwined with yours and straightened out the batter, and Jim Hopper was kind enough to lend the same favor to you.

And that was more than enough.

J.

[arraley]

Overhaul x fem!Reader Part One: Not only Heroes need attention

Welcome! Apparently you stumbled upon my very first FanFic EVER. Thank you very much for stopping by I appreciate it. As you can see, this is just Part One. This part ddoes not contain any smut... yet. In future parts there will defnitely hard smut going down but i got carried away with telling what´s going on. Please be easy on my language as english is not my mothertongue. Also for the convienience of my story Eri does basically NOT exist here. I know kinda shitty of me but I didn´t want to write strong Angst or about the child abuse. I love Overhaul though and think he is an incredible interesting villain and deserves more attention. I want to try to reflect him as good as I can and stay true to him but also be ablee to make him get a relationship with the reader at some point. So please enjoy this way too long introduction! Part Two will be started soon but will need time to come down. Constructive Criticsm would be amazing! 

Warnings: 

fem!Reader, Blood/gore, hospital themes, Bullying, sexual offence at work ( you have a disgusting coworker), sexist behaviour, villains and heroes, moral conflicts

Art: Fanart made by me

“It's just some smallfry villain, don´t worry about that and tend to my wounds first, I have to get back to my patrol soon, so hurry and get to your work.” the bearded man in front of you growled lowly and snapped his fingers right before your face loudly. His action made you wince for a mere second and your searching eyes found his intense stare. The heavy judgement in his dark blue eyes laid upon you, making you drop your chin, trying to avoid his gaze and rather looking at your comfy white sneakers as you started to gather the materials you needed for your work. Clamps, disinfectant spray, bandages, needle and thread, gloves for your and your patient's safety and so on. This was your everyday life and the thing you loved to do. Observing the human body and it's habits, treating sick and hurt people with everything you got no matter how desperate their situation is, tending to wounds, healing. Biology and chemistry, the way cells behave in a different environment and towards different substances, how they could change just by adding some other atoms. You chose this lifestyle early on in your life, loving to play nurse and doctor when you were a little kid. As a young child you had started reading medical texts already, looking at pictures of organs and the human body, it's in- and outside, that would disturb other children with the biggest interest, caring for other kids that hurt themselves on the playground when they fell during a play of catch without being afraid of blood. When you were a young teenager you practically devoured the knowledge in a rapid speed and soon the teachers couldn't answer your questions anymore. Skipping entire school years cause you were much more advanced than others you started asking well known Doctors difficult questions via EMail, writing to professors over the entire world just to quench your hunger for knowledge. In this period your brain might as well have been a sponge, soaking every bit of information up. Nothing could stop you from achieving your dream. And in a world filled to the brim with powers, a world ruled by villains and heroes, where everybody participated to the utmost and had their purpose, mostly well fitting to the Quirk they called their own it was not easy to stand out. 

Well, somehow you managed though and here you were. In this clean hospital room, smelling strongly like desinfectives, with a grumpy hero and a villain that was barely conscious, who had obvious bruises and bleedings, who moaned and winced in pain, leaned against a wall which would not be the same snowhite as before, now stained with red blood and dirt. Obviously the bad guy was much worse hurt, maybe even in a critical condition considering his chest was rising and lowering in an unstable pattern. Yet, your duty was to heal the hero first, who had just a small cut on his lower arm that was barely bleeding. The priority is to keep those healthy who protect lives. They come first, they are the pier that keep society stable. It was the first harsh rule that got drilled into your head when you had started out in a hospital that specialized on treating people that were involved in the mess between good and evil. Here only Heroes, Villains and civilians that were caught in those battles and got hurt in the process were treated. It was not only one of the biggest institutions of its kind, also it's reputation was the best. Actually you were honored to have a job in this hospital considering your current situation. 

Still, you could not just ignore the person in obvious pain behind you and you held back shortly before you started the first step of treatment on the hero's arm. The villain´s  labored breathing gave you a splitting headache and your fingers trembled as old memories creeped up in the back of your mind and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Slowly exhaling through your nose you locked your (E/C) eyes with the hero's eyes in front of you again. “Excuse me Sir.” you stated in a polite and soft tone, your voice sounding oddly echoey in the room “I think this person over there needs the first aid much more than you right now and I ask you to hold out a little longer, please.” With that you turned on your heel and immediately bent down to help the small man on the ground, checking his pulse and vitals. The villain had  small figure making his dirty and blood stained clothes seem slack on his body. His face being so contorted you were sure some bones were broken. Blood was running out of his nose constantly making the word concussion appear in your head right away. Though his entire body was shaking and his right arm looked awfully dislocated you carefully patted his shoulder trying to get his attention “Sir, it will be alright, I am gonna give you something against the pain and then check on your wounds, please tell me if you feel any deterioration of your current state. I need to check for internal bleeding and…” before you could continue the standard medical explanation to your patient a gigantic hand smashed brutally right next to your head against the wall. The force was so strong that the plaster fell partially off the wall and sank down like little snowflakes.

The vibration of the smash ran through all the walls of the room. In spite of the bad feeling that was rumbling in your stomach you turned your head carefully to the left, eyes travelling along the muscular arm until you could see the face of the furious hero. The dark blue eyes shined dangerously, the mustache of the man shaking along to the vibrations he had sent through the room. “A vibration quirk? Or just power enhancement?” it shot through your head before the hero opened his mouth: “How dare you little Missy? I am a hero and I just caught this villain as he tried to rob a general store. It's my right to get treated by you so I can continue saving people who obviously cannot help themselves. People that are weak… like you” he spat out the last words like venom and you could feel the heat radiating from him. Everything, his eyes, his pose, his tone was intimidating to your small figure.

Anyone else would have ducked their head and mumbled an humble apology, as the impressive hero tried to talk down to you and your unthankfulness. But you were not anyone. The older man couldn´t know that those words started an old fire that burned in your veins and neither of you would have expected that you´d glare right back at him and stating in a low but sarcastic tone:”Well, I like heroes like everyone, but only if they don´t cry about a little cut like certain people in this room and are obviously having violent tendencies. A general store you say? For that you hurt a person that much? A hero should be able to contain safety without going totally overboard, beating a person so much up. Shouldn´t you try to save villains as well and if it's just from themselves? Aren't they humans either? People that just lost their way? What do you know about this person, why he robbed this store? Do you know any of his reasons? And don´t tell me you had to break nearly every single of his bones to get him cuffed up. You just enjoyed beating him up didn't you? I am sure you did go extra hard on him after the press showed up right? Isn't that so? What a nice hero you are!” you snapped, ending your monologue pretty loudly and standing your ground in front of the hero. Shoulders were rising and falling with every heavy breath you took, fists clenched tightly, fingernails pressing into your palm until it hurt. Your legs were trembling of pure anger you felt rushing through your veins but as reality slowly settled back in for you as you looked him yet again straight in the surprised eyes, it came to you how rude you just had been, your own eyes widened and gasping loudly you put your quivering hands in front of your mouth keeping it shut tightly. Somehow you knew that you just really screwed it up. 

Just one day later your worries became reality as your supervisor, nobody less than the boss of the clinic called you to his office. When you stepped in you could already feel the air being thick and heavy as the tall man with shiny grey hair, strict facial features and orange eyes fuming in anger. Sitting straight and neatly in his expensive leather chair and his hands laying next to each other on the table you felt like a lamb going willingly into the lion's cave signing it´s own fate. Gulping heavily you sat down on the small chair in front of his massive oak desk. Pressing your legs together and throwing your ankles over one another you pressed your palms together against your stomach looking at your hands. The knuckles slowly turning white from the pressure you put onto them. You hadn't looked him in the eyes once yet, since you had entered and screwed them shut now as he slapped his hand on the tabletop in front of him loudly making you shrink together on your chair like a schoolgirl about to get scolded. Well, the situation was very similar to be honest. 

The boss was not necessarily a bad man but he ran the clinic and there was a lot of competition in Musutafu. Still he had managed to make the clinic one of the biggest ones of its kind and the reputation was great among heroes. All the bigger names, even some from the Top Ten, came there for regular check ups or after longlasting fights to get their wounds treated. Regularly the media tried to get glimpse of a hero or villains coming into the hospital. How he achieved it was clear: marketing, discipline, hard work and most importantly leading all the other doctors, who all wanted a piece of his cake, with an iron fist. That were the ingredients to his recipe of pure success. But now you had strayed from the given path and he did not take that well. 

“I took you in cause I really thought you have potential Y/N.” he began with a low tone that was laced with his anger. “It's really rich of you that you apparently try to ruin the hard earned reputation of my clinic with your childish ideas and wishes. What is the first thing I had taught you myself? Care to repeat the very first thing I taught you after giving you the internship and possibility to work as a real doctor when nobody else was interested in a quirkless healer?” Because of his harsh words you couldn´t stop the tears that started building up. Yes, it was true you were quirkless. One of the rare 20% of the world population. But why was everyone just seeing that? You are only 19 and already finished your medical degree, an upcoming doctor. In fact you had the best grades of one of the best medical schools in Japan. You had been above those that had quirks that could close fleshwounds, stimulate nerves or excite the immune system of a person. But that had not stopped you from treating people and making great advances in biology coming up with great hypotheses that could change the view on the human body despite it having a quirk or not. Yet, barely anybody paid interest in you and your abilities and your behaviour was a problem too. Too nice, too empathic, too calm, not business enough. That was what the boss had tried to always get out of you since you started one and a half year ago and this was already the second time you slipped. The first time had been a similar inconvenience where you denied treatment to a proclaimed local hero you had judged as too harsh in their behaviour towards law breakers. If you couldn't convince your boss now he would get rid of you and then it was over for you. But that also meant to betray your ideals and hopes…

“We...I-i… Heroes come first.” you gulped out and saying this turned your stomach around and made you feel sick. He hummed in appreciation of you remembering his lectures and his fingers drummed on the table. Something he would do when he was nervous or in thought. “Very right little One. Listen Y/N. I like you and your abilities. For someone in your position you do a good job. I could start preaching now about how much nonsense your view on this matter is and what consequences your disobedient behaviour can have for you but I am sure you understand your place. This is the very last time I hear of any kind of incident like this. I will let every other doctor have an eye on you. One more slip of yours and you are out, understood?” he ended coldly and waited for your response. Standing up you bowed slightly and mumbled a ´Thank You Sir´ before leaving the room in a trancelike state. Outside of his room you steadied yourself against the wall and your breath came out in shaky bits. Just now you realized how much your body was truly trembling and the tears that stained your cheek. So close. You were so close to losing your job but some lucky star prevented it. No matter what would happen now, you could not allow your feelings to get the better of you anymore.  

 It was too dangerous for your future, the future you had tried to build up so desperately. You wanted to help people so badly, good or bad but if you would continue this you had no chance to make this a reality. Tightening your shoulders and standing up straight you breathed in and out several times and tried to slow down your fast beating heart by irrationally putting your hand on your sternum rubbing the skin slightly until it was a bit reddened. 

As you didn´t want to linger around in front of your boss's office longer than necessary you walked slowly away from it, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your white doctor coat, your white sneakers squeaking a little bit on the light grey linoleum floor, while passing some of the room high windows that showed the wonderful skyline of the big city on this warm summer day. As the boss´s office was high up in the skyscraper like clinic you had an iconic overview over the metropole. The sky was colored in a beautiful bright blue, some white fluffy clouds and the sunshine rays reflected on several roofs of the city blinding the eyes of the viewer. Musutafu was full of life with hundreds of cars dashing through the streets, pedestrians rushing on the sidewalks and in between some cyclists. High above the scenery you could see a plane or helicopters flying through the sky like a bird. If you were lucky you could even see some winged heroes dash through the air like the current number two. Your eyes travelled down and you were faced with your own reflection in the glossy window. Looking at your reflection you could not really decide if you hated what you saw or were happy with it. Under your doctor's coat you wore the typical white pants and a pink shirt, indicating you were allowed to practice and take shifts on your own but were also still in training. You definitely were on the smaller side and your normally shoulder long (H/C) hair was tied together in a rather messy ponytail swinging behind your head with every motion. The roundly shaped face and soft features gave you a young and fresh look, your (E/C) eyes making you look incredibly friendly and slightly innocent behind the thick glasses you had to wear as your eyesight was ridiculously bad. Honestly it was as if mother fate decided that it was not unfair enough already that you hadn't been born like 80% of humanity´s population. Without the extra strong glasses you could barely see the outline of people and were absolutely helpless. The world was an absolute blur for your bare eyes. The thought made you blow up your cheeks a little giving your expression a cute pout. Nobody close by had a quirk that could heal your bad eyesight so far or they weren´t specified for your case in general. But it didn't matter, you just put it as another point on your to-find-a-cure-list of diseases and sickness in the world. Probably the only selfish thing you wanted to do in your life. Sighing you looked yourself in the eyes and palmed your cheek with the warmed up hand from your pocket facing your fate.

Yes, you would be a good one now and do everything as your boss told you to do, so you could achieve your goals. 

Three weeks have passed since the “talk” you and your boss had and the situation had calmed down a bit but still wasn't necessarily pleasant for you. One of the doctor´s you really hated and couldn´t respect at all had his eyes on you like a hawk from now on. He never had taken you seriously anyway, making sexual advances towards you, telling you regularly to give up and just become a nice and passive little wife as that is all that you were good for. He made you sick to the core but you could do nothing to stop him as he was the shining star of the hospital and good friends with the boss. So you decided to just eat his unnecessary comments and silently compete with him. As your abilities were clearly superior and he knew it as well as you did, you assumed that this is where his insecure behaviour and belittling of you came from.

 Because of this it was no surprise that, as you came out of the restroom after a short break in your night shift, you saw him leaning against the wall close by leisurely. His blonde hair was slickly tamed with shiny gel, his teeth were blinding white, the jawline sharp, his face and toned body like one of a greek god´s depiction. Many females in the hospital were dreaming about the pretty and charming doctor from a foreign country but you only got the bad kind of goosebumps when his striking blue eyes ogled you as if you belonged to him. You ignored his gaze blankly and tried to pass him, your head held high, but before you could he grabbed your wrist firmly and made you stop in your track. The smell of expensive aftershave surrounded you and the thick scent made you feel dizzy. Although you were normally a lovely and nice person, trying to accept everyone as they are, you could barely stand Trevor. You knew how it was to not be accepted by society and looked down at and he didn't make that situation any better for you. Unwillingly you looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, tugging your wrist back as a silent request to leave you alone. His wolfish grin only grew wider and his grab on your wrist strengthened nearly painfully. You were pretty sure you´d find a bruise the next day on the same spot. 

