#my progress has been slow because of my heat sickness

[nocturnal-impala]

Hello again!

The progress for episode 7 part 1 is now 65% complete!

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond - s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Five: Somewhere in the Crowd There’s You

a/n: here’s chapter five of my purely self-indulgent fun — a little later than i anticipated because i was sick and got a little derailed. we are half way now and things will be heating up in the next few chapters, haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings/tags: (10k words); mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

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“You sent too much money.” 

It’s your father’s voice that spills down the other line. Gruff in a way that alerts you your fears aren’t for naught, as he’s likely had many sleepless nights since the last you spoke. You recall days as a child, when your mother had been sick, and your father would stay awake all hours of the night, if only to clean up the house so she didn’t have to. To make sure that her worries were only meant to be on getting better and resting. 

“I…have a business and it’s going well,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip. 

Across the room, Steve’s fluffing pillows and putting a champagne bottle on ice. Your guests will be here soon, likely within the next few minutes, though when your father’s name flashed across your screen you knew you needed to answer. 

“Only a few clients now, but I’m hopeful I’ll pick up more,” you continue, exhaling deeply. “I want you to have it. I know Caroline mentioned needing new shoes. Please let me do this.”

There’s a long pause. “Okay, okay. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Clinical year at school, newly married, and now a businesswoman. How is my son-in-law?”

“He’s…” 

Steve rushes into the kitchen where you’re standing, hands curling around either of your hips to shift you away from the refrigerator so he can pull out the charcuterie board you had commissioned for the evening’s gathering. 

“He’s really great. He’s been busy since we got back from our honeymoon, but he’s doing really well.”

Ever since your moment days ago in the kitchen, after Steve had pushed aside picking you up and opted to send Hopper in his stead, your relationship has taken new form. True to his word, Steve started a new habit of not answering his phone after you're done with your clinicals for the evening. Afternoons now had been spent watching your shows together on nights you didn’t have prior engagements with his coworkers, merely existing in the same room together, becoming…friends. 

Literal friends, in the truest sense of the word. And it’s more than you can ask for, though you can’t lie that even the slightest touches leave you a little breathless. There’s also the kisses to the back of your hand at dinner, the way he curls his palm around the top of your thigh while his coworkers regale a particularly interesting story, the lingering press of his mouth against your forehead when he’s feeling especially doting in mixed company. 

Progress. 

You’re making progress. 

“I actually should go and help him. We have company this afternoon. His cousin and wife are visiting us for the first time since the wedding. Still getting used to hosting gatherings as a couple, you know?” There’s a chuckle on the other end, and you know him well enough to imagine the slow shake of his head. “I love you so much and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

The line clicks, leaving you to witness Steve elbow deep in the sink, washing your coffee mugs from earlier that morning. Your eyes slide to the perfectly operational dishwasher on his right side, though you can’t deny that the sight of your husband, bare arms shifting and moving as he works, is a lovely one. None the wiser of your ogling, you step forward to him, elbow leaning down against the counter. 

“You know, the dishwasher is empty,” you point out. 

“I am perfectly capable of cleaning a few dishes,” he grouses, rinsing a cup and settling it in the drying rack. “I also need to keep moving. Getting antsy now that they’re running late.”

“Hey, Steve?” You step closer, your front brushing his hip. He shakes his head as you do so, a laugh breaking free from his mouth as you grip his arms and still him in his frantic movements. “Put the sponge down. And the plate. The fork, too.”

The three items plunk down into the sink, a loud clatter in your otherwise silent home. Fingers curl around a hand towel and he reaches over to grasp his wedding ring, pushing it back into place against his knuckle. One thing you’ve found, and you particularly enjoy, is the fact Steve’s never taken off his ring. Not once. Even under the false pretenses of marriage, seeing him wearing a symbol of your union, of the vows you shared some time ago now, erupts dozens of bees into your bloodstream. Humming, buzzing, igniting your every nerve ending with electricity. 

“Are you okay,” you ask, hand coming to rest against his back. 

It’s the softest brush, and yet he turns his head all the same, hazel eyes meeting yours, and then trailing up the inside of your arm to where you’re touching. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says unconvincingly, shifting to face you now. That arm drops as he does so, but is replaced by his two large hands cupping your biceps. “Just want to get through this afternoon and then I’ll be much happier.”

Your mouth opens to speak, to ask him why the stress over this afternoon, when his phone rings and the doorman lets him know Theobald and Cami have finally arrived. It’s not the first time you’ve met them. The first had been at your wedding, where introductions to most of Steve’s friends and extended family were done so in a rapid fire manner. They’d been kind enough; as much as one can be in a two minute conversation wherein you welcomed them and thanked them for coming to celebrate your “special day” with the love of your life. 

But now, seeing them there in the flesh, brought a new wave of nervousness into your belly. Theobald Cletus, with his dark hair that resembles Steve’s, with tan skin and the beginnings of wrinkles that crease his forehead and around the corners of his mouth. And beside him, his stunning wife with silky red curls that fell to her waist in ringlets, delicately freckled cheeks, and impossibly green eyes. Ethereal—she looked ethereal and, by your guessing, quite a bit younger than her husband standing with a hand against the smallest point of her back. 

As your mouth opens to speak and welcome them into your home, Cami rushes forward, curling her arms around your shoulders in a frighteningly tight hug that has you wincing and peering over your shoulder to your husband. Steve only shrugs as he steps forward and cups his hand around his cousin’s, only to be tugged forward into a hug of his own. 

“Theobald, you’ve met my wife,” Steve finally says once you’ve managed to extract yourself from Cami long enough to sidle back up to him, his arm settling around your waist, palm curling affectionately around your hip. One of the appropriate touches you’ve discussed, and yet it has your head spinning all the same. 

Just as it does every time. 

“Ah, yes.” His eyes flicker to yours. Darker than your husband’s, corners twitching as his lips curl into a smile. “The new Mrs. Harrington. How could I forget that whirlwind affair?”

Head dipping uncomfortably, you press your palm against Steve’s where it rests against your hip, sliding your fingers between his to lace them tight. “It was pretty crazy, wasn’t it?” Awkwardly laughing, you turn to look to Steve for support. “Should we take this into the living room?”

“Please!” Cami exclaims, flicking her hair over her shoulders. “I would love to hear all about the honeymoon. I want all the details. Should we be expecting any little Harringtons soon?”

Just as you say, “Absolutely not,” Theobald echoes, “My cousin loves kids. Always wanted a brood of them.”

It’s expected, you think. It’s a common question after marriage, no matter how inappropriate. Society says once you’re married you’re to obviously have children next. Frankly, it’s archaic and a ridiculous practice. And even so, Theobald’s words strike a sudden sadness into your chest. This thought that Steve so deeply wants children. A thought you could completely see come to fruition based on his interactions with El and Will alone. They’d been immediately endeared to him. All wide eyes and bright laughter, vibrant conversation, his endless bantering with them. 

Steve Harrington would be a good father to his future children one day with his real wife. Not the woman you are to him for the next three years. 

However, it’s at this moment you rationalize the error in your plans. A real couple would have had these conversations about future children already. 

“Not now, at least,” you giggle airily, curling your arm around Steve’s and tugging him close. His brows furrow as you add, “Right now I’m just enjoying spending time with my husband. I want to be a little selfish for a while yet.”

“Understandable,” Cami agrees, settling down on your living room couch, crossing her legs and revealing a stunning pair of Gucci pumps that likely cost your half of the rent while still living with Robin. “I love our two little gremlins, but they take up all our free time. Constantly running them around to school events, dance classes, sporting events.”

“Sweetheart, the au pair does all of that,” Theobald chuckles, earning a whack in the arm from his wife. “Enough about that. Tell me…how did you two meet? It all happened so fast.”

“As you already pointed out,” Steve warns, hand around yours growing tighter. 

Cami moves to open the champagne bottle, easing the tension in the room with the echoing pop. Glasses are poured and passed around the table, glasses coming together in a soft ‘cheers’ before you bring the champagne flute to your lips and take a large swallow. Bubbles burst against your tongue, eyes training on Theobald’s, just as he passes a look your way. 

A battle of wills then, you think. 

“We met at a party,” you begin, removing your hand from Steve's and gripping the bottom of his chin, shifting him enough that he’s looking at you. “We’d known each other for a bit through our mutual friend, and we’d always kind of danced around one another. In the same spaces always, yet too nervous to make the first move.”

Steve watches you carefully as you weave your tale that isn’t really a tale. It’s mostly the truth, with the romance added in. But it comes naturally. Pours out of you with an unexpected ease that has Cami leaning into her husband’s shoulder, green eyes twinkling as you speak. 

“And then one afternoon, Stevie bought me a drink and walked it over to where I was standing by myself. My friend had just left to use the restroom, and here he stood…all tall, dark, and handsome. We started talking that night and just realized how easy it was to be around one another. I’d never talked so much on a first date, and yeah—I considered that our first date. After that we spent nearly every day together. It didn’t take long for us both to realize we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Some might think it was rushed, but there’s that saying, right? When you know, you know. And with my school starting up again, and us wanting so badly to get married, we thought no time like the present. Now here we are.”

For emphasis, you lean forward. Close enough that Steve’s eyes cross, his mouth dropping a hint at the corners, before twitching upward when your lips press against the corner of his mouth. A tentative press of your skin just barely against his. You linger with your forehead against his, trying not to focus on the temperature in the room, or how it feels it’s creeping higher and higher with every passing moment you remain connected to him. 

“Here we are,” Steve echoes, breath fanning against your bottom lip. 

Were you to even move an inch, your mouths would connect. A thought he must have as well, because he brings his thumb up and taps your bottom lip gently, nuzzling your nose until you hear the excitable clapping of Cami’s hands where she’s sitting on the living room touch. Pushing the hem of your summer dress down back around your knees, you shift and take in the older man sitting across from you. His eyes are narrowed on your face, a twitch not unnoticed in his cheek as he jolts to his feet and suggests Steve and him have a little bit of time as ‘cousins’ on the private patio. Noticing your hesitance at him leaving your side, Steve brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, pours you another glass of champagne, and promises he’ll be right back. 

With the door closed and the men left to their own devices, you look over to Cami. Cami, the picture of beauty. An image of a woman who walks in this world of the elites and has no qualms about it; steps into it and commands it, whereas you’re still walking around on wobbly legs like a baby deer. Even her clothes look like they were made for her. Luxurious fabrics that ebb and flow with her every movement, high neck of her summer dress leading to a gorgeous diamond necklace falling to the hollow of her throat. 

Across from her, your dress suddenly feels too tight. Gifted by your mother-in-law who insisted she owned her own fashion line, and therefore absolutely must dress her only daughter. A quick phone call wherein you protested her suggestions ended with a ring from the doorman alerting you a delivery of multiple garments had arrived for you. Various dresses for each occasion, pants, shoes, blouses and anything you could imagine ever needing were added to your closet. All elaborate in design, and becoming for a new wife to the CEO of a major contracting company. The biggest the city touted, if you were completely honest with yourself. 

Today you wore an off the shoulder floral patterned dress and the diamond earrings gifted by your mother-in-law as a bridal shower gift. You’d pushed aside the thought of heels for the afternoon; instead opted for a comfy pair of sandals that were maybe in their last season of use, but now they only looked garish in the light beside the Gucci pumps on Cami’s feet. 

Comparison, this ugly weed of a thing, grew up within you against your better wishes. Robbed you of what little air fell in and out of your lungs as you sat there, sipping your champagne. You didn’t care for these preconceived ideas of what a Harrington wife should look like, right? You were your own person, had been long before him, and would continue to be so after him. Yet sitting there, watching her gracefully move about the room, and commenting on the pictures you’d added from the wedding, reminds you of how some people were meant for this life. Some people were raised for it. 

You were not. 

“He looks so in love with you,” Cami trills, fingers running along the silver edge of your photo frame, lifting it nearer to her face for inspection. You know exactly which one it is. Jonathan had told the two of you to look one another in the eyes and press your foreheads together. He’d draped your veil over the both of you, the setting sun basking you both in a golden hour halo. It’s dreamy. A shot so dreamy it’s easy to believe it is of a man deeply in love with his bride. “That new love look. Cherish it. You know how these Harrington men are.”

Actually…you don’t. 

You’re not interested in even asking her what she intends by her words, but when she places the photo back down and turns your way, there’s a glimmer of something wet on her lower lashes. Awkwardly, you clear your throat, reaching over and offering to refill her glass. She heartily accepts, fingers combing through long amber locks as she settles back down on the couch across from you, crossing her legs once more. Again, she’s the statuesque image of perfection; cracks visible in her foundation, yet devastatingly beautiful all the same. 

“You’ve got the best one,” she sniffles, grasping a piece of cheese and a cracker within her index and pointer. “Stevie is a sweetheart. Always has been. Theobald is hard on him, and I always try to tell him to ease up. The late Mr. Harrington was always so rough on his son as it is without Theo breathing down his neck.”

The late Mr. Harrington. 

You knew very little of him. From what you’ve gathered—the very scraps of things here and there, as Steve never really mentioned him—their relationship, while his father had been alive, was a strained one. His parents had him later in life; a quick Google search would show as much. The heir to the company born with a silver platter before him, wanting for naught, pushed into the limelight. 

Still, hearing Cami talk about Steve…with pity—grief tightens like a vice around your heart. Envisioning those hazel eyes of your husband, staring up expectantly at a man who never saw his son’s achievements for what they were. And now, at his young age, trying to make his late father proud at the expense of his own self. 

Long hours, constant meetings, coaching calls. Pushing, striving, hustling.

With a long sigh, you glance toward the outside patio, where you can see your husband with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His left hand curls around the stem of his glass, hand gesticulating wildly in the air as he talks with Theobald, hair in disarray. Like he’s been raking his fingers through it. Eyes trail his shoulders next, along the contours of sinewy muscle, then further up where you can visibly see the rigidity in his form. 

“Steve is…” 

Your voice breaks, eyes tipping downward to your bubbly drink in hand. Cami’s fingers curl around your wrist, a sympathetic frown lining her pristine features, and you know she’s thinking you’re caught up in your emotions. But in reality, it’s because there are so many things he is, all of which swirl like a muddied mess in your hazy mind. 

“Steve is a good man. He’s the best man. I’m really lucky to have him.”

When you glance up, there he is, grin gracing his features. It’s plain as day he’s heard you; those stiff shoulders slacken. Tension eases from the curve of his mouth, as well as in the grip of his fingers around his glass. Instead his face morphs into elation, feet carrying him over to where you sit so he can once more slide an arm around your waist and tug you close. 

Theobald regards you carefully in the distance, taking in the way you slide into the crook of your husband’s chest, seeking the warmth of him. The comfort of someone in your corner, seated in a room ripe with scrutiny. 

“Thank you,” Steve whispers against your ear, just as Cami dives into conversation about her and Theo’s children, revealing photo after photo of their adorable faces on her iPhone screen. 

“We’re the Harringtons, aren’t we?” 

He chuckles brightly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Day shifts into evening.

Conversations drift around lighter topics. Talks of your schooling, your plans for the future, the business you’ve started. A fact which, to your unamusement, Theobald finds more than mildly intriguing when he later corners you in the kitchen as Steve and Cami flip through the photos she had taken at the wedding on her phone (despite Steve’s pitying gazes for you to rescue him). Instead, you’d offered to start cleaning up, knowing your husband and you had dinner plans with another couple from the office. 

“A dog walking business…” He mutters, elbow dropping down onto the counter. “How quaint.”

“It’s extra money,” you say simply, placing a watery glass into the drying rack. “You’re a businessman, aren’t you? Isn’t it better to make all my money now while I’m younger?”

“That I am. And I would agree,” he murmurs, eyes trailing your profile. “It’s just curious since you know how wealthy your husband is. He’s CEO of the company now, and that’s not even counting the hefty inheritance he got as the sole Harrington son. That kind of money is generational. He could never work another day in his life and be well off.”

“My husband is supportive of my endeavors,” you grumble out, training your eyes on the kitchen backsplash. 

“Obviously,” he agrees goodnaturedly. “He loves you. Everyone can see it. All of a sudden our hard working golden child is leaving the office at normal times, running home to his lovely wife. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

Heat flashes like lava in your gut over the revelation that your ruse is working. It’s hindered by Theobald’s latter statement, mind stuttering over his blasé persona. The question as to whether or not Steve knows what he’s doing. Trying to hide your piqued interest, you harden your expression into one of neutrality. 

As your mouth opens to speak, Cami cuts you off with a shrill, “Theobald, they have to get ready for their dinner. We’ve overstayed our welcome. But I would absolutely love for us to do this again!”

Uncertain if you’re happy or sad about this latest development because you still needed further clarity over Theo’s words, you place the remaining glasses into the drying rack and slide your rings back into place, pressing yourself into Steve’s side as he approaches. For a dramatic flair, you even press your left hand to his abdomen, rings glinting in the light, head leaning against his chest as you wish them a wonderful rest of their evening. 

Theobald gives you one last fleeting look just when his wife nearly strangles you in another bear hug, and claps a hand against his younger cousin’s shoulder. “We will definitely have to do this again. It was nice officially meeting you, Mrs. Harrington.”

The doors slide closed and a sigh spills from your lips. Against you, Steve relaxes, hand rubbing up and down the length of your spine idly, eyes still fixed on the doors across from him. Slipping away from him, you quickly gather the rest of the snacks and glasses from the living room table and drop them down into the sink, pinching at the bridge of your nose. 

“Is he always like that?” You wonder out loud, whirling around to face Steve. 

His head jerks at your words, mouth pulling southward. The solidness of his right hip rests against the kitchen counter. You try to not dawdle on the way his bicep twitches as it rests on the surface beside him, nor as his fingers sprawl around the base of his jaw, keeping his head propped up. 

“He’s usually worse,” he admits. “What did he say to you?” 

“Just commented on my business,” you tell him, deciding to ease in with that before asking what his cousin had meant by ‘hoping Steve knows what he’s doing’, moving to place a plate in the drying rack. “He couldn’t seem to fathom how I would resort to the life of a peasant, when I should be rolling around in your endless buckets of money.”

Snorting, he teases, “Someone’s angry.”

“Yeah, and for once not at you, so I’d be thankful.” Your nose wrinkles as he barks out a laugh, head tipping back in his glee. Mirth bubbles up within your belly at the lyrical sound spilling from your husband, the way his cheeks stretch wide on his face, how the corners of his eyes crinkle in his happiness. “I told him I liked what I do. Is that so wrong? I like having my own thing. Just like you have your own thing.”

Without a warning, he turns the water off. Grips your shoulders lightly, turning you to him. “Theo is an entitled idiot, okay? He thinks he runs the company and the world, and anyone who doesn’t live like him is beneath him. Notice how he’s got this constant look on his face of disgust?”

At that, your lips twitch. Steve coaxes it further by shaking you slightly, earning a giggle. “He does kind of look like he hates everyone around him. It’s a wonder he married Cami. She seems sweet.”

“She is sweet. A saint for putting up with him for all these years, honestly,” Steve says, giving you one last shake until you’re wiping your hands off and slouching against his frame. “What?”

“I want a selfish hug,” you grumble against his shirt, face pressing into a sternum. 

“A selfish hug?” You can hear the questioning lilt, the probing in his kind voice. 

Nodding, you step closer. The tips of your sandals meet his leather shoes, hem of your dress spilling over the dark material. Your head shifts just the slightest, ear resting over the curve of his chest, relishing in the warmth of another body. This. Hugging? It’s not new. You’ve been practicing. As odd as that sounds, and though you don’t want to unpack it, since your argument with Steve he’s come home every day and greeted you with one. You’d say you’re pros at this point. 

“And what might a selfish hug be?” He muses, hands coming up to rest against the center of your back. 

“I just stand like this,” you begin, dropping your arms to your sides, letting them dangle at your hips. “And you hold me.”

You can feel the vibration of his laugh against your ear, but his arms tighten around you all the same, holding you in place. Melting into him, you rest in the comfort of his embrace. Merely focus on the sound of his breath pouring in and out of his lungs, the gentle beat of his heart beneath your ear, the brush of his thumb against your skin, soothing you. 

“You’re too much,” he says, but there’s no weight behind the words. Can feel his mouth curling upward against your ear. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

For the evening. For helping you in a time of need. For holding you now. For holding you tomorrow. You’re not really sure you know what you mean. But all you do know for certain is that, when his arms tug you closer, you loop yours around his waist, and your selfish hug becomes a real one. 

-

Lightning streaks the sky. Bright white illuminates your bedroom, then settles into dark once more. A loud boom echoes, rattling the foundations of your home. Jolts your bed, and thus your body out of it. Grasping at your chest, you try to tamper the frantic rise and fall. The rush of breath forcing itself in and out of your screaming lungs, ejected from your dreams into waking so suddenly. 

Another flash sparks your room in a moonlit glow. Falls dark a second later as you brace for the crack of sound that pierces your ears after. Groaning, you grasp the edge of a fluffy blanket on the foot of your bed and curl it around your shoulders, padding through your home in search of the living room, sights set on watching Netflix until you fall back asleep from reruns of your favorite shows. 

Only upon entering, you find you’re not alone. Already doused in colorful light from the episode of New Girl playing on the screen is none other than your husband. Where you’re standing you can see the frames of the thin glasses he wears, the unkempt bed hair at the top of his head, the hoodie pulled over his body to block out the air conditioned chill in the living room. 

“You’re awake…” It comes out hoarse, the rasp of your voice drawing your husband’s attention. “And you’re watching without me?” 

The mock gasp has him moving over on the couch to make space for you, your rear dropping down into the couch cushion beside him. There’s another blanket across his lap, impossibly soft and a pretty navy color that pops against the pale fabric of your carpet. Getting comfortable, you unloop yours from around your shoulders and drape it across your bare thighs, sleep shorts doing very little to block out the chill in the air. Once satisfied, you lean back and watch the chaos between Jess and Nick unfolding on the television screen. 

“What are you doing awake?” you ask after some time. Wince as another boom of thunder rattles the walls of your home.  

“Couldn't sleep,” he says, breaking off into a yawn. “Had a lot on my mind.”

“From dinner or…?” 

Dinner itself hadn’t been stressful—at least nothing that occurred would have alluded to as much. You’d met up at an Italian restaurant with a business partner of Steve’s and the business partner’s husband. Two older men in their fifties, with graying hair and a kindness that radiated from them. Most of the conversation had been of things outside of work, so you’re uncertain as to what might be bothering him. 

“Not dinner,” he confirms, pausing the show on the TV screen. His head rolls back to rest against the plush cushion, hands coming up to press into his face. Slides his palm down the contours, exhaling deeply. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”  

“Oh,” you mutter softly, picking at a nonexistent thread on the edge of your blanket. “That’s fine. I just figured—”

“It’s nothing personal toward you. I just don’t want to bother you with it. Why are you up?” He queries, head turning to look in your direction. 

“You never bother me.”

Steve levels you with a blank stare and you laugh. “I’m not afraid of thunder…but it definitely woke me,” you admit quietly, sounding more than a forlorn without meaning to. “My room gets really dark at night with the curtains, so when it lit up from the lightning I was a little spooked.”

“Understandably,” he says. “Want me to grab you coffee or tea or something?” 

Head perking up, you ask, “Do we still have the camomile? If it’s no trouble, I mean…”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if it was,” he says, but there’s no hint of any condescension there, only his increasingly familiar thoughtfulness.

You lean your chin over the top of the couch to catch the retreating form of Steve’s back swathed in his dark hoodie. “Thank you.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, starting up your warm drink. “Want anything else? We still have those chocolate covered strawberries from dinner.”

“Do you want the chocolate strawberries from dinner?” 

His grin turns wry. “Maybe.”

“Bring them over, you grown up baby,” you tease, extending a hand so he can place the covered plate in your awaiting palm. 

Peeling back the tinfoil, you rest the tray on the coffee table, hiking your blanket higher around your thighs. Steve’s pouring hot water into a mug that says ‘Future Veterinarian,’ humming a familiar tune as he works. 

“You usually do honey and…a bucket load of sugar, right?” 

Eyes roll. “I like a spoonful of honey in my camomile and nothing else. The sugar is for my iced coffees, thank you very much. Also thank you for making sure Hopper always has it on standby lately.”

“What’s that thing you said to me when we first talked about us getting married?” He taps his chin mock thoughtfully, his other hand twirling a spoon around the inside of your cup. “Happy wife, happy life starts with always knowing her coffee order.”

It’s true, and you hide your lips behind your palm at the realization he’d been listening as he crosses the space between you and rests the steaming mug in your hand, muttering quickly, “Be careful, it’s really hot.” 

“Thank you,” you say as he drops back down into the couch and plucks a chocolate covered strawberry off the tray. “I know you didn’t want to talk about what’s bothering you…but I figure…I don’t know. It’s storming out, we’re both not getting much sleep tonight, we could play a game or something.”

“A game?”

Nodding, you add, “An icebreaker. I know we talk more now, but we could try and get to know each other better. A little look into the person we married.”

Your husband shifts on the couch beside you. Presses his back into the arm rest and stretches out, arching a brow pointedly. Smirking, you do the same. Shift just enough so your back is up against the opposite end, your socked feet just barely brushing Steve’s. 

“Okay. Night out or night in?” you ask. 

“Before…night out.”

“Before?”

“Well, now you force me to watch Gilmore Girls.”

“I don’t force you! And it’s only been a few days. I’m sure it’s an absolute horror of spending time with the woman you fake married,” you gasp, feigning terror. “Just admit it. You like spending time at home.”

His eyes are set on yours as he says, “I like spending time at home.”

“I’d agree for myself as well. Life is so busy as it is lately, it’s nice having a space to come back to.” 