“Well, hello there pretty child. Still pretending to be a doctor I see? When will you finally give this up and date me? You'd make a pretty pretty little maid for me (Y/N). Why don´t you finally realize submission is a release for someone like you?” he cooed into your ear leaning uncomfortably close into your private zone. The degradation coming with his words made your blood rush into your ears and you gritted your teeth violently. You could feel your own pulse fastening rapidly and the acid in your stomach rise up from poor anger. Yes, you really tried to be accepting and you had taken a lot of bullying in your life already, let alone for being quirkless. But his words stung worse than a hornet´s bite. And yet you couldn't fight him back as you feared the consequences. Being on thin ice already it was basically impossible to do anything against him as he could doom you easily. Also it was rough for you to blow a fuse. Being loud or putting people into their place was not necessarily your strongest trait. On rare occasions you suddenly had the courage to stand up, like two weeks ago. When a patient's life was on the line it came much more natural to you to get loud and fight for one's rights.  But normally you were too timid to act on your emotions as they came creeping up on you especially if it was about your own well being. And when it came to the old feeling of being bullied by someone in a stronger position you did tend to let them do with you as they pleased, functioning as a cheap punching bag.

“Please, let go I need to return to the emergency room” you mumbled trying to loosen his grip on you and rushed away. After long nights in the E.R. lately, the punishment for your slip up, you have had barely any sleep leaving you with barely any energy left and the situation was getting to you even more than it usually would have. You felt as if you were at the verge of tears and you felt your bottom lip trembling which made Trevor break out in a cruel laughter. 

“Naw, look at you all cute and calm. I like them like that.” he marked cockily and pushed you closer to his body but before panic could settle in both of your radio message receivers beeped obnoxiously loud leading to him finally letting you go. Giving his device a little side look he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, showing his arm muscles off in the process. “See you later little birdie, duty calls!”. With that he confidently walked away leaving you behind, disgusted but also relieved nothing more happened. Supporting yourself on the wall you shook your head in disbelief of the scene that just had played out and with shaky hands you looked at your receiver. Apparently the emergency room needed you back at your spot so you breathed deeply in, stiffened your shoulders you jogged along the hallways to the emergency room. And that is when hell broke loose for you and your life. 

The E.R. consisted of a big room on the bottom floor of the building with a comfy waiting area for the patients that weren't as badly injured and close family members that had brought them there. As the sofas were made out of brown leather with big pillows to support ones back and smaller birchwood tables with the newest magazines about fashion, health and heroes in front of them it gave the room a kind of living room atmosphere with a speck of green in form of some plants in the corners of the room. There were several smaller examination rooms, all equipped with the highest quality and newest technological devices to guarantee the best care for patients. It didn't matter how severe the cases were, that were delivered by the ambulance into the emergency room, the quick and precise work everyone did here, nurses as well as doctors was evident due to  the high survival rate of critical conditions. Even on days with a high visitor frequency there was a certain organization and tidiness required and present in the ambulance. That's why the current state of the normally busy but organized area confused you even more. 

There was a gigantic mess in the emergency room which was quite fascinating for the fact that it was four a.m. in the early morning. Even in this big and lively city most people were asleep by now but apparently that hadn't stopped these people from making a chaos out of the clinic's E.R. in a short matter of time. Still standing in the entrance you looked with big eyes at the scenario that unfolded in front of you:

The five nurses were cowering in the back of the ambulance in a cluster of people with clear confusion and a hint of fear in their eyes. Two of them even supported each other, clearly unsure of what was happening or how to behave right now. In the middle of the E.R. Trevor was standing, his hands on his hips and a condescending look on his face. Everywhere around him and the nurses were papers flattering around or laying on the ground, most of them being sheets patients had to answer about personal data, allergies, insurances and so on. Your eyes followed the direction in which Trevor was looking at and the first thing you realized was the dark red color splattered across the mint green tile floor which reflected the blinding light of the ceiling, which led from the entrance area to the middle of the room. As you tilted your head the metallic smell of copper hit your sensitive nostrils and you realized with your tired brain that you were looking at blood. A lot of blood. Following the puddles of the red liquid with your eyes you saw three pairs of shoes standing in the biggest puddle yet and you raised your eyes up the legs of three men that dominated the ambulance with their presence. As you saw them your eyes widened even more than before. Calling their outfits and behaviour suspicious would have been an understatement. Normally you wouldn't easily judge people but everything about them screamed villain. 

The man standing in their middle, who seemed heavily injured was very tall and had an immensely toned body. Everything about this male seemed to be hard muscles. He easily was several heads taller than you and his hands looked as if he could crush heads like juicy watermelons. Though his hands were covered by sturdy metallic gauntlets, held together by some thick leather stripes, his outfit itself was quite unspectacular besides that, the only thing that really was outstanding next to his black combat trousers, boots and the sky blue button-up shirt that was hanging loosely around his hips as it was tucked into his pants was his former white Polo Shirt which was drained in dark liquid, more blood, you assumed. There was barely a white speck left on the shirt and it seemed like there was still more blood flowing with each second that passed by. You frowned when you realized that his face was hidden behind a full-covering black mask, which kinda reminded you of a killer whale with a bird´s beak, that allowed his wild and messy orange-red hair to stick out in the back. His head was hanging low and his breathing labored but he still mumbled some incoherent words which you weren't able to understand from this distance. 

The wild looking man was being held upright by two other, smaller men flanking his left and right, each one having one of his arms around his shoulders to support him and his shaky legs. As the one to the left was quite smaller than him, his outfit seemed a bit more interesting. The traditional looking dark grey yukata which was held together by a white cloth that was functioning like a belt and his simple light brown leather boots seemed a bit outdated which was fitting though to his calm facial expression you could make out as he was wearing a mask as well, but in comparison to his other two companions did not cover up his eyes. Three dark brown stripes that were going around the sides of his head and were covering his ears as well as one that went in between his eyebrows into his spikey blonde hair held his bird beak like mask in place. The mask itself was a simple dark brown leather and the beak was bent towards the ground slightly. Sadly you couldn't make out his eyes as he seemingly kept them close giving him a look as if he was meditating.

To the injured man´s right stood a man or woman in a long white trench coat and sturdy black leather boots peeking out underneath it. The inside of the hood was a wine red which strangely complimented the full face covering mask the person was wearing. The mask itself consisted of a dark brown leather beak which was framed by a golden metal and where you assumed their eyes to be were some outstanding black goggles. 

The two supporters were panting heavily, most likely as they mostly had to carry their big friend as he was barely able to stand himself let alone walk. You shook your head in disbelief. If they really were villains they were the first ones that had the guts to actually enter this hospital. Normally villains that came here were accompanied by the heroes who beat them in a fight and let them patch up here before bringing them to the police or the prison. It was unheard of villains coming into the hospital and the rules said that villains coming in alone should be reported straight away for the safety of the personnel and heroes that were in treatment and not strong enough to do anything against a villain attack. But this hasn't occured in all the time you worked here nor in the history of the hospital. Taking some steps forward so you stood next to Trevor you asked:” What's going on in here?” your voice sounding much more curious than scared. One of the nurses took a step forward and exclaimed:” These people are here cause they want medical attention but they seemed sketchy so we asked Mr. Hendersson to help us” and gave your least favourite person in the room a shy smile, who didn't even give her any attention. Frowning you turned to her and let out an annoyed sigh. For these nights you were the executive doctor for the E.R. and not Trevor and the nurses knew this. Most of them worked with you and accepted you but they did not respect you so it was obvious why they had called your nemesis in though he shouldn't have a say in this. 

“And I just asked these thugs to leave our hospital. They are dirtying the floor and pollute the air with their villainous presence” Trevor spat out aggressively and crossing his arms in front of his chest staring at the three men with a raised eyebrow. The hooded figure raised his head:”This is a hospital isn't it? We aren´t belonging to some lowlife villains so don´t worry about that. Just start some treatment our friend here has taken some beating and requires medical help. We will reward you of course” a male voice which was calm but slightly laced with exhaustion probably due to carrying the bigger male. Looking at the three men you tried to assess the situation quickly. With how much and how rapidly the man was losing blood you were sure he wouldn't be able to walk out of here and get somewhere else to get a proper treatment. Even though he was constantly mumbling something and trying to move around and stand straight his head plopped down from time to time onto his chest. Following your instinct you licked your lips and approached the suspicious trio. “I will help your friend, just bring him to examination room two and put him on his back onto the examination table.” The hooded figure gave you a short and what you assumed to be thoughtful look before he nodded shortly and started dragging his friend along before Trevor stood in their way. 

“One moment! You won't do that (Y/N). Are you out of your mind? We aren't helping some rats from the street. Just look at them.” He turned swiftly towards you and glared at you but as soon as he saw your determined face a small smile played around his features. Like a predator he came towards you and leaned down to your ear so only you could hear him which made your entire body go stiff:”Don't tell me you plan to go against the hospital rules...again. Seriously you really are only a pretty face and no brain are you? You do realize that I will tell the boss everything about this right? As soon as you go in there with these guys I will give him a call and tell him how little quirkless you is willingly treating some thugs in his precious little hospital. How you went against my word…” His big hand came up and layed heavy on your shoulder gripping it tightly under your coat and shoving you forcefully even a bit closer to him. “You will be fired (Y/N) and then what? I will ruin your reputation. I will tell everyone how bad you are. Heh, though maybe thats only good for you and I can give you some money to finally get you into my bed cause that's the only thing you will be good for then.” His warm breath washed over your ear and you let his words sink in. If you were by any means selfish you would call the police right now, tell them to leave and let this guy bleed out. You would continue your career and then what? Live with the shame to not have done what you believe in. Just working for the fame of being a good little doctor in a well known clinic. Just for the price of blowing all your morals into the wind…

Snap. Like a red thread under too much tension

The next thing you knew was how Trevor stumbled backwards holding his face and yelling out in surprise. One of the nurses screamed in terror but was fastly shushed by one of her colleagues who feared that attention could be drawn to them but you barely paid them any mind. Blood was flooding out of the doctor´s nose like a cascade and you watched in awe how his normally beautiful shaped face was crunched together in pain and covered in red. You looked down at your fist which was now bruised and covered in red stains as well. You arm was trembling and your breathing was going uneven, your heartbeat going several miles per hour. The thoughts ran like a wildfire through your brain. Yes, you had just punched your superior. Closing your eyes you tried to steady yourself. Apparently you had chosen your morals over your job. Now you could go all the way till the bitter end. The trembling in your limbs stopped and you looked at Trevor with a stern face. Both of your eyes met and he halted in his movement just staring back and for the first time you felt something like an ascendent feeling towards the normally superior male. “I will go and treat my patients now” you exclaimed with a soft voice stepped forward to the examination room nodding to the hooded male, who had watched the scene unfold in front of him and his friends, motioning him to come along. You held the door open for him and the others and closed it behind them. While the two heaved the big one onto the examination table you washed Trevors blood of your hands, dried them and put on gloves. Taking a deep breath you put on a professional face and turned swiftly around to them, coming over to the table and start several electrical devices, like a heart rate monitor which you would need during the examination and connected your patient to them. His vital function were stable but barely so. His heart rate was a bit to high but all in all he wasn't in a as worrisome state as you originally thought. His body was tone, he was in a great shape so he could take the blood loss, it probably just had made him dizzy but if you treated the wound fast enough he wouldn't need a transfusion of blood. Carefully you lifted his shirt and frowned at the big wound obviously caused by a sharp object. Carefully cleaning around the wound you quickly observed that the wound would need several stitches which would definitely leave a scar. Speaking softly to your patient you explained the situation and what was about to happen to him but he seemed to struggle slipping in and out of consciousness trying to talk. Regarding your caring nature you didn't want to ignore him so you leaned closer to his ear:”Excuse me Sir what?”. Just in that moment he jerked up, snatching your arm. Eyes widening in shock you gasped in pain as his grip had a bone breaking energy behind it for a man that was barely conscious. “Fight Me!” he yelled out before coughing violently. His two friends said both clearly annoyed to let you go and stepped forward to help you loosen his death grip on you but you just motioned them with your other hand to stop and with apparent confusion in their face. Valuing his behaviour and statement real quick and considering his outfit, the gauntlets on his arm and his strong body you were sure you had it do do with a man that never goes down, fighting till the last, which was what you had to play against him. You faced your violent patient and leaned towards his gigantic masked figure:”If you don´t let go right now there will never be an opportunity to fight ever again. You want to go like this? A pathetic stab wound? Not going down in a literal fight but because of the aftermath? Let me help you fight again… please.” 

Even though you concentrated your eyes on the giant man in front of you, you could feel the gaze of the other men in the room upon you and the air felt heavy enough to make you lick your lips.Very slowly the warm and giant hand of the man slipped down your arm and he kept calm. If it was because he lost conscious again it wasn't being able to be seen in his body language or his vital signs. You swallowed down the saliva that had built up in your mouth, got the sterilized needle and threat as well as the disinfectant spray and started working on the wound. Except the moving of his abs nothing indicated the pain he must have felt while you were giving him his stitches. The examination room was quite while you worked quickly and in the end covering the freshly treated wound with big band aid that covered the entire thing. Exhaling the air out of your lungs shakily and got rid of your blood stained gloves, washing your fingers under the cold stream of water at the little sink. Behind you one of the men cleared his throat so you turned around to him looking at the hooded man. His mask did not allow you to see his eyes which highly started to get on your nerves a little bit and just started talking before he could say anything:” He is okay but will need rest. After that  little incident I assume you will have to bind him to his bed or something along those lines to make him rest. So do it. The band aid covering the wound needs to be changed daily, at least. Be careful or it will infect and that would be very dangerous, okay?” you explained in your most professional tone. The hooded man just cocked his head slightly and nodded:”We will be on our way now before things get ugly here.” and you nodded in agreement frantically. Dark thoughts washed over you though. You should probably pack your things as well. Turning the door handle of the examination room you swung it open just to be washed over by a smell of a strong, expensive smelling cologne and you were faced with something metallic appeared right in front of your face which made you stop in your motion immediately. Your widened eyes followed the metallic piece in front of you upwards until you looked at a pair of amber colored eyes paired with long lashes which stared right back at you in a hypnotic matter. Calling you startled at this point was a massive underestimation. Taking a sharp breath the smell washed even stronger over you and made you feel dizzy. It was different from Trevor´s disgusting odor. This was a masculine and strong smell with a dark note, which made you crave for more as it was dominating your senses. Flattering your lashes you shook your head to clear your thoughts and you swallowed heavily. This was paired with a heat that emanated from its source towards you. 