One thing you’re very grateful for on a growing list is the space your new bedroom has given you. Sure, it can get lonely, but it’s an escape from the long days, a haven from stress, a bed to crawl back to when your eyes can hardly stay open any longer after a particularly hard day at clinicals. 

“My turn,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his middle. And no, you don’t allow heat to crawl across your chest at the mere sight of his chest and arms flexing from the motion. “Would you rather go forward or backward in time?”

“And what would be my purpose of going forward or backward? Am I rectifying my mistakes? Seeing the future? Looking to see how my life pans out?”

“I…it’s whatever you want it to be.” He blanches. 

“I don’t really have a lot of regrets in life. I make a choice and however the cookie crumbles is how it crumbles. Exhibit A,” you say, holding aloft your left hand, where two rings glint in the dim living room. “So I probably would want to go forward. But that’s dangerous, because if you go too far forward, you might see things you don’t like. I definitely wouldn’t want to know how I, uh, you know? Check out of here. What about you?”

Steve pauses for a moment, brows drawn in thought. “Honestly? There are things I’d want to change about the past, sure. But I think I’d want to see the future. See if all I’m doing is worth it, you know?”

“You don’t think what you’re doing right now is worth it?” You wonder if he’s talking about the business. Assume he must be, but don’t press any further. 

“I wonder sometimes, yeah,” he admits. 

“Well, what would you be doing if it weren’t what you’re doing right now? To see if something else would potentially be worth it.”

He rubs a hand along his neck, shrugging. “I thought about being a teacher once. My dad thought that was a silly idea. But I’ve always been good with children, and I think I could have been good at that.”

“You are good with children,” you tell him, thinking to Will and El. To the friends you’d met at dinner in the past weeks who brought their little ones. “I don’t think that’s a silly idea at all. Not in the slightest, and I’m sorry if anyone ever made you feel that way. Like your interests were inconsequential.” 

“Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he asks, “Movie night or date night?” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” His eyes grow wide at that. Cheeks darken visibly in the moonlit living room. “I’m teasing you, Harrington. I think there’s a case that those can be one in the same. I would say broader…I love the idea of going out for a date, but I love those inside sort of dates more. They’re more intimate, there’s the comfort of your shared spaces, the fact there aren’t any crowds around you. Only that important quality time with your partner.”

“I don’t have much to contribute there, seeing as I haven’t dated much in the past year. And now I won’t be for another three years.” He chuckles, combing fingers through his hair.  

“Okay, this question is super serious.” You fold your hands across your midsection, inhaling deeply, eyes shut. “Would you rather have a third nipple or an extra toe?”

“Seriously!” 

“I’m very serious, Steve.”

“Extra toe.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck again, wincing slightly as he presses into a spot between his shoulder blades. 

Your lips tug southward. “Are you hurting?”

“Just my office chair, I’m sure,” he grumbles, nonchalant. 

“Get on the floor.”

His brows arch. “Huh?”

“On the floor,” you repeat, tapping the space in front of you on the carpet below. “In front of me.”

“Why?” 

“Do you trust me?” 

He doesn’t answer. Instead, long limbs slip off the edge of the couch and settle down where you’ve asked. You move to tuck his hoodie in as best as you can, fingers moving to spread across the slope of his shoulders. He exhales deeply at the first press of your hands in the muscle wrought with tension. A low sigh spills free, head tipping back to rest on the cushion nearest to your knee. Fingers crave to brush the hair along his scalp, to see if he’ll make that same, soft sigh once more. But instead you continue, pressing slowly into his flesh, listening to his cues, figuring out what works and doesn’t. 

“Would you rather have a big family or a small one?” You ask after Steve has gone quiet, thinking back briefly to the moment earlier with Theobald and Cami. 

Steve, with his wishes to be a father. Steve, who wants a huge brood of Harrington babies. Steve, who wants a family. 

And yet it’s not even that. Not the questions as to what he sees for his future. It’s the tangible worry of slipping up in your facade. Of revealing too many cracks in the foundations of your dynamics. That had been the first, and you know if this relationship is going to hold up for three years, communication is a must. Absolute transparency at all times, so as to not muck it all up and land yourselves both in some hot water.  

“Growing up, it was just me. My parents had me a little older in their life. They were already further into their careers by the time I was born. So…it was often just the au pair and myself,” he explains, letting go of another deep breath. 

His body slackens against your knee caps. Warm flesh of your husband pliant beneath your fingertips. 

“I always had this dream of giving my kids the opposite of what I had. Always knowing love, family outings, doing everything with them. Dance class, football, acting—whatever they wanted. And I’d wanted as many as possible. A silly dream of six of them, running all over the world together as a family.”

“It’s not a silly dream. None of your dreams are ever silly, Steve.” 

Warmth pools as Steve slides his hand up and covers yours where it rests against his shoulder. Heart stuttering, you continue, “Your family will be lucky to have you some day. I, for one, haven’t given much thought to that aspect of life. I hope Theo and Cami didn’t find that suspect. I just…”

“Have been busy with school. You’re becoming a doctor, that’s time and hard work. No one can fault you for that.”

“Right. Yeah.”

You resume your kneading, fingers stroking at shoulders, down the sides of his neck, attentive to all the tension. He grows softer beneath your fingertips, head against your knee, his eyes closed. Where you’re sitting you can see the moles on his face, the length of his lashes, the lines of his nose. Pretty. He’s pretty, and it’s always something you’ve known, but being so close—

“Sunrise or sunset,” Steve asks. 

“Hmm, sunrise.” You poke at the middle of his forehead, and hazel eyes meet yours. “That one was simple.”

“I could tell you were overthinking,” he says simply. “We’re not going to be perfect at this marriage thing. But no one expects us to be.”

“I still think we need to get our stories straight at the very least. And I sorta messed that one up with the honeymoon baby thing.” You shrug, palms sliding down a bit onto his upper chest. He’s still sitting there, taking you in with his stare, hand around yours. “Kind of why I suggested this game.” 

He offers you a gentle smile, saying, “Then let’s keep going.”

The conversation continues until the sun begins to change colors. Until the rain has since stopped, voices carrying above the television playing low in the background. You learn Steve’s a romantic; loves movies like the Titanic and The Notebook. And will also admit to enjoying some of the same romantic comedies you do. 

He prefers rainy days, because he enjoys the respite they give from a constantly busy city just outside the walls of your home. He’d rather have happiness than wealth; enjoys chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven for dessert (and you make a note to pick up some stuff to make them on your next planned night together); he’d never had any pets growing up, but he’d love a dog. 

And you tell him about yourself. How you love cozy socks and would prefer scrubs over real clothes; how you also never had pets growing up and would love to adopt and foster as many as possible one day; how you enjoyed fantasy over romantic movies; how you’d watched Titanic about a hundred times in your life and you still cried. 

How you wanted to watch it with him next, and he agreed, stating it would be the next thing you do when you cook together. 

Before long he’s yawning and your eyes are closing. His fingers remain around yours as you knead his muscles, prattling on about your plans for the week, school, your friends. And he talks about his own schedule, his meetings, proposes dinner for the both of you that upcoming Saturday. A cooked meal in, with a movie and some wine. Maybe you tease him a little, because he makes it easy when he blushes that pretty pink, and maybe he grins up at you fondly, eyes hooded in his sleepy daze. 

Eventually, you lay on your side and he remains in front of you on the floor. You’re hardly awake as he drapes a blanket over your form and tucks a pillow under your head, whispering to one another as the sun starts to come up over the city. 

Eventually, both of you fall silent at last, comforting sleep there to find you. 

-

“I want to make it very clear before we go in there that we are not getting a dog. We are donating all the things we bought earlier, and then we are going home and having dinner together,” Steve reiterates for the umpteenth time that day. 

“We are not getting a dog,” you repeat, mock stonily, looking your husband dead in the eyes. 

Clearly unamused, he shoves at the arm you have jokingly curled around his forearm, but there’s no malice there. Only a gentle huff of laughter as he opens his car door and rushes around the other side to help you out. You never need him to, but he insists every time. Even offers an arm for you to grab as you hop onto the sidewalk. Once back on solid land, summer dress dancing around your kneecaps, Steve walks around to the back of the car and lifts the box of pet food, blankets and toys you’d picked up while at the pet store. Today, you decided, you wanted to give back to the local shelter in your new town. 

And maybe you had an ulterior motive of trying to realize a dream of your husband’s by making him fall in love with a shelter dog in a way where his only option is to bring them home to live with you forever. But he’s been adamant all morning—so certain today’s events will not lead to four legs becoming part of your odd little family.

Inside, you’re greeted by one of the workers. A woman named Chelsea rushes around the counter to collect your donations and asks if you’d like to walk around a bit. Steve’s reluctant at your side, sunglasses peeled off and tucked into the neck of his shirt, but he comes along all the same as you grip his palm within your own and drag him along behind you. 

You pass dozens of kittens and cats. Young and old all alike as you go. Some who meow as you pass, and others who linger in dark corners of their confines. It breaks your heart seeing so many, wanting to adopt them all, knowing you’re unable to. Sensing your unease, Steve squeezes your hand tighter and listens for the both of you while Chelsea speaks and your mind wanders. 

“Down here are all our adoptable dogs.”

It’s a sight you never get used to. Dogs barking as you pass, bodies brushing against their cages, yearning for attention. You linger by Chelsea as you walk, rubbing noses and ears and backs. Tongues glide over your palm, wet noses brush your skin, dark eyes hold yours through metal bars. Somewhere in the midst of introducing yourself to all your newest furry friends, you find Steve’s hand is no longer in yours. Turning on the heel, you find him crouched low to the ground, fingers curled inside metal bars, softly speaking to the animal hidden within. 

“Oh,” Chelsea mutters, shock evident in her tone. Steve looks up to her imploringly, then glances back at the dog inside. “That’s a new arrival. A ten month old male Bernedoodle. He’s a black tricolor puppy. His previous owners got him as a gift, and turned him over when he started getting bigger. They’re a smaller breed, but have a lot of energy and unfortunately you see a lot of this happening. People buy luxury pets and drop them off when they become too much. He’s been very timid since he arrived.”

“He just lost his family,” Steve says to no one, swallowing thickly. The woman at your side doesn’t speak, only watches as your husband continues to gently coax the puppy forward. “Hey buddy. I’m Steve. Wanna come over here? No?” 

“Should we…” the woman beside you begins. 

“Yeah, let’s give them a moment,” you mutter, a little breathless as you turn around and face the other direction, quiet footsteps carrying you further away. 

But you still hear it. 

Still hear Steve’s voice in your ears. A sad, “I know what it’s like. Feeling left behind, left alone. Especially from the people you want to love you most. But you don’t need to be afraid of me. I get it.” 

There’s an echo of soft paws padding against a tiled floor. And the soft exhale from Steve. “There you go. See, I’m your friend. I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

And when you and the shelter worker turn around, you find Steve with his fingers in the puppy’s fur, that pink tongue of his brushing over the inside of your husband’s wrist. That resolve in Steve’s eyes crumbles, your heart shattering along with it as you press the heel of your palm to your sternum. 

He turns to Chelsea and asks, “Can we take him out? Just for a minute?” 

Chelsea passes you a knowing look and that minute Steve requests turns into an hour in the yard outside of the shelter. The puppy seems hesitant at first, lingering near Steve’s thighs as you stand nearby. But once Chelsea hands Steve a frisbee and ball, it’s as though the puppy is sparked to life once more. Soon enough he’s frolicking around the field, playful yips streaking the summer silence as he retrieves his toys and rushes back over to Steve, paws pouncing playfully against your husband’s designer jeans. 

But he doesn’t care. 

No—you haven’t seen him light up like this in the nearly three months you’ve been married. The joy illuminated his features. The crinkle of his eyes at the corners. The belly laughs as the puppy eventually knocks him to the ground and demands belly rubs on the grassy floor below. He falls in love before your eyes. With no warning, impossibly fast, and so suddenly it comes as no shock to either you nor Chelsea when he asks about adoption. 

As you sit in the lobby with the puppy on a leash on the floor, you turn to Steve, grinning widely. “You said we weren’t getting a dog.”

Steve pats his new fur son’s head and grins as the dog tips his head back to look longingly into his new father’s eyes. It’s sickeningly sweet, and does things to your insides that makes you feel hot all over. You chalk it up to the shoddy air conditioner system, tugging at the neckline of your dress to let the air chill your slick skin. 

“I couldn’t leave him,” he says, brushing fingers along a furry ear. 

“He picked you.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Fond. Smitten. He’s so in love it’s ridiculous, and all you feel is affection. 

Affection. 

Towards your husband. 

New. But maybe not so scary. 

You lean down to pet the puppy’s neck. He jumps up and scrambles up with his front paws against your lap, licking a broad stripe along your chin. “Steve, we have a puppy.”

Your first pet. 

His, too. 

“Yeah,” he says, but he’s only staring at you. You swallow. “I guess we do.”

A few questions and references and a small adoption fee later, and you’re both the newest proud parents of your still presently unnamed new puppy who pokes his head in the front seat as you drive to the nearest pet store in search of all the things you’ll need to make his transition as simple as possible. 

Steve, ever doting as he is, grabs the leash as soon as he helps the little guy out and greets you as usual on your side of the vehicle. You spend the better half of the afternoon purchasing things for him. A dog bed, food, toys, a new collar with his name and address engraved into it. 

Charlie Harrington, you both eventually decide, when the cashier asks how you’d like it engraved. 

Charlie Harrington, who the doormen at your apartment building immediately fall in love with as you later walk in, you holding the puppy’s leash this time, and Steve trying his hardest to carry all the things you bought. 

Charlie Harrington who bounds happily into your home and immediately starts sniffing around in his new space, excited to simply be around people who love him in such a short span of time and want to play with him like he deserves.   

“I’ll get started on dinner, if you want to show your fur child around the house,” you tease, laying out Charlie’s shiny new bowls on the floor, and the basket of toys and bones you got for him in the living room, right by his bed beside it. 

“You are a sneaky woman,” he jokes, coming up behind you in the kitchen. 

Heat blooms where he rests his hand on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek like it’s something he’s done before in the confines of your home, with no one looking. So casually, and yet stark in contrast to the riot of butterflies that stir to life in your stomach. 

“And why might that be?” 

“Played that ice breaker game with me, found out I never had a pet, and then brought me to a shelter…where I then got a pet.” 

You shrug, turning on the stovetop to let the water boil. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re welcome. Now go—play with him. I know you’re itching to. You’re like a little kid on Christmas right now. It’s kind of cute, Harrington.”

“Thank you.” 

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, his face pink from your compliment, before rushing into the living room where you hear Charlie barking as he’s once again joined by his new best friend. You reach over to tap Steve’s phone, where Spotify is already open from the car ride, and hit ‘play,’ Leon Bridges the background music to your cooking in the kitchen and Steve’s laughter as he crawls on his hands and knees to rub Charlie’s stomach on the floor. 

Perfect. 

It’s about as perfect as a day could be. 

And later, as you sit together in the dining room, with Charlie sitting patiently in the corner, and talk about the evening, you start to think maybe being married to Steve Harrington for three years will be a little more difficult than you imagined it would be. 

Because the feelings stirring in your chest are beyond that of friendship. 

No—there’s a suddenness to the clarity of your realization that you like your husband. And the sinking reality that this is merely transactional. 

In three years you’ll go your separate ways. Just as you both intended months ago at that coffee shop table. 

“You’re overthinking again,” Steve points out, reaching over to center your engagement ring on your left hand. His thumb lingers over the diamonds. “I was telling you about the benefit gala in a few weeks.”

“Oh,” you mutter tiredly. “Sorry. Yeah, uhm, I’ll go. Obviously. It’s part of our arrangement.” 

“If you don’t want to go with me…”

“No, I’ll go,” you say, taking a sip of your wine glass. “Black tie dinner event, I’m assuming?”

“Buy yourself a new dress kind of event, yeah.”

“Okay, yeah.” 

You nod. 

It’ll be October. 

Approaching four months into your agreement. Time is already flying. 

“Our first big event as a couple outside of our wedding,” you state plainly, gathering your things and Steve’s as you rise to your feet. He grabs the wine glasses and follows you down the hall to your kitchen, dumping all your dirty pasta plates inside. “Anyone I should know or be aware of when we’re there?”

“It’s a lot of partners in the company. Some celebrities, actors, musicians, models. Eddie will be there—he’s been invited. It’s a little bit of everyone. This time they’ve organized donations for a shelter for homeless youth in the city.” He hands you your wine glass, peering into your eyes. Noting your lingering hesitance from your overthinking once more, he continues, “I can cancel you as my plus one. Say you’re not feeling well—”

“No,” you place a hand on his sternum. Pause when you realize what you’ve done. He trails his eyes south where you touch. You don’t move away. “I love the purpose of the benefit. I want to be there. I-I want to go with you.” 

“Good,” he says, stepping closer. You could reach out and touch the outline of his jaw like this. The lines of his perfect nose. “Because I want you there with me.”

You don’t miss the way his stare lingers on your face, or the timber of his voice. The darkness in the depths of his eyes. How the weight of his chest against your palm as he pushes forward has it stuck as a barrier between the two of you. Mere inches of separation. 

It’s confusing, maddening, and terrifying all the same. 

Two years and nine months. 

You’ve got this. 

-

-

[vrisrezis]

Guys this is au where suguru isn’t insane cuz in my mind he deserves eternal happiness and to be surrounded by people that love him and to live a long life and- yea anyways basically au where that didn’t happen and kuroi and Riko r actually fine

Also reader is considered to be on equal footing with geto and gojo, fellow “strongest” if you will :p

Also this was originally short hcs on how geto woos his stoic crush but I got carried away

Not proof read made this at like 3 am alr I’m so tired and sick and insane and this is probably terrible

I am under the believe suguru doesn’t even have to try to woo you, no matter how cold blooded and closed off you can be. Suguru is such a sweet man that it’s hard not to fall in love. No matter how much you try to reject it, it will happen one way or another. That doesn’t mean he knows it, but he will still have that power over you regardless. He has such a sickly sweet laugh, it’s impossible to not stare and admire. It’s impossible to not make your heart race, to not feel that sudden heat on your cheeks that thankfully isn’t noticeable. His genuine smile has you on cloud nine, but your favorite is when he shyly looks away from your hard gaze that never softens, despite how the male makes you feel deep within your very soul. The world will never know how bad you have it for him. Suguru is rather closed off about his affections towards you himself, though not nearly as much. Besides he makes it pretty obvious to you anyway, as you are somebody who has mastered the art of hiding how you truly feel. It’s in your blood to read through any facade, especially somebody you pay such close attention to.

Suguru, at first, is overly polite with a shy smile. The attempts in becoming a friend are certainly there, but he’s not as bold as his best friend is, so it’s a rather slow progression. And honestly, without gojos help, he wouldn’t have been able to form such a close bond with you over time thanks to how extroverted the white haired male can be. Regardless, over time as he grows more comfortable with being your friend, he teases you, he even shows subtle ways of being affectionate, typically through casual, physical touch. A hand or elbow on your shoulder, fixing your hair, etc. though he could be bolder, your general personality drives him away from closer and more intimate touches. He still gets rather shy around you, and when you grow comfortable enough to be in close proximity of him, his cheeks get all red. Which you secretly think is adorable. His general shyness around you indicates his affections towards you as well, he’s constantly left wondering if you can just feel how much his heart constantly pounds around you. Or if you feel his gaze on you during class. He wonders if you appreciate his kind gestures, constantly trying to take you out and buy you food or simply buying you things you’ve learnt to open up to him about enjoying. He wonders if you know how grateful he is and how special he feels, knowing you of all people trust him with things you wouldn’t trust just anybody with, even if it’s something as small as admitting to the games you like playing.

You’re both smitten for eachother, one way or the other. You’re not completely clueless to it like he is, but you’re scared. You’re scared of vulnerability, you’re scared to love another human being. Because that means admitting to weakness. It means admitting that you’ve let another person get the best of you, when you’ve worked you’re entire life trying to be as strong as you possibly could be, to not let a single person in, to only be able to rely on yourself, because you’re the only one that’s trustworthy, letting people in gets you hurt, leaves you broken. All that time, building up those walls, all the pain and abuse and torture you went through, was all broken by some pretty boy in the matter of seconds. And for some god damn reason you welcomed it with open arms. And for some god damn reason, you don’t regret it. You feel the happiest you ever felt. It’s strange, cause before him you think you didn’t even know what happiness really felt like. All you knew was pain, all you knew was people would hurt you if you got too close. A part of you thinks, you were happy because you finally learnt how to love another, and you finally learnt what it felt like to have another love you. You know he loves you for you, not in spite of you. But a part of you, just can’t believe it was so easy, so effortless. Not only to love him, but to be loved. You chased endlessly after your family, to pay attention and to give a damn and for them to show some sign they cared. The day never came. But now you know, that love isn’t something you should bend yourself over backwards for. Love isn’t forced, it is natural. And yet, you felt yourself trying to go back to your old ways, in fear of history repeating itself.

You tried pushing him away, again. After everything that happened with toji, you realized you could lose geto in an entirely new way and you were not willing to go through that again. You needed him away from you, out of your life. You needed to focus on being a jujutsu sorcerer, that was what was most important.

You were exhausted. And it’s no question why.

Once again you are training at a rather late hour, something you seem to have been doing nonstop since you “failed” to deal with toji in time before your two boys nearly died in the process. You were always very hard on yourself for things like these, one of the few things you were pretty open about was your personal failures. Doesn’t matter to you that you were stabbed in the stomach, that you shouldn’t be training, you didn’t care. Things like this never stopped you, why should it now? Besides, you’ve been through worse.

Suguru had tried countless times to get you to stop, this included gojo and even shoko, too. But you didn’t listen. You never listened to them anyway.

But the moment he sees this going on for officially five days straight, he’s had enough.

“Still at it, huh?” he says, but you don’t even bother to stop and look at him. It’s become routine at this point for him to come and try to get you out of this motion you’ve been stuck in. Besides that, you’ve been trying to keep him at arms length. You don’t bother saying anything, putting both your fists out to have your hands let out a particularly smaller fire than what you normally would’ve made. You stop for a brief moment, huffing at the lack of results.

“Maybe some sleep will do you good?” he suggests, but you don’t bother to look at him as you continue your training, seemingly ignoring him. He lets out a sigh, suguru is not one to be stern with you. Out of the two of you, you’re the one that does the scolding, though it’s typically towards gojo, it’s been towards the raven haired male on several occasions, due to his overconfidence in a lot of the situations he’s constantly being put in.

“Don’t push everyone away, y/n.” he says, his voice being the most stable you’ve ever heard it. His voice is firm, rigid, even. “Don’t push me away.”

There’s a moment where you stop, a brief moment, but it’s enough for him to quickly put a hand on your shoulder. You look down, your back facing him. Your hands are clenched in fists in a feeble attempt to make yourself seem strong, to make yourself seem unfazed, unavailable. You don’t need anyone. You don’t need him, either. Why have you suddenly convinced yourself you do? You’ve lived your entire life without him. Why does it suddenly feel like you need him? It’s not fair.

You grit your teeth, but you finally allow him to turn you around.

He finally gets a real good look at you, for the first time in a couple days. He noticed you were losing weight, sleep too, but he didn’t think it got this bad. He lets out a guilty sigh at the pure sight of you, and you hate how it sounds. Like he’s pitying you. But honestly, how can you blame him? You are a pitiful sight. It’s a disgrace to consider yourself one of the strongest.

“Whens the last time you ate?” he finally manages to ask you, “slept?” his voice is laced with concern, but you don’t meet his worried gaze. “Who knows..” you shrug, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Are you done worrying about me, cuz I have shit to do.” you say, in your usual nonchalant manner. Trying to pull off this facade this late has you exhausted.

You two haven’t been very intimate with one another, but suguru finds his soft hand on your cheek anyway, causing you to look up at the male in front of you. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, “don’t hide from me, please?” he says, “this has been hard for me and satoru too but… even we are learning that we’re okay, what’s got you so messed up over this?”

You look up at him, you don’t push himself way anymore. You accept him with open arms.

“I feel like I failed you all.” you admit. “I feel as though there’s something I could’ve done. The mistakes I made on that mission nearly cost kuroi and rikos lives, I wasn’t good enough. I cannot forgive myself for that.”

He pulls his hand away from your face, you almost want to glare at him for the lack of touch, but he grabs your hands instead. “Jeez..” he says, sounding pretty tired himself. “You’re always too hard on yourself y/n. It was me that practically failed to protect them, you’re the one that saved them, you know. And, if it weren’t for you, that fushiguro wouldn’t even be dead right now. If you’re really beating yourself up over that, please don’t.”

You sigh, looks away from him, “I just don’t … want to fail again. More than anything I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Suguru seems to take in your words, as if something was finally clicking with him.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks, and you almost want to cringe at his words. You quietly nod.

“Y/n, Cmon. You could never lose me. One of the strongest, remember?” he says, a soft smile peaking through, but you shake your head, taking your arms away from his. He frowns, seeing you retract again. “Yeah well, I almost did. I almost wasn’t enough to stop you from dying. I was almost the reason you died.” you say, and honestly it’s the first time since you were a young child you let anger drip from your voice. He almost hates it’s directed towards him. But a part of him knows he need to let it out somehow, someway, after everything you seem to constantly bottle up.

“There was a time in my life I had nothing, suguru. And now I have everything. I have you. I am not willing to lose that. Anytime I form a connection with anyone, I lose them. That cannot happen to me again.”

You feel arms wrap around you. It’s sudden, “tch- do you not listen to me when I talk? Yknow, I should really kill you.” you threaten, but as his hand comes in contact with the back of your head to stroke your hair, you fall silent. “I love you.” he admits, quietly.