“Excuse me, Doctor.” Shaking your head slightly you pressed your eyelids together and looked down trying to collect your thoughts. This man's voice was deep and elegant coming over you like a relaxing wave shaking you up to your inner core. Carefully raising your head you allow yourself to take his look in. 

His short and umber colored hair looked thick and well taken care of, shining in the bright hospital lights. The skin of this man was light like ash wood and absolutely clean of any impurities. As you had discovered before his eyes were framed by beautiful long lashes, topped with sharply arched eyebrows and his iris was of a full golden color even though you realized that his eyes held something cold and calculating in them. Sadly you couldn't see the bottom of his face because it was covered by a deep black medical face mask fitting the black button up shirt paired up with the white tie and black slacks he wore which ended right above his ankles. The feet were covered by some simple white sneakers which were remarkably clean. You realized the gloves on his hands which were similar to the surgeon gloves you wore here all the time. 

Not sure how much time had passed since you had started taking his appearance in your cheeks flushed and you cleared your throat in embarrassment as you realized his raised eyebrow and the condescending look he gave you. “Yes, how can I help you?”. Was your voice always this raspy? Looking over your head he frowned for a short moment and it wasn't a look on his face you really would ever want on you. 

“I believe my men have lost themselves here. The nurses informed me that you took care of them Miss (Y/L/N). I am here to pick them up and excuse the inconveniences they may have caused you.” Again. This incredible soothing voice. Slowly you nodded your head just to then frantically shake it. “No. No they… it was just unexpected. Ehm, I mean my boss probably isn't happy but it's okay I will find a solution I wouldn't just let your men down because they are v-... They are… ehm… They came here under special circumstances.” You ended your sentence after a lot of stutters and shakiness. He hummed as a response and considered you with another intense stare. Both of your eyes locked and you didn't back down even though it was intimidating to you and you felt the blood rush into your cheeks rapidly as well as your heart beat faster. “Let's go then.” he declared darkly and turned around to leave the hospital, his men squeezing past you, both of the healthy men supporting the patient and about to leave as they came. Staring after them you meekly stumbled into the main hall of the emergency room close after them but before you could say anything two other persons blocked the path to the outside of the hospital. You passed the group of four men and stood in front of them. Your boss and Trevor stood there, Trevor with a smug grin plastered on his face and your boss with a facade of pure anger. They didn't say anything. There was nothing that was needed to be said except the one word your boss said with so much venom in his voice that your entire body tensed up. “Out!”. 

Even though you had expected this after making your choice you didn't expect it to hurt so much. Just nodding you took off the doctor's coat you wore which belonged to the hospital and laid it down on the register counter then hurrying out of the emergency room. 

Once outside you breathed in the cold night air and let it fill your lungs. Your entire body was shaking and you didn't even realize that tears were slowly forming in your eyes. You had taken the risk and lost your job. It was a game over for you. Was it really worth it? Standing up for your morals to help some criminals? Wrapping your arms around your small figure you just stood there processing what had happened just now not hearing the footsteps closing up on you. “My men have told me what happened. Thanks for taking care of the situation. Can we help you out in any kind for the cooperation you helped us with?” The dark but stoic voice resonated behind you making you turn around on your heel with a small shriek looking at the tall man like a mouse looking at a cat. Your breast was heaving and your pulse was running several miles per hour. After recovering from your shock you took a step back from him, frowning:” Why would you give me anything? I am… I was a doctor. It is my job to help people.” you stated questioning. He blinked slowly while observing your face and he raising his hands with the palms to the heaven up in an opening and innocent motion. With a sigh he simply said:” In my business one hand washes the other. And I definitely don't like to owe someone anything. So I rather get this out of the way now than having to deal with it later.”. 

You nodded in agreement and looked down shyly. “I made it my job to help people whose life is on the line. Your friend was heavily injured and looked for help. My boss´ policy didn't go along with mine so this separation would have happened at some point anyway. I did not study medicine intensely to only care about the wellbeing of some heroes who think they can conquer the world.” Your last words came out much more bitter than you originally intended them to be and your eyes widened and you slapped your hands across your mouth. Not being able to help yourself you broke out in a nervous giggle and you looked at him in shock. “Just forget what I said. I am rambling. Just blurting out some things. I hope you have a good life and your friend will be well. Take good care.” you blurted out and turned around nearly running away through the dark city towards your apartment without looking back at the mysterious man. 

He just stood there for another moment looking after you with the same stoic expression. “Chrono.” he said with a stern tone feeling the presence of his right hand man right behind him. By now, him and Tengai should have loaded the hurt Rappa into the car he came with here. “Yes, Overhaul.” Chrono said calmly right next to him. The cold air of the upcoming colder season washed over the two men who were still standing on the sidewalk close to the hospital's emergency entrance. “First of all you will need to explain to me this disaster of tonight´s mission. Whoever is responsible for this better have a good excuse that I had to come through this pest filled town in the middle of the night. Second of all, you said this doctor is quirkless?” he asked his old childhood friend looking at him from the side. Chrono nodded:” Yes, I overheard it in that conversation she had with that other doctor who wanted to throw us out.”. 

Overhaul hummed and his golden eyes looked down the street where you had disappeared to. “Find out everything about her. She might be of use for our cause” he ordered Chrono who bowed slightly, following him into the car to drive back to the base. 

Your life would soon take a turn you had never expected.                

[agerefandom]

Safe and Sound (2.0)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Characters: Regressor!Stephanie, featuring Amethyst, Pearl, and Garnet as caregivers

Words: 2,000

Summary: A remix of this fic here but now featuring a transfem main character who goes by Stephanie or Stephie as a kiddo and uses she/her pronouns! Requested by anon. (Exact same story, just different name and pronouns!)

Warnings: Rose and Rose-centred feelings are mentioned, panic attacks, and quite a bit of anxiety.

Stephanie loved the beach house that she shared with the Gems. She loved the constant sound of the waves, and the calm glow of the warp pad at night. She loved the short and familiar walk to town, her comfortable bed, and the bathtub deep enough that she could submerge her whole body.

The only thing that Stephanie hated about her home was the lack of privacy.

Even when the Gems were away on a mission, they could warp back in at any given moment. At night, Amethyst often wandered in to get a midnight snack, and Stephanie was sure that Pearl still watched her sleep occasionally, even if she hadn’t caught her recently.

So when Stephanie wanted to regress, she had to plan ahead.

At first, she had retreated into her mother’s room, knowing that no one could access it while she was inside. But as soon as she stopped being careful about what she wished for, Rose was always there, stepping off a nearby cloud to collect her daughter into her arms. Stephie was happy to see her mother when she was little, playing and laughing and sharing her favourite stories. But at some point, Stephie always aged up, and Rose would change into a figure who was silent, and looming, and distant. Stephanie would retreat from the room feeling more exhausted than before, promising herself that she wouldn’t go in again.

Lion became Stephanie’s source of escape. She would pack a bag, hop on Lion’s back, and tell the Gems that she was spending the afternoon with Connie, or Ronaldo, or even Sadie. She had enough friends that the Gems never checked first, and then she had a whole day to spend in a field in Alberta, or Texas, or even France.

Lion would pace around the area while Stephie played, rumbling warnings at anyone who tried to approach. Stephie would run, and explore, and eventually sit down and cry until her throat hurt too much to continue. Often, Lion would come and curl against her while she cried, turning his head away to feign indifference as his tail wrapped around Stephie’s wrist.

Regression was only fun for a while, for Stephanie. Eventually, reality came crashing back in, harsher and bleaker in contrast to the bright innocent world she had inhabited for a few too-brief minutes.

Yet she came back to it again and again, not knowing a better way to escape the constant anxiety of her everyday life. She needed to forget about the most current threat to planet Earth, needed to forget about Pearl and Amethyst’s most recent fight. Needed to forget the guilt of walking in on her father crying over a picture of Rose.

Regression was a safe space like nothing else in her life was, ruled by uncertainty and continual attacks from outside and inside her family.

--

Eventually, it fell apart.

As Stephanie was expected on more missions, the Gems might need her at any moment. If Stephanie wasn’t where she said she’d be, then all hell would break loose as the Gems searched for her. She was scared that if it happened too many times, then the Gems would stop letting her leave with Lion at all.

So there was only one thing to do. Stephanie had to give up regression. There was no time or space for it in her life, she always needed to be available for Crystal Gem missions. It was alright that the others forgot she needed to sleep, needed to eat, needed to rest between missions spent running after corrupted gems.

Stephanie was a Crystal Gem now, and she needed to act like it. That meant no more running away to be a kid every so often.

Stephanie was going cold-turkey.

But of course, things didn’t really work out like that. Stephanie managed to hang on for two full months, hiding her panic attacks in the bathroom and trying not to fall asleep on the couch whenever she sat down.

At the start of the second month, Stephie woke up to the morning sun with tears already running down her face. Her clothes were too big on her, and her arms felt weak when she tried to move them.

Trying not to panic, Stephie looked down at herself and saw a young child’s body, twisted in the sheets and teenage-sized clothes that she’d slept in. She needed to shift back to normal-Stephanie before the Gems came out to see her!

But Stephie couldn’t stop sobbing, and however hard she concentrated, she couldn’t calm down enough to shift back to her usual size. Her failed attempts made her cry harder. What was she going to do? No one could see her like this!

Just as she was getting ready to truly panic, she heard the warp pad activate. Hurriedly throwing the covers over herself, Stephie tried to cry as quietly as possible.

The Gem’s voices were bright as they spread out across the house, Amethyst’s voice drifting towards the fridge as the others settled on the couch. Their mission must have gone well. Pearl sounded especially enthoused, but Stephie couldn’t make out the words through the pounding panic in her head. Any minute they would notice her, unless she kept absolutely still. She had to keep absolutely quiet, despite the way that her chest was spasming, and she couldn’t breathe, and she just wanted her paci-

“Stephanie.” Garnet’s voice drifted up from below Stephie, low and calm. “We’re home.”

Stephie twisted her fists into the blankets, making a renewed effort to calm her breathing. If Garnet thought something was wrong, she would know everything as soon as she thought to look. Stephie tried to make her voice sound normal, even though her body wasn’t cooperating.

“Oh, cool. I’m just having a n-nap.” Her voice hitched on the last word, and she froze under the covers. There was silence for a beat, and then Pearl’s voice murmured a question to Garnet, too quiet for Stephie to hear.

“What’s wrong, dude?” Amethyst broke right to the point, and Stephie could hear her coming towards the stairs. She curled tighter into the blankets, prepared to wrestle them away from Amethyst’s grasping hands. But she stopped at the bottom and called up to Stephie again. “Stephanie? Are you sick? If you’re gonna throw up, I wanna see!”

“Amethyst!” Pearl’s voice was sharp until she turned her attention to Stephie. “Stephanie, are you alright? Do you need some food?” Stephanie had snapped at her about needing to eat breakfast a few weeks ago, and she had taken to offering snacks at the first sign of Stephanie’s distress.

“Stephanie is fine,” Garnet said calmly, and the other two made questioning noises at her. Stephie curled tighter into the blanket, confused. She wasn’t fine! What was Garnet saying? Was she lying, or did she somehow not know what was happening? “Stephie, you can come out and see us. No one will be mad.” Stephie whimpered. Garnet was definitely lying. She wanted Stephie to come out so that they could fix her.

“Mad? Why would we be mad?” Pearl was saying.

“Come on, Stephie.” Garnet’s voice was familiar, soft and certain. She always knew what was best, didn’t she? “You know we love to play with you. We always want to be with you, and spend time with you.”

“Of course we do!” Pearl’s voice was shrill. “We love Stephanie, she knows that!”

“Yeah, duh!” Amethyst added. “Stephanie is the best.”

Stephie couldn’t stifle the tears as they spoke. They didn’t know who she was, didn’t know what she was hiding. They would see that she was just a stupid kid, that she couldn’t handle being a Crystal Gem. Why did they have to love her? It wasn’t fair. They would have just left her alone if they cared less, and then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Stephanie?” Pearl was the one to climb the stairs, her voice alarmed. “Stephanie, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” She scooped Stephie off the bed, blankets and all, to hold her tight. “Come on, Stephanie, stop crying. We’re all here.” She started to unwrap the blankets from around her, and Stephie panicked.

“No!” she shouted, trying to push Peal away. “No, no, no!” Pearl gasped, and then Stephie was on the floor. The blankets were in her face, wrapped around her neck, and all of a sudden Stephie felt trapped. She pushed at them, rolling on the floor, kicking arms and legs that were too small and too weak. She couldn’t breathe, but then the next second the blankets were gone and she was drawing in a breath to cry out again, the wailing cry of an overwhelmed toddler. “Leave me alone!” Stephie shouted, slamming her hands into the wood of the floor. “Leave me alone!”

Hands wrapped around him and she was lifted off the floor. Stephie wriggled against them, but they held strong, and suddenly she was cradled against the side of Garnet’s hip, held stable and safe against her. Garnet bounced Stephie lightly, practised and easy.

“Hush, little one,” Garnet murmured. “We carried you for years, you know that.” Stephie hid her face in Garnet’s shoulder, sniffling. She was exposed, yet protected. She was vulnerable, yet safe. She didn’t know how to feel or what she should do. She was starting to calm down now, so surely she should shift back to normal as soon as possible? Being big-person Stephanie seemed so far away and impossible, even as the tears and panic subsided. Garnet’s arms were so nice, so familiar.

“Do humans do that?” Pearl asked from somewhere over Garnet’s shoulder. “I thought they were linear time-beings and rather bitter about it.”

“Stephanie’s only half-human,” Garnet reminded her. “She’s special.”

“Can I hold her? Can I hold her?” Amethyst’s voice was as excited as ever. “Is she young enough for a bottle? I still have some of them in my room!”

“Nothing from your room is going into Stephanie’s mouth without a good wash first,” Pearl said sharply. “But I do have a clean bottle or two stored in my gem, if it would help,” she added to Garnet.

“Stephie gets to make the decision,” Garnet said simply, shifting her hold on Stephie so that she was sitting on Garnet’s lap, on the edge of her bed, looking outwards. Once her hands were free, Stephie put her fingers into her mouth and bit down anxiously, trying not to meet the eyes of the three Gems watching her.

“Oh, those are filthy,” Pearl admonished, and the next second Stephie felt her fingers being pulled away, replaced smoothly by a pacifier. The familiar pressure on her tongue made her relax, and she finally looked up. Pearl was smiling at him, her gem still sparkling from when she had summoned the pacifier. Was she not angry?

“What’d’you say, Stephie?” Amethyst’s face was suddenly right in front of her, eyes big and hopeful. “Do you want a bottle from your big sis Amethyst?”

“Amethyst,” Stephie tried to say, but around the pacifier it sounded like babbling. She felt herself go red, and bobbed her head in a nod.

Amethyst pumped a fist in the air and said something enthusiastically, but Stephie didn’t hear it because Garnet had put her hands over Stephie’s ears. Pearl looked angry about Amethyst’s outburst, wagging her finger and pointing to Stephie. She could feel Garnet laughing against her back.

“You have a silly family, Stephie,” Garnet murmured when she took her hands back. “But they all love you very much.”

“Sorry, Stephie,” said Amethyst, looking contrite. “I forgot you were little for a second.”

“Baba!” Stephie managed around her paci, making grabby hands. Wasn’t Amethyst going to feed her?

“Coming right up!” Pearl sing-songed, dropping a kiss on Stephie’s forehead before summoning a shiny bottle out of her gem with a wave of her hand. She passed the bottle to Amethyst, who did a front-flip off the bed, landed on the couch, and bounced all the way to the kitchen with one more jump.

“Oooh!” Stephie clapped for her, laughing.

“Amethyst, use the stairs!” Pearl sighed, before kneeling down in front of Stephie. “Hello, Stephie,” she said gently. “Do you remember me?”

“Pearl!” Stephie tried around her paci, and Pearl beamed at her.

“That’s right!” She tapped the end of Stephie’s nose, and Stephie giggled. “Now, what did you eat for breakfast yesterday?”

Stephie let the paci fall from her mouth, barely noticing Garnet catch it. “Donuts!” she told Pearl proudly. “Walk all the way!”

“You do eat a lot of donuts! Who gives you the donuts?”

“Sadie!” Stephie was bouncing on Garnet’s lap, giggling. “And Lars!”

“Good job!” Pearl produced a star sticker from what seemed like nowhere and pressed it to the front of Stephie’s too-big shirt. “You’re a very smart little human.”

“Uh-huh!” Stephie looked around for her paci, but Garnet was already putting it back in her mouth. She settled back against Garnet’s chest, humming happily. She had the best Gems ever.

“I told you she was fine,” Garnet said without reproach. Her fingers scratched gently at Stephie’s scalp, making her melt even further. “You remember her last birthday, she was even younger then.”

“We don’t know how a Rejuvenator would affect a half-human,” Pearl murmured. Her words washed over Stephie as she hummed, wriggling closer to Garnet’s wonderful hands. “You know I like to be careful. You know who she is.”

“Yes.” Garnet sighed, trailing one hand down to tickle under Stephie’s chin, making her giggle. “I understand. But I think this is part of our wonderful Stephanie. A little bit of the past, every now and then.”

“I got the bottle!” Amethyst burst back into the conversation, stomping up the stairs two at a time. “Where’s the Stephanie?”

“Baba!” Stephie reached out for her food-bringer, grinning so wide that her paci slipped out again. She frowned, reaching for it, but Garnet had it in one hand.

“You’ll get it back after your bottle,” Garnet told her, and handed her over to Amethyst.

Amethyst hoisted him up in the air, and Stephie sniffled, feeling unsafe with all the air under her feet. “Oh, sorry.” Amethyst put Stephie down before she started to cry again, sitting down with Stephie on her lap. She cradled her like a baby, which Stephie wasn’t, but she was pretty comfy so she relaxed into Amethyst’s arms. “Okay, little lady, open wide!” Amethyst made lots of funny faces and noses while Stephie drank the warm milk inside the bottle, making her giggle and spill milk down the front of her chin. That made Amethyst laugh out loud, jostling Stephie in her lap. Garnet and Pearl sat on the end of the bed, watching them both with fond smiles.

By the end of the bottle, Stephie’s eyelids were as heavy as big huge rocks. She was trying to stay awake, but she was yawning to much to even keep in her paci.

“We’ll still be here when you wake up,” Garnet said, laying Stephie carefully on a pillow as Pearl untangled the sheet from the ground and laid it over her, tucking it in carefully on all sides.

“Yeah! We can play little Stephie tag!” Amethyst said, shape-shifting into the same size as Stephie was.

“Lil’ Stephie tag,” Stephie yawned. That sounded like lots of fun, she wanted to play now but her eyelids were so heavy…

“We love you,” Garnet murmured, and that was the last thing Stephie heard as she fell asleep.

[rueitae]