“I don’t care how you feel about me,” he continued, “but no matter what, I want to be there for you. You won’t lose me, you know? I’ll always come back to you. Cause my love for you is so strong, it’s enough for me to change fate itself, to escape even the clutches of death. I love you so much, I would do absolutely anything to make sure you wouldn’t lose me. It’s okay to let me in, fully and unapologetically.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t regret opening up to me.”

It takes you a minute, but you finally allow him in. You wrap your arms around him, you let yourself cry for the first time since you were a child, for the first time in front of anyone since you were an infant, you allow yourself to finally grieve, to cry, to feel.

And you welcome it, with open arms.

[bonesandthebees]

I did in fact get some writing done. I’ve set myself a short story challenge where I have to write a certain event happening from multiple pov’s without ever reusing one. Right now I’m trying to do it in like 200-250 words per character and it’s been great fun. It’s a good exercise I’m getting down to the essentials and learning implications. It’s basically writing one character a day and it’s been really refreshing to just make up a character and situation I need to further the story and write it out. No edits yet. Just getting in the mood of writing more again and unclogging my writer’s block because I kept getting stuck on my proper original story (I swear that will take me 10 years to write with how slow progress has been).

Anyway, I’m rambling. Tell me about your day! How have you been? I hope you have fun in Greece! It’s a really pretty country and I think it’s still early enough to not be hit with heatwaves (though we usually get a June heatwave, rain al throughout Juli and then heatwave again in May, but Greece is so far away I hope you’ll be fine.)

-🌲

oh that's such a smart idea for a writing exercise. I should try that sometime. it seems like it would really help out with characterization and also figuring out how to keep scenes succinct yknow? hoping it works to break through your writers block!!

I wish I had some fun updates for you all about what I've been up to but honestly this past month has been kind of tumultuous for me. I've had serious family stuff come up, I've been sick, etc. but I think things have quieted down now (knock on wood). however I DID go to a ren faire for the first time which was incredibly fun so that was a great thing. I had to bullshit my outfit in 2 days with what I already had in my closet but I think I did a pretty good job :) my outfit was like vague medieval princess/noble lady kind of vibes (I was also compared to arwen from lotr)

thank youuu I'm so excited for my trip. I've been to italy once before (only rome though so I'm excited to see more cities) but I've never been to greece and I've always wanted to go. hopefully we don't get hit with terrible heat waves but my wardrobe is going to be like entirely sundresses and skirts and shorts so even if it does I hopefully should be prepared

[werevampiwolf]

This.

I've been working at a theater since 2015, when most people leave after a few months. In the time I've been here, the workload has tripled because corporate strictly limits the number of hours the managers are allowed to staff. I mostly work at the door these days, but the managers are constantly on my ass to be in multiple places at once. Like literally. I have to be at the door to help customers when they come in, but I'm also supposed to be constantly cleaning all over the huge lobby. And I'm someone who can barely walk, they just can't fire me for it because I've been here since before my walking got this bad, and because I've become one of the best doormen in the company. Which basically means dealing with every single person who comes in, including the assholes, constantly getting shouted at because my job is to tell people no. I have to turn away people with weapons multiple times a shift (many of whom get angry about it), I've been threatened, I've had people take swings at me, and I've even been hit. In fact, getting hit is such a common occurrence that I was talking to my coworker about it, and we weren't even sure if we were talking about the same incident of an employee being hit by a customer. And it's not like we can really even unionize because the turnover is so high.

But when I was an usher back in the day, there used to be at least 3 of us on slow days, and sometimes 10 or more on busy days. Now we have one on slow days and 2 on busy days. Our biggest auditoriums hold 250 people, and the cleaning crew gets like 10 minutes or less to clean. On busy opening weekends, like when Deadpool and Wolverine just came out, we can get more than 10,000 customers a day at our location.

We've reached the critical point where we can no longer keep up, and everything is slowing down. Customers constantly bitch at us about the lines being too long because there's not enough registers open, despite the fact that there's just not enough employees working to do so. I work in a building that's over 80,000 square feet, or about 7,500 square meters, and it's not unusual to only have like 3 or 4 employees in the building when we open, and maybe 8 during busy hours. There's literally two or more times as many auditoriums as employees.

Plus things have been going without maintenance or repair for years and have reached the point of being unfixible, but corporate won't give us money to replace things since they didn't give us money to fix things in the first place. Our front door has been chained up overnight with a fucking bike lock for months because the door had been continued to be used despite being broken for nearly a decade, so when they finally got someone to fix it, it turns out that the entire fucking door has to be replaced, which isn't going to happen any time soon. They take the bike lock off during the day because it looks bad, and it doesn't matter if the door doesn't close and is barely attached, since it still opens. It doesn't matter if someone might get hurt if it falls on them, because it hasn't happened yet, so it's fine. They can just make their doorman (me) walk over and close the door every fucking time someone uses it, which is still hundreds of times a day on a slow day.

Our lobby air conditioner (again) was broken in the lobby for a few weeks in June/July when it was up to 117° outside and the employees were all getting heat sickness. I got heat exhaustion, to the point where a customer who's a nurse looked at me and told me (umprompted) that I clearly was unwell and needed to go to the hospital before it progressed to heatstroke. I told my manager, and they said they'd see what they could do and then left me alone for two hours without even a response. Not even a "sorry, you have to stay because we don't have anyone to cover you." And the only reason it was "only" two hours is because that's how long was left in my shift. If I had had 6 hours left, then I would have gone 6 hours without an answer or being checked on. And when I called the managers out on it the next day, I was basically told "you have to understand, we're very busy," as if that should make me feel better that I very well could have died without any of them noticing. I'd be equally pissed if they did that to one of my coworkers. And the managers can't even be assed to reply to me most of the time, or acknowledge that they've heard me. Part of my job is calling for a manager if a customer comes in and needs help with something, and they can't even give me an "okay" so I know they heard me. It even happens to my face. I've told managers more than once that "hey, I'm off in 45 minutes and still haven't had my legally-mandated 10 minute break" to their face and they just turned around and walked away without giving any indication that they heard me, despite the fact that I know they did. And breaks are a whole other issue. According to California law, we get one 30-minute lunch break within the first 5 hours of our shift, and a 10-minute break per 4-hour block, "as close to the middle of the 4-hour period as practical" (so, hour 2 and hour 6 if it's an 8-hour shift). I'm lucky to even get my first 10 by hour 6 of my shift. They have to give us our lunch break by the end of hour 5 because it requires clocking out, so the government could easily check that the law is being followed, but 10s aren't logged. Hell, the only reason I even get my 10s every shift, even if it's in the last hour or less, is because I've been there so long that I no longer give a shit. They know I will just refuse to clock out until I've gotten my breaks, and I will annoy the crap out of them on the radio until they give me them (and having an employee consistently clocking out exactly 10 minutes late would look suspicious, especially since they know I absolutely would not lie to cover their asses if an inspector or auditor asks me about it.

Also I still make minimum wage after 9 years. They used to actually give a raise for every year you worked there, but they stopped doing that not long before I was hired. Also, since we're considered to be in the entertainment industry, there are different labor laws, including that we don't have to even be given 8 hours between the end of one shift and the start of another. Which is meant for things like people working on film crews, where you might need to film at a certain time of day, like dawn, for a limited period of time, and not for what is basically retail work, but here we are.

[kiame-sama]

28 Years - Yandere!Silva x Reader (2nd Pregnancy)

Many have asked and now, here it is!!

Warnings; Dub-con, pregnancy, yandere relationship, manipulation, mention of past abuse, yandere, yandere behavior, yandere tendencies, nsfw, Silva extreme views, family bonding,

It had been a few years- close to six- but the scars of your emotional turmoil were still present in your behavior and actions. You would become distressed whenever Silva attempted to be intimate with you, only calming down when he would back off, giving you the space you needed. Sometimes he would and sometimes he wouldn't, but he generally had not lain a single hand on you with any intent to hurt or force you to do anything.

It seemed he might have learned from his egregious error of taking Illumi away from you and punishing you for running away from him. Now he was cautious and treated you like glass in his grip, still keeping you close as often as possible and readjusting you to his touch. Some progress has been made- you no longer flinched from his touch or sobbed when he held you- but you still reacted like you were being burned or tortured with any kind of intimacy.

Though he wouldn't admit it, Silva hated seeing your pained expression, listening to your frightened whimpers and cries, seeing your panic whenever he tried to pin you under him, and most of all he hated how you never seemed to enjoy intimacy with him anymore. Even when he had first kidnapped you, you would make such loud noises and moans of pleasure any time he touched you and now you just panicked and cried. He didn't think your rejection of his affection would impact him so deeply, but he honestly couldn't remain hard or cum when you cried in such a way whenever he took you.

He was unable to enjoy it if you didn't enjoy it.

He could be a patient man, but he also had burning needs that drew him into near feral insanity if he refused to indulge in them. Silva NEEDED you. He needed your touch, your affection, your intimacy, all of it. He had tried to ignore his needs more than once before and almost every time he was unable to last very long, aching with desire just to feel your touch against his skin.

Even if it meant you were striking him or cursing at him, he would feverishly accept your touch with absolute glee. He was so sick with how desperately he needed you. His only 'cure' to this aching need was indulgence in his addiction to you. He was addicted to everything you had to offer and to everything you did. Nothing other than you mattered to him because you were his world. You were his love, his light, his everything.

True to his assassin nature, he quietly entered the room, frowning upon seeing you curled up in your shared bed and slightly shivering from the cold his absence seemed to cause. He chose to wake you gently, massaging your shoulders and murmuring softly to you in a husky hum.

"(Y/n), wake up..."

"Ngh... Hm? Silva? What is it?"

"I want to try something with you."

He felt your body stiffen as you fully awoke due to his words, fear and anxiety shooting through you almost violently at the implications his words had. You could only muster a whimper and start shaking your head back and forth, not trusting your words to be enough to deny his advances. Still he persisted, arms snaking around your midsection and pulling your back up against a warm chest.

"Shh... Trust me."

"No... No. No! No no no no no no no no!"

You were thrashing like a wild animal at this point, clawing for freedom and screaming out as if in pain, biting him when you could as you tried to wrench yourself from his grasp. He continued to simply hold you close as you thrashed, wailing and fighting his grip with all you had. But even your energy had to die down at some point, panting and whining pathetically as you lay exhausted in his arms.

"It's alright. It's okay... See? You're okay."

"No..."

"Yes. Have I hurt you during all of this?"

"... No..."

"See? I just need you to trust me. It won't hurt and we can take this as slowly as you want."

"I don't want it..."

"You do. You just think you don't because you're scared. I hurt you. I have done you wrong and unknowingly enforced the idea of intimacy being a punishment. I should have shown restraint and should have never done what I did to make you run in the first place. Let me show you this is different. Let me show you it's okay."

"..."

Your whimpers quieted as you lay hyper aware of any movement Silva made, feeling one arm drag down your side and his hand come to a rest on your lower stomach. When you didn't immediately try to push him away, he continued to follow the soft curve of your body until his large hand was parting your thighs. He slid his hand into your sleep pants where he cupped your heat and gently kissed your shoulder, slowly beginning to rub light pressure over your sensitive body.

The softest of noises left you, some kind of mix between a whimper and a moan, uncertain if you were whining from fear or due to the gentle movements of your husband. When Silva added a bit more pressure to your warm heat, you expected a flash of pain to stab through you, instead a soothing sensation ran through your mind and compelled you to calm just a bit more. Your light moans seemed to be the only confirmation Silva needed to keep going, sliding his hand gently between your soft folds, fingers prodding at your wet entrance.

Your mewling moans turned into gasps of pleasure as you gripped his thick arm, pressing back against his warm chest and whining in bliss. The light feeling of his lips trailing over your neck made you whine and shiver, hips beginning to slowly move with his relaxed strokes. You could feel how much your responses were affecting him given the rock-hard length that pressed stiffly against your back, pulsing in desire and need.

He tugged at your loose sleep clothes, easily sliding them off of your body, leaving you bare against his broad chest. His hands were warm as they slid over your chilled flesh, letting the heat sink into your body and warm you to the core. It was clear he was taking great care to not cause you any level of pain, given his relaxed touch and gentle behavior.

You whimpered when he moved so you were laying face-down on the bed, your hips raised up and his muscled body over your own. The firmness that pressed against you made you mewl and turn your head to look at him in vague fear despite the slick that coated your thighs. It was clear you were still frightened and hesitant to the idea of intimacy with Silva after what he had done to you, but the large hands on your hips gave you little room to voice that fear.

"Shh... It's alright..."

He shifted above you and you were about to question what it was he was doing when an intense warmth met your pulsing pussy, gasping and gripping at the blankets as an obscene slurping sound met your ears. Silva lapped his tongue at your soaked heat, making you mewl and cry out against the blankets beneath you, arching your back as pleasure hummed through your entire body. You couldn't stop the moans that tumbled from your lips due to the mind-numbing bliss that sparked through your brain, balling up your fists as you tried to hold back the sounds.

"Fuck..! Fuck, it- it's so good..!"

You were practically drooling at that point from the pleasure that coiled itself tightly in your abdomen, your eyes clenching shut as you continued to whine loudly. Silva seemed to only be spurred on from your pleasured noises, sinking his tongue as deeply into you as he could, gripping your hips and moving you in time with his desperate licking. When you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, you let out a loud screech of bliss as that coil snapped and flooded your body with euphoria, shaking from the sheer force of the pleasure.

"There we go... Fuck, you look so good squirting for me like this."

A whine left your exhausted form as he slid two fingers into you, moving and scissoring them slowly to get your warm walls to loosen for him. You were able to just lean into your pillows, feeling the echos of pleasure building up inside of you once more as Silva slowly but surely worked you over. He continued with his slow movements, letting you move your hips back against his fingers and fucking yourself on them at the pace you wanted all while admiring the wonderful view he had of your blissed out expression.

When your hips began to slightly stutter and jerk at a faster pace, he pulled away from you, relishing the sound of your needy whine of disapproval. He didn't hesitate to lick his fingers clean of your slick, getting a few more slow strokes of his tongue on your soaked pussy before getting to the matter at hand. He lined himself up, only allowing the tip of his large cock to rub against your tight hole as he gently massaged your hips.

"Would you like more?"

"Ple-please! Yes- yes, please, Silva! I need- ngh- I need more!"

"Then go ahead and take more. Go as fast or as slowly as you wish. Take my cock into you."

Silva was actually slightly surprised at how you reacted to his words, almost trying to take him in too quickly as you pushed your hips back, letting him sink deeper into you. The sheer stretch of taking his entire length was enough to make your toes curl in pleasure, needing to pause for a moment just to try and adjust to the full feeling. Some part of him wondered if you were even fully aware of the grasp you had on his heart, the sole being that held all of his affections and attention.

"Silva..! Please..! I need you to move..!"

You were mewling under him, gripping the sheets tightly as you whimpered and tightly closed your eyes. It was clear that you were in need of some kind of release and he was the only one who could provide it for you.

He wouldn't deny your breathy pleas, at least.

Starting with a slow tempo that built up to a near impossible speed, the bed creaked and complained loudly beneath you due to his unrelenting thrusts. You were in mind-numbing bliss and truly didn't care about the absolute racket you were making as you practically screamed out your moans, letting the sculpted man move your body as he pleased. Silva was in a similar state, lost to the pleasure of hearing your sweet moans as he buried himself inside of you.

He had yearned for such a sound for quite a bit now and your rejection of his affection over the past few years had left him nearly starved for you. Truly, there was only so much he was able to take when it came to resisting his physical need for your touch, wanting desperately to just hold you and have you cry out for him. He was finally able to feel your tight walls milk his hot cock and listen to your breathy moans, seeing you writhe in pleasure from the large cock buried inside of you.

"Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love me. Scream it for me."

"Ngh-! Silva! I- fuck- I love it..! So big..! So damn good! Please! Please I need more!"

Despite the fact you did not say everything he wanted to hear, Silva continue to rut into you with fast angled thrusts that made you practically see stars. His grip on your hips was tight, but you didn't register anything other than that thick length moving inside of you wildly. Even as your eyes rolled back, you couldn't help the whining moans that wrenched from your throat fiercely.

The moment that pressure growing within you broke, you wailed out in a near tortured moan while pleasure washed over you for what felt like ages. The hot ropes of cum filling up your soft stomach only seemed to prolong the pleasure that ran through your veins, as if time itself stood still around you. When Silva finally pulled out of you, you collapsed on the bed and panted heavily, feeling almost too full as you moved to a much more comfortable position.

Silva's large arms wrapped around you and pulled you close, letting you sink into the warm heat that radiated from his sculpted figure. It was truly as if the two of you were just basking in the presence of one another all while you slipped back off into sleep, content with the warm figure that held you so close. Silva took longer to just enjoy the moment after finally getting to embrace you once more without any fear getting in the way.

For now, it seems he had managed to mend the scars of his egregious error and had you content to be with him once more.

~~~~~~~~

You lay on your side, curled up on the tile floor of your shared bathroom, trying to get the queasy feeling to subside enough to move. You honestly couldn't remember a time where you felt half as unwell as you did at that moment, feeling tears sting your eyes as your throat burned with exhaustion. At that point, all you really wanted was to sleep, but with the current exhausted state your body was in, you had no way of reaching the comfort of your bed or the warm embrace of your blankets.

The quiet sound of your door opening drew what little you had left of your attention span, hardly able to lift your head all that far from the tile as you attempted to rouse your body into an upright position. Despite your efforts, it was clear there was no way you were going to be able to sit up and so you simply remained on the cold tile as you awaited whomever had entered the room. To your vague surprise it was not Silva who came through the door, it was Zeno and he honestly seemed as if he hadn't expected to find you in the state you were currently in.

With a surprising gentleness, the elder came to your side and rest the back of his hand on your forehead. He seemed to have some level of honest concern as he gazed down at your exhausted form splayed out on the tile.

"Shall I go retrieve that useless doctor of yours?"

"... Please..."

It took more effort than you had expected to huff out that one word, feeling oddly cared for and respected simply for the fact he asked what you wanted instead of acting of his own accord. Silva would have never done that. He would have taken one look at your unwell state and practically ran to retrieve your kind doctor to have you checked for any cause that may explain your current position.

It didn't take long for him to send out word to have your doctor come to your room before he was back by your side. Truly, if there ever were a time you felt honest appreciation for your father in law, it would be at that exact moment. He could have easily left you to suffer alone on the tile and instead not only sent for help, but returned to your side to wait with you.

"Is there anything you need at this moment?"

"..."

You tried to form some kind of sentence to respond to him, but you felt as if the energy had just been ripped out of you as your eyes began to slowly close. A sharp snapping sound brought your attention back to the man before you who now seemed to almost be more than just concerned.

"No sleeping. Not yet. Do your best to remain awake, Brat."

The faintest of smiles pulled at your lips when you heard that name that he only used for those he felt responsible for as well as those he cared for. Zeno was an assassin through and through and was a proud man at that, but he did have some kind of emotions that were reserved for family and close friends of the family. He was cold and to the point with almost everyone, but he was far more gruff and pushy with those he actually cared about given the way he has had to live on where his wife had died delivering Silva.

It was the only way he knew how to show affection.

"Where..?"

"Silva? Just left on a job this morning. A long job. It should take him at the least a month, if not longer. Of course you would choose now of all days to fall ill, Brat."

"Not.. dead yet..."

A low huff of amusement came from the older man as he sighed and sat next to you on the floor, keeping you constant company despite having no obligation to do so.

"I'm not telling Silva about this until he gets back. You know as well as I do that he would leave the job the moment he heard you were unwell. That fool loves you more than even he realizes."

His words, though harsh, made complete sense to you. Often you had thought that Silva was far more obsessed with you than anyone else realized, given how you were one of the very few who ever saw his true nature without the trained restraint and cold tone he almost always had. He was mentally unwell due to his upbringing and obsessed with you beyond reason, and he believed his actions were justified due to his familial heritage when it came to what they considered to be love.

Maha lived through it. Zeno's father died from it. Zeno lived through it. Silva will die from it.

An insane love that compelled them to do all they could to obtain and keep the object of their affections, even going as far as kidnapping and imprisonment. Silva's sickness is worse than theirs had been, and he is the only one that managed to keep his darling- you- alive. They understood and accepted the obsession he had with you and were content to keep you in Silva's arms as long as possible.

The door to your room opened with a loud creak before Kikyo made her way into the bathroom where you lay. It was clear she moved in a much more rushed pace when she saw you laying on the tile shivering, not even needing to be told to start checking you. She was being much more gentle and seemed to be far more expressive than usual as she examined you with great care.

"It seems to me you may be pregnant again."

You felt surprise run through your veins, but that surprise dulled down for a moment as you recounted what it was like when you were pregnant with Illumi. It certainly made sense, especially given all that happened up to that point.

"If she is pregnant again, I need to have a chat with Silva about keeping his damn hands off her child this time."

"Yes, sir. Shall I contact-"

"Tell him and I'll make you wish you never even considered it to begin with."

~~~~Three Months~~~~

You sat next to Zeno as you remained curled up nice and cozy in your heated blanket, sharing it with the elder who kept you company thus far in your pregnancy. Silva was expected to return any day now and you both knew the absolute fit he would throw the moment he learned what his father had been keeping from him. At least you had some peace and quiet without Silva around for a good bit, though part of you figured he would never accept another long job seeing as something important had been kept from him because of it.

Regardless, you were comfortable and starting to doze off when an unexpected question snapped you awake.

"That doctor of yours, she's the one who set you free after Silva took Illumi from you, isn't she?"

Your surprise must have been clear on your face as Zeno simply nodded, not taking his eyes away from the large television screen you two had been watching. He didn't seem particularly surprised at the answer to his question, nor did he seem all that angry either. It was almost like he knew the whole time but still wanted you to confirm it before he accepted it as truth.

"Please don't-"

"I won't tell Silva. I figured that was the case when you had somehow managed to get out. There would have been no way for you to do it on your own and the only person who had access to you outside of the family was her. To tell you the truth, part of me had actually hoped that you would manage to get away. To escape this place."

"... Why?"

"Because in many ways you remind me of my own wife. Often I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't caught her after she escaped. If I hadn't hurt her as Silva did to you... Perhaps she would still be here today."

You were surprised to hear all of this, having been too worried of upsetting Zeno to ask about the fate of his wife. It seemed she had been in the same boat you were currently in, but it had killed her where you had managed to survive. Before you could ask any more questions about the mysterious woman Zeno spoke so rarely of, the door swung open with a familiar level of force that made you jump slightly in response.

Silva was home.

There wasn't even enough time for you to welcome him back before you were being pulled up into his large arms, feeling his forehead against your shoulder as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. His large hands easily cradled your body close to his own all while his lips roamed your soft skin feverishly. You were about to try and call out for him to stop for a moment before an old voice beat you to it.

"You can't fuck her, Silva."

"I can do what I wish with my wife, when I wish."

"Not while she's pregnant you can't."

All movement halted the moment Silva registered his father's words, tensing his entire body as he slowly came to terms with what he had been told. Silva moved rather slowly as he positioned you to be cradled in one of his large arms, his hand coming up to rest against your stomach which had already begun to swell up. He almost seemed to be in a trance while he stayed statue-still, sorting out both his thoughts and emotions on the realization.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Silva's voice was a deep and angered growl in his chest, sending shivers down your spine due to your proximity to the very man who could quite easily snap at any moment. Zeno seemed mostly unfazed by the aggressive growl and instead took to observing his sharp nails as if he were bored with the situation he found himself in. You really had to admire the old man's lack of fear while facing off with Silva, who you feared more than you cared to admit.

"Because you would have abandoned your job and that would be a terrible reflection on the Zoldyck family."

"She's been pregnant this whole time and you didn't damn well tell me?"

"Watch your tone, Brat. She's alive, isn't she?"

"How long have you known?"

"Since the very day you left. That morning was when she first began showing signs."

You felt the tension in Silva's body rise to near extreme levels, letting out a sharp cry as his grasp around your soft body tightened past the point of comfort. Your cry made Silva calm immediately and loosen his grasp so he no longer held you quite as tight. That cry seemed to have caused a temporary lapse in Silva's anger as he treated you with extreme care and gently set you back on the couch, giving you a quick once-over to check for any injuries he may have caused.

"Never again."

You looked up in confusion at Silva's lowly growled words, wondering just what he was talking about.