Shackled

Read my whumptober collection on Ao3

~~~~~

“No luck?” Lance airs dejectedly, shoulders slumped. 

The iron remains firmly locked around his wrist… as well as the one on Pidge’s wrist, with the chain connecting them just as solid as when he’d checked when they woke. 

Pidge huffs and pulls, tugging him towards her a couple steps. “I’d be nice if I had some tools. Doesn’t look like we’re going to find anything more high tech than a stick out here.”

A forest of purple trees with white flowers both above and at ground level cover the area as far as Lance can see. “What the quiznak is this place?” he wonders, straining his neck towards the canopy. 

“I don’t know,” Pidge admits, her tone carrying a hint of early panic to it. “I have a bad feeling we haven’t seen the last of that bounty hunter, though.”

Lance gulps hard. They’d failed in their first attempt to escape their captor - the last thing Lance remembers is that wickedly evil grin before succumbing to unconsciousness. Waking up in this forest was the last thing he’d expected, though preferable to that awful dark holding cell. 

But he’s so grateful that he and Pidge aren’t separated, even if its literal. He’d be in a worried panic over her well being otherwise. 

“I’ve played video games like this,” Lance says with sickening feeling in his stomach. And watched movies too, where humans become the prey. “We should find some high ground, and something we can use as a weapon.”

Pidge’s eyes flicker with understanding. “What do you think he’ll do to us when he catches us?”

“That depends on how entertaining the two of you are.” 

Lance yelps at the suddenness of the bounty hunter’s voice, taken off guard - as is Pidge by her cry of surprise. His foot slips on the dewy ground and the next moment the bones in his butt tingle in pain when he lands squarely on the earth, his back finding a nearby tree trunk.

No sooner than Lance opens his eyes he sees Pidge falling right into him. Their screams match as he haphazardly catches her and she joins him on the ground, head in his chest.

They are still, of course, connected by the shackles. 

Static. “If that is the best the Paladins of Voltron can offer then you’ll hardly be worth the trophy I seek.”

“Then let us go, you jerk!” Pidge growls to the sky, though her free hand remains on his breastplate. It’s hard to tell where the bounty hunter’s voice is coming from when they can’t see head or tail of him (literally - he has the bushiest tail that Lance mistakenly thought was an actual dog. How wrong he’d turned out to be).

A hardened chuckle fills the air. “If you do not provide me a thrilling chase, I will hand one of you over to the Galra and kill the other. Keep me entertained and I’ll keep you both alive for myself. The stock of two chosen by Voltron Lions would make for an excellent apprentice.”

All color has drained from Pidge’s face. Lance’s own heart beats irregularly in horror, gut twisting unpleasantly. Had… had he just heard that right? He wanted their kid? A kid of himself and Pidge?

An actual honest to goodness human child? Pidge would be a mom. The mother of his kid. 

He and Pidge would…

There was no need to unpack all of this right now. First thing first - ensure both of them survive.

“You’re s-sick,” Lance manages to say, though just the though has his brain absolutely fried.

“I’m thinking of my future,”  the bounty hunter tells him. “I take my opportunities when I can get them.” A pause. “I am giving the two of you a twenty-four varga head start, then I land and begin the hunt. Survive for another twenty-four varga after that and I’ll change from my blaster to my stunner. Outwit me for an additional three quintants or longer and you’ll keep your lives and become my slaves.”

Lance gulps deeply. “I don’t suppose there’s any situation where you’ll just… let us go?”

The bounty hunter breaks into uproarious laughter.

“I personally hope you put up a good hunt, I look forward to the pleasure of your servitude.

“Your time begins now.”

The speaker switches to static briefly, and then silence. Otherwise, there is no indication of their start time. 

Lance takes in a deep breath. There was still a good chance the rest of the team could pick up the breadcrumb trail of what happened to them. Still, they’d have to play this sick game in the meantime so the team could hope to find them alive. 

The single sun is right above them and Lance decides its noon. “Okay, so at least we can tell time.”

Then it occurs to Lance that they don’t know what planet they are on, much less if it has a twenty-four varga day. He waits for Pidge to correct him… but it never comes. 

She shakes in his arms, staring at the ground. 

The bounty hunter’s threat must have really gotten to her. 

“I’m not going to let him do anything to you,” Lance promises swiftly. “We just have to survive until the others find us. Hunk is nosy enough I bet he’ll find the antique tech store we were in and Keith will get answers.”

A deep breath. “I know,” she says curtly. “It’s not life or death I’m worried about - that’s normal.” The sarcasm laced in her tone makes Lance bite his lip. It shouldn’t be normal. “It’s… what he wants to use us for.”

“Like I said, I’m not going to let him touch you,” Lance insists.

Pidge turns to him, her gaze hard. “It’s not him I’m worried about.” She shuts her eyes tightly, as she takes shuttered breaths, almost scared to speak. “I know you’d never hurt me intentionally but…”

His brain shatters into a million pieces and firey anger rises in his belly. “It’s not coming to that,” he says. “It isn’t - we’re not - “ Lance can’t find the words to describe how he feels. He’ll do everything he can to protect her - as she would him. “He can’t make us--”

“It’s an eventuality we still have to prepare for,” Pidge interrupts, more stone faced this time. She stands clumsily, dragging him up with her. “We have to survive at least five quintants. Better find some shelter. Food and water would be nice too.”

Lance’s stomach rumbles in agreement but his mind is elsewhere as they start walking side by side. “Look, what he said is bothering me too. You’re smart and we can both act pretty good, we can fake it if it comes to that.”

Pidge stops, turning to face him on a dime, rage etched on her features. “And if he sees right through us? We’d actually have to... I don’t want to be scared of you, Lance, I love you!”

Hazel eyes widen, realizing she’s revealed the most secret of secrets. Even as stunned as he is, Lance instinctively knows this is something that he was never intended to hear. 

And his first reaction is that he’s bothered by the fact he was never supposed to know.

Cat out of the bag, Pidge’s lip wobbles, and she takes in a deep breath before continuing. “Maybe someday I’d like to be married and have kids and I admit sometimes I entertain the thought that it would be with you,” she rambles quickly, refusing to look at him - until now, with bright and earnest eyes. “But you’re my friend and my teammate first - I don’t want… something like this to spoil that.”

Lance isn’t sure what to even say. He’s flustered and flattered at the same time that Pidge ponders a future in which he features prominently, as his burning cheeks inform him. He doesn’t hate the idea of Pidge’s dreams, in fact he warms up to it more with each passing tick. 

He takes her shaking hand, at least to show her he doesn’t hate her or something. 

He still can’t think of anything to say. So he repeats what he’s already said.

“I won’t let you get hurt,” he begins, and words finally start to come as his heart rate accelerates. “Maybe there’s a day you do become an awesome mom and maybe I’m there too, but right now? I’m not going to let that jerk get any sick satisfaction out of us. I swear, Pidge.” He squeezes her hand. “Do you trust me?”

There are tears in her eyes, but no longer is she anger, just tired looking as she squeezes his hand back. “I trust you with my life.”

“And I trust you with mine,” he continues, breaking into his stupidest grin that he knows she secretly adores. It only widens when he gets the appropriate twitch upwards from Pidge’s mouth, the beginnings of a smile. “And I know you’re going to figure out a way to get us out of here anyway so there’s no use worrying about it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Pidge sniffs and wipes the tears from her eyes. “First we need a plan. Want to climb a tree and see what we can see?”

“Now we’re talking! I bet there’s a world record for tree climbing while stuck to another person - like a three legged race! Except… this is a three armed climb?”

Pidge bursts out laughing. It relaxes Lance to see her not as terrified. They can do this if they work together. “Too bad we’re not on Earth, they’ll never count it.”

“Then we’ll have to make a universe-wide record!” Lance says in determination. “Come on, Pidge, let’s do this.”

When they eventually make it all the way up the tree, even cuffed together, and locate an area of gently rolling hills and what looks like a stream, Lance knows they’ll make it.

He’ll make sure they do, because he decides he wants to find out if he really might be part of Pidge’s future.

[mwolf0epsilon]

If you had to go back to it, what do you think would happen after that demon summoning fic? And what happened to Daniel???

[[MORE]]

  "He's asleep, for now at least..." Simon mutters as he locks the basement door with a padlock and key. North can barely see anything inside the room through the metal slot on the reinforced door, and she doesn't think to ask why Simon had the basement level remade into something like a prison cell. She has a feeling that she doesn't want to know the answer.

 "I..." She starts, bruised face and bloodied cracked lips so painful that it hurts to speak. She's tired. She had fought for her life, knowing she couldn't win against a 9 foot tall beast that knew she had a black belt and called her name with her lover's voice. "I didn't know y-you owned a gun..."

Simon pauses, key in hand as he looks at her.

She watches him pocket the item before he shakes his head and slumps his shoulders.

 "...I didn't." Simon's eyes are sad and just as tired as her own. He holds a weight on his shoulders that tells her he's seen too much. Suffered a loss just as great as her own. The bad feeling intensifies, and she can only think of one thing to blame:

That book. He'd recognized it the moment she showed it to him.

 "What happened to you...?" She asks, knowing full well that something had gone down before she and Josh moved back. And it had to do with Daniel.

"...What can you tell me about Daniel, North?" Simon asks rather than reply, confirming her suspicions.

She doesn't answer, because she knows Simon had a brother, but she doesn't recall ever meeting him. She knows he must have been close to Simon if his death had shaken him up so much that he'd begged for their support, but honestly she doesn't know what to say.

"I...Don't think we ever met."

Simon's reaction startles her. He laughs.

He laughs an ugly broken laugh that breaks her heart even more than it already is. Turns each shard to dust.

 "...I hoped... You could remember I had a brother, but I g-guess it was wishful thinking that you'd know who he was." Simon looks so very hurt. He hugs himself tightly and shakes.

"Simon?"

 "He was my twin... We were insepperable the four of us... F-fuck I..." Simon ran a hand over his face and sobbed "I...I fucked up badly North…"

---

     The bakery had been doing poorly ever since the new supermarket had opened up on the other block. A lot of the smaller shops were losing clients and closing down, since people thought the new place was a lot more convenient.

Simon and Daniel's tiny store quickly lost sales and the two were not meeting their quota at the end of the month. Rent was becoming difficult to pay and they had been desperate.

  "If we don't find a way to turn this whole mess around, we'll end up living on the streets…" Daniel had fretted as he looked over the bills. They had piled up so much that they weren't sure where they'd get the money.

  "I talked to Mrs. Stern, but she's not one to give more than a second chance. She expects the money by next month…" Simon sighed miserably. "I'm sorry Dan...I tried…"

  "I know...I just… I'm scared Si." Daniel looked at him, concern and fear of the unknown clouding his eyes in such a way that they looked like a stormy sky. "I… I'll go talk to Connor… see if he can lend me an extra buck…"

  "You hate asking for handouts."

  "Well what choice do I have?!" Daniel grumbled "Unless you can think of something better, I'd suggest you pick up some books on how to make money real quick…"

---

  "...You took his advice seriously, didn't you?" North frowned.

Simon shakily nodded, face buried in his hands.

  "Yes…"

  "Simon...What happened?" She looked over towards the door when she heard soft shuffling inside. The monster that had been Josh had probably shifted in its sleep, just as her beloved tended to. He was a restless sleeper.

  "...I went to the library. I tried looking for business books but…" the blond shook his head "I found that fucking thing instead."

His desperation had lead to a very piss poor decision on his part. 

The promise of having his greatest desires given to him by the many spells and rituals. 

It had been so tempting.

Too tempting for him to resist.

If he could just pick the right one, do it right and get enough money to save his and Daniel's tiny little bakery…

But it had all gone so wrong!

  "I just wanted to help." Simon sobs "I never meant to be so selfish!"

He'd not done it right.

The spell he chose called for one to clear their mind and choose their one greatest want in life.

Simon had to focus on saving the bakery, but instead he'd been greedy.

The thought of how easy it would be to get anything he wanted…

The bakery had all but left his mind as he'd let himself fantasize.

What would it be like if he were more? If he were as interesting as his twin? Knew all the things Daniel had taken the time to learn in their youth?

Be the kind of guy people wanted to get to know?

He'd been a foolish selfish idiot for thinking such thoughts. And he'd paid for it, just as North had paid for mocking the book.

  "I… Its like… It's like I had absorbed Daniel in the womb." He whispers.

  "What?" North stared, uncertain if she'd heard him right.

  "The ritual… I wasn't supposed to think of anything but getting the money to save the bakery… But…" he sighed "My insecurities…"

  "You were insecure about your ability to help?" North asked.

  "No. I just… I always considered Daniel to be the stronger, better twin. I just wanted to be as good as him… instead I erased his existence and… I guess rewrote my life so that I was Daniel but not." Simon grimaced, before looking back at her. "And I know it goes beyond just… Just him being gone."

  "I… How?" North dares ask.

He doesn't reply, instead he takes her hand and puts it against his chest. She raises an eyebrow before she feels it.

A twin thumping of two separate hearts, inside a single chest cavity.

  "...Oh my god…"

  "I didn't just kill my brother. I became him, and now I have his heart to remind me that I'm a selfish monstrous fuck."

---

     Josh doesn't eat much for a large beast. Simon feeds him liver, hearts and other assorted parts he gets at a butchers. They rarely go inside the basement and, when they need to clean it, they use Daniel's tranq gun to knock him out.

North sits by the door most days. She talks to her fiancee for many hours, letting him know she still loves him and that she's sorry for getting him into this mess.

Sometimes he moans her name, the chain around his neck dragging against the floor as he tries to reach her.

She knows he'd sink his teeth into her throat if he ever got the chance.

     Simon hid the book better this time. No longer in any of the public sections of the library. It's locked in a safe in Daniel's old room, where no one else would think to look.

Whenever he's not at the library, he's reading those damned pages in search of a way to fix Josh.

So far, he's found nothing 

So North bides her time and speaks to her lover.

  "Simon can shoot guns now, and do rock climbing… His back pains are gone and he can chat up Markus now…" she recounts through the slot. She can see the glimmer of four goat-like eyes peering over at her in the dark. The rumbling growl is unsettling. "He wasn't kidding… He really did absorb his brother… He has two hearts now. Says it helps him sleep when he feels the heartbeat on the left. It's like Daniel's still here…"

  "Nooooorth…." The mournful rumble makes her pause. She shivers but carries on.

  "You remember Daniel don't you? No one else can… And I don't… Fully remember…" she confesses "But he knew a lot of stuff. Simon was jealous of him, but he loved him… He misses him a lot. Like… Like how I miss you."

The chain rattles closer, she can hear hooves and claws scraping along the floor. Her eyes prickle slightly.

  "Josh… You know I've always been shit with words. I've been an angry unpleasant person for most of my life, and somehow you never felt put off by my attitude." North laughed bitterly "Guess you got the short end of the stick here… But… What I'm trying to say is…"

She looks at the slot and her skin crawls as the muzzle tries to force itself through. A mixture of a wolf, and a Chinese lion dog, with curled fangs and a snake-like tongue that writhes and slithers in all directions. Thirsty for blood.

  "Is that… I'm sorry." She lets the slot rest against the beast's maw, shivering when the serpentine tongue catches her fingers. The saliva is hot against her skin. "I shouldn't have been a dick. I shouldn't have read out of that stupid book… I never wanted anything. I thought what we had was plenty… and if I had to ask for anything… I'd just ask to have you back."

The beast shuts its jaw sharply.

She can't hear him breathing heavily anymore.

  "... I want you back Josh. That's all I want…" she gets up, looks down at the monstrous muzzle and presses a quick kiss to that ugly squashed nose of his, and turns to leave.

  "NoRtH…?"

She stops.

  "Josh…?"

The muzzle pulls away from the slot, replaced by a clawed set of digits. On one finger Josh's ring gleams in the low light.

  "North…" his eyes peek through the slot. There are still four but they're his.

Her heart skips a beat.

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 190- ‘Ol’ Corpse-ville’

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

MASTERLIST

Chapter 190 - ‘Ol’ Corpse-ville’

[Negan and Blake head out on the open road...]

Just over an hour had passed by the time Blake stepped out into the large dusty lot outside the factory walls.

A pale sun hung low in the sky this morning, the air feeling cooler today than it previously had done, winter obviously not far off rearing its ugly head.

Blake, today, with very few clothes up in her closet made for such a chilly day, had opted to pick out a jacket from the marketplace instead, deciding on a short, black suede little number with a cozy fleece lining. She had paired that with a pair of tight black pants, a white t-shirt as well as a pair of trusty black laced boots she had come here in all those many months ago.

But the blonde should, of course, have realised just what her outfit today resembled, a little too preoccupied giving Mia her breakfast then dropping her off at her playdate for the day, to dwell too much on it.

But almost the moment she walked out onto the gravel of the fenced-off lots, did she purse her lips and roll her eyes at her fanfare.

"Well god-damn, Peaches," came a calling voice she recognised very well indeed. "Don' you look fine as shit today, all dressed up an' ready ta' go! But damn, have I gotta be worried about you stealin' my look as well as my goddamn empire these days?"

Negan was stood, leaning up against a large beat-up pick up truck, one the pair had ventured out in together a long time ago, Lucille swung up cockily onto his shoulder as he offered her a wolf-like grin, looking her up and down as though she were a piece of steak in front of a hungry lion.

Blake glanced down at her outfit before staring back up at Negan, doing the best she could to not groan loudly.

For her outfit, down to the white t shirt, was almost identical to Negan's, save for the leather jacket and the baseball bat of course.

"Shut up," she sniped, huffing. "I just threw this on. Don't flatter yourself."

Negan lifted his chin, eyeing her brightly as she approached him, one hand resting on the large knife at her belt.

"Well I am mighty fuckin' impressed, Darlin'," he mused in a husky voice, pushing his lean form off of the truck, and coming to stand up as straight as his long legs would allow him. "Not that you don't look like a damn fox every fuckin' day. But today-"

He gave a whistle of appreciation, leaning in towards her as she came to a stop just in front of him.

"-I mean, I don' know if it's that damn knife you're carryin', or how great your ass looks in those jeans that's gettin' my dick hard, but either way I'm into that shit!"

Blake narrowed her eyes at him, brushing him away from her irritably.

"Are you gonna be like this for the whole day?" she tutted, shoving past him and opening the passenger-side door.

Negan smirked.

"Like what?" he chuckled, moving around to his own side of the truck as he eyed her.

But Blake shot him a glowering look over the hood of the truck.

"Annoying," she muttered, sliding into the cab and tugging the door beside her closed with a loud snap.

Negan grinned ather as he sidled into the driver's seat a second later.

"Now what the hell's got your panties in a bunch today, Doll-face?" he said smoothly, tossing Lucille down onto the seat beside him, between the pair of them, before shoving a jangling set of keys into the ignition. "Fuck, I mean I'm not one hundred percent fuckin' sure whether you're headin' out here to smash a couple of rotter skulls, or mine!"

Blake pursed her lips for a moment, pouting.

"Probably the latter," she uttered in a deadpan tone, earning a side-eyed look from Negan, as the truck rumbled into life.

"Well shit, there's me fuckin' told," Negan said raising both eyebrows into his hairline. "Remind me why I agreed to this road trip again, Peaches."

But the blonde looked at him now, smiling vixen-like at the Saviour, and crossing her legs neatly over one another.

"Because you love me," she purred.

And she could only watch as Negan grinned back at her.

"That I fuckin' do, Sweetheart. That I fuckin' do."

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

It must have been at least two and half hours later that Blake stepped out of the truck and made a face at the sight before her.

"Jeez, Negan," she said gazing about at the dingy row of long-abandoned buildings they had stopped outside of, in a place a long way from the Sanctuary. "I said I wanted to stretch my legs, not catch hepatitis."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste as her eyes lingered over a large mass of dead corpses that had been piled up a long time ago in the centre of the road just to their right.

"Darlin'," smirked Negan, who was at her side already, giving her a nudge in the ribs with his elbow, leaning into her. "You an' I both know that there are worse thing you can catch in this shit-heap of a world than goddamn hepatitis."

He was right of course, but all the same, the smell out here was overpowering and a far cry from the fresh and green road-side Blake had been hoping they'd stop at instead.

She sighed, folding her arms over herself huffily, watching as Negan took out a snarling walker, that dared wander too close to her, with vigour.

"All the same," she said airily, as the dead figure tumbled to the ground at her feet, black blood pooling at its caved in skull. "Is there a reason you brought me to Ol' Corspe-ville?"

At her words, Negan leaned back against his long legs letting out a chuckle.

"Shit, Darlin' you are on fire today, you know that?" he said in a loud voice, drawing the attention of another couple of walkers from the other side of the wide street. "But fuck, I brought you out here 'cause I thought you might wanna get in a little retail therapy before we hit the road again?"

Blake angled an eyebrow in his direction, frowning bemusedly. But the dark-haired man, merely smiled, biting down onto his bottom lip as he gestured with his head to the row of buildings just over his shoulder, on the other side of the truck.

Blake paused for a short moment before moving slowly around the car curiously, smirking as she saw what was written on the run-down signs hanging from the front awning.

...Ladies Boutique…. Gentleman's Wares…. Welcome to Midsprings Department Store…

Blake turned back to Negan smirking a little and shifting her weight onto one hip.

"You know it's probably already been looted, right?" she mused. "Like ten times over."

But Negan merely grinned that wide and cocky grin of his.

"Worth a look though, right?" he murmured in return, holding out the crook of his arm, as the blonde woman hovered.

But it was only a second later, and with the smallest rolls of her green eyes, that Blake returned his grin, moving over towards him and looping her arm through his.

"Fine," she chimed, bumping him with her hip playfully. "But I get bit in there, you're the first one I'm coming after when I'm dead, we clear?"

And Negan could only let out a loud and carrying laugh as the pair strutted over towards the awaiting department store, Lucille swung up onto the Saviours' other shoulder as they went.

"Oh, Crys-tal," Peaches."

I’ve taken a few dead links off my tag-list. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged, retagged or untagged! :)

@collette04 | @attorneyl  | @mssharingisfun | @daydreamsandchai | @onemorebeautifulnightmare | @arwa-alii  | @maggiesourie | @blumenkind72 | @toloaughistolove  | @negans-womam| @elinyaes  | @mwesterfeld1985 | @letseatandsleep | @xxqueenofisolationxx| @lovesjdm | @padmeisgay | @karlbourbonismyhero | @lfsbitencourt | @toxic-ink | @laaadygisbooornex3 | @cutiedaij| @warriorqueen1991 | @itstheamandashow| @side-xix-men  | @dessie | @lovelynerdytraveler|@joelssmugglingservice   | @sophiestru24 | @intensemindorgasms | @jenn0755 | @nerdygirlwithacrush | @ali-in-fandomland  | @spn-mudkip | @neganismyobsession  | @ryantherandomhero| @embee222 | @neganslilbitch | @theofficialduke | @xagateophobiax   | @nu1freakshow | @simplysiriuslyjoking | @negan5589 | @ididntchoosethislife  | @yezzyzzz  | @jessiellong1987 | @likearaindropfilledwithgoldust | @kristenallison04 | @vanilla-negan | @simplysiriuslyjoking | @shannmiw  | @qhbr2013 | @uncharte-dlove | @nerdaspe | @thedeadwalks | @pizzaisrelationshipgoals| @kalista225 | @saved-by-fiction | @nerdywriter| @hayleighloatx| @miss-cap21 | @teamnegansaviors | @nyakozhovur  | @theunwantedwriter| @theunwantedwriter | @myrabbitholetoneverland| @topthis808  | @depressed-teenagekids| @band-psycho  | @artisticlales | @messybitch802 | @itstotalyblue | @queenofthesole | @athena1504 | @sighsophiia | @make-things-beautiful2 | @lynn1712 | @thamberlina | @batmanlover1593 | @jdmsgal | @queenslandlover-93 | @neganrpblog | @michellevalvona | @roguesandsaviors | @godaddy-winchester | @fuckyeafishes | @hotdigggittydogg | @thewingeddragon | @negan-the-cat | @little-big-mac2  | @lunatheumbreon | @itookherteethies | @laura-clapton| @justnatalies | @queen0fants | @belsoleleann | @lellatron  | @bvckysbrns  | @omqstyleseditss| @tigger4367 | @ohmy-sammy | @ainhoitaoz| @youshouldloveyourselfbruh | @babeinthesun| @topthis808 | @colormewhole-blog-blog | @so-i-died | @sannamahlkvist | @the-nuup | @i-fucking-rock| @deanervs | @searchf0rtheskyline  | @starlessskies94 | @lellatron | @carolines24 | @youll-all-get-yours | @jackybehappy  | @candiloverr | @emybug101 | @imstonecoldnegan | @sapphirerose0122 | @katerinas | @blondekel77 | @thetruebornwildchild  | @nekocookie11 | @mellowspypersonadeputy | @champagnesugamama | @lostdarksoul6 | @babygirlmeepi | @may-machin | @julyintherain12 | @drina365 | @bob-giovanni | @journeyrose | @faith-lynn9 | @mellowspypersonadeputy | @queenredfury | @heyworld07 | @sarcasticrose18 | @wonder-cole | @scarletthart96 | @mychemicalimagines | @risenfromearth | @haleyea | @ifsomeonewroteabookaboutme @beegnc @imsensitiveplzdonthurtme @xrosegoldwolfx @vlightning95 @elskinner45  @negans-network@josten10-minyard03 @neganscherryblue

[scenarihoes]

if you're still doing them, I'd love a scenario for present mic which has a crush on one of the girls that works at the radio station and one day when he arrives she's there alone singing quiet a sexy songs and he notices how great her voice is and how much sexier she makes the song sound

thanks for the request!!!!!!! this is SO cute and i adore present mic hehehe

LET’S GO!

——-

Birds chirp loudly and soar upon the open sky. The sun has yet to even peak over the towering buildings of the city, stars still dancing among the lightening hues of blue and black. If not for the fact that he’d been up all night the previous evening, Hizashi was sure he’d have taken in the early day, sucked in a deep chestful of breath and smiled on the exhale. In his dreariness he can almost appreciate the serenity but with Aizawa’s grumpy tone resonating from the phone tucked between Hizashi’s shoulder and ear, it’s hard to really let loose.

“Remind me why you woke me up?” He grunts, and there’s the sound of shifting blankets.

“Sorry man! I really thought it would go to voicemail,” A loud lions-like yawn escapes him, feet coming to stop at a very familiar radio-station. “You’re usually almost dead around this time.”

“Whatever. What did you want to tell me?”

“I was just gonna leave a simple little message for you to wake up to.”

“Get on with it, then. I’d like to get back to sleep before tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright,” Hizashi tilts his head and secures the phone even tighter as one hand reaches out, catches the door knob and the other shoves the key hastily into the hole. “We’ve got some new systems in the station and I totally forgot to set the damn things up. I went the entire show last night with old goods Shouta!”

“….And?”

“Aaaaaand,” Hizashi stills and shuts his eyes, bracing for impact. “I won’t have time this week to set them up so I’ve gotta get it done before everything else today...” He pauses and shuts his eyes with a cringe. “...I don’t think I can make your coffee run…”

A loud, irritated groan nearly makes him shudder so hard the phone drops. Even though Aizawa can’t see him, the edges of his lips flick upwards in a sheepish smile.

“Come on, man! I can do it tomorrow!”

“I need it today.”

“Wait one more day,” He yowls, shoulders slumping. “I can do it tomorrow, buddy!”

“There’s no point tomorrow when I wanted it today.”

“If it’s so important than why can’t you go get it!”

“Ugh.”

The line falls dead and Hizashi blinks forward at the station door. He doesn’t know if he should be surprised or not- after all, he had told his friend he’d go out and get some of that weird coffee he likes from the store downtown while he was out and about, but to set up the new systems, he knows it’ll throw a pretty hefty wrench in the order of his plans. He’d never make it across town in time with everything else he’s got going on. Three jobs and a week full of errands doesn’t come cheap, after all.

As he shoves the phone into his pockets, a sigh escapes him. Oh well, he’d make up for it some other time. He’d buy double the amount and deliver it to his friends door, practically bust the frame down if there’s no answer. Or maybe he’d just shout Aizawa’s name from outside until the man wanted to knock him out. The usual routine.

The first thing he notices when he pushes the door open is the most obvious: the sound of music. It’s soft but the station is small enough for it to travel fast. The second thing he notices takes a little longer to set in. Compared to the quality of the days prior, the music reaches him so much smoother than it ever had before. Beats rumble in his chest. Languid notes of an American song he recognizes but can’t quite name yet, the gentle thump of vibrations resonating off the tables and walls. The bass is heavy in the medoly and makes him want to dance, but he’s too curious to give in just yet.

From where he stands in the entrance he can already see there sound boards are nearly doubled in size, a dozen more options to play with and another extra few buttons for cheesy special effects.

Which leads to the third thing he notices. Well, realizes, mostly. A mountain of empty boxes stack outside the utulity closet, and his eyes widen.

The systems are already a-go.

Dots connect within his brain, a few words you’d spoken to him earlier in the week.

“Don’t worry about it, Mic,” You’d said with a beaming grin. Cupid must have come around early, since his heart fluttered in his chest like a bird in a glass cage. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. Let me take care of setting up!”

A long grin worms it’s way onto his lips, barring his teeth. In just a few long strides he’s finding the control center, plopping down on the swivel chair and kicking his feet up atop the small desk beside all the sound switches. His fingers interlock, rest on his gut. He could one-hundred percent take his leave, get his things done and even make his best friends day, but…

Then again, when does he ever get some alone time with you?

The bright ‘off air’ sign flashes vibrant red within the hosts cubicle, a ‘hang in there’ poster hastily taped on the wall. You’d gotten it for him with a grin and who was he to break your little heart? He taped it right on and patted it down, beamed down at the cuteness of your smile.

Waiting turns out to be much more boring than he’d anticpated. That combined with the idea that he was going to surprise you was making him restless. You were likely taking time to gather up the wires from the old systems or packing them into storage, completely unawere of his prescense. He’s happy he came by, even if it meant Aizawa wasn’t the happiest camper alive.

Then, a sudden sound of singing urges his broad smile to falter. It takes him back, the lyrics of the song he finally recognized. You’re not humming like you usually are, or murmuring off-beat tunes to whatever songs he was playing at the time. You were singing, belting out note after note like there wasn’t a soul to witness it. Somehow during his time spent around you, one of his most frequent over-night coworkers, he’d never once heard you sing. Surely you’d heard plenty of his voice, but this was something else. Something he never expected.

Vocal range, high notes and low notes perfectly carried…

“…And I know when that hotline bling, that can only mean one thing…”

You sing the words so softly, no where near upbeat as the original. The way it sounds rolling from your tongue almost feels emotional, if not a tad sensual. In his chair, Hizashi shivers, sits upright and presses his palms to his knees in interest.

Suddenly the utility closet’s door swings open, revealing a flood of dim light and then your figure lingering in the door way. You sway to the beat of the music, eyes half shut in lazy comfort. The tip of your feet meets a box and you nudge it over to clear a path.

“Ever since I left the city you- Got a reptation for yourself now,”

You’ve yet to notice the figure observing you in relative silence. Hizashi’s over the moon and doesn’t even care that he’s likely being creepy just staring.

“Everybody knows and I feel left out,”

He tingles from the tip of his spine all the way down. Never had he thought Hotline Bling of all songs could sound so saucy, especially coming from your lips. It’s almost an opposite to your usually peppy demeaner.

“Girl you got me down, you got me stressed ou- WOAH!”

In that moment he swears he see’s you leap ten feet high. Your clutch yourself and launch backwards, eyes wide, mouth agape, a hot red already painting the tops of your cheeks. Your sudden outburst scares Hizashi as much as his hidden prescense had scared you, and he’s up and moving so quick the swivel chair slams into the sound systems behind him.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He cries. “No need to freak, it’s only me!”

“You scared the absolute hell out of me, Yamada!” Your hands find your chest. “I almost had a heart attack!”

“Aw doll, I didn’t mean to.” Now he feels like kind of a jerk. You’d been so calm just a moment ago…

As you brush your hair back and sigh, regaining composure, you look up at him. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I uh-…” He rubs the back of his head, long blond hair that he kept flattened today spilling between his fingers. “I was gonna set the systems up before friday.”

“I thought I told you I had it under control?”

“You did! I totally forgot, sorry! But we’ve got more pressing matters-“ His hands reach out and grasp your shoulders. “You never told me you could sing!”

Ah, there goes that tomato red all over again. You tense in his grasp. “W-Well, I don’t exactly do it often…”

“Whaaaaat?!” Hizashi let’s you go and spins dramatically, hands to the sky. “You should! You’re amazing, I could really feel it in my soul!”

“You felt Hotline Bling in your… Soul?”

“All beacuse of you! You’re spectacular. Why do you hold your voice hostage from the world?!”

Another wave of flush encases you and he can see the way you advert your eyes, bite your cheek and force a laugh. “Um… I’m kinda shy…”

“All the more reason to put yourself out there,” Once more his hands find your shoulders, but this time, he bends down to your eye level. You struggle to meet his gaze. “In fact, you should join me and some of my good friends for karaoke this saturday.”

“But the show on friday...?”

“Who say’s the part has to stop after the show! Catch some z’s and we’ll go crazy all over again!”

“W-What?!” You gawk, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrists. “I-I couldn’t-… Singing along isn’t my thing, sure it’s fun with friends but…”

“You won’t be alone, I’ll sing with you!” Hizashi pulls back and points to himself with two thumbs. “It’ll be a blast! You don’t even really have to sing if you don’t want to, but you should totally come along! It’ll be like some sort of date!”

Upon the dawn of the first second that word leaves his lips, he’s stone. You gape at him.

“I-I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date, m-more like-“ He feels like he’s going to start sweating bullets any minute. “More like a friend date, yknow? Between two friends! Yeah!”

A swift giggle leaves you, and you’re shaking your head. Endearment, he recognizes. It makes him feel cozy on the inside even despite the butterflies beating the hell out of his stomach.