"I'll never leave you for that long again, I swear it."

~~~Six Months~~~

You lay in complete relaxation under your warm blanket, spooning a wonderfully soft pillow all while you dozed lightly on the couch. If anything, this pregnancy was far more... Relaxed... Than your first one had been. Silva seemed to be taking extra care to show nothing but the utmost affection towards you and your child during this whole ordeal and honestly it was doing wonders for you.

You still had that internal need to shield your stomach and your baby from the man who had caused all of this in the first place. This meant his caution around you and extra positive attention towards your unborn infant was all your brain needed to feel more secure in your fragile state even though such a dangerous man lurked nearby at all times. Silva got you anything you could possibly want the moment you brought it up regardless of what time it was or what he happened to be doing at the time you mentioned it.

Whatever food you wanted was immediately made and sent straight to you. If you wanted more blankets you need only shiver before countless blankets were being piled on top of you. Any vague sign of discomfort and Silva was immediately doing everything in his power to ease your troubles in whatever way he could.

You even got to see your first-born Illumi more than a few times as the young boy's presence soothed you immensely as did his sweet curiosity. Illumi may show little to no emotion, but what little he did show he only did so while near you. You could only smile at the memory of Illumi's large and curious eyes staring up at you questioningly while he rest his cheek against your swollen stomach.

"But how did it get in there?"

"Eh... I'll tell you when you're older, okay?"

"Okay. Hey, Mama?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"I promise to take care of any little siblings I get to have."

"That's very sweet of you, Illumi, thank you, my darling."

"Anything for you, Mama."

Despite the odd behavior and almost frightening temper of your first-born, you felt more at ease than you had given the fact that you knew your son would always be on your side regardless of what may happen. Even with his cold demeanor, Illumi showed true affection for you and seemed rather insistent that you have nothing to worry about when it came to the future of your unborn child. At least you felt as if Silva learned his lesson to not take your children away from you too early as well as learning just what a positive impact your son has on you.

You were taking a rather wonderful and deep nap after getting to spend some time with Illumi and had recently awoken, content to just lay still and let yourself slowly wake up. The slow and gentle sound of footsteps drew your attention from hazy thoughts into sharp clarity, listening for whomever they belonged to. A large hand against your stomach almost made you tense up in fear, but the gentle way it lay against your skin kept you relaxed and calm.

"If you kill her, I will come for you next."

Cold jolted down your spine as you heard the low growled words against your stomach. Silva didn't often talk to your stomach or the life within unless it was to appease some request you made or to simply cheer you up. You were well aware that Silva would not handle your untimely demise in the slightest given just how distraught he would be at any idea of you being taken away from him.

You needed to keep your baby safe. But you felt like it was a near impossible task due to Silva hovering around you almost constantly. He certainly didn't take your condition lightly and considering how he received the news months after you did, you knew he refused to spend even an hour away from your side.

To some degree you appreciated the knowledge that nothing from outside of the estate could hurt you, but you also feared the fact that your husband took his 'protector' role rather seriously and could easily cause harm to you. He always said he wouldn't and yet you felt like you knew better, especially after your first several years with him. His lowly growled out words chilled you to your core and you only hoped that he would be in a much better mood once the child was safely out of you.

~~~~ 9 1/2 Months ~~~~

When the hell was it going to end!? You head read of some pregnancies lasting up to as long as a year, but you were getting more than a little tired and Silva's patience was near nonexistent.

"That rat is NOT allowed to keep you for so long. It's coming out today."

"Silva, for once would you just let me do things my way and decide what to do?"

"I am done waiting for it to come out on its own."

"What exactly do you plan to do?"

"Get the doctors to induce labor or just cut it out of you already."

"Would you just-"

You went cold and silent as a familiar feeling washed over you, feeling a slowly growing and rolling contraction beginning to tug at your insides. The panic in your expression seemed to tell him that something had happened and he immediately dropped the subject in favor of tending to you. You were barely aware of what seemed to be going on around you as another wave of dizziness washed over you along with a rather piercing contraction.

Silva stayed with you through it all, refusing to leave even as you were rushed into the delivery room. There was not one moment that passed that Silva wasn't letting you grip as tightly as you needed to his hand, speaking in a low rumble that he only reserved for rare moments of sensitivity.

Everything was primarily a blur to you, passing by in seconds that lasted hours and hours that lasted seconds. So when you finally heard that cry and a faint congratulations, you were already blacking out far too quickly to respond as your entire body achingly tried to reduce the tension in your over worked muscles.

Silva's heart rate jacked through the roof as you went limp in his arms, clearly something having gone wrong during delivery. The honest desperation in not only his actions, but in his very being seemed to leech out any other emotion, his eyes never leaving your face all while the doctor and nurses scrambled around you to do what they could. Silva had dealt with being alone while growing up and never wanted to experience it again, the simple idea of losing you causing the most blood-thirsty aura to spill from him.

If the sheer intimidation wasn't enough to get the medical staff working desperately, that cold glare Silva had locked them with sure as hell would be. There were no questions as to the nature of the consequences they face should they fail, the presence of the dangerous man only serving to add more stress unto the delivery room. The infant had been taken away somewhere quiet and safe so the doctor and nurses could focus on your suddenly poor condition, knowing that their only chance of survival was ensuring you survived.

Silva refused to move or leave or even look away from you before the doctor was able to say confidently that you would live. Even after that time came and passed as you were brought back to a stable condition, Silva had no intention to ever leave your side.

Thanks to the fact his father kept your condition a secret on favor of Silva completing a job, Silva refused to be away from you for any longer than a few days from then on. No more month long jobs that required him to leave you for large chunks of time, now he was committed to staying by your side as often as he possibly could. He adored you and honestly figured heirs weren't worth the risk of you dying, resolving to remove any pregnancy that may occur before you became aware of it.

Two was already too many for him. He didn't want to share you with anyone, but at least the two boys will keep his father off his back about continuing the family line.

He could deal with the brats, so long as everyone knew you were his. He adored you and kidnapped you just so he could get close to you, there's no way he would give you up for anything in the world. You were his world, and ue would protect you until the bitter end.

[animeomegas]

MY FELLOW ANON ARE VIOLATING MY EMOTIONS TODAY 😂 god I’m acc crying. Your writing is amazing. I’m gonna combat the sadness with a wholesome thing of them finding a pup in a bin (or something) a few months after the loss of the first pup (Neji is currently shut down entirely) is like “lol gimme”. Proceeds to take the pup home, put it in his nest scent the lil bean (gender is your choice) and just be like “yeah this mine now”. Any nay sayers are ignored bc it’s still his baby (maybe almost like his pup reincarnated 👀👀) regardless of how baby was obtained. Idk I just think my guy needs some positivity after life kicking the ever loving shit out of him

This is beautiful and you’re right, Neji deserves the world, but I’ll settle with a quiet life and some happiness for my boy!

Okay, so things haven’t been…good with Neji since you had to let your pup die to save him.

It has been two months and still he lays in his nest every day, sometimes crying, sometimes whining, but mostly just staring at nothing. He had incorporated a bunch of baby stuff (blankets, toys etc.) into his nest before he went to the hospital, in order to make his pup feel more at home in the nest when he was supposed to bring them back. You had tried to take them out to stop him having to be confronted with what happened in his safe space, but Neji almost attacked you for doing so, so you let him keep them.

But it’s very concerning when he spends hours at a time just stroking the pup's blankets and staring at nothing.

So, you decide to take Neji on a walk to get him out of the house. It would be his first time leaving the house since the funeral.

You go at night time, because Neji is still refusing any contact with anyone he knows and this way he’s less likely to be confronted when he isn’t ready for it. To make extra sure that you can be alone, you decide to walk around the edge of the woods around one of the quieter training grounds.

Neji doesn’t speak much, but he doesn’t whine or cry either, and the night air brings a little colour to his cheeks, and you’re so happy at the small improvements. It doesn’t matter how long it ends up taking him to feel better, you’ll be here with him the whole way.

…

“I was thinking about cooking something special next week,” you make idle conversation, not expecting Neji to reply. “It’s our anniversary after all, do you have any preference?”

Neji stops walking suddenly. His shoulders are tense.

“Neji?”

He hushes you harshly.

“I can hear…”

Without another word of warning, Neji makes his way a little further into the trees. You follow him, confused and worried.

“Byakugan!” he calls, scanning the area. He gasps as he scans over a nearby bush and immediately he drops to his knees beside it.

“Neji?” you ask, now more than a little concerned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You watch as Neji pulls something out of the bush. He turns around with a bundle in his arms.

“It’s a pup,” Neji says, obviously shocked. You can’t blame him, you’re feeling more than a little shocked yourself. What on earth was a pup doing out here? “They’re freezing. Give me your jacket.”

Without hesitance, you quickly slip your jacket of and hand it to Neji who promptly bundles up the pup in it and brings them to his chest. The pup is making small whimpering noises that had been almost impossible to hear over the wind. Neji must have hear them, thank goodness.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Neji coos to the pup. “You’re safe now, I'll take you home and make it better, I promise.”

“We need to get them to the hospital asap," you say, shaking your head. "They must be freezing and they look underweight as well. We’re not mednin, Neji.”

“Our home is closer.”

“Neji…”

“We need to make sure they’re warm,” he argues. “We can bring them home and alert a medic to make a home visit.”

You look at the earnest look on his face and know that he won’t back down, and now isn’t a time for arguments anyway.

“Okay,” you swallow nervously. “We’ll bring them home.”

…

You bring the pup back to your home and before you can protest, Neji brings them into his nest with a mumbled ‘they’ll be warm in there’.

Neji bundles himself and the pup up in the corner of the nest, turning on a little heater beside him, and tucking the pup into his shirt to share body warmth.

“We’ll get you nice and warm, it’s okay, you’re safe, I won’t let anyone harm you,” he whispers while stroking their cheek with a finger. The pup wriggles around, already looking more energetic, and starts mouthing at Neji’s chest.

“Are you hungry?” Neji laughs softly before turning to you. “Go and heat up a bottle for the pup, all the supplies are in the… the nursery.”

You nod dumbly and do as you’re asked, astounded at how much life is in Neji’s eyes. It’s the most life you’ve seen from him in months. But you can’t help but worry. What if Neji gets attached and you can’t keep the pup? Of course, you want nothing more than to keep the baby, it almost seems too good to be true that she literally fell into both your lives at this trying time, but what if it is too good to be true? What if they’re sick? Or their parents are looking for them? Or… something else. Neji doesn’t deserve another heartbreak, and you don’t want to destroy the small amount of progress he’s made in the last month.

But for now, all you can do is heat up the bottle.

…

“Here, it’s a good temperature, I already checked,” you pass Neji the bottle. He checks it again anyway and you can’t help but smile at how overprotective and parental he's being. It's so bittersweet to see him like this.

“Here you go sweetheart, just for you,” Neji smiles, cradling the pup as they latch onto the bottle with fervour. “Shh, shh, shh, slow down, it’s not going anywhere.”

Neji feeds the pup and then burps them, and you pretend you can’t see him smiling when he notices that they are starting to smell like him. You need to know you can keep her before you let him get even more attached.

“I’m going to send a clone for a medic, now.”

The room became tense all at once.

“They’re fine, I’m looking after them,” Neji protests.

“I know, and you’re doing a good job, but we still need a medic, Neji.”

Neji holds the pup more tightly to his chest, tucking an extra blanket around them. He's using the special blanket you had got commissioned for your pup. You can feel your heart break at the sight. He's already attached. Now you just have to hope you can keep them. For his sake.

“I don’t want them to take the pup away like last time,” Neji admits softly. "I can look after them, I won't let anything happen like last time, I promise. They'll be safe, we don't need a medic."

“We need to know their primary and secondary gender, omega, and we need to make sure they aren’t sick after being left in the woods…”

Neji hesitates but nods his consent in the end after you explain that your pup could become ill if left untreated. You don’t tell him that you are also sending a clone to the Hokage. Naruto will be able to grant you and Neji the right to keep the pup, and you hope that as Neji’s friend, he’ll be able to see how much he needs this.

…

You have to move Neji and the pup downstairs to wait for the medic, because Neji would not appreciate someone unknown seeing his nest he made for his pup. He’s not expecting Naruto to show up as well so you go to the door to intercept and prep them both.

“Thank you so much for coming, Naruto, I can’t tell you how much this means to me and Neji,” you say, hugging him as he walks through the door.

“I’m going to do everything I can,” he promises. “If the medic finds signs of long-term neglect, I can take the parental rights away from the biological parents straight away, even if I don't know who they are, and transfer you the rights.”

Your face visibly brightens, but Naruto continues.

“But if the only injuries are from laying in the forest for a few hours, I’ll have to try and find the parents first, because the child may have been taken from them by force, when the pup was otherwise a healthy baby being looked after sufficiently. In that circumstance, I’ll have to take the child back with me and put them in foster care until a three-month window has passed. And if the parents are found…”

“I know,” you sigh. “Let’s just get this done as soon as possible.”

The three of you walk into the living to see Neji cradling the pup tightly against his chest.

“Hey Neji,” Naruto greets softly with a sad smile. “I haven’t seen you around for a while.”

Neji tenses upon seeing Naruto.

“Naruto? Why are you here?” Neji clearly misinterprets the situation, holding the pup even more tightly and turning accusatory eyes against you. “Why did you bring him here?”

“I’m here to determine whether the pup was abandoned or kidnapped to the best of my abilities, once we have that done, we can decide how things are going to happen, okay?”

“How do you decide that?” Neji asks with distrustful eyes.

“The medic will give them a check-up, completely routine, I promise,” Naruto speaks with a soft voice like he’s talking to a cornered animal. Well, you look at Neji for a moment who is coiled as tightly as spring, he’s not far off.

It takes about five minutes for you to convince Neji to let go of the pup and hand them to the mednin, and then the next fifteen minutes involve you holding him in your arms to stop him wrestling the pup back from the mednin.

And then, rather ominously, the mednin pulls Naruto aside to talk.

Neji is shaking in your arms.

“It’s okay, calm down, Neji,” you try to comfort him.

“I can’t-“ Neji chokes, hands fisting in your shirt. “He has our pup, you let them take our pup.”

You don’t bother to correct him on his use of ‘our’, knowing it would only upset him more.

“I know baby, but they need to see that they’re healthy, nothing’s wrong, just breathe.”

Neji doesn’t take your advice.

"Last time they took them-"

"This isn't like last time, omega. Come one, try and settle down a little, that's it."

...

Naruto eventually walks back in, holding the pup securely, the mednin nowhere to be seen.

“So,” Naruto says seriously. And then his face breaks out into a wide grin. “Am I right in thinking you want to adopt?”

You can almost feel your relief in the air. Thanking every power that be for this stroke of luck. Losing this pup could have easily meant losing your mate, and the gravity of the situation all comes crashing down at once. Neji looks as though he is feeling much the same.

“Give me them,” he orders, arms out.

“Her,” Naruto corrects. “The mednin said she’s a female alpha.”

Tears start welling up in Neji’s eyes as he takes her. Their bio pup was a female alpha, too.

“Thank you,” he whispers to no one, holding his new pup as tightly as he dared. “I’ve got you now, you’re safe and sound with me, I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Naruto slips out of the house without a fuss, dropping the mednin’s recommendations for feeding the underweight pup on the coffee table.

...

You and Neji take your new pup upstairs and bundle her back into the nest. Neji lays down with her, stroking her cheek as he watches her sleep.

“You need to get some rest too, omega,” you suggest, running a hand down Neji’s back.

“Guard?” he asks in response.

“Yes," you smile at his protective instincts. "I’ll guard the nest while you sleep, I promise.”

“Okay, alpha…” Neji settles down, still with one hand resting on the pup. “But if I don’t wake up when she cries, wake me… I want to be the one to feed her.”

You laugh gently, “Of course, now get some sleep. I’ll guard you both.”

[itscominghome]

𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡

Requested by: @masterclassbaby

Summary: You and Mason have been living together throughout the whole of the pandemic and it's started to calm down now. But when you test positive for Covid-19, Mason doesn't care if he gets sick too, he just wants to look after you.

Notes: Requests are open for players currently on my Football Masterlist so ask away xx

The cough that I let out racked through my body, hacking and merciless. Since I'd woken up this morning, I'd been feeling like absolute shit. A cough would rip through me every few minutes, my throat felt like it was being scratched out by a cat's claws, my sense of taste and smell? Non-existent. I'd tested positive for coronavirus a few days before my symptoms had begun to show and Mason and I had immediately made the decision to sleep in different rooms, just in case I passed it onto him. I knew what effects it would have on his career if he got seriously unwell and I wasn't letting him risk everything he'd worked towards, no matter how hard it was to sleep in a bed without him next to me. It was weird not waking up to forehead kisses and cuddles and weird not being able to kiss him goodbye as he left for training. Because of all the vaccinations and the progression made on slowing the spread of the virus, Mason wasn't made to self-isolate with me. I'd make him do lateral flow tests every morning just to check, making sure his teammates were all kept covid-free too.

I thought I was going to get through my isolation without actually getting sick, possibly just being a carrier. But the way I felt this morning didn't make me feel very hopeful about that. Or hopeful at all. When I'd managed to get myself out of bed, I noticed Mason had already left for work. I struggled to walk, making my way down the stairs suddenly felt like a great feat. By the time I'd crashed back onto my bed, I couldn't lift my head back off my pillow and my eyes could barely open. My body just felt so tired.

A couple of hours later, I hear the door open and Mason shouts up to me.

"Baby?" I don't even have the energy to shout back to him, my throat in too much agony. I hear a rush of feet hurry up the stairs and my door creaks open. His face drops, I'm clearly not looking my best whilst huddled up in all the blankets I could find, and my duvet.

"Oh, baby..." he says making his way over to me.

"Mase, don't, you'll get sick too," I say as he places his hand on the top of my head. He flips his hand over and feels the heat of my cheeks, still fussing over me.

"Mase, seriously, I don't want you catching anything," I croak out. He shakes his head.

"I don't care, I'll just stay at home too, then we can look after each other," he says before rushing downstairs. I watch his figure leave the room, a confused look on my face, but it's not long before he's back. He turns the light on, my eyes not liking it in the slightest and causing me to wince slightly in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, love," he apologises before sitting down next to me on the bed, an assortment of medicines being dumped next to him.

"I'm going to need you to sit up for me." My attempt is futile and Mason has to help pull me up so that my back is against the headboard.

"Look, I know you hate this stuff," Mason begins, holding up a bottle of Covonia cough medicine, provoking a groan, "but it should stop that nasty cough you have. And I've got some Vaporub for your blocked nose, Strepsils for your throat and some Ibuprofen." I smile weakly, it's cute how his protective instinct kicks in, even when it's a sickness, he's always been that way. I really don't want to accept his help though, knowing what close contact could mean for him.

"Mase, I know you're trying to help, bu-"

"No buts,"

"What a shame," I say playfully, trying the best I can to be light-hearted, "but seriously Mase, if you get sick, it could have lasting health effects for you. And who knows what that would mean for your career. You'd have to work so hard to get your fitness back to where it is right now, you wouldn't be able to start matches for weeks. You've worked so hard to get to where you are today, I'm not letting you jeopardise it because I'm a little bit unwell,"

"Well, it's a good thing it's my choice, you don't have to let me. I'm going to look after you. In sickness and in health and all that," I roll my eyes at his perseverance.

"So, are you going to let me help?" he asks, pouring a 5ml spoonful of the cough medicine. I nod weakly, knowing there's no way I could ever win this argument. I open my mouth, ready for the foul-tasting liquid. I quickly swallow it, my loss of taste meaning that the flavour was a little milder. He follows straight up with a second spoonful, getting it over and done with. He follows with an Ibuprofen tablet and a glass of water, then a Strepsil, the flavour lost on my tongue. And finally, he finishes with the Vaporub, carefully rubbing it into the skin on my chest.

"Thank you," I rasp. He sits with me until I've finished my Strepsil and then helps me to lay down. He presses a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"I'll bring you a bottle of ice water in a minute and then I'll leave you to rest for a bit," he says, cupping my cheek as I lean into his touch.

"I love you," I whisper, barely audible.

"I love you too, baby," he says, making his exit.

A few hours later, I woke up to Mason's sleeping form clinging to me. His chin lay atop my head, an arm wrapped tightly around my waist and my legs locked in place by his.

"You better not complain, if you get sick," I groan, but secretly loving that I was back in the arms of my boyfriend.

"I won't,"

"I can't believe you got me sick!" Mason complains a few days later, as I give him his very own spoonful of that god-awful cough medicine.

"You said you wouldn't complainnnn," I say in a sing-song voice.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Bite to Break Skin {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Welcome to my first time writing for A/B/O dynamics, one of my absolute favorite things in fanfic. There’s so much potential and I’m definitely interested in exploring it with other characters! Just a small heads up, this one is pretty dialogue heavy throughout.

“C’mon,” he said as his breathing finally slowed, “we gotta get up.”

The fingers combing through his damp hair paused. “Can I wear your shirt?”

“You’ve been wearin’ ‘em for years, ain’t gonna stop you now, idiot,” he huffed as he peeled himself away from her, their skin tacky with sweat. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t be shitty to me, Katsuki, I have your virginity!”

“And I have yours. Even exchange. No reason to stop teasing you,” he grunted. Pulling her to her feet he guided her towards his bathroom with a hand on her lower back.

They cleaned up in easy silence, each of them still feeling the content fuzziness in their minds that now seemed amplified and even better than usual. At different points they briefly wondered if that was normal after losing their virginities.

Probably, they decided. For them it was a natural progression in their over two-year relationship. Having gotten together just after the provisional license exam in their first year their hero course schedules only got busier and they got less time to spend together between classes and training and work studies and internships. But those moments were coveted and left plenty of time for them to take their relationship at the perfect pace for them.

Two years of wandering hands and mouths had culminated that afternoon while the majority of the class had gone to the shopping district and neither of them could regret a single thing about it.

“Katsuki?”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded and expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” she smiled, fingers absently twisting the hem of his shirt that she wore.

“’Course you do,” he smirked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and returned them to his bed, the grey sheets rumpled. He bunched them down to the end of the mattress and laid down, pulling her to lie next to him curled into his side.

He was always so warm and she loved it, now especially as the chill of January lingered in the dorm hallways and throughout their rooms. Being close to him as they laid together was one of her favorite things about their relationship. As much as he seemed like a loner in their first weeks at UA she never believed it was true and once they were together behind closed doors he was happy as long as they had some sort of contact with each other. She’d never been prouder of being right than that day.

His attentiveness was something she knew would likely contribute heavily to his secondary gender when he presented in the future. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be an alpha, and an amazing one at that. His protective streak and pride in his own abilities couldn’t be attributed to any other presentation. While she herself was unsure of what she would present as, he had always promised that it didn’t matter.

“Alphas want omegas but I want you, and that means I get you no matter what we are,” he’d grumbled one evening not that long ago when she revealed her fears of presenting as a beta and not being what his alpha would need. “Secondary gender can go fuck itself if it thinks I’d leave you over some random omega. Shit, you don’t even know if I’d be an alpha anyway, dumbass.”

If she hadn’t been sure about him before, that conversation had cemented it in her mind and in her heart. Katsuki Bakugo was the one for her and it sent her heart into a tailspin to know that he felt the same way.

She pressed herself closer to him, basking in the warmth of his body and of her thoughts.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled against her forehead.

“So’re you.”

“Nah, your skin’s pink like you took one of your showers from hell.”

She huffed out a laugh. “’M fine, Katsuki. It’s ‘cause you’re warm and I’m still kinda hot from before.”

“You’re always hot,” he said with a pinch to the seat of her underwear.

“Just cuddle me, you ass.”

His arms tightened around her and they laid together in comfortable silence. At one point she started to doze against the warmth of Katsuki’s chest, one hand on his hip at the waistband of his sweats. She’d never felt safer.

In the middle of her dreamless nap she awoke to a persistent poking to her nose. When she opened her eyes, her boyfriend’s furrowed brow came into focus as she blinked. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.

“You’ve got a fever.”

She wanted to protest but the trails of sweat she could feel having trickled down her back was unmistakable. She definitely felt warm but she wasn’t disoriented or feeling sick.

“It’s like a full body fever,” Katsuki muttered, dropping his hand from her forehead.

“I feel really hot, but I don’t feel sick,” she told him, sleep leaving her as confusion took over.

He fisted the collar of the shirt she wore at the base of her neck, squeezing for just a moment before pulling back a glistening hand.

“Shirt’s soaked with sweat, take it off and I’ll get you one of my tanks,” he said, rolling out of bed and walking over to his drawers.

She peeled the sticky fabric from her skin, the feeling more uncomfortable than the fact that she was sitting topless once it was off. Nothing Katsuki hadn’t seen plenty of times after all.

A black tank top hit her chest before falling to her lap and she picked it up immediately, pressing her nose into the bundle. It’d barely been a minute since he left her side but she needed the comfort. Which is why when all she smelled was the scent of detergent her nose wrinkled.

“It doesn’t smell like you,” she complained, and he laughed from where he was straightening the other tank tops in his drawer.

“It’s clean, dumbass, I haven’t worn it yet. I’ll be next to you again in like two seconds anyway.”

“Hurry up,” she whined, slipping the tank top over her head and surprising him with her needy tone. “I haven’t smelled roasting chestnuts in almost two minutes, this is cruel. I even miss the little bit of sugar.”

He turned to her with furrowed brows. “I smell like that right now?”

“You smell like that all the time, ever since I’ve known you. What, you don’t know what your own cologne smells like anymore? You gone nose blind?”

He shook his head slowly. “My cologne is sandalwood. Always has been. The sugar I’ll give you because of my quirk but your perfume has nothing on that with your sweet cherries’n shit.”

Now it was her turn to be confused. “That’s not my perfume, Katsuki. My perfume is the same floral one I’ve worn since middle school, it’s not fruity or sweet at all. Come here, do I smell like that now?”

He crossed back over to the bed and sat in front of her, gently tugging her forward to press his nose into her hair. Her face tucked under his chin and she breathed in the same familiar scent.

“Sugared cherries just like always,” he muttered. “Do I…?”

“Mhm, roasted chestnuts with a pinch of sugar,” she replied almost dreamily. It was stronger than usual, but maybe that’s because she was concentrating on it. It felt like it was surrounding her and through her and it made her skin burn hotter. It was good. So so good, and she wanted and she needed more.

She pressed herself closer to him, his confused grunt falling on deaf ears until he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her from himself to look at her. He’d felt her skin grow warmer against his bare chest, the heat startling. But when he looked at her panic shot through him as she doubled over with a whimper.

He called her name but she didn’t answer, just clutched her stomach harder while curling further into herself and whining low in her throat.

“Alright, hey, hey, listen, okay? I’m calling Aizawa, he’ll help us figure out what’s wrong,” he tried to soothe, pulling her back into his chest. Her skin burned against his but he needed her to know he was here, he wasn’t going anywhere when she wasn’t alright.

It was awkward trying to reach his phone on the bedside table with her curled against him but he was hellbent on making her feel better and if that meant practically popping his shoulder out of its socket with the stretch so fucking be it.

“What’s wrong, Bakugo?” was the greeting he got and he immediately started listing off what was happening as she continued to tremble in his lap.

“She’s burning up to the point I feel like I’m touching an oven and she—”

“Todoroki’s still in the dorms, call him up and have—”

“NO!” he snarled into the phone. “He doesn’t need to be near her, just tell me how I can help her! She’s in fucking pain and nearly incoherent right now! You’re not fucking helping me!”

Aizawa was silent for a long moment. “Bakugo, where are you two?”

“We’re in my dorm and I’d appreciate if you could save the damn lecture for when she’s actually conscious enough to fuckin’ hear it too.”

“How long has she been like this? What was she doing when she started feeling the fever? Is there anything that’s—”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t know! An hour or so and we were just here, she was asleep while I scrolled through my phone.”

Aizawa’s tone went knowing as he prompted, “And before that?”

He weighed his options for answering. They were already in shit for her being on the boys’ side of the dorms, how much worse could it be? They were consenting adults and they were responsible about it and if it did help figure out why she was—

“That’s what I thought,” Aizawa sighed before he could decide how to answer. “I can’t be there to help but I’m sending Recovery Girl. Try and keep her comfortable until she arrives.”

When the line went dead, he could only mumble out curses as he dropped his phone and kept her pressed against him. Her little noises of pain had lessened and she didn’t feel as tightly coiled in his arms as she had, but he was still worried. At least the old lady might actually be able to do something.

“Well I must hand it to Aizawa,” Recovery Girl chuckled as she pulled the thermometer from her lips, “the man does know his students.”

“The hell are you laughing for?” Bakugo hissed. He had been pacing back and forth while she examined her, hovering close and getting more frustrated by the moment. Sure, his girlfriend didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment but he wanted whatever caused it to be taken care of now.

“Don’t take that tone with me, boy, you may be an alpha but I won’t be disrespected.”

He did a double take, sputtering, “An alpha? I’m eighteen, I haven’t presented!”

She smiled in amusement. “Not fully, no, but you’re both presenting as we speak. Fated mates can present at an earlier age when establish an intimate connection prior to turning twenty. It likely hit her first being an omega and that pulled you over too. I must say I’m a bit surprised as fated mates are quite rare at your age, though maybe even more so that this took so long. It’s admirable of you children to take things slow but when I was your age—”

“We’re fated mates?” she murmured, breaking the older woman’s rambling. “So we…?”

“Quite a spin on the high school sweetheart’s trope wouldn’t you say? Certainly a story for the pups.”

“Wait, so she’s burning up because…” he trailed off as his cheeks flushed pink. “This is…”

“Yes, yes, this is her heat beginning and your rut will follow, keep up boy. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail on that—”

“NO!” they shouted together, mortified.

She laughed, high pitched and maniacal. “Oh alright, I’ve had my fun. You children are so easy to poke at these days. But I do suppose we need to get you prepared for the next week or so. Dear, make a list of things you’ll need from your room and Bakugo will go fetch them for you.”

“I can’t just go myself?”

“Look at that boy’s face and tell me he’s alright with you leaving his den.”

Of course when she looked to him Katsuki’s face was contorted into an angry grimace, his lips twitching back to bare his teeth.

“Just tell me what you need,” he ground out, and she quickly rattled off everything she could think of that she may possibly need. Without a word he disappeared through the door, a lingering touch to her hand a silent promise to return quickly so as to soothe any worries of abandonment or actions that could be interpreted as rejection by her inner omega.

Recovery Girl turned the chair towards her and grabbed her bag from the floor. “We have a few things to discuss now, dear.”

She went over the arrangements made by Aizawa for their classes and schoolwork as well as daily drop offs of prepared bento boxes for them since they wouldn’t be leaving Bakugo’s room. Their parents had been contacted which sent a fresh wave of nausea through her for reasons other than the heat, but she was assured that it wasn’t as a punishment since they were both eighteen. Still, she could only image the conversation she would hear at the end of her heat when she heard from home.

Expectations of what would happen during the shared heat and rut were next and she while she was sure her face couldn’t get any hotter, she was proven wrong. As awkward as it was though, at least she was talking it over with another woman; having the same conversation with Aizawa would have killed her.

Finally, it seemed that the verbal torture was finished as Recovery Girl reached into her medical bag with one hand and beckoned her closer with the other.

“Let me see your arm, I need to give you a preventative injection.”

“Ah, I uhm,” she stuttered, cheeks still reddened but not from the heat, “I’m already taking…”

Recovery Girl shook her head with a chuckle. “Presenting alters your existing biology by releasing additional hormones which awaken parts of your mind and body that contribute to the primal instincts of your secondary gender. Generic contraceptive methods would be fine for a newly presented beta but as an omega the hormones released at presentation boost your fertility to a point where the pill may as well be candy for all the prevention it does.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now unless you and that boy of yours have decided that you want pups within the year I need to give you this.” The syringe was brandished in front of her.

She held out her arm and she cleaned the area with a swab before feeling the familiar prick to her skin and the cold chill spread into her heated blood.

“Any last questions for me before he gets back?”

She went to shake her head but paused. “Just… what about our quirks?”

“Nothing to worry about, dear. Quirks take a backseat during these times unless a threat arises. Once bonded you will kill and die for the other and your pups, but for right now you two shouldn’t have an issue. I’d say ‘won’t’ but I think we both know your class has a habit of finding trouble, hm?”

“More like trouble finds us,” came a grunt from the doorway.

Katsuki reentered the room with her laundry basket on his hip and a tote bag over his shoulder. He visibly relaxed as he crossed the threshold and set her things on the floor at the foot of his bed.

She sat down on the plush area rug to go through what he’d brought, her legs tucked beneath her as Recovery Girl began speaking to him about the upcoming week like she’d done for her.

Rifling through the laundry basket she pulled out her pillows and blankets as well as her favorite hoodies, then she pulled everything out of the tote and put those sweaters and shirts onto Katsuki’s bed. Once everything was piled atop his sheets she began to sort through everything, enjoying the familiar smell of her own things mixing with the scent of Katsuki’s den. She hoped he would scent a few of his shirts and let her use his pillows and blankets for her nest.

“…and once you know the heat and rut have passed I’d like you to give me a call so I can come and assess you two.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki mumbled, his cheeks burning from the conversation as he took the offered slip of paper with her number. He’d never been more relieved to have a conversation end, and as soon as the door closed behind the terrible old bat he turned back to his girlfriend and his heart nearly stopped.

She was absently arranging his sheets with some of what he’d brought from her dorm to make the beginnings of her nest. Their combined scents filled his room to an almost dizzying potency but he had never felt more alive, more proud, and his inner alpha growled happily in his chest. Here was his mate, his omega, building a sweet-smelling nest in his den for the two of them and their pups.

The thought of pups broke through the haze of his instincts to allow nerves to set it. They were only eighteen and just about to finish their last few months at UA before becoming fully licensed heroes. Having pups wasn’t something they could do, at least… at least not now.

Recovery Girl had mentioned the preventative and rationally he knew that she wouldn’t give them something designed to fail and he was grateful for that but at the same time, he’d love to have pups with his mate. She was everything he could ever imagine wanting in a partner and he knew his mate would be the best mother to his pups. He’d thought so long before they presented and he was sure he’d think it until he took his last breath.

Her soft voice brought him out of his musings as she looked up at him through her lashes and shyly asked, “Could you… scent a few of your shirts and sweaters? For the nest?”

“’Course,” he replied, and seeing her eyes flicker towards his discarded pillows added, “You can use anything of mine. We’re mates.”

The heat-induced flush on her cheeks darkened slightly with embarrassment, but she nudged his pillow towards him anyway. He grabbed it and held it in his hands feeling both uncharacteristically anxious about scenting something for the first time and filled with pride at his mate seeking out his scent for her nest.

As he scented different things for her and she took them to construct their home for the next week or so he could see the flush fading little by little and he saw less sweat droplets running down her hairline. It was almost as if the larger and more structured the nest grew the tamer her inner omega became. That soothed him too, making him thankful for the calm before the storm of her first heat really began and pulled his rut to the forefront with it.

He leaned against the far wall as she worked in silence arranging their things into the what he assumed was a perfect nest—he didn’t know much about omega nesting instincts but it looked inviting enough to him that he had no qualms about spending the next week tangled with her in the textile haven. It was as if the movement she caused sent more of that sweet smell of hers wafting through the room and he could’ve sworn the sugary scent was getting stronger by the moment.

With a few last cursory pats to the sweatshirt walls she looked up at him.

"Do you think we'll lose ourselves in the heat and rut?" she asked quietly, shifting from foot to foot.

Katsuki sighed. "That's what happens with most people."

"You know, I… I knew you were it for me a long time ago, Katsuki. This morning is an amazing memory and I guess, even if this is how we get to spend the rest of our lives I'd like to remember this first too."

"Then maybe we can bond before it fully hits. I can… smell that it's going to hit hard again and that you're already feeling it creep up.”

The slick feeling between her thighs meant he was probably right. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I guess I'm just nervous."

"Hey, I know this whole thing became way bigger than either of us thought but I’m still me—the alpha part doesn’t change that. Shit I couldn’t even think of hurting you without wanting to die before, can you imagine what type of insufferably sweet asshole I’m gonna be now?” he asked with only mild disgust as he crossed his room to lay one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek.

The smile he received was worth the uncomfortable admission of his feelings; reassurance wasn’t his forte and sharing his feelings even less so but he’d always try for her.

“I know, and I’m happy you’re the one I get to be with.”

“C’mon, your nest looks good,” he said, easing her forward towards his bed. “We able to get in it yet?”

She kissed his cheek. “Yeah, let’s get in our nest, alpha.”

The shudder was hard for him to suppress, but he allowed her to pull him into the plush space where they laid together once more. They laid on their sides facing one another and Katsuki reached out to stroke his thumb over the back of her hand where it lay between them.

It was an unspoken agreement to take all the time they could before allowing themselves to indulge in the instincts of their new secondary genders, and they spoke quietly about what it all meant for them.

Mates were more permanent than marriage and fated mates even more so. The idea of claiming bites at only eighteen was daunting but at the same time it was always the plan anyway. Of course they knew they’d present but that seemed far off and more inconsequential the longer they were together prior to a few hours ago. They had their after-graduation plans and a claim had been a mutual desire, and even pups sometime in the far future. Secondary gender, as Katsuki had loved to point out, wouldn’t change that.

But with the presentations occurring and revealing them as an alpha/omega pair there were still some things that hadn’t been discussed or planned for, and they needed to be addressed.

“I’m getting warmer,” she murmured.

“We’ve got a long week ahead of us but it’s nothing we can’t handle,” he smirked.

She gave him a weak smile and pushed past her nerves to bring up what had been on her mind since her talk with Recovery Girl.

"Will… will you…?"

"If you want to, we can bond now while we're still mostly clear-headed. Some shit I’d like to remember too, you know?"

Her cheeks went pink. "No—well, yes that's probably a good idea but I… I'm… will you actually knot me?"

He choked on his tongue. "Fuck, shit, do you want me to? Do I need to? For your heat?"

"I don’t— Don't you need it to get through your rut?"

"It's… I don't want to make the decision for you, alright? If you want me to I will and if you don’t I won’t. ‘S always your choice.”

She rolled onto her side to face him, one hand rising up to trace his cheekbone and the slope of his nose, even the dip of his cupid’s bow until she came to a stop at his chin. She pressed lightly and he turned his head to look at her.

“I’m not afraid of you or anything like that. It’s all just very sudden and a lot to wrap my head around, you know? Six hours ago we were virgins and now we’re literally together for life. That’s not bad, just a lot.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “But it’s why I want you to make the call. I ain’t gonna force you to do something you don’t want. We got forever to figure our shit out.”

She laughed. “Yeah we do. For now though, I want you to. We’re gonna bond today and then heatshare, rutshare, and get tied together for the next week. This morning was amazing and now that we know we’re fated mates I think that’s gonna make it even better.”

“Once is all it took to get you addicted, huh?”

“Shut up!” she whined as she pushed against his shoulder and turned away with a blush. His loud laughter echoed throughout his room and she crossed her arms with a pout.

“Oi. Look at me.”

She rolled onto her side to face him again, lips still pouted cutely. His eyes were soft as he looked over her face and she felt proud of the small smile upturning his mouth as he did.

He reached out to smooth a hand over her hair and then gently nudged her shoulder. “Lie back.”

She moved onto her back and he settled himself over her, lying between her parted legs. It was familiar and made her smile; they’d laid together like this a hundred times over the course of their relationship and maybe it was the perfect way to cross into something more permanent.

“Katsuki,” she murmured, feeling his hands go below the tank top. He pushed it up and over her head, tossing it to the side and fixing her with an unwavering gaze.

His hands slid beneath her, pressed between her body and the sheets below, and he kissed her softly. Her hands slid up his back before settling over the solid muscle of his shoulders.

“’M gonna be the best alpha on the fuckin’ planet,” he said as they pulled apart. His lips ghosted over her cheek and down her jaw to settle at her neck. “Know I already got the best omega.”

“Will you say it?” she asked quietly, closing her eyes.

The huff of a laugh and curl of his lips on her skin made her shiver. He moved in closer to her and raised up to whisper exactly what she wanted.

“I love you.”

Her arms tightened around him and tried pulling him closer but she knew it would never feel like enough until they bonded.

Katsuki seemed to understand that too because he moved back to her neck and grazed his lips teasingly for just a second before sinking his teeth into the perfect spot as a claim.

She gasped as her head tipped back at the rush of sensations that seemed to flow from the bite. Her brain filled with static but her body felt a rush of coldness like ice water had been poured over her to combat the heat she’d been feeling for so long. Her heart sped up in her chest and she knew it was synched perfectly with Katsuki’s. The entirety of her being was aligned with his and the bond cemented as she let herself move forward and bite into her mate’s neck to stake her own claim.

Time seemed to speed up before slowing down again when she was tasting blood off of both her and Katsuki’s lips as his hands cradled her face and kissed her deeply. The coolness she had experienced during the claim had been almost completely swallowed by the heat she felt pulsing through her and becoming tangible as a needy whine against his mouth. He was so close and smelled so perfect and she wondered if she could feel him closer, her hands digging into the defined muscles of his shoulders as she held him against her.

“Look at my pretty mate,” he said lowly, his voice hushed. He nosed against the underside of her jaw just above the fresh bite as his hands roamed over her torso. “My omega, smellin’ so sweet just for me.”

The purr that bubbled from her lips surprised her but his warm hands on her and the quiet praise pushed it aside quickly when he kneaded her chest.

Her hands traced over his arms, fingers trailing down over dips of muscle. “The strongest alpha I know is all mine. I’m so lucky to have such a handsome mate.”

A please growl rumbled through his chest as her fingers hooked in his waistband and began sliding down the sweatpants until he was able to kick them off. He quickly returned the favor with her underwear to leave them both completely bare. With their scents completely unhindered for the first time with the bond formed, they could both smell the heavy, warm sweetness of roasted chestnuts and cherries that filled his dorm room. It was spicy but soft and made their heads spin knowing that this was them.

Katsuki’s hands roamed the familiar curves of her body as he leaned forward to kiss around the bite mark, feeling her lips against his neck as she did the same to him. Shivers ran up his spine at the contact and a groan escaped him as his fingers reached the apex of her thighs.

“Tell me what you need.”

She whined, hands splayed on his toned stomach.

“C’mon, tell your alpha what you need,” he coaxed.

“You,” she whispered. “Your knot. Your pups. Our pups.”

When we’re ready, was the silent understanding about the request.

Their hips met as Katsuki rolled his forward, breathy moans coming from both of them as they relished the still-new feeling of intimacy and clutched onto one another tighter.

Instincts took over, cutting the moment short, and filled with room with groans and whines and pleas between the two of them. There was no slow fumbling like there had been earlier but instead the primal need to be closer and chase the pleasure that came with the heat and rut.

She kissed him hard as the heat throughout her body pooled low in her stomach and she could tell the difference in the feeling of closeness but her hazy mind couldn’t dwell on it past knowing that this was what she needed, what would finally cool her down at least a bit.

“You’re mine,” she murmured as her back arched up from the bed and her nails dug into his shoulders.

“’M yours. You’re mine,” he grunted, mouthing at the bite once more.

Their scents were overwhelming the closer they came to their end.

“C’mon alpha, need your knot,” she whined, crying out as he still within her.

His teeth sank into the bond mark fully again, and she bit into his as she felt exactly what her inner omega needed, what she herself wanted, and allowed herself to succumb to the feeling of contentment and pleasure she would live in with her mate going forward. Warm and sated and full and safe with her alpha was where she wanted to stay.

“Bakugo. A word.”

He stalked over to his teacher, watching his mate step into the hallway from the corner of his eye. The new bond was sensitive and he was anxious when he couldn’t be with her. “What?”

“May I ask which of you proposed the idea of a non-traditional bite?”

“The hell are you talking about? We both have bites and they’re scarring the right way.”

Aizawa regarded him silently for a moment before waving him off. “It’s not important. Go.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and left the room, and he gathered his sleeping bag in his arms to set up in the corner for his midday nap.

It was annoying and awkward to have to deal with the paperwork and phone calls to guardians because two of his problem children couldn’t keep it in their pants while on campus—what he wouldn’t give to have seen Mitsuki Bakugo deal with this shit—and he certainly didn’t like the fact that he had to relay to the class what had happened either. He had prepared what would’ve been one of his best punishments to date for when the overwhelming scent of newly presented and bonded mates had lessened at least a bit, but it had all been abandoned the moment the two stepped up to speak with him.

Her embarrassment was obvious, the fact that her twice her age male teacher knew exactly what had been happening in that room for the past week probably enough to make her want to vomit, but furious blush aside she held herself well. Bakugo had (likely somewhat unintentionally) over scented the room alarmingly with equal parts calm for his mate and warning to his alpha teacher, his own blush prominent.

What stood out though, was the bond mark on her neck. It was already scarring which was to be expected and its placement was correct but it was backwards. Traditionally a bond mark was given to an omega by an alpha in the midst of a shared heat and rut, primal positioning meaning that the bite was given from behind. It was biology, instinct, the overwhelming need to lay claim—he understood that, had experienced it many times over even long after a bond mark was given. Fated mates were more susceptible to this too, especially when presenting early.

But this type of bonding mark made him think that it wasn’t fueled by that need or desire built deep into the rumbling chest of an alpha. At least, not completely. Looking into someone’s eyes was intimate, vulnerabilities laid bare before the person they’re going to spend their life with. That wasn’t easy, and a week prior he would’ve said that Bakugo would probably never be able to do it. To see that it was quite the opposite and seemingly unconscious on his part was fascinating.

He considered that instinct wasn’t the reason but the more he thought about it as he sat cocooned within the warmth of his sleeping bag, the more he realized it may actually be the opposite. Maybe it was instinct. Love was funny like that sometimes.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I have a few ideas about a possible sequel for this story that would take place in the future when they’re ready, though nothing concrete just yet!

[hermitdrabbles56]

This has absolutely nothing to do with my usual content because it was from my last hyperfixation. but fuck it! I was really happy with this when I wrote and I still adore it now! Just some Eskel and Jaskier emotional hurt/comfort.

Jaksier held his head in his hands. Palms firmly pressed against his throbbing temples as if he could hold himself together that way. Staring down at the blank pages of the book he was trying to translate. Though staring was rather difficult as tears continuously flooded his vision, running down his cheeks as he tried to take slow breaths. 

Heat was prickling at the ends of his hair and spreading across his shoulders as he tried to hold everything in. It had all just suddenly become too much. The room was both too warm and too cold, his nose was so clogged up he could hardly breathe at all. He wasn't even sick, it was just an allergy flare up from all the dust in the library. Yet he still felt like a leper as everyone steered clear of him. 

Winter was fully set in, and he was thoroughly regretting having not run for the hills as soon as he could. Instead, here he was, trying to do one small thing and he couldn't even handle that. The others wouldn't let him do anything else, and the few things they did have him do they really didn't need him for as they did it anyway. He'd been pretty quickly shoved to the side and rendered completely useless. 

At the very least he thought maybe he could translate the old books Ciri needed to read. She'd been struggling with the arcaich dialect and bizarre poetic explanations. So he'd set to trying to make it easier for the princess. But the silence of the library and the aching of his sinuses seemed to be the straw to break the camel's back. 

His face was rubbed raw from trying to cope with his sneezing. Head aching with every little movement to the point he nearly felt dizzy. And now his chest was throbbing with every small breath he manages, heart fluttering unevenly in his chest with the effort to keep quiet. Even his eyes were beginning to burn from the hot tears and his fruitless attempts to dry them. 

The crushing and overwhelming feeling of loneliness despite how many people he was around, just about had him ready to pack his meager possessions and march out into the raging blizzard. See if he'd make it down or pass out and freeze to death in his cold induced sleep. The other option was to loot a couple bottles of spirits and lock himself in his room again to drown himself until his liver gave him something different to think about. It's how he'd spent the past two years as it is, why not continue the trend.

Another shuttered and stifled sob escapes him, followed by him rubbing at his stinging face as he attempts to clear his nose again. The wet disgusting noise grating on him in an even worse way than the silence trying to close around his throat. He couldn't even hum without it sounding pathetically off key. 

"Fuck this.." He huffs as he slams the book in front of him shut. 

"Jask..?" 

The low gravelly voice scares the shit out of him. Nearly causing him to leap right out of his own skin, only to look and find Eskel staring at him. The hefty witchers feline like amber eyes looking him over with a concerned pity that makes him feel even more raw. 

When he notices books in the other males arms he quickly scrubs his face with his sleeves. "Sorry..I'll clear out so you can work…not like I'm making any progress anyways." He shudders as he starts closing up the other books he has out. 

"You..don't have to leave I just..wanted to know if you were okay?" The gentleness in the big witchers tone, while in reality genuine, sounds fake in the bard's mind. 

"I'm.. I'm fine." He manages with a weak half hearted chuckle. 

"Jask..I'm actually asking…" Eskel presses gently. 

"Well..don't, okay? It's fine..just. I'll be gone in a couple of minutes." He huffs as he pushes himself onto his feet. 

Unfortunately he moves a little too fast in trying to get up and away from the chair. The whole world spinning violently as he feels himself starting to fall. Bracing himself for the inevitable impact of cold stone. And beyond surprised when he finds himself pillowed in a pair of big strong arms instead. 

"I gotcha…hold still a moment." He murmurs as he carefully gets Jaskier steady on his feet. One firm hand keeping him upright, while his other massive paw rests against the small humans forehead. Warm to the touch like the sun beating down on you during a nap in a field. "You don't have a fever at least…?" 

Jaskier can't help it as more tears start spilling down his cheeks. Nuzzling into Eskels paw of a hand in spite of himself and hiding his puffy red eyes as best he can. "..I-its just my fucking allergies….this place hasn't been dusted in ages…." 

"...when was the last time you drank actual water..?" Eskel tries carefully. 

The bardling lets out a very small indignant snort. "Water? What the fuck kind of spirit is that? Never heard of it." 

He tries to make his tone sound joking to lighten the mood, but really it just falls flat and sounds completely pathetic as his voice cracks. 

"..guessing food hasn't really been a present thought either..?" Eskel manages carefully. 

"..I grabbed some bread and cheese earlier…I think.." He mumbles quietly. Whatever it was, it wasn't exactly a meal, he'd been too tired that morning to really try and participate in breakfast after being all but ignored every time he tried too help. 

Either way the answer seems to be the last straw, the hand retreating from his forehead. He half expects the witcher to declare him not worth his time and leave. 

Instead he finds himself suddenly being picked up like a child, held against the man's chest in strong gentle arms. And without a word he starts moving. 

Oh joy..out into the snow I go…

Even if it is potentially now his fate to be thrown right out the keep doors, he doesn't have the energy to fight it. Laying limp in the others arms with his stuffy face partly smothered in Eskel's shoulder. He at least shuts his eyes tight in hopes that the tears will stop and not soak the man's shirt, seeing as his runny nose was already doing a disgusting enough job as it is. His head throbbing harder and harder with each drop of salty fluid that leaves his body. 

Just as he starts to hear the shuffling of items he hears Lamberts voice grate in his ears. Causing him to hide further into the large wolf's shoulder. 

"Did you kill it and put it out of its misery or something? The fuck is going on?" 

"No, now shut up and mind your own business." Eskel huffs. 

The command doesn't have any actual heat in it. But the way it rumbles in the wolf's chest vibrates soothingly against Jaskiers aching ribs. Causing him to swallow down and silence a heavy sob that leaves his lungs almost burning. He couldn't handle anymore ribbing on the topic of his 'fragile human emotional state' from the bitchy witcher. 

Before long Eskel is moving again, leaving the bard a little uncomfortable with the ominous lack of direction. 

"...should I be worried about where you're going to throw me..?" He finally manages very quietly. 

"I'm not going to throw you anywhere.." Eskel assures him. 

"You sure..? Because it would be well deserved…" He murmurs. 

"No it wouldn't.." 

After a couple of leaning motions and something being flopped onto the ground, Jaskier finds himself being readjusted and jostled slightly as Eskel sits. Resting the small human in his lap when he's done moving. 

Looking around a bit, Jaksier finds that they're now sitting in a pile of furs on the ground. Perched in front of the library fireplace with a cutting board holding two large bowls of rich beef stew, bread and possibly dried nuts and fruits. 

"Eat.." Is all Eskel says as he adjusts Jaskier to sit with his back and head against his chest. His voice was still gentle, but it was very much an order as one of the bowls was brought to sit in the bard's lap with some bread. 