“It’s fine,” You say, but you’re just as shaken as he is. “I-It can be a date. I think it would be fun, even if I don’t sing much.”

“You mean it?!”

“Well, yeah…! It’s kinda hard not to have fun with you.”

“I mean the date! You wanna go on a date with me?”

A giggle escapes you and sounds with the ever playing music in the background. “Of course!”

Hizashi’s world falls right into the place at the exact right moment. Heavens gates split open, angels sing, golden outlines both him and you. His arms, of course, throw over his head in triumphance.

“Yeah!!!!” He cheers. “You gotta sing that song with me, though!”

“Once, and only once.” Cheekily, you glance up at him from your lashes. “… And only if you sing it with me.”

Suddenly you’re pressed flat against his chest, two arms wrapping around you with childlike excitement. You flail but find purchase on holding the back of his shirt, the length of his hair tickling your upper back.

“Alright then,” He sings. “It’s a deal!”

[squilliamnylander]

all the small things | auston matthews

Note: I wrote a thing and here it is?? I’m kinda nervous to post this so any and all feedback is appreciated - whether it’s positive or constructive criticism. 

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: some nsfw y’all, but not a lot

“Bub, have you seen my game-day hoodie? I thought I left it in the bathroom but It’s not there.” Auston calls from your shared bedroom, voice growing clearer as he makes his way down the stairs. He thumps down each step, slow and deliberate and you know he’s just woken up from his nap. You set down your copy of Jane Eyre as a sleepy Auston stumbles into the living room, clad in grey sweats and an old ZSC Lions tee shirt. The shirt was well-worn - the colours are faded and there's a small hole near his naval. As he approaches the couch, you sit up from your cave of blankets to kiss the patch of skin showing through, and he offers you a small smile. 

“It smelled a little gross so I washed it,” you reply, “Sorry, shoulda told you. In the laundry room, I think it’s near the bottom of the bin.” 

He looks down at you, still smiling over your small show of affection, and crinkles his nose. 

“Buuuub,” he draws out his nickname for you so it sounds almost like a whine, “I told you not to do my laundry. You’re not a housewife,” and he winks at you, “yet…” 

You roll your eyes, but a giggle escapes and you take his hand in yours. 

He continues: “Seriously, we have staff for this. Thank you, I appreciate you, but I don’t want you to feel like you need to take care of me.” 

You tug on his hand and he gets the memo, sliding onto the couch, far enough away so as not to disturb your elaborate blanket set-up, your book still lying propped open on your lap.   

“You’ve been tired and stressed Aus - more tired than usual. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Your bin was overflowing, so I thought I’d help. It’s really nothing, I don’t mind.” You reach up and run your fingers through the mop on his head, untangling as you go, lightly pinching his ear in reassurance. 

“Besides, we can’t have Auston Matthews warming up without his lucky hoodie, and it really was disgusting. Zach and Willy won’t go near you if you show up smelling like ass-sweat.” 

You thought he would laugh - you were going for a laugh, hoping it would ease the tension he was holding up in his shoulders, but he just looks at you instead, and it’s so full of love and reverence, you think your heart is going to burst. He leans in, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. He doesn’t deepen it, just holds you there for a second, before moving his mouth to your earlobe.   

“It’s not nothing,” he whispers. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

..........

“Tomatoes, garlic, onion, red peppers, green peppers, chilli peppers, mango, corn chips, avocados… I think I got everything.” Auston mumbles, walking into the kitchen, carefully balancing two very full grocery bags on his shoulders. You start to stand up. try to reach out to take them off his back, but he spins, dodging your grasp the way he always does to opposing players on the ice.

“Relax, I’ve got it.” He places the bags on the floor, pulling out the items you asked him to pick up on the way home from the rink. A few nights ago, Auston had confided in you that he missed his mom’s homemade Mexican food, and that his cache of homemade hot sauce just wasn’t cutting it. A lifetime of hockey meant to more nights eating out than in, and it was pretty obvious - he was horrible in the kitchen. The most he knew about cooking was how take leftovers out of the plastic takeout containers before reheating, and there were no genuine Mexican places in his UberEats delivery zone. So, you offered to make him the one dish you knew how to make - a recipe you had mastered in the early, broke days of freshman-dorm living - salsa. It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

“Oh, and I grabbed you these.” He pulls a small black box out of the grocery bag and puts it on the counter, before moving to put away the produce. You pick it up, inspect it, wondering why your boyfriend decided to meander down the feminine hygiene aisle of your local Sobeys while shopping for salsa ingredients. He must sense your confusion, because he shuts the fridge, turning to look at you. He places his hands on the counter, leaning over it to kiss the crease between your scrunched eyebrows. 

“Borrowed your toothpaste this morning ‘cause I left mine in my suitcase and while I was in your side of the vanity, I saw you were almost out. Figured you’d forget to restock before it was too late.”   

You mouth an inaudible ‘aw’ and stand up, walking around the countertop to latch your arms around his middle. His arms immediately circle around you, pulling in you in. He smells like sweat and hockey tape and his deodorant - like Auston - and you squeeze him back tighter.   

“Love you,” you speak into his chest, voice muffled by the sweater he’s wearing, but he hears you anyways. Auston always hears you. He laughs quietly, a breathy laugh you can feel as his chest rumbles against your cheek.   

“It’s just tampons bub, no big deal.”

..........

“Matthews, get in here for a sec. I got something for you.” 

Auston gets off his bed, padding barefoot through the hotel room’s connecting door into Mitchy’s room. They’re in Niagara for pre-season training camp, and it’s the first night of two weeks away from home for the boys. Mitch is holding a small box, wrapped in blue tissue paper, and Auston immediately knows it’s from you. You had wrapped all of his presents for him last christmas - he was hopeless, couldn’t even figure out how to cut enough paper, and you chided him for wanting to have a store attendant wrap his own mother’s gift - and he recognizes your signature corner folds. Mitch smiles a big toothy smile, before handing Auston the box. 

“She made me promise not to give it to you until your birthday, which is technically not for another hour, but I’m hella tired and I want to catch some actual shut-eye before morning skate tomorrow - knowing Babs, we won’t get much this trip. So yeah, here.” 

Auston laughs at his teammate’s comment, and takes the box.

“She’s a keeper, brother. Gave this to me over a week ago and texted me everyday to make sure I didn’t forget. A pain in the ass, but a keeper.” This earns Mitch another laugh from Auston, knowing very well how persistent his girlfriend could be. 

“Believe me, I know,” he says, “Thanks for doing it.” 

“Not a problem.” Mitch replies with a yawn, “Now get out, I’m going to bed. Goodnight Auston - and happy almost birthday.” 

Auston heads back into his room, closing the connecting door for some privacy, before getting back into bed with the box. He opens it, tries not to tear the paper to shreds, wants to save everything his girlfriends gives him, and finds a note.   

‘For my boy’ it reads, written in blue ink because she knows it’s his favourite colour, knows that even though it’s a simple thing it makes him happy, and he already wants to call her and tell her he loves her just for remembering that. But it’s late, past eleven at night, and he doesn’t want to wake her, not on a Sunday night when she has to be up early for class the next morning. So he sits alone with the box and the note, traces his fingers over her neat printing, before breaking the seal and reading what she wrote for him.   

“Happy Birthday, Aus. I wish I could be there with you today to celebrate your incredible life. I loved you at 20 and I’m going to love you now at 21 too. Call me sometime if you can - I promise I won’t sing over the phone. I love you, and I hope you like your gift. Xoxo.”

He doesn’t even need to open the it the rest of the way to know he loves it. She knows him, knows his favourite colour, knows he likes to stay up till midnight on the eve of his birthday, knows which of his teammates would remember his birthday too - anything she bought for him would be perfect. And while the Bon Jovi tour tee, the blue baseball cap and the key to her apartment she had included in the box were certainly appreciated, he finally understood what people meant when they said it was the thought that counts. He would wear the shirt and cap tomorrow, had the perfect pair of black skinnies in mind to match, he was most looking forward to calling her in the morning to thank her for always thinking ahead, for always thinking of him.

..........

“Can I offer you anything else, ladies? Some more champagne?” The waiter asks, approaching your group. A chorus of ‘no’s’ and ‘no thank you’s’ is heard from around the table, and you join in quietly, shaking your head and offering a polite smile.   

The venue is enchanting, with high ceilings and crystal chandeliers that shimmer in the candlelight, and you try to focus on the beauty of the moment instead of your persistent hunger. You’re here to celebrate your friend’s marriage, and although you love her, would never survive hockey season without her, you kind of want to kill her for choosing lobster as the main dish. Maybe it’s because you grew up in a city, away from coastal towns and seafood diners, or maybe you just have reasonable taste, but the buttery smell is stuck in your nose, every whiff triggering your gag reflex, and choking down the fingerling potatoes was not enough to quell the uneasiness in your stomach. You’re lost in the art on the walls, pushing food on your plate like some kind of toddler, when you feel a blunt jab to your side. Trailing down, your eyes find Auston’s elbow as the culprit, you angle towards him, meeting his eyes. He looks amused, gives you a knowing look - knowing that you despise seafood, knowing that the smell makes you want to vomit - and you can’t help but offer a small pout in return. After all, he can’t stand lobster either, so he’s probably feeling as nauseated as you are. He looks both ways - at William sitting next to him, at the Bozaks across from you, like he’s about to pull some sort of magic trick, and once satisfied no one was paying attention, he picks up his plate and scrapes his potatoes and bread onto yours with a wink and a half-smile.   

You’re feeling equal parts grateful and guilty, because as hungry as you are, your boyfriend just gave you the only food he’s going to get for the next five hours or so. 

You lean towards him to whisper, “What are you gonna eat?” Auston just shakes his head before replying. “I ate a big lunch, I’m good, go ahead.”   

Placing your hand on his thigh, you give a small squeeze to show your gratitude before taking a too-big bite out of his dinner roll, which elicits a chuckle. The rest of the night flows beautifully, and by the end of the meal, you’re satisfied enough to drag your boyfriend to the dance floor. The song is melodic and slow, and Auston’s got you wrapped in his arms so your head is resting on his shoulder.

“You know,” he murmurs, lips grazing the crown of your head, “When we get married, I think we can pick a much better dinner menu.”   

His grip around you tightens, his body stiffening. If he hadn’t been holding on to you, you might have dropped right in the middle of the dance floor. The two of you had never talked about marriage before, choosing to focus on the more immediate future, like bye-week and playoff trips and off-season. You never expected him to bring it up either - before you, Auston had been a serial dater, never holding on to a girl for more than a few hours or at most a few nights. And yet, here he was, talking about the real future, at his teammate’s wedding of all places, and he was clinging on tighter than ever. You turn your head to look up at him, and he looks scared. You’ve never seen his eyes like this, not even before game 7 of the playoffs, not when he was faced with the possibility of surgery, not even when he had first asked you to move in with him. So, you press a light kiss to his shoulder, trying not to stain his suit with your lipstick, and bury your face back into the crook of his arm before saying,

“I think so too, I think our wedding will be so much better. Although, I really do like this ballroom. The chandeliers are stunning. Maybe we could steal them right from the ceiling for ours.”   

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling, can feel him relax his body back into yours. He sways you to the music, and just for a moment you imagine this to be your wedding day. Dancing with Auston, surrounded by your favourite people dancing in celebration of your love, you realize it’s all that you want. Well, it’s almost all you want, you think, holding back a laugh when you hear Auston’s stomach grumble. Ideally, you’ll both like the food at your wedding. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to give up his food to keep you full. But he’s Auston, the boy you know yore going to marry someday, and you know that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you full and happy and dancing for the rest of your lives together.

..........

You wished more than anything you could be there to welcome him home. The boys had played an incredible game; a stellar, unexpected win that, with playoffs right around the corner, had everyone buzzing. The team and friends and girlfriends were all headed back to yours and Auston’s shared home to celebrate, but you had a flight out of Pearson that night, and not only missed the game, but missed your chance to give him a celebratory kiss - an easy tradition you had picked up early on in your relationship. 

As the boys stumbled through the door, followed by their already-tipsy girlfriends, Auston was struck by how quiet and cold the living room felt without you home. The fireplace, which was usually on, was dark, and the windows were all shut even though you normally kept them open, a fan of the fresh air and the city sounds from outside your downtown home.   

He makes his way through the house, turning on the lights and the stereo, as his teammates and friends fill up the place. There’s chatter and music and the sound heels clicking on the hardwood, and it’s not you, but it’s better than being alone. He finally makes his way to the kitchen, heads for the fridge to grab a beer, when he notices something on the kitchen table you normally kept bare. It’s a tin, a christmas tin complete with cartoon Santas and reindeers with red noses, with a post-it note sitting on top. 

In your always-neat printing, it reads: “Sorry I couldn’t be there to welcome you home. Hope this is enough of a substitute for my congratulatory kiss (for now xoxo). Love you, I’m so proud of you.” 

He opens the tin, smiling a real, eye-crinkling smile when he sees what you’ve left him. Your homemade fudge brownies were a fan-favourite, never lasting more than a day whenever you made them. You weren’t a special occasion baker, your philosophy being that it was never not time for brownies, and he certainly wasn’t going to complain. Except this time, you adorned each brownie with a Hershey’s kiss, and the cheekiness of it all has Auston laughing, nodding his head as if you could see that yes, this was enough for now, enough to make him feel like you were there supporting him. He’s about to take out his phone to check your flight status, to see if he can call you to thank you, when Travis comes bouncing into the kitchen, and whether he was buzzed about the game or on wine coolers, Auston wasn’t sure.   

“What are you.. woah did she make us brownies? I fucking love her brownies, dude. Bring em out!” 

Travis grabs Auston’s arm, and he’s too tired, too blissfully happy to resist, happy about the win, happy about the brownies, happy that his teammates have welcomed you in so lovingly, so he allows himself to be pulled into the group, and as he joins in the celebrations, he knows you’re right there with him. You always are, and you always will be.

..........

He’s got his hands hooked under your legs, grasp unforgiving as you squirm beneath him. His touch is liquid fire, each finger spreading heat through your belly as he digs into the soft flesh of your hips. You’ll bruise tomorrow, and he might wake up to a bald patch with how tightly you’re pulling on his hair, but you can’t really think about it, can’t really think about anything when Auston’s mouth is on your pussy.   

You groan as his tongue juts into your folds, and it only encourages him to pull your body even closer to his face. You’re really wet, cum dripping down the junction of your leg, right onto Auston’s chin, and it dribbles down, soaking the bed sheet beneath you.   

“Aus,” you murmur, “I’m not gonna last if you keep this up.”     

He had been relentless in his teasing all night. Fingers wandering up your thigh, sneaking under the hem of your little black dress, hidding by his professional demeanor and the white table cloth. As he walked to the podium to accept his award, the applause of the crowd drowned out the flithy things he had murmured into your ear on his way up. 

“The only prize I want is your pussy wrapped tight around my cock when we get home tonight.”   

His comment had left you with goosepumps on your limbs and a throbbing between your legs that hasn’t subsided since. This is how you ended up here, both naked and needy between the sheets of Auston’s California King. Only he wasn’t taking what you thought he wanted, wasn’t stretching you out and slamming his hips into yours the way he usually did on nights like these. It was his night - his big night, his award, his achievement - and he deserved an easy orgasm. You were more than willing to give it to him, to oblige him in any way he wanted. You were prepared to do most of the work. Instead, he head you spread out, spread open for him, propped up on pillows, about to cum for the the third time in a row, and he hadn’t even touched or let you touch his leaking cock.   

“Aus,” you repeat your earlier plea, only this time it comes out as a whine - he’s got you past a point of no return and you know that you’ll come again whether he fucks you or not. 

“It’s okay bub, you can come again. Fuck, I need you to come.” 

Everything is heightened as he pulls you a little closer, spreads your legs a little wider, sucks you into his mouth a little harder. It’s enough. Stars cloud your vision and there’s a tingling in your tummy and your legs shake around his head and you collapse back into the pillows in a state of tired bliss.   