Eskel also grabs his, but waits till Jaskier slowly starts to eat before starting his own. Leaning to the side even if it's a bit awkward so he won't accidentally spill any in the others hair. 

The stew in question is thick and rich, with big perfectly cooked chunks of; meat, potatoes and carrots. Well flavored too which tells him that Lambert thankfully was nowhere near it during the process. 

It takes a while for him to get it all down, but Eskel occasionally gives it a small touch of Igni now and again to keep it warm. For the most part the witcher idly looks over a couple of books. But as soon as his hands aren't busied by eating, he occupies them in other ways. Waiting till permission is granted before carefully combing one set of fingers though the bardling's hair. His other hand lightly rubbing at the smaller males tummy as it's slowly filled. Only ever stopping to flip a page or offer a handkerchief for Jaskier's persistent sinuses. 

Jaskier felt completely dwarfed in the wolf's hold, and some part if him felt like he should be uncomfortable. But wrapped in the others warmth, with those large, calloused, but gentle paws nearly completely covering his head and belly while moving in nonsensical patterns. The way he'd occasionally squint at the words on the page, and mumble things just loud enough that it felt like a purr in his chest. It was pure bliss. 

By the time the soup and a good bit of bread was gone the tears had stopped. His head aching a little less as he focused on the finger tips lightly massaging his scalp. He even manages to give a small chuckle when the wolf nudges a waterskin into his hands, encouraging him to start sipping at it despite how full his tummy feels. 

Eventually as he feels like he's going to fall asleep words finally find their way to his lips. His tone coming out on a sleepy amused murmur. 

"..If the foods that good all the time..I'm not going to fit in my doublets come spring…" 

The wolf gives one of those characteristically witcher hums. Such a deep sound rolling like Thunder in his chest, and continuing to as it turns into actual words. "Feel better though don't you..?" 

"Mm..yeah, a lot.." He admits with a small chuckle. 

"Then that's a good thing….besides, wintering here isn't easy, even with the protection of the keep. A little extra padding will help keep you warm, keep your muscles and bones from aching in the cold." Eskel manages as he runs light fingers over the bard's tummy again. 

"I can understand why that's important.." He murmurs quietly as he snuggles against him a bit. 

Even though winter had only just started. The big wolf was already rather soft himself. His waist and muscles already covered in a soft pillowy layer of fat. Not an uncomfortable boney spot to be found. 

So when Eskel carefully moves aside the books and the dishes. He doesn't mind being moved around by the other. Pillows being pulled off of the couch behind them and arranged before the wolf carefully lays down with the bard. 

The actions are all optional, his arms loose so that if he doesn't like it Jaskier can easily wiggle away. But the thought of pulling away from the others' warmth felt akin to pulling off his own skin. Back pressed up against the witchers strong doughy chest leaving him in a state of near perfect bliss, at least until he sneezes a couple times. Leaving his hands in gross snot because of his quick desperation to cover his face. A practically depressed whine escaping him when the fit finally stops. 

"Are the furs making it worse..? Do we need to go somewhere else?" Eskel asks carefully as he hands Jaskier another cloth and starts helping to clean him up, as if this isn't one of the most disgusting things in the world to be doing. 

"No..it's like a crack in a dam once it starts it just doesn't stop.." Jaskier whines softly as he takes the cloth and clears his nose, stupid thing filling right back up the second he stops. "Gods..I should go though so you don't have to deal with me…you have to put up with enough disgusting things I shouldn't be one of them…" 

"You're not disgusting, and shutting yourself up in your room isn't going to help whatever storm is brewing in that head of yours…" Eskel murmurs as he places a warm paw over Jaskiers forehead. 

"Don't you know it's best to leave people to their misery…they're less of a problem to you if you do.." Jaskier sighs, hating how thick and wet his voice sounds. 

"...Isn't it technically part of my job description to help with people's misery..?" Eskel asks quietly. 

Jaskier let's out a small whimper and looks over his shoulder into those big sweet amber eyes. "Oh, sweet wolf that is so much different…You ease real world pain and actual problems..Yes you weather people's misery and help it go away, but that is not comparable to the miniscule problems of a snotty bard with a case of melancholy.." 

Eskel just tilts his head slightly before holding Jaskier close again. Gently rubbing along the bard's full stomach again to soothe him. "..Weathering a little melancholy sounds a lot nicer than fighting someone else's monster….I think this is a job I can handle, especially since everyone else has been so rude to you." 

"They haven't been rude…I've just been a nuisance." Jaskier sighs as he lets his head fall back on the pillow finally. 

"Oh no…they've been rude… I've been trying to get them to quit ribbing you but they're a little hopeless…you just need to bite back so they'll listen….but that can wait till you're feeling better." Eskel sighs. 

Jaskier's ability to come up with a counter faded with each rumbling word that vibrated in Eskel's chest. Those large warm hands once again threading through his hair, and spreading across his belly. It made his eyelids feel as heavy as his clogged head as he sank helplessly into the touch. 

"M..maybe…you can teach me how t' bite later.." He drawls sleepily with a heavy nasally tone. 

"Sure thing..but first some sleep." Eskel whispers before laying back down behind Jaskiers back. 

The last thing the bard recalls is a low rumbling hum, quiet, and subtle. But strong enough to sink a comfortable weight into his bones as he drifts deep into sleep.

[ficsnroses]

Pregnancy Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ may be read as a follow up to these.

warnings : pregnancy. smut. morning sickness mention. mega fluff.

words : 2.3k. requested by a lovely anon!

notes : remember ages ago when I said I’d whip these up? I did em! I couldn’t fit all my ideas. lemme know if you’d like to see another one of these with a similar concept. feedback appreciated as always! 

I love headcanons. so easy. so carefree. so much to say. don’t forget that you can request headcanons, too! not just full fics or drabbles.

A few weeks ago, John and you found out you were pregnant. Initially, it’s been slightly frightening to know that in a mere nine months or so, John and you will have a baby, a little human, who’s entire world you two will be, and they will be yours in return.

You’re more frightened, being the one carrying your child. You have your fears of not being good enough, or not knowing how to be the utmost perfect mother you can be to your baby.

John, however, is ecstatic. He’s frightened as well; he’s never done this before. Yet, he keeps it under wraps for you. For you, John always puts on a brave face and holds your hand each step of the way.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and well taken care of. So far, your belly isn’t even showing; but there is life inside. John has always treated you as a queen, but it has intensified tenfold after he got you pregnant.

Not a dish in the house is allowed to be washed by you, not a cloth may be touched. John wants to you relax and take it easy, focus on yourself. He truly believes that as long as you’re happy and healthy, the baby will be too.

John has always been an absolute sweetheart; nonetheless, since you’ve gotten pregnant, he’s only gotten lovelier. Many times, you fear you’re dreaming, and may wake up soon. John Wick is quite literally;

too good to be true.

Each morning, he’ll nuzzle into your chest, smiling a goofy grin.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers into your hair, peppering soft kisses to your temples and forehead. “And to you too, peanut.” He smiles, heavy hand rested to your growing tummy. John never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, and your baby. Despite them not even being here yet. He knows that this pregnancy will take a toll on you; he’d wish for more than anything that he could carry the pain instead of you, which is why he showers you with love. He’d never want you to forget how important you are; how much you mean. You’re his entire world and this means more to him than you can imagine.

Morning sickness has been tough. Often, you’ll wake up feeling nauseous, however, you feel secure knowing you have a team player on your side. Occasionally, in the middle of the night when you’re up at 3:00am feeling awful, John helps you out of bed, holding your hair up for you and rubbing small, soothing circles to your back in the washroom.

“I’m going to make you ginger tea, alright babe?” He quietly speaks, leaving a speckled kiss to your shoulder as you freshen up. You feel awful keeping him up this late, John always needs rest due to his gruesome job.

Foot rubs and massages get a lot more common as your tummy grows. John doesn’t mind, he enjoys the intimacy and being close to you.

Speaking of intimacy…

You continue having sex for as long as you can, because you both know that down the road, as your hormones continue to fluctuate and your belly grows, it may not be something you’ll be able to do often.

John and you do, and always have had sex often for as long as you’ve been together. It helps John ease down, calm his nerves and relieve tension. You don’t mind making love to him either, of course. You feel lucky to feel him so close, and to be the only women who feels him that way.

“Close your eyes, Squish,” John whispers a chuckle, a delicate kiss placed to your bare belly, just where your baby rests. His heavier hands gently peel off the fabric of your bottoms, full lips trailing lower, soft kisses pecked to your inner thighs as he nears your heat. “Daddy’s about to do some real nasty things to mommy.”

You’re not sure if its just your hormones, or delicate emotions as of late. Nonetheless, having sex with John has felt…closer since you got pregnant. It truly feels like you’re making the sweetest of love each and every time. He kisses you so sweet, works you so slow, so intimately, so tenderly, it brings tears to your eyes.

Having him inside feels unreal, divine. He only picks up pace nearing climax, his expertise, skill and unmatchable affection never failing to spill you over the edge so well.

As your belly grows bigger and bigger a few months in, going places, and moving is becoming increasingly tough. Grocery trips have become progressively more tiresome; car rides gradually more uncomfortable. John tries his hardest to help, and understands if you snap at him a little too quick or accidentally pick a fight over something minor.

“Can you turn the music down? Please?” You interrupt a serene drive home from the market, voice coaxed with irritation, laced aggravation tinted across all tones. John’s hand rests to your thigh as he drives, his other placed to the thin steering wheel. You’d been complaining about discomfort the entire morning; he felt awful knowing you were in any sort of pain.

“Sorry.” He sighs, hand shifting from your thigh to crank the stereo of his beloved Mustang 69’ down. Passing traffic winds roar outside, the New York buildings passing in towering lengths. John’s palm immedietly rests back to your thigh; smooth, gentle strokes ran across the fabric clad to your lap. His eyes stay focused to the road, yet his hand stays touching you, letting you know he’s there.

That he’ll always be there, no matter how frustrated you get, how intolerable your nagging becomes.

He loves you, and he loves his baby. He’s waited far too long to have this; normalcy, something his, something his own; something created out of love, familiarity. Something he’d lacked for far too long.

“Ugh.” You exhale, after a moment of stretched silence, hand coming up to rub your weary eyes. “I’m being awful, aren’t I?” You whisper, saddened eyes locking to your husband’s street bound orbs. He turns momentarily to lock eyes, a gentle smile your way.

“No, sweetheart.” He assures, grip on your thigh tightening. You groan, rebutting. “No, John. I am. I’m sorry.” You sigh, reaching both your hands down to your lap to engulf his, holding his hand in a soft grip. You rub the top of his palm, relaxing, playing with his sturdier fingers. “I love you. I really do.” Sincerely, your eyes stay focused to his well defined features, the dark beard that rides his cheek.

And to the sound of your guilty voice, John chuckles, securing your hand in his, before brining it up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I know.”

John has come to all your ultrasound appointments; he wouldn’t miss them for the world. He holds your hand the entire time, signature goofy smile daubed to his smoky features.

The first ultrasound was incredibly emotional, you shed a couple of tears. John and you stare at the screen, a pea sized dot resting in the darkened frame. John’s hand holds yours so tight, so warm, you’d felt as if you could feel him within you. Like he was this significant, big part of you that you would cherish forever. Seeing him smile that day will be a sight you’ll never forget; a mural you’ll never surrender.

Through out your time together, over the timeline of your love, you’ve only seen John this way a handful of times. This happiness was different; held something sole, matchless. This was pure happiness, where nothing else tinted the depths of his thoughts. No insecurities, no doubts, no ghosts of his past. Apart from the day you said yes to marrying him, and the day of your wedding, you don’t remember John ever being this unconditionally, purely, happy.

You both sit on the couch later that night, John’s arms holding you close as your head lays to his broad chest, staring, smiling at the picture of your dream; the one that would conquer your entire hearts when they’d come.

John keeps a copy of the ultrasound picture in his wallet. He takes a moment to look at it, to remember what he has any time he needs a pick me up throughout the day.

John takes amazing care of you, your needs always before his. He monitors your eating and drinking, to make sure you and the baby are healthy. He gives you your supplements; you often forget the times throughout the day you need to take them.

Speaking of food…

Midnight cravings have become a usual for you. Normally, you suffice for waddling down to the kitchen, sure not to disturb your snoozing husband.

Gently removing his arm from your waist, you always smile a gentle, loving glaze his way. John sleeping is a sight you’ve come to adore over the years.

John at peace; is a sight you’ve come to adore. He deserves rest, he deserves peace.

Although, its tough not to wake John. More often than not, he’ll find you in the kitchen in the AM dark, smiling a cheeky grin as you devour left over dinner, or a questionable choice of midnight snack.

He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms snoozily around your mid, hands placed to your tummy. With a gentle kiss to the back of your head and his warm chest pressed to your back, his sleep thick, honey seared voice rasps a tender baritone in your neck.

“Hungry?” He’ll chuckle, quiet and warm. You only nod, lacing your hand to his that rests on your belly.

Of course, there have been rare nights where you crave something that isn’t in the fridge. John never turns you down, however. No matter how tired, how sleepy he is, he ventures to your local 24-hour market, or gas station in search of whatever you’d yearned.

“Should I come with you?” You bite your lip, pulling the comforter of your shared bed higher up your chest as you sit up. “I’m sorry I’m making you go out.” You frown, insecure. “But I just can’t stop thinking about how I just need a candy bar right now.”

John’s brown leather jacket shrugs onto his shoulders, and his lips smile your way, picking his wallet up off the night stand.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be quick.” He whispers, a kiss to your forehead before he’s out the door, blinking away sleep dense orbs.

For you, he’d wake a thousand nights. A million slumbers may waste away.

Slowly, you build the nursery for your baby. John works away, painting once crisp white walls into something more pastel, something that would welcome your child with joyful colour.

John has definitely become more talkative over the pregnancy.

He never misses out on a chance to kiss your belly, or talk to them.

“I’ll be back soon.” He announces, car keys armed in his sturdy fingers. With a kiss to your lips, he smiles. “I love you, don’t forget it.”

“Hurry back please.” You frown, a light whine coated to your tone. John only nods, slightly dropping to his knee in front of you, a quick, brief kiss placed to your tummy. “Keep mommy company, squish.” He tells your belly, a quiet, barely audible ‘daddy loves you’ Fled into the air, before he’s up, his hold on your hand let go as you walk him to the door, wishing him a wonderful day with a final kiss to his cheek.

You shop for cribs, toys, decorations all together. John looks incredibly handsome building the crib, painting the walls, asking exactly where you wanted everything to be placed. You watch him from your rocking chair in the corner, a hand to your belly as you talk to John the entire time, about anything, and everything.

John is a wonderful listener. Together, you two often talk about your future. A future where you’ll move away somewhere out of town,

Somewhere closer to the water, down the road. Somewhere where John’s ghastly pasts wont haunt him no more; somewhere you’ll grow old together with a white picket fence, and a story.

Your story, that you’ll tell you grandkids someday, when you’re old and gray, slightly slower; but still, hopelessly in love.

John adores talking to the baby. On secluded, rainy evenings, or when the sun sets out the mauve horizon and the trees bid goodnight to cotton clouds, John and you lounge on the couch, a thick, heavy novel equipped in John’s palm as he reads to you, and your tummy.

With his head resting on your lap, you stroke his lengthy coffee mane, fully engaged, lost in his mélange voice; smoky and rich, beautifully saccharine. Your thumbs coax his tired temples; gently scratching his stubble ridden cheek when you please. Every now and then, John’s glowing eyes peer up, glossing over your features.

He looks lovely like this, at ease, immersed in art.

To you, he is the loveliest of art. He’s a story, he’s a piece of Neverland. He’s your love story, and it’s one,

for the ages;

your love is one for the ages.

Sometimes, he’ll fall asleep this way, head resting in your lap as you stroke his hair. Him and the baby rest together, so close to you.

This was what it meant to have true, wholesome, pure, purpose. To have security, to have something truly, only, yours.

They were yours.

Pregnancy would be tough. It would be a journey, things would change, you would change. But you weren’t scared, for a single moment.

Because you knew, that you had your dream, your mountain of a man beside you, holding your hand,

Each step,

Of the way.

And you knew, you knew well. That the day your baby comes, they will have the most amazing, wonderful father who loves them, and their mommy to the ends of the world, and back.

You’d felt love before, you’d had everything before.

But with this, with what you’ve made, with John; it falls incomparable.

He’s the love that made all the others,

Irrelevant.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

[acciofanfics]

Detention (Remus Lupin x Reader) Part 2 SMUT

Summary: After catching (Y/N) passing notes in his class, he has to give her detention. It goes... a little differently than planned? Read Part One Here.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, but let’s assume Lupin probably knows some protection spell), and teacher x student relationship.

Word Count: 1561

A/N: This is the second part of Detention. I’m still a little rusty on writing smut so bear with me! Requests are open still and I left this one kind of open ended so if anyone has an idea for a part 3, let us know! -S

———————————————————————-

Perhaps she was going deaf.... maybe she really was sick and hallucinations were part of whatever disease she had contracted? There was no way Professor Lupin was really saying that. Maybe he was testing her to see if she had learned her lesson and it was just a cruel joke. “Professor are you teasing me?”

Remus supposed he could see her confusion, it was probably only moments ago that he had tried to be honorable man, one that upheld the rules at Hogwarts, and it’d only taken a few words and pretty face to completely rid him of the facade. “I was under the impression that’s what you desired.” Remus was trying to keep his words open-ended, maybe she’d be the bigger person and walk away leaving him with just a shred of dignity.

That was asking entirely too much of (Y/N) and he should’ve known that. She studied harder in her DADA class than any other subject in her entire career at Hogwarts. She reveled anytime her praised her efforts and anytime there was instruction for actual application she needed help with wand movements. She had it bad for the Professor and she really believed it to be painfully obvious. So given the opportunity he shouldn’t have assumed she would do anything but literally jump out of her desk, “Yes sir!”

He couldn’t help but smirk a bit at her enthusiasm. Well if she wanted to be teased... “I have to say I was a disappointed in you today. You’re usually such a good girl, were you trying to get in trouble?”

“No, sir! It was an accident, I always try to be good for you.” (Y/N) would’ve thought she would’ve felt more embarrassed, but perhaps it was the fact that he had it in her writing what she wanted from him. No sense in denying it now.

“It was an accident that you wrote those things, huh? I don’t think I believe you, I think you wanted to get caught and so I would read that note of yours. Were you hoping that I read it and think about you all day?” Obviously he seriously doubted that, given the fact that the poor girl looked like she was about to vomit when he levitated the note to her him, but for the sake of their conversation he’d omit that detail for now.

“I’m sorry, Professor Lupin. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” She batted her eyelashes at the man. At first he didn’t speak, just motioned for her to approach him. He’d still been sitting at his desk when the exchange started, mostly because he hadn’t a clue that this would transpire. When she stood in front of him, Remus could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her.

He looked away for a moment to clear some of the blasted rolls of parchment off of his desk, “Sit.”

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate to follow instructions, she hopped up on the wooden surface, skirt hiked up just a bit. Remus stood up, settling himself between the young woman’s legs. His hands gripped the desk on either side of her, looking down he paused for a moment. There’d be no going back after this... he was weak.

If she hadn’t been sitting already, (Y/N) was sure she would’ve been on the floor. She practically melted into kiss. What started our slow and almost tentative quickly heated up, (Y/N)’s legs hooked around Remus’ and pulled him closer to her, and she held her self steady by grabbing hold of his coat. When Remus’ hands finally found her skin, she felt like she had been lit on fire. His fingertips slid under the hem of her skirt, digging in gently to the bare skin of her thighs and he smiled against her legs tightened around him.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a punishment.” Remus mumbled, reconnecting his lips to her neck after pushing her hair behind her shoulder.

A noise halfway between a moan and a giggle from his mustache tickling her skin escaped her throat. “I don’t know, mm, I think I’m learning my lesson.”

Remus chuckled at her words and the whimper she let out when he pulled away from her. It had grown at least 15 degrees hotter, or so it seemed to the man. He shoved off his jacket, he knew the classroom probably wasn’t the place to her fully undressed but he just couldn’t cope with the excessive article anymore. Remus supposed (Y/N) must’ve been feeling it to because he watched her shed her sweater and her fingers started popping open the buttons on shirt. He simply watched until it was completely open, and her breasts spilling over the top of a simple black bra. A bit of insecurity seemed to hinder her, (Y/N)’s fingers paused seeing Remus’ eyes on her do intensely.

Ah, he remembered how it felt to be so young and unsure of yourself. He pulled his wand and aimed it at the door, “Colloportus. Don’t want any interruptions, I feel like we’re making some real academic progress.” Remus offered a reassuring grin and helped (Y/N) out of her shirt. She reached behind her and clasped the bra and tentatively let the undergarment fall.

Remus got a good look before he captured the girl in another lip bruising kiss. Remus felt a bit like a young man again, as his hands moved against her skin. Every squeak or moan or whimper she let out was stifled by his mouth on hers, luckily too because Remus had only cast a locking charm not a silencing one. (Y/N) felt a sensory overload, her lips were moving but purely by instinct because her mind was too focused on his large hands, one of which was fondling her chest and the other slipping higher under her skirt. When his palm paused he broke away breathless to look at her. “No underwear?”

(Y/N) blushed, a little embarrassed by his findings. She shrugged with a cheeky smile, “You can’t blame a girl for trying?”

“Naughty. Naughty. Naughty.” Remus playfully scolded before resuming what he had been doing previously, his right hand traveled the rest of the way up. Her body involuntarily lurched forward when Remus sunk a sole finger into her core. Slowly pulling his pointer finger out most of the way and then teasingly pushing it back in, Remus ignited some sort of spark in (Y/N). She’d been unraveling the entire time with his touches and it was official she was undone. She sloppily laid kisses against his neck and hastily untucked his shirt, and when his thumb began to rub circles across her clit she began fumbling with his belt and the button on his trousers.

“Please Professor Lupin! I’ve learned my lesson..” (Y/N) begged against his skin. She was dismayed to have his hand withdrawn from her but let out a sigh of relief realizing it was just to oblige and free the erection he’d been willing himself to neglect so he could focus on her.

(Y/N) laid back on the desk so she attempt to remove the dreadfully annoying skirt with more ease. Instead Remus had other plans, he pulled the girl to the edge of the desk and threw her legs over his shoulders. He bunched the bothersome fabric around her waist and began rubbing the tip of his cock along her slick folds. The act was partially to tease, and partially to give her some time to back out; Remus was about to offer her a chance to take her leave and pretend the whole thing never happened, but he didn’t have a chance to come up with a complete thought in his head before she was begging again. “Please Professor...”

That was enough for him. Remus pushed himself inside of her and a low groan ripped through his throat. The thrusts started out intentional and with a set pace in mind but soon lost all sense of rhythm as both parties were just looking to extinguish the fire that was pooling within them. He was close. They both were. Remus let her left leg fall from his shoulder and used the opening to let his thumb go back to rubbing her. The same motion that drove her wild minutes ago was enough to be her undoing.

(Y/N) purred his name as her body found what it has been craving and Remus was pleased when he felt her muscles contract around him. A few more thrusts and he soon joined her in exhaustion as pleasure ripped through his body and he released himself inside of her.

There was approximately a minute of nothing but silence as the pair slowly came down from their high. More moments passed quietly as they both began to clean themselves up and straighten their clothes. (Y/N) was the first to speak up, “Professor Lupin?”

“Yes?” In typical hindsight fashion the guilt of sleeping with one of his students was beginning to set in. He hoped that she would perhaps say something that would allow him to respond with an apology and reassurance that it wouldn’t happen again.

“If passing notes gets me that, what might one have to do to her bent over your desk?” She grinned cheekily at the man.

Remus smirked, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

[mourntheantagonist]

I'm so sorry to hear that you're sick 💛 I hope things are as good as they can be for you. Take care of yourself 💛

And OH, Harringrove and the Party headcanons?

I love the idea of the Party playing D&D at Steve's (because he provides the best snacks and has a big TV they can watch later and a proper rec room and El and Max come round and go in the pool when they get bored instead of trying to drag the boys away BUT mostly because they love Steve!)

And anyway. Steve joins in sometimes, but only for causal games because he never really had the attention span for it, so mostly he and Billy just do their own thing. Cuddles on the sofa or cooking together or something like that.

Except one time.

When they're watching a movie and Billy's getting distracted by the argument the kids are having over their plan for the super important quest. And Steve wonders if he's getting upset by the raised voices (because Dustin and Mike especially have pretty heated arguments at times) but then Billy growls in annoyance and strides into the rec room.

And Steve panics, thinking he's angry at the kids for making so much noise.

But instead he sits down, calls their plan stupid, points out all the things they SHOULD do (which are all these things Will had been quietly suggesting but he'd been ignored) and basically shows a LOT of very detailed D&D knowledge.

He ends up getting totally drawn in to the game, and by the next campaign, Will's made him a whole character sheet with a lil illustration!

🍒

oh I adore this !! also thanks for sending this when I was sick 💙 I’m feeling a lot better now

also, preface: my knowledge of d&d is 🤏🏼 minuscule

they’d totally make the switch from mikes basement to steve’s house. their ever expanding party can no longer fit it the cooped up space under the wheeler house and there’s also the added benefit of being able to be loud and obnoxious and not have to worry about ted wheeler shutting it down. and steve house is just so much better for a good time. it’s like it was built for parties. the big new tv, the pool, ping pong and pool tables in the garage. they spend as much time there as possible. and yes of course, the main reason is they love steve!! steve is the only adult they can all stand to be around, despite will’s defense of jonathan, mike doesn’t see the enjoyment in spending time with his older sister’s boyfriend. just don’t remind him that steve is her ex.

steve pretends to be annoyed by it. greeting the party with a scoff whenever they show up to his house unannounced, but he truly did enjoy having them around, bringing life in the once dead and empty house.

steve typically watched them do their thing from afar, sometimes hang out with el when she didn’t feel like playing. they’d watch a new movie together that steve brought home from family video and snack on the wide variety of chips and crackers and dips that somehow were always stocked on his shelves. sure his parents weren’t home much, but they were sure to keep him well fed.

but other times, he’ll just be so intrigued in what they’re doing that he’ll join in on the fun. It’s not really his thing, however. he likes games that have a solid end and don’t go on for hours. that’s why you’ll never convince him to play monopoly. it also just requires too much focus and engagement for his liking, he prefers more mindless games. It’s sometimes still lonely for him even with his house full of teenagers, because he’s often listening to them scream from the rec room from the comfort of the couch in his living room. popcorn bowl in hand, watching back to the future for what seems to be the hundredth time.

that’s until he starts dating billy and soon there’s another frequent visitor to his house.

they tried to keep things between them on the downlow for a while. billy only coming over at night after all the kids had left to ensure no unannounced guests arrived. but the one time they decided to veer from that system was also the same time the whole party barged in through his front door and heard some... unsavory sounds coming from the top of the stairs. and there was no denying it at that point. billy’s camaro was parked out front and they’ve already scarred them for life.

it wasn’t necessarily surprising that they were all cool with it, but it was surprising when they constantly told steve he should invite billy over when they were all hanging out. he felt weird about it for a while, and so did billy. they never considered the idea they’d get to actually be with each other publicly or in the presence of others so it was a foreign idea for them. but one day billy decides to drive max directly to steve’s house instead of dropping her off at the wheeler’s. and he decides to stay, as if it wasn’t the plan all along.

it takes a couple of occasions for the two to progress from just sitting on the couch beside each other, to holding hands, to cuddling, all the way to kissing in front of the group. every time they made a little step forward in that arena it felt really good when the kids didn’t even bat an eye. except for kissing, but they would have that reaction no matter who they were. and the gagging noises it elicited made them only want to do it more.

billy never seemed to show much interest in the games from steve’s point of view, always seeming so content with just the two of them lying on the living room couch watching whatever movie he snagged that day.

but this time he looks pissed off. he’s got that same expression on his face when someone cuts him off or is going too slow in the passing lane. the kids are being a little rowdy, he’ll admit that, but it’s not more than usual. but maybe this was billy’s last straw.

when billy gets up from the couch, steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried for what he might do. but he was also just as scared of standing in his way because that man walked like he was on a goddamn mission.

billy gently pushes dustin out of his chair and takes a seat, earning a confused ‘what the fuck dude?’ out of him.

and he basically calls them all a bunch of idiots and tells them what they should be doing. and they all want to argue with him (except for will obviously) because billy doesn’t know anything about d&d!! except what he says makes perfect sense and they can’t argue with him if they wanted to.

and then he doesn’t leave where he’s sitting at the table. excuses it as him needing to be there to keep them from arguing. except the reason he stays is because he likes it. brings him back to the days when he was around their age playing the same game in the basement of his own friends house.

and eventually he does start joining in on future campaigns. by now he’s got his own character and everyone is always talking about how it’s great having a barbarian in the group because “steve made a terrible barbarian”. that would always come with a loud “hey!” from the other room, because they always said it loud enough to hear.

at first steve thought he’d be upset that billy started playing with the kids and not spending the time with him, but he just loved watching billy get along with everyone. it made it worth it to see billy so loose and free like that, and it wasn’t like billy didn’t make time for him afterwards...

[artificialqueens]

By Your Side (Biadore) - Candy Cane

A/N: just a oneshot based off of a prompt sent in that asked for bianca finding out abt adore’s onlyfans! its not quite that tbh but the words take me where they want to go lol please enjoy!! <3 theres some other things ive been trying to work on but its slow going rn as my cat is very sick and a lot of my time and energy has been dedicated to him, but i hope to get more out soon!

It’s only been a few months into quarantine when Adore finds herself on the phone with one of her oldest friends. Like, old physically not old as in how long they’ve known each other. But to be fair, there aren’t a ton of people she’s been friends with longer than she’s been friends with Bianca. Courtney and Darienne too for that matter.

She loves Bianca. Their friendship is something precious to her, and surprisingly this is only the second phone call they’ve had since quarantine has started. They talk basically every day through texts, and that’s on top of the hours they spend going back and forth in the ABCD group chat with Courtney and Darienne. The four of them have something special, all of them realize that. There’s just something specifically between her and Bianca that Adore’s never really been able to place her finger on.

Out of the blue this morning Bianca simply… called her. Adore spends a full moment staring at the CallerID trying to figure out where the fuck this is coming from. With an uncertain frown, she answers the phone, hanging upside down off the side of her bed of course.

“So… OnlyFans? Seriously?” Bianca asks incredulously, her voice crackling over the phone speaker.

What a way to start a conversation after not hearing each other’s voices for like a month! Even though Adore can’t see her face, she can practically hear the raised eyebrow.

“Fuck you,” Adore laughs, unable to help smiling at Bianca’s playful accusations.

“Not that I’m mad, but why fucking OnlyFans? Aren’t bitches doing podcasts now?”

“I’m bored, okay? There’s not a lot to do but drink and masturbate, and drinking hasn’t really been doing it for me lately. Plus, I gotta make money somehow,” Adore grumbles through an explanation, lifting herself up and sprawling out on her bed awkwardly.

“Do I need to set up an intervention? You know I will,” Bianca says with faux seriousness, “Seriously though, if you need some help…”

Adore frowns down at her phone. She hates pity, she hates unnecessary worry, and she definitely hates burdening people with her bullshit.

“B, I’m fine, I promise,” she says earnestly, “I guess I just… I miss you. A lot. And we can’t see each other right now and it fucking sucks and I’m really lonely-”

“Come over.”

“What? I can’t, B, we’re quarantined…”

“When’s the last time you left your apartment?”

“Uhh, I dunno, maybe a month ago?’ Adore answers, unsure of where Bianca is going with this.

“Okay, that’s well over two weeks. Come hang out with me for a few days, get some human interaction, I’ve been needing it myself. I haven’t gone out or seen anyone for a few weeks now,” Bianca admits, and Adore feels suddenly giddy.

It’s been so long since she’s seen someone, since she’s even gotten a hug, and she really wants to see Bianca…

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Adore agrees, not even thinking twice about it.

Bianca is everything to her. This person was one of the first to really take her seriously, to really see something in her, and Adore doesn’t know where she’d be without her. Every time something goes wrong, her first instinct is to call Bianca. Everytime something amazing happens, her first instinct is to call Bianca. They’ll spend hours talking or texting just because and Adore wouldn’t have it any other way.

They are as good together as PB&J, or peanut butter and celery, or peanut butter and pretzels… And Adore realizes she is feeling very snacky, specifically for peanut butter. With a sigh she rolls off her bed to get a snack before she starts packing for the next week.

The point is Adore loves Bianca, and Danny loves Roy. Sure maybe it’s in a different way than they should, or even once did, but it can’t be helped. It can be hidden, though. And Danny is more than fine with hiding this secret, as long as they get to have Roy in their life at all. He’s more than what Danny should ever even hope for, and yet a part of them can’t help but hope.

After spending so much time apart, Danny knows it’ll be harder now than ever to hide these feelings they’ve been harboring for Roy. They’ll try though, because sometimes the thought of this man loving them back is all that keeps them going.

Danny arrives at Roy’s beautiful new house in Palm Springs at nearly noon the next day. Which, to be fair, is very much the morning for Danny. They even woke up early to make the trip! …If ten a.m. counts as early in any book except their own.

Roy is already standing out in the driveway waiting for Danny when they get there, his arms spread wide for a hug the second Danny gets out of their car. The younger practically rocket launches themself into his arms, clinging tight to him as they savor the first hug they’ve gotten in such a long fucking time. Danny can’t help the tears that fall at finally having such warm, loving human contact, especially from this person.

They hold onto each other as tight as they can, each beyond glad to have each other’s trust in such unreliable times. Being alone for so long had hit Roy hard too. Alcohol and binge watching can really only do so much, and he’s genuinely been feeling lonely being stuck in one spot for so long. The dogs help some, but at the end of the day it really doesn’t replace human interaction, no matter how hard he wishes it did.

“I missed you, baby girl,” Roy says, and Danny can almost hear his voice waver.

“I missed you too,” Danny whispers, trying and failing to hold back a sob.

They leave Danny’s bag in the car for now, much more eager to go sit down and enjoy each other’s company. The dogs bombard the two of them the second Danny crosses the threshold, the enby leaning instantly down to kiss and coo at the babies and Roy can’t help grinning widely at the sight. He loves his babies, and he loves his baby girl.

They spend the afternoon talking and laughing and playing with the dogs. Danny clearly gets some ideas about the golf cart, and Roy is suddenly excited about the upcoming few days. It’s been a while since either of them have really had something to look forward to.

“Alright, I still need you to explain this OnlyFans thing to me,” Roy says with a smirk a few hours later, after they’ve gotten properly settled in on the couch together with the dogs.

Danny’s eyes go wide with slight panic, “Okay, grandpa, it’s like uhhh, Patreon but-”

“No, no, no!” Roy laughs, “I know what it is, I mean why that? Why not literally anything else?”

“First of all, I am sexy. Second of all, I spent a lot of time not making money masturbating, which is a fucking shame because as I said before I am sexy.”

They both crack up at that, giggling like idiots on Roy’s couch, the puppies quickly joining in, yipping at them to be a part of the excitement.

“Awww, do you two think I’m funny?” Danny coos, picking Dede up and cuddling the pup close, “Your daddy doesn’t think I’m funny!”

Roy snorts, “You’ve certainly picked up a thing or two from me.”

“Like how to be a bitter old hermit!” Danny grins sweetly.

“Exactly,” Roy laughs.

“So if I ask really nicely will this bitter old hermit make me food?” Danny asks, batting their eyelashes pleadingly.

“My original plan was to let you starve to death while you were here, but since you’re asking nicely…” Roy says teasingly, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the way the younger throws their head back with laughter.

Late that night, after a long night of talking and watching TV and a decent dinner, they curl up into bed together. At one point they both needed to at least be tipsy to do that, but nowadays that’s just overkill. They have progressed well beyond that point of friendship, though Roy sometimes still likes to put on a show of being annoyed, if only because of the way Danny pouts and rolls their eyes.

Tonight he just holds the thick comforter up so Danny can slide in easily with him, he’s not really interested in making either of them wait longer than they already have for cuddles. In seconds the two are holding each other tight, savoring the touch. As Roy lays there, holding Danny like the younger is his lifeline, he starts to think about the time they’ve known each other. All the ups, downs, and side-to-sides… Danny has grown up a lot over the years they’ve been friends, and it’s hard to deny that it’s changed Roy’s feelings for them.

Once his feelings to the younger were almost motherly, but now it’s closer to attraction. It’s kind of weird, at the least it’s very fucked up. Roy wants to just give in to the feelings, but he can’t. Not when he has no way of gaging Danny’s feelings for him. He can live with this secret, he’s not sure he can live without Danny’s friendship.

Danny interrupts his thoughts, their voice small and curious, “Why were you so invested in my OnlyFans?”

“Bitch, I’m trying to sleep here,” Roy groans.

“No, seriously,” Danny pouts, sitting up in bed and looking down at Roy. The moonlight streaming in from the window highlights the enby perfectly, and Roy curses his luck.

“I don’t want you renting yourself out on the corner like Bunny, now get back to sleep you dumb slut,” Roy says with all of his usual teasing heat.

Danny pouts though, clearly not satisfied, “But…”

“Sleep. Now.” Roy demands, reaching up to tug them back under the covers. Danny reluctantly gives in, and snuggles close to Roy.

Just as Roy is about to fall asleep, Danny’s voice has his eyes flying open.

“Roy?”

“What?”

“I love you,” Danny whispers.

Roy’s heart melts a little at that, “I love you too, Danny.”

Danny bites their lip nervously, “I mean like… I think…”

Roy’s heart starts to beat faster in his chest. Surely they couldn’t mean…

“You think…?” Roy asks, hoping that despite it all this person is about to say what he thinks they are.

“I think I might be… in love,” Danny says, their voice quiet and timid in a way Roy hasn’t heard in a very long time, “With you.”

This time Roy is the one to sit up in bed, staring down at Danny with pure infatuation. Those words echo around his ears, his chest, his very soul, and before he even realizes what he’s doing he’s leaning down to capture Danny’s lips in a kiss.

His lips against theirs feels so undeniably right. Their lips move slowly against each other, Danny brings a hand around to cup the back of Roy’s neck and in that moment nothing is wrong in their own little world. In that moment it’s just them and the moonlight. He thinks that he could live forever in this moment and never need anything else.

They break apart much too soon for either of their tastes, and Roy stares into those pretty eyes and murmurs, “I think I love you too.”

Danny surges forward for another kiss, this one much more desperate than the last. It’s a hot, heavy kiss that ends with Roy flat against the bed and both of Danny’s hands cupping his face as they explore each other. It’s like no kiss either of them have had before, with so many years of emotion and uncertainty between them it’s intense. Bianca and Adore have drunkenly kissed before, but this absolutely cannot compare. Danny whimpers pathetically against Roy, their hips grinding down against Roy’s thigh.

Roy lets out a shaky breath and grips at the enby’s barely covered ass. From the way Danny is squirming and moaning after only a little contact, Roy knows it’s been a while since Danny has been with someone like this. Roy hasn’t been able to get laid in a while either, rendering them both more than eager for this. Neither of them have a sexual partner in their circles right now, except maybe each other. Just this morning that would’ve been an absurd thought, and now it’s simply what makes sense.

Both of them need sexual fulfillment as much as they need emotional fulfillment, and even the thought of providing it for each other is thrilling. Roy grabs Danny’s bottom lip roughly between his teeth, sucking on it as he rubs his hands underneath Danny’s oversized tank top and over their skin. Danny whines and whimpers so deliciously in response, and Roy loves it.

Roy and Danny pull the little clothing that is off one another, each soaking in the familiar sight of the other being completely exposed. It’s nowhere near the first time they’ve seen each other like this, but it’s another one of those things where it’s simply different this time around. Because now it’s been established they love each other as much more than just friends.

Danny sucks hickeys along Roy’s collarbone, moaning roughly as Roy twists their nipples harshly, their bodies so close and warm wrapped up tight together.

“Think… Think I’m gonna get my nipples pierced,” Danny giggles breathlessly before it’s cut off in a moan of sheer pleasure when Roy pinches them even harder.

“Oh really? You’ve done a lot of slutty things, baby girl, but that is definitely up there,” Roy smirks.

Danny smiles innocently, “It would only make your job easier.”

“What? This job?” Roy asks teasingly, then trails his fingers down Danny’s stomach so they ghost over the enby’s half-hard cock.

Danny gasps, and Roy takes the opportunity to press his lips against theirs all over again, sucking their tongue into his mouth as he teases their cock. They moan and whine and squirm, their fingers gripping and squeezing at the flesh of Roy’s back frantically in response. Roy knows that that’s going to leave a mark, despite the fact that their nails are usually kept short. He doesn’t mind though, in fact it makes him harder knowing that he’s the reason Danny is reacting like this.

Danny’s head falls back against the pillow, feeling heat rush to their cheeks upon seeing the smouldering look in Roy’s eyes as they stare up at him. He’s so fucking gorgeous, all his sharpness and softness in just the right places.

“Tell me what you want,” Roy whispers roughly.

Danny inhales shakily, “Want- Wanna feel you-”

“What do you want me to do to you, Danny? Use your words…”

“Fuck me, oh God please just fuck me, holy shit,” Danny begs, squeezing their eyes shut tight and squirming underneath Roy’s tight hold.

“Shh, that’s so good, thank you,” Roy murmurs, caressing Danny’s cheek, “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

And Danny just moans. They’ve wanted this from Roy for so long, and so many years were wasted convincing themself otherwise that this really feels like a fucking dream come true. It’s their own little fairytale, just for the two of them. Danny gets to live this fantasy with Roy, and that thought alone is almost more mind blowing than the idea of getting rammed until they can’t remember their own name.

Roy leans across to riffle through the nightstand, and turns back to Danny with lube, a condom, and a devious grin on his face. Minutes later, Danny is a whimpering, begging mess just from two of Roy’s fingers stretching them open. Roy is clearly enjoying it, whispering dirty things in their ear as he slowly tortures them with his fingers. When he slides in a third finger, Danny lets out the filthiest, most inhuman sound Roy has ever heard.

“You are just so fucking needy,” Roy says lowly, pulling out his fingers and quickly rolling the condom on.

Danny nods feverently, their eager words of agreement being almost incomprehensible. Roy grabs their tiny hips in his large hands and slides himself in. That moment is almost pure magic, the connection that had been simmering for so many years finally coming to a boil. Danny sobs from the mix of emotion and sheer pleasure, throwing their head back and forth, panting and begging for more while Roy closes his eyes and takes it all in.

Danny is incredibly warm and tight around him, and after a minute he begins to thrust shallowly, making Danny’s mindless babbling slur together. His thrusts quickly become harsher, aiming specifically for Danny’s spot, his grip on them tightens and he grabs the enby’s cock and starts to lavish it with some much needed attention.

“OhGodohGodohGodoh-” Danny rambles, pressing their face into the juncture of Roy’s neck and collarbone, inhaling his comforting, familiar scent, “So good, feels so good, don’t stop please don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to stop, shh, I’ve got you, fuck you’re so good,” Roy groans in response, his thrusts speeding up and his fingers around Danny’s cock tightening, “Are you about to cum for me? Huh?”

“Yes, fuck,” Danny rasps, “Yes yes gonna cum Roy please let me cum I’m gonna- gonna-”

Roy pumps his hand a few more times and whispers right in Danny’s ear, “Cum for me like a good girl.”

And Danny is a gonner. They moan high and long, their hips twitch rapidly and their whole body shakes with the force of their orgasm, ropes of cum covering Roy’s hand and both of their abdomens.

Danny practically goes limp in Roy’s hold, and just a few thrusts later Roy is undone as well, unable to help thrusting even harder and deeper into Danny’s body as he does. He falls on top of Danny, breathing heavy and ragged, and they hold each other tight. Danny’s arms still wrapped around Roy’s back when he carefully rolls them onto their sides so that they’re facing each other, nearly nose to nose. He gingerly pulls out of Danny, ties the condom, and throws it into the bin that he knows is next to the bed.

Roy cups their chin with his clean hand and stares into their dazed, half-lidded eyes. Danny blinks slowly, the afterglow beginning to wear off.

“I can’t believe it took us seven years,” Danny murmurs, reaching up to thread their fingers through Roy’s currently long hair.

“It was worth the wait,” Roy smiles softly, “And now we have the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah,” Danny whispers, “I get the rest of my life with you.”

Because for Roy and Danny it’s nowhere near over. For them it’s all only just begun.

[bracefacefreak]

So I just finished the first fic I have written in AGES and the first thing I’ve ever written for TMA, so I thought I’d post it here. 

It’s an alternate take on S3 from about MAG 98 in which Nikola kidnaps Martin, not Jon. Basically very angsty with some realisation of feelings and implied canon-typical violence because I like to make my boys suffer apparently. May write more if I feel like it but for now this is just a peek at my idea. 

CW: implied violence, knife violence, strongly implied graphic violence, implied blood, implied skinning, captivity and kidnapping, restraints, stalking. 

I cut you a piece of me 

also available on ao3 

“Martin? Tim?”

Jon pokes his head out of his office, tired eyes squinting through murky lenses to try and make out anything moving amongst the shelves and teetering boxes. A chill creeps up his spine, the sensation akin to the slow tickle of spider’s legs over his skin. It makes his stomach turn; the sour taste of bile rises at the back of his throat. A light flickers somewhere on the other side of the archives. It is brief, likely nothing more than some dodgy wiring - or a plastic body passing in front of a bulb. Jon bites down, catching his tongue between his teeth.

His fingers twist in the wool of the cardigan he wears, tugging at the well-worn fibres as if they are some sort of lifeline. The garment is too big on him, the fabric spilling over his shoulders and bunching in thick folds around his wrists. He had found it shoved under a shelving unit in document storage, the crumpled, butter-yellow lump too inviting to ignore. It has quickly become a comfort for him during long nights in his office poring over statements, something soft and warm to counteract the increasingly dark world he finds himself inhabiting. He pulls it tight around him, but finds today it offers little more than a thin veneer of safety.

CLUNK.

He starts.

His eyes flick towards the stacks to his left, scouring the shadows that rest heavily between the shelves. The noise comes again, more drawn out this time and followed by a series of metallic taps. It doesn’t take much imagination to hear the snap of huge, mechanical jaws in the rhythmic sound.

Jon swallows thickly.

“Martin? I-is that you?”

The hollow clang comes again; this time Jon is able to trace it to somewhere above. Lifting his eyes, he half-expects to see a grinning plastic face staring down at him from the highest shelves. Instead, he is met by the sight of decrepit pipes, quivering slightly as the ancient heating system struggles against the pervasive chill. His shoulders droop as the pipes rattle in reassurance.

Slowly, he turns back to the original source of his suspicion, staring down the narrow walkway that leads to the assistant’s office and break-room.

Beneath the occasional clang of the heating, the archive is silent, still.

But he could have sworn he’d heard footsteps earlier: the soft shuffle of shoes over carpet and the squeak of the bottom stair that no-one seems bothered enough to fix, despite the numerous emails Jon has sent to maintenance. He had been recording a statement, one from the early 2000s about disappearances from a travelling funhouse, when he had heard it. He was certain. But then again…He takes a shaking breath; could this just be his rearing its ugly head?

No.

NO.

He was over that.

He knew what he had heard. Jon squares his shoulders, knowing that his small stature and bright yellow cardigan will hardly strike fear into the heart of any evil creature that has managed to get into the Institute. He pulls the pen out of his hair anyway. It will not be much use if it comes to a struggle, but it is better than nothing.

Measured steps lead Jon across the archive floor.

He calls out in a tight voice, rising to shrill at the end.

“Melanie?”

His pulse thuds in his ears.

“Tim? Basira?"

Sweat coats his palms and pools in the well of his clavicle, turning cold and tacky.

“Martin?”

He rounds a corner and is greeted by three empty desks.

Since arriving, Melanie has settled at Sasha’s old desk; it no longer bears its previous look of organised chaos but is strewn with shredded paper, a few crumpled fast-food wrappers, and pages covered in black scribbles that are indecipherable to Jon. It sends a pang of grief through him that echoes around the empty space where Sasha’s memory should be.

Tim’s desk is clear, no work having been done there in months.

And Martin’s is….

Jon frowns.

Next to an empty mug and a collection of pastel fine-liners Martin sometimes uses to make notes, is a cassette tape. It is unmarked, the brand different from any he has seen before in the archive. Jon reaches for it, hesitates, and then snatches it up. He turns it over in his hands, the shape and weight familiar. Something is building beneath his skin, fizzing, crackling, a flurry of static that rises and rises the longer he holds the tape. It calls to him. The white noise is a siren song drawing him in until he is moving towards his office and the tape recorder he keeps on his desk. His hands shake as he pushes the tape into place and snaps the recorder shut. For a moment the world narrows down to the feeling of the play button beneath his finger, its weight as he presses down, the soft whir-like a sigh-as the tape begins to play.

“Hello, my dear archivist.”

The saccharine voice that spews from the tape washes away the frantic desperation that had sent him scurrying to his office like a starving dog. He shivers, the memory of hard plastic hands around his throat making it hard to breathe.

The Eye drinks in this flash of terror, consuming it with abandon.

“It’s so luvely to be able to talk again. I was hoping to see you in person but ….I’m sure we’ll get to that later.”

There’s a tinkling laugh; the sound of fairground chimes, or blood dripping on porcelain.

“I thought now would be a good time to check in about that old skin you’re supposed to be getting for us. Not that I really need to. I am having you followed. It’s not because I don’t trust you but…well, I don’t trust you and I want to be sure that when you find it you don’t do anything silly. It is very powerful after all. I have to say, little archivist, I’m mighty….disappointed….by your lack of progress. It’s been a week now and nothing and I am on a bit of a deadline, you know. The world won’t dance itself new on its own.”

Nikola stops with a breathy gasp.

Jon waits, fingers clenched in the sleeves of his too-big cardigan.

He can make out the creak of plastic, followed by what sounds like a heavy door being opened. He leans in, straining to hear the dull thud of feet on stone. The jaunty melody of carousel music lingers in the background, ever-present and just flat enough to set his teeth on edge.

“Unfortunately for you, that means I need to up the stakes a little. We can’t have you getting complacent, that just won’t do.”

Another grating sound, metal against concrete and then a jumble of muffled grunts, almost as if someone is trying to speak against restraints.

“Do try and keep him quiet.”

Nikola hisses to someone whose response Jon cannot hear.

Something coils in his gut, cold and heavy.

“He spotted one of us outside the Institute one evening, tried to follow us. A rather stupid move if you ask me. You may want to rethink your hiring strategy.”

The mumbling intensifies.

Jon feels sick. His stomach churns, a deep sense that something is very wrong knotting up his insides.

“He seems awfully fond of you, I must say, putting himself in all that danger to try and keep you safe. What on earth did you ever do to deserve such devotion, little archivist?”

He shakes his head, trying to speak around the hard lump in his throat even though he knows Nikola can not hear him.

“P-pl…”

“Would you like to say hello?”

There is a painful ripping sound, then a scraping and a few ragged breaths.