You feel the mattress dip, and Auston places a wet kiss to your temple before stumbling into the bathroom. You watch him walk, focusing on the curve of his bum and the dimples in his back as he disappears behind the door. Water runs down the sink, and he’s back a moment later with a damp washcloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Placing the cup on the nightstand, he takes his time with you, swiping the cloth up your thighs, cleaning you up, careful to avoid your sensitive mound. When he’s done, he exchanges the cloth for one of his t-shirts off the top of the hamper, passing it to you before dropping back into bed.   

Hands still shaking from your high, you reach over for his upright cock. You know he can’t be comfortable right now, and you want to get him off, want to watch him fall apart in your fingertips - but he stops you. He grabs your wrist and pulls it and you to his chest, bringing the blanket up to cover both of your bodies.

“What about you?” you ask, voice still hoarse, “Tonight was supposed to be about you.”   

“No baby,” he says, voice thick and heavy, his throat still coated in your cum, “all you. Couldn’t have done it without you. Wanted to thank you, wanted to thank you for always supporting me, even when I’m on the other side of the country. Can’t do this -“ he pauses, trailing his fingers back down to your thigh, fingers curling into the hair between your legs, and his touch combind with his sultry, fucked-out voice is almost enough to bring you back to the edge for the fourth time, - “when I’m on the road, which really blows, because I’m so much better when I’m with you.”   

He leans in to kiss you, soft and slow and he tastes like you and his toothpaste and as his tongue swirls into yours, you know that you’d rather have him like this sometimes than never at all.

..........

You know things aren’t good - no, they’re bad, really bad - before they even carry him off the ice. Your boyfriend is tough to break, a stone-cold wall who doesn’t fight back, doesn’t get emotional, but he had taken the chirping a bit too far tonight, and it had earned him a brutal hit. Your chest tightens, hands shake, and Sydney takes the wine glass from your hand before you spill it all over her carpet.   

“I’m sure he’s fine - just fine.” She offers, but it doesn’t reach you. If he was fine, he would have gotten up. If he was fine, he would have been back on both skates, watching the asshole who jumped him head for the penalty box. Instead, his face was in his hands, helmet somewhere across the ice, and there are too many people covering him and you can’t see if your boyfriend is okay - he has to be okay. Everyone in the room is holding their breath, watching the Leafs staff carry their star centre off the ice. It’s a familiar feeling to most of the women in the room; hockey is a contact sport, a dangerous, violent sport and you know it’s the nature of the game, know that it was bound to happen at some point to someone in this series, but you didn’t think it would be Auston. Didn’t think you would have to be the desperate, pitied girlfriend of an injured hockey player.   

He’s off the ice and play is resumed, but you can’t even see the game - only Auston lying on the ice, the camera panning out to Babcock’s worried face, the staff coming and going from the tunnel, whispering, covering their mouths from the camera. It only takes about fifteen minutes, though it feels like hours, for the call to come in. You’re so out of it, so caught up in a downward spiral of “what ifs” that you don’t even realize Christina is talking to you until she puts your phone in your hand.   

“Yes, she’s right here, hold on.”   

You take the phone, bring it up to your ear, and there’s an instant sigh of relief when you hear your boyfriend’s voice. 

“I’m okay,” is all he says, and though you know he’s lying for your comfort, it works, because he’s speaking and he’s conscious and he remembers you and that’s all you needed to hear to stop yourself from completely dissociating. “Just a small fracture, maybe a mild concussion, they don’t know for sure yet, but I’m okay. Just wanted to call you in case you were watching, in case you saw it.”

You suck in a breath. The pain in his voice his obvious, his breathing uneven, but it doesn’t sound nearly as bad as it could have been. You know he’ll beat himself up mentally for the break he’ll have to take, for not being able to help out his teammates, more than anyone on the ice ever could physically. “Of course I was watching. Do you want me there?” You ask, hoping he says yes. You think you might need to see him more than he needs you, need to press your palm to his heart to make sure that fucker is still beating, need to flick him for scaring you so badly.   

“You don’t need to-“ 

You don’t let him finish. “Not what I asked. Do you want me there? With you?” “I always want you here.” He replies, and it’s quiet, a whisper - he’s never been very good at being vulnerable, and you know that even admitting to you that he’s been injured was not an easy thing for him to do.   

“Then I’ll be there,” you say simply, like Boston isn’t 1000km away, like you’re just going to run a quick errand to the drugstore. 

“I love you,” you say, already on your way to your bedroom to pack a bag.  

“I love you,” he says, and his voice doesn’t sound as shaky, as panicked, as it did just a few minutes ago. You were showing up for him, just as you always did. 

..........

It’s not their usual locker-room talk. It’s eleven in the morning, half-past the end of a regular Tuesday morning skate. Mitch is in the middle of the room, trying to teach Matt how to do some ridiculously elaborate handshake, while Curtis and Kappy talk to Coach about some power play drills they had run through. Naz is lying on the therapy table getting his hamstring worked on, and Travis is shuffling through a Drake playlist that blasts from the speaker on the wall.  Willy is wandering through it all, lost in his own world with his ass on full display, looking for his other skate. The rest of the boys bustle around, trying to pack up. It’s chaotic, really chaotic, but for once Auston appreciates the noise. It allowed him to slip out unnoticed, Patty following closely behind.   

When they’re finally alone, the door shut behind them, Auston pulls the small velvet box from his pocket and hands it to his teammate. Patrick takes the box, opening the lid to look at the ring. He’s the first person to see it - the first person Auston has decided to tell - and he doesn’t take that responsibility lightly. He knows how proud of himself Auston must be, knows the nervous excitement, the effort it’s taking him to squash his rising fear of rejection. Patrick reaches out, his firm grip clasping down on Auston’s shoulder. Giving a light squeeze and a few finger pats, encouraging the boy to stop bouncing, he embraces the fatherly role he’s taken on. “I’m impressed, kid. I always knew you had it in you.” 

Auston looks at Patrick in surprise. “You did?”   

“Absolutely, Although, you know, to be honest, I didn’t think it would be this soon. Not that it’s too soon, but, you know, I just meant that I didn’t think you’d find your perfect match right away. I thought there would be a few more ’almost’ is all. ” He’s rambling now, trying to find the right words to calm the clearly anxious boy.   

Auston smiles at that. “Me n’either, man.” He replies, and he smiles, the bright, beautiful, toothy smile usually reserved only for his girl.   

“How’d you know?” Patrick asks, wanting to know exactly what’s running through Auston’s head. He wants to include it as an anecdote in his wedding speech.   

It’s a loaded question, the answer a bullet capable of ripping through even the most solid relationships. Why do you pick the person you think you want to spend a lifetime with? It’s the biggest commitment he’ll make in his lifetime, but Auston doesn’t hesitate when he answers.

“It’s the little things, man. It’s laundry and tampons and eating out and birthdays and kisses and singing in the car. All the little things. The big things, the hard things, aren’t so bad because with her, the little things are everything. She’s everything.”

[sunnybimbo]

its 4:28 am, i don’t know what this is, and i don’t know what part of me thought it up but please take it and be kind

Keith nurses his bloody nose in the dark of the hallway, locked out of his own room, and tries to convince himself the sting in his nose is from the fracture and not from the tears building up.

He’s not a young ‘punk’ anymore, but he’s right back where he started anyway. He’s older, wiser— or he was supposed to be— but being a defender of the universe didn’t stop him from getting mugged on the side of the road in the middle of the night— because of course it wouldn’t. No one was immune, and Keith was stupid.

He’d been lost in thought so deeply that they’d managed to tackle him to the ground easy. The rest after that was less easy, and he’s sure he’d given them back twice as much as they’d done to him— knife wound to the thigh and bloody nose, obviously— but they got away with his wallet and his keys, and

His dog tags. Shiro’s dog tags, actually, because they’d gone to a dinky little store and gotten them privately engraved, maybe as a joke or maybe as something more. But now it was gone, lose to the abyss of petty crime, and Keith’s neck felt ripped bare without it. He should’ve kept it safe, kept it in his room and hidden out of sight until he needed it, but he was too cocky these days.

It was a wake-up call, but he wishes it hadn’t been so expensive.

He knows if he turns to Shiro— goes to find him and ask him to nurse him back to health— then Shiro won’t stop until he gets back what Keith lost. It won’t be worth it, whatever resources Shiro spends, least of all his time, but he wouldn’t care— and that’s why Keith is having a mental breakdown in the middle of the hall of the dorms. He didn’t even live here, technically. More of a courtesy for them, the paladins, to always have somewhere to come back to, but Keith was pretty sure that the sheets they’d been given were still stacked neat at the foot of the bed, waiting to be slid onto the mattress.

Keith slept at home with Shiro, cuddled against the cold under a plush duvet, pressing his cold against Shiro to suck away. And he always did, even if he pinched and tickled Keith’s sides in revenge.

Every time Keith remembers one moment out of the hundreds like that, he’d always been wearing those damn dog tags. Maybe it was karma, for showing off what wasn’t even his— Shiro’d never officially made a ‘statement’ after all. Never said Keith was his, or that he was Keith’s, and Keith usually wasn’t allowed such great things anyway.

Keith knocks his head back against the locked door. Blood rushes back up his nasal cavity, nearly drowning him, but he allows himself to wallow in the self-pity (and red-tinged mucus) for a bit longer.

Footsteps echo down the hall, just one pair of feet, and Keith shoves his shirt back up against his nose, readying the glare he’d shot at a few cadets a few hours past. He’s sure it’s not them— Galra purple eyes are terrifying at 3 a.m.— but it was still a public hallway.

But it’s not a cadet, not a nurse sent to come drag him to medbay, not even a ghost come to punish him. It’s Shiro.

He’s haggard, half put-together like a ripped page in a photo album. He’s stressing the edges of his hairline as he turns the corner, and his eyes— those beautiful cloud-grey eyes—lock onto Keith immediately.

He has blood on his shirt.

Keith shoves himself from the floor, letting his uniform drop flat against his belly again. He can feel his hackles raising like a threatened dog— like a feral cat ready to defend its own.

“What happened?”

He’s surprised at how rough his voice sounds, but it makes sense. Choking on blood and forcing yourself to stop crying does that to a voice box.

Shiro has a million things to say to that question. Keith can tell. He darts forward, and then forces himself to slow. Marches forward to crowd into Keith’s space, and just hovers. He says none of it.

His palms press warm circles against Keith’s cheeks— filling them red as they pleasantly heat up. Garrison halls were kept cool for some reason or another, and Keith had subjected himself to it for a number of hours.

Keith lets himself lean into the touch— the friendly touch— and doesn’t resist as Shiro checks him over. He finds the scratchy, jagged knife wound on his thigh, and sounds as if he’s gotten physically punched in the gut as soon as he passes over it. Keith tries not to flinch away as he’s examined, but Shiro is gentle enough that he doesn’t need to.

“What happened—” Shiro repeats, dropping to his knees to study the injury. Keith had wrapped his t-shirt, the one he wore underneath his uniform, around it, so it’d long ago stopped bleeding. “— is that you’re an idiot.”

Keith flinches at that, instead.

“I know.” He agrees, thinking back to the way they’d jumped him. If only he’d been watching his back instead of having his head in the clouds— if only he’d brought his knife instead of trusting Earth’s streets. He knew better.

“I don’t think you do know.” Shiro says. When he stands again, he’s all sadness, eyes red and lips pink as he worries them with his teeth. “Why didn’t you come find me? Why are you here?”

The accusations sting, and the tone is like a cleaver against bone. “Didn’t wanna worry you.”

If Shiro were a weaker man— if he hadn’t died and been brought back to life and fought a dictator and a sadist and saved the planet— he probably would have stumbled back and fainted on the spot.

He repeats Keith’s words back, quiet. When he reaches for Keith again, the grip is stronger. He circles his arm across Keith’s shoulders and tugs him close, helping him balance even though Keith didn’t really need it.

“Sorry.” Keith says, only partly so. “They took your.... Your tags.”

He’s proud of himself for not choking on the words, even as they twine up in his throat like weeds.

Shiro goes quiet, lost for the briefest second. It almost disappoints Keith— cements what he’s already assumed and made true in his mind, but Shiro lights up again. “You kept them?”

“Of course I did.” He says, aghast.

He steps wrong on his leg and he goes down without a pained noise. Shiro catches him before he face-plants, but his hands shake as they press against the small of his back.

“Tried to, anyway.” Keith adds, teeth gritting.

“Oh, Keith.”

Shiro stands again, hooking himself further under Keith’s arm. He carries him like that, drags him some of the time as the rush of pain drains Keith of all his strengths and all filters.

He trusts Shiro not to take advantage of that— knows he wouldn’t.

Kosmo is waiting outside the front step of their studio apartment. Shiro had insisted on not needing that much space, and Keith had liked having the open floor plan— less dangerous that way— and Kosmo liked being able to watch them from every angle.

Keith is near the point of passing out when Shiro drags him inside. Once they’re past the threshold, and there’s more room, He hooks Keith’s legs over one arm to carry him easier through the living room.

He’s laid on the bed, bloody mess and all, and Shiro leaves him.

Keith doesn’t panic, only because he can see Shiro’s figure— blearily, but enough— as he whirlwinds through the bathroom.

He returns with towels and painful spray to keep away the infection— and a shirt of his for Keith to change into. Keith struggles to sit up, to peel himself from the cloud-pillows he’d sunken into, but Shiro easily urges him back down with one touch.

Keith drifts, and Shiro fixes him. He wipes away the blood, picks at the lines that had dried and crisped at his nose, and washes it away with a warm rag. He passes his lips across Keith’s cracked ones to kiss them better.

Keith didn’t want to be oblivious, but he didn’t want to read into it, either. Not if Shiro would pull away— not if it would get wrenched from him after dangling so close.

Shiro wipes away the hot tears that spill over, and Keith is grateful that the heat blends in with the washcloth.

When he’s wiped up, and Keith has nodded off a couple times, only to come back to life when he sinks to deep and finds himself scared of falling, Shiro still stays.

He watches Keith doze, watches him come out of it ready to fight, and watches him accept the gentle touch to his chest to calm down.

Shiro aches all over, and he wishes he could take away the hurt in Keith, too.

He drags his finger through the thick, long hair that’d grown out of Keith’s head. It’s not a surprise— it’d always been thick when he was younger, but it’s smooth and easy to card through, and Keith’s shoulders relax as he scratches along the scalp.

Shiro braids it up. Into something loose, just to keep it out of the way, and it’s messy in the back where he doesn’t want to lift too much and disturb the lulling rest Keith gets in the early morning dusklight.

When he finishes, Keith’s irises peek at him from beneath his lashes, swimming and dark. Shiro gathers his hand up and squeezes, palm to palm until it feels like Keith isn’t going to float off and disappear on him.

“I’m sorry I lost your dog tags.” Keith whispers. Ashamed.

Shiro fingers at the blood spot on his shirt. Digs around his pocket. Plucks a chain of silver and dangles it in front of Keith’s face before he sets it down against Keith’s shivering palm.

He doesn’t explain how he got it, doesn’t explain the wallet and keys the he plucks from his chest pocket, either, and Keith isn’t sure he wants to know.

From the back of his mind, he feels a self-satisfied rumble echo. The Black Lion and the Atlas-Captain used to be the same person, after all.

Keith lets the trinket dangle in front of his face, would be shocked silent if not for the unbidden whimpers that build up.

“I— didn’t realize you still had them.” Shiro admits. Ashamed. Keith’s were probably lost to space, taken and burned along with everything else Shiro had had on him when he was stolen from Pluto.

“Always.” Keith breathes. He presses the engraved metal against his lips, breathing in the sharp tang of aluminum. “I love you.”

It comes out reflexively, brought forth by the habitual practice Keith had taken to when he was much younger, and he’s mortified how easy it slips out.

Shiro sighs. He rests his head against the bone of Keith’s hip, savoring the heat Keith radiates. “I love you, too.”

“Like a brother.” Keith replies, wryly. He presses the tags to his chest, to calm his heartbeat.

A gentle touch, to brush away the hair that’d fallen out of its braid.

“I love you,” Shirogane Takashi repeats, “The way you love me.”

He’s sure of it, from the way he says it. Keith didn’t want to be oblivious but— he shakes as Shiro kisses him again, soul heavy and spilling like an overflowed pool.

Kosmo climbs onto the bed to settle beside him, staring him directly down to the core. Keith lets his head fall back, and Shiro pulls back with one more squeeze. The covers tuck across Keith’s chest; the shirt useless now, because Shiro isn’t sure how he’d get it on without disturbing him again.

Keith wasn’t sure how he was allowed to have something so great— something so precious as love from the one he loved, too, but

The dog tags were a pretty good reminder.