The cold dread in Jon’s gut begins to unfurl, spreading out, freezing him to his chair.

“Jon?”

His heart stutters.

“Jon, p-please….please…d-don’t…”

Martin’s familiar voice, shaking and edged with panic, erupts from the speaker like a scream.

The copper tang of blood spills over his tongue. He looks down, realising he’s been biting his knuckle so hard his skin has split. Even as he watches the blood pool and trickle down his fingers, he feels no pain.

Nikola laughs again, something knife-sharp behind the sweetness.

Jon is cold, so cold, even beneath his tea-scented cardigan. His hands are like ice as he claws at the tape recorder, smearing blood over the plastic casing. He is not sure what he’s trying to do, his thoughts too muddled. He thinks he may be trying to reach through to wherever they are, to wherever Martin is.

“You see archivist, now we have some collateral. So, if you don’t manage to find that ancient relic, well….shall we have a demonstration?”

A strangled whimper is all Jon can manage as he listens to the squeak of plastic fingers, the tearing of fabric, the clear zhing of a blade. His eyes lock onto the tape recorder, transfixed with horror as he hears Martin grunt and then…..

Jon has never heard screaming like that before.

It cuts through him, reverberating down to his bones and settling in his marrow, so deep he will never be rid of it.

At the same time, it drowns him. Each new cry washes over him, relentless, never giving him time to breathe. He is suffocating beneath the sound, helpless and guilt-ridden, hands twitching as if trying to pull himself up for air. He can’t think, can’t speak, can’t breathe – chest too tight, pulse racing. His vision swims, blackness creeping in from the edges as Martin screams and screams and screams.

Jon squeezes his eyes shut, cold tears spilling down his cheeks. He presses his hands over his ears, but no matter how hard he tries he cannot escape it.

It feels like a lifetime before the screaming begins to quiet and an eternity until Nikola speaks again, high and airy.

“Impressive. That was even through a gag. What fun we’re going to have!”

A sob fills the silence, faint and broken. Jon matches it with his own.

Somewhere the Eye swells and glows in gluttonous satisfaction. Jon can feel it preening, brimming over with stolen terror. He shoves it away in disgust.

“Lucky for us there’s plenty of him to use.”

Something slaps wetly. There’s a squelch, like fingers being shoved into dough.

Jon retches.

“This will make a luvely pair of gloves, don’t you think?”

He doubles over, heaving dryly into his wastepaper bin, for once glad he didn’t have lunch. Sweat beads at his hairline, spots dancing in front of his eyes as he gasps around the convulsions of his nauseated body.

“Now now archivist, no point getting upset. The sooner you find us the gorilla skin the more of your assistant there will be left. I wouldn’t wait too long if I were you. Goodbye.”

The voice fades, leaving only panting breaths and pained groans before the recording ends with an abrupt click.

Jon lets it run on while he struggles to find a rhythm to his breathing. The background whir is a comfort, something to dampen the horrific shrieking that still rings in his ears.

Guilt sits heavy on his shoulders, a deadweight. First Sasha and now Martin. How many more people will he fail before the end? Who else will have to suffer because of him? He curls himself up in his chair and tries to consider what he should do, but his thoughts either will not come or fly past too fast to crystalise into an actual plan. Eventually, he gives in to the lingering heaviness of his limbs and the hollowness in his chest and he cries.

---

He isn’t sure how long he sits there.

The tape finally finishes and cuts off with a burst of static and the pop of the play button.

He is sat in silence when Basira finds him, folded up and trying to ignore the screams in his head. Her firm footsteps alert Jon to her presence as he can barely see out of his tear-swollen eyes. Her breathing pauses as she takes a moment to assess the situation.

Jon can picture the scene clearly: he sits, knees to his chest, hands tangled in his greying hair. The tape recorder perches haphazardly on the edge of his desk, smeared with blood that has dried a rich, rust colour. There are gouges in the surface of his desk and matching splinters beneath his fingernails.

“Jon?”

He thrusts out an arm, knocking Basira’s hand out of the way. The tape recorder falls to the floor with a crack, the cassette flies out, magnetic tape spooling on the floor. He stares at it for a moment. At least now she cannot….will not….and he does not have to either.

“Jon!?”

Her voice is clipped, hard. There is no room for argument or bullshit, no hint of concern. He would expect nothing less of Basira, and he has always respected her bluntness and the ability to bury her emotions so she can get the job done. As much as he would like to believe he can do the same, he knows it is a lie. Today has just proven that.

“Jon!?”

He opens his mouth to answer but only manages a strangled whine, which devolves into a sob. He takes a shuddering breath before trying again.

“M-“

It hurts. His throat is raw, almost as if he has been the one screaming. He is not entirely sure he hasn’t been. No one would have heard him all the way down here. He thinks Elias meant for it to be that way.

“Ma-“

The name sticks in his throat, coats his tongue with a sour taste, and lodges itself behind his teeth. He can not say it….does not deserve to say it…Nikola’s words repeat in his head, over and over.

What on earth did you ever do to deserve such devotion?

Jon thinks of all the times he has berated Martin, the mornings he has purposefully left his tea undrunk just to spite him, the cold manner he has used to decline every offer of help or comfort. And still, Martin had smiled, had rinsed out his mug and stubbornly left another on his desk made to his exact taste, had even pushed himself to research the Vittery case, almost risking his life just to try and get a good word out of his boss.

Martin, who writes poetry that overflows with tender melancholy. Martin, who had stayed up into the early hours with Jon while he had been staying in the archives, somehow aware that Jon was alone and afraid. Martin, who had persuaded the ECDC to hand over a jar of Prentiss’ ashes so he would feel safe. Martin, who had made it his mission to ensure Jon got at least one hot meal a day. Martin, who had lied on his CV to help his ailing mum. Martin, with his mop of curls and goofy smile and stupid hipster glasses and…oh…Martin....

Jon buries his nose into the yellow wool at his shoulder, inhaling the faded scent of Early Grey and spearmint toothpaste and lavender laundry detergent. It only leaves him feeling emptier.

Nothing, he wants to shout in reply to Nikola’s question, less than nothing!

“JON! What's going on?”

He sniffs, lifting his eyes to stare blankly down at the ruined tape recorder.

Basira’s gaze flicks to the device, before landing back on Jon.

He shivers, licking his parched lips and forcing the words out, voice cracked and tight.

“M-Martin….I-I need to f-find Martin.”

[sly-merlin]

killing me - 8

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : cursing and mention of a knife.

words :: abt 7k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

 or              

                      “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​ @suhweo​ @exfolitae​ @minejungwoo @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​

@kafenetwork​​ @neowritingsnet​​

K.M masterlist

K.M 7   next

Loneliness. The sentiment long forgotten was kindled again. you were so sure that you were just numb to it by now, had hoped that you won’t be affected by that ever again but the compass was directing to all the wrong sides. To experience what you first did 20 years ago was not something you were ready for but given a thought, it would never be.

This could be counted as your longest ride to the university. You felt sick to your stomach but there was no other place for you to go, no person either. It was in the heat of the moment, you realised that you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You needed someone as a confidant. You closed your eyes, sitting in the bus, recalling everyone but came out blank. Not that you lacked reliable company but there was more than one valid ground to oust the thought of it.

With a head full of trouble, as you entered the university, wonwoo messaged you to meet up. For him, your class was still in progress so you decided to consider the offer.

You and wonwoo were friends or fwb to be precise, with a strong year history. However, that couldn’t eliminate the significance of the word friend. You could always rely on him, he himself had affirmed that occasionally, your trust in him being the foundation brick of the relationship. Maybe he could offer you the consolation you craved right now or maybe his embrace would make you forget it completely.

**************

You stumbled as a tap on the shoulder startled you, but it was only wonwoo.

“Finally! Don’t you miss me even a tiny bit!” he announced while hugging you tightly. “Let’s sit on the bench.”

He took off your bag, working on loosening the straps that were already annoying him.

“how many times do I have to tell you! Wear the bag on one side , don’t tighten them or better,just quit wearing these tops baby” he nagged , looking at you but your eyes were fixated on the trees ahead. the uncertain look on your bare face was making him a bit uneasy. In addition, you did not throw killer eyes at him for calling you baby. And you looked sober. Something was definitely off.

“What’s wrong y/n. you look tired. I mean you are a forever grandma but seriously! Tell me what’s bothering you?” hearing the sincerity in his voice, you faced him, his signature honest smile releasing the tension in your body.

Facing him properly, you put the bag behind you. He was still grinning stupidly. You briefly glanced at him, brain continuously yelling to fuck taeyong’s deal and just tell him everything. Nothing was holding you back now.

Before you could utter anything, the layer of leaves on wonwoo’s head drew your attention. You reached out to remove them, but he caught your hand midway. His hand covered yours entirely as he started placing little kisses on the inside, lips travelling from the palms to the fingers and there he stopped abruptly, a squeal left his mouth at the metal touch.

“A ring. Wow. So, the great y/n knows that the shoes aren’t the only thing available in shops!” he exclaimed, chuckling loudly.

You tried to pull your hand but he did not let go. He observed it closely with a frown settling upon the previous happy face. You yanked your hand again forcibly, this time he complied.

“I have something to tell you.” You mumbled softly.

“it’s a diamond y/n.” his statement took you off guard.

“I have something important to discuss woo.”

“ it’s a diamond ring y/n!” he repeated with a lot more emphasis, voice still polite. But you got exactly what he was hinting at.

“would you hear me out. Please!” instead of denying, you tried to negotiate.

“no. first answer me. From whom did you accept it? Yugyeom? Jungkook? Minnie?”

You were left stunned at his sudden accusatory tone.

“fucking do me a favour and shut up for a sec woo!” this time your words were laced with frustration.

“oh wow” he scoffed before continuing, “ what are you here for! To inform me that you have finally found someone to settle down!”

“what! No! Why are you dramatizing so much over a bloody ring! I need you to use your ears and not mouth! For once please.” Your anger got the best of you as you yelled at him. He stood up, shielding you from the sunrays.

“you can’t possibly explain anything! I just don’t wanna talk right now.” And with that he walked away before you could give him the justification he deserved.

********************

you woke up around 1 p.m. in the library, exactly same place where you decided to sleep away your troubles, like always. After stretching your arms, you activated the phone which has been switched off earlier. As you watched the screen coming alive, wonwoo’s conversation made way to your now empty head. You weren’t so sure anymore that he could be trusted with any restrictive information. If you expose him to all what has happened, you’d be doing more harm than good. Love makes one foolish. And you’d rather die by blocking yourself than have him face the outcome.

Did that mean you loved him?

no. you shook your head at the thought. Love is a strong feeling. Especially the one he had showed you all this time.

Yes. You did love him. A lot. Just not in the way he did. But at this rate, you couldn’t say you if you deserved his love.

Multiple beeps broke out your train of thoughts. You were sure everyone was finding the culprit of breach of silence in the library. So you duck yourself into the desk to hide.

7 calls from johnny. 2 from minjun. 4 messages from johnny.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, opening the messages.

Johnny : did you reach safely!

Johnny : hey, pick up the phone.

Johnny : for once

Johnny : nobody ignores the john don. Don’t break my streak and call me back. Today! Or else I’m coming home. Make sure the dinner is ready!!!!!!!!!!!

Simply rolling your eyes, you recklessly threw the phone back in the bag, walking for the international relations section to get some work done. The second best distraction in life – research.

***********

The day was a complete loss.You didn’t study, pretended half day that you were finding a topic in the library but ended up reading animal farm again. Now you were home and with god’s grace, yuta was not back yet. Tossing the bag on bed, you changed down to cotton shorts and a tank top, ready to make a sandwich to eat as a starter before attacking the icecream you got earlier.

Big T.V, sandwich, ice cream, itaewon class, everything sans yuta was worth living these days. So enjoy it while it lasts. You slouched more into the couches as gaho’s start over played, the melodious voice slowing fading your bitter day.

******************

Yuta was just ready to sleep when he came back home. The idea of three hour training session after a week gap was certainly a crazy one but he realised it only when the deed was done. Now he badly wanted to go into hibernation mode.

Crossing the hallway, he saw the t.v playing gangnam style but noone was there except a white comforter. Upon inspection, he found you sleeping peacefully on your stomach curled up into a ball. He made a few sounds of displeasure at your figure before turning the device off. He was about to leave when something else caught his eye. Green tea ice cream.

He picked up the sealed cup, it was not fully frozen but still chilled enough. Maybe due to the air con. But he was happy. Now he could eat or drink his favourite ice cream and blow a fuse simultaneously. Ofcourse yours! He placed an envelope on the table and went away with the ice cream while not putting the lights out, that too intentionally ofcourse.

*****************************

Tuesday

Awakened by the rooster, you found yourself in the same position as yesterday. The cramp in the neck was now past the pain stage. It was numb to the point that sleeping on other side won’t help either. Supporting the neck with your palm, you started collecting the mess you had made on the table. Remote , plates, empty ice cream cup, the plastic spoon.

Weren’t there two cups???

Or maybe you just slept too much.

You came back from the kitchen to discover an envelope. A dL enevelope specifically.

Nakamoto y/n

-nonghyup financial group.            

It was addressed to you! .But you didn’t receive anything of that sort the other day so that meant it definitely involved yuta. And it was from a bank. You didn’t even have an account in that bank.

Nakamoto y/n my ass. You muttered bitterly before opening it. There were some promotional coupons, a small guide on how to open an account. You scoffed at the unnecessary stuff that was giving away nothing. Then you saw it.

A MasterCard. With your name. new name!

You gave the package a once over before closing it again, putting it in the original position. You were fully capable to survive on your own, there was no need for taeyong or yuta’s mercy when it was essentially to fulfil their own feeble ego. It felt like a kick to your noble gut!

Ignoring it completely, you went to wash up hurriedly so you could get out of his hair before he could attempt to spoil your mood any further. When you came back, a very unfamiliar sight astounded you. A man with deep blue suit stood in the kitchen with his back to you and if it was not for his blonde hair, he could easily be mistook for some gentleman. Due to the light blending sound of the juicer, he had missed your incoming. As you passed the sink to get to fridge, dirty dishes caught your eyes that he still hadn’t washed. You were not going to put your hands in his mud and before he could order,you told him off.

“ clean after yourself before leaving or it’ll stink in here.” You quietly said as you washed the oranges for breakfast.

“whaattt?” he asked like you were speaking some gibberish.

“I said clean these dirty dishes”

“Says who!” he raised a brow at you. “the one who was sleeping in the trash herself!”

“what trash? Oh! That was just a plate. And worry about yourself, I know how to wash mine!” you replied continuing the peeling.

“huh! Don’t boss me around. あなたは私の母ではありません!” before you could ask him what he muttered, he threw something on the pile. You slightly winced at the clatter but didn’t turn around and let him leave.

You examined the mess. The noise producer was a glass. The juicer was also filled with vegetable residues. One could only hope that he would take up your suggestion or you would be banning yourself from the kitchen, for ever!

You were peeling the second orange when he came out of his room and rushed out like his tail was on fire. A frustrated sigh left you as you took in the state he left the kitchen in but you were not going to be his maid. If he wanna eat, he could do it himself.

After breakfast, you did some finals revision which were approaching in three weeks but not like you were not prepared. All the papers were submitted, just the thesis topic submission was left which everyone else was already done with. Even jungkook. But you were instead going to use the day to make up with chelin.

******************

The day went as fine as it could. Chelin agreed to go shopping with you but it took more than just a takeout to sincerely apologise this time. She denied you half day, making you race for her forgiveness but eventually gave in at the end, with terms and conditions of course.  

You studied till late night but didn’t hear yuta returning. But the next morning you knew that he didn’t arrive at all. And in exasperation and for your own well being, you cleaned the sink to remove the stench. As much as you wanted to call taeyong, he won’t be helping you in anyway, that you were sure about. He pretended to take your side but at the end he was always yuta’s brother. And you were just a nobody.

*******************

Wednesday 3:43

 Johnny: where are you? Answer me asap.

  You : I’m studying. Don’t disturb me!

Johnny: sure. Don’t show me tantrums and come out. i’m waiting

You : waeyoo??

You groaned at the message. Avoiding him was no more an option!

You : where are you? I’m already on the pavement.

You looked around for a tall figure but he was nowhere to be seen.

“you are alive!” johnny jested, turning you with your shoulders to face him. He was clad in off white button down and white pants, making your worn out self feel like a beggar.

“you tracked me again?”

“woahh! You hit my generosity with a shit face! Expected better from you.”

“ did. You. track. Me .johnny!”

“you started it by not replying. I was worried!” he defended himself a bit comically.

“I swear I’m going to drown this bracelet in a sewage!” you bellowed while getting out of his grip.

“you know you can’t do that and it’s waterproof and maybe gutterproof as well so think harder about throwing it. Hyuck would find it eventually and make you wear the same piece!.”

Scrunching your nose in disgust, you muttered a curse at him which only earned a chuckle from him.

“why are you here anyway.”

“for shopping.”

“what shopping?”

“clothes! Duh. You have a celebration to attend!”

You scoffed at his casual tone. “ what celebration johnny. I’m not doing another shit on taeyong’s order.” You declared, hands crossed on chest.

“it’s not something grand. Just a small get together of office workers and you know you can’t ditch tae.”

“office event! That’s another reason to avoid it. I would be alone with yuta and If you don’t know already, he literally pulls his knife at me everytime he sees me! He’ll k-

“I’ll be there.”

“oh so now this is an office event with family members! Good luck convincing me this time!”

“who said anything about attending as family.” He said, winking at you and dragged you by right arm towards his car. Once you were seated, you stopped him from going further.

“nope. Listen. Lemme think first , then I’ll decide what to wear on my own. If you have time, just drop me home. I’m hungry and I have some work to do.” You tiredly said, dropping your head on the seat. He could only chuckled at your antics.

“then we’ll eat something before shopping and I’m not hearing another word. Fasten your seatbelt lady, we are going on a highway to shopping!” you laughed at his cute shout and he took it as a signal to drive.

After insisting johnny that you were going to pay for your own dress, you both stopped at the mall food court to eat something. A full tummy rotated your mood 180 degrees and you were ready to have him pull you around. He dragged you from store to store to only end up doing window shopping until he found THE ONE! That was what he declared it to be!

You both went around different aisles to pick some clothes. Though you could afford those, you still didn’t had the heart to do so. Your precious money was going for what! Clothes?

After something like twenty minutes, you both met near the changing room as decided.

“Go change and give me a show. I don’t trust your old school brain.”

You huffed but did as he said.

He has gotten mixture of bright colours and soft shades, sleeveless and thin strapped, long dresses!

And the one you chose were south to his north. You wore one that you picked at first, a solid black knee length flowy skirt dress with long sleeves. It looked good on all the right places, so you went out to show him.

“how’s this?” you asked him excitedly but the mood died down seeing his dull expression.

“no! you ain’t wearing anything this short!”

“Knee length is not short johnny”

“change it!”

“uugghh!”

The next dress you wore was ivory draped puff long sleeve mini dress. You almost cooed at yourself but he rejected it again. at every dress you chose, he shook his head in disagreement.

“why don’t you try mine ones?” he quipped.

“um. I don’t wear sleeveless.soo..

“why? Those looks sexy girl!”

“no! get me anything quarter or long sleeved but not these thin straps and no questions coz I’m not answering any!” the questions in johnny’s head died down before he could even form them.

“okkk. No need to bite me over that. Wait lemme find something.”

You stood in the changing room for what felt like eternity when johnny finally called you out with his nosy loud voice.

“these!” he handed you two dresses and signalled to change.

“why are we hustling so much. It’s not like anyone’s gonna bother!” you said in a bored tone, feeling the heaviness of the dresses.

“just go already. I’m getting hungry again!”

Both of his dresses were beautiful. All the previous ones looked quite dull in comparison. And just by looking, you already knew what you wanted. as you took in your appearance after changing, a smile lit up on your face. It was a powder blue dress with golden embroidery. The plunging neckline with fitted waist accentuated your best features though it would only properly fit when you were not bloated from eating. Sheer elbow length sleeves with gold hid what you wanted to in the first place, so they were alright. The satin skirt was long , resting right against your legs, not too flowy but you could already imagine yourself in your black heels that would be hidden under the skirt ,yet complementing it perfectly.

you presented yourself in front of johnny.“I want this one.” You said, tightening your hair tie. he wordlessly walked towards you and removed it, setting your straight hair on your back instead.

“how do I look?” you questioned hopefully. His face adorned a very light smile but it still reached his eyes. He moved backwards and examined your form , pretending to be evaluating you with hands tucked in his pockets.

“you look like-” he paused before biting his lower lip as if finding something peculiar to say. “a woman.” He completed, gaze still fixed on your eyes.

“what! A woman. That’s all!! you are just like- just like yeong! Ugh” you stomped your feet before going back to change into original jeans. You were expecting some high quality comment but nevermind.

After you were gone, johnny couldn’t control his laughter. He knew his compliment was lame , heck it wasn’t even a proper compliment but he meant it. And it was not for the dress you wore but for the smile that he saw for the first time. He sighed before he saw you approaching.

“I’m also hungry. Let’s get takeout. Devil won’t be home. We can peacefully eat without interference.”

Johnny chuckled again before following you.

“hey, isn’t this one a bit expensive.” He enquired as the other dress was a bit cheaper.

“I don’t care. I’ll think of this as a long term investment.”

“how?”

“I’ll repeat it at your wedding!”

******************************

Your stomach growled loudly as you opened the door. Johnny tailed behind you with arms full of food and clothing bags. He went to kitchen as you proceeded to find your shorts, dying to get out of the hellishly tight jeans. Holding your hair in a low loose ponytail, you exited the bathroom only to find johnny standing there like a pole.

“what?”

“what! I gotta pee. Get out!” he pulled you out while entering himself.  You returned to the kitchen mumbling incoherently at johnny and opened the take out boxes. As you made your way for the couches, johnny shouted at you.

“you animal!”

“what? Did you call me?”

“you need to heat it first. I’m not gonna eat like an animal!”

You felt slightly unnerved when he extended his hand to carry them to the kitchen again. in no way you were going to stand near it so you transferred the boxes and made your way to the room.

“heat them. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“no wait! why are you always running?” he placed the boxes on counter in a swift motion and rushed for your door.

“why are you hiding now?” he asked knocking lightly, not sure if it was locked or just shut down.

“don’t you have food to heat?”

“oh so that’s your way of running from chores!” he dragged out the last words mockingly.

“no its not like that.” Your said in a small voice. “I’ve an irrational fear of beeps. So I can’t go near the microwave.” You mumbled, voice filled with embarrasement. You weren’t sure why you told him but the bullet was out now.

Johnny went quiet before opening the door to find you standing, head hung low. Taking your arm, he pulled you out of the room.

Now you were standing in front of the oven, scared if he was going to run a test on you. You tried to back away but he was quick in caging you with his long ass arms.

“here,” his finger pointed to a certain button, “this is a mute button. You can shut this damn thing dude. Were you living under a rock or something?” he screeched at you in a high pitched voice, making you wince. But you were stunned at the discovery and you were sure chelin was as illiterate as you were in this matter.

“is it also some expensive shit?”

“no dumbo. Most of these have a mute function. Either you were stupid or just unlucky to buy a wrong one. But what’s with the scare.” He asked with curiousness in his eyes.

You drew your eyes away, wishing he would let it go but his deep stare ultimately broke you.

“Umm old trauma,” you started , avoiding his eyes, “I was in the accident with my mama and dad.I don’t have vivid memories of it, the only thing I remember is the noise of ambulance, police, some shouting. Nothing more. When they took me to their hospital room ,maybe coz I was crying or something, they d-died in front of me. H-heart monitors. Beeping again. when first time mrs.park , my orphanage caretaker , took to me to kitchen to make me food, I screamed and lashed at her violently. A lot of teasing followed that incident, by the senior kids ofcourse. But its only limited to few things, I don’t get triggered by cars or music. And she never took me to kitchen after that, maybe that’s why I never overca-.” You faced him as you completed. “th-that’s the story.” Your voice came out as a harsh deep breath.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut from next time” He apologised, his hands sliding from the counter to your waist. “ I- let’s heat this. Your first time. I’ll show you how we use this high end gadget.” He suggested, lightening the atmosphere instantly.

“yeah. I’m very excited!” your words were cheerful but voice wasn’t. he gave you a full on tutorial like a salesman at which you nodded like a very compliant customer. Now you were waiting. Sometime while showing you, his arms had securely held you against the counter, comfortable smiles resting between you two. Johnny’s eyes scanned every feature of your face, in a gaze that was not very tricky to describe. Your own hands were resting on the counter, twitching under his scrutiny. You didn’t want to but couldn’t help thinking if he-

“Woah! What. Is. Happening?” yuta’s surprise entry alarmed you both as johnny levelled himself up, covering you from yuta’s inquisitive eyes.

“Nothing. you say? How was office.” Johnny inquired, immediately changing the subject.

“they love me. That’s enough for me. But what are you up to suh? He wiggled his brows, neck craning to indicate behind-the-scenes happenings.

“we-we went to shopping. And we were gonna eat now. You wanna join?

“shopping? What did you got? Condoms?” he whispered the last part with a devilish smile.

Johnny glared at yuta to which yuta answered with a tired look.

“enjoy yourself. it’s better that I sleep off whatever is gonna happen here. Just keep it low. I’m fucking exhausted and dead.” He retired saying it loudly enough for you to melt in humiliation but he didn’t know explicit comments won’t make you feel low in shame.

Johnny circled to face you after his departure, embarrassed eyes wandering all over the kitchen cabinets above your head.

“I’m not gonna touch it. get it out.” You motioned for the food that was burning in the heat, according to you.

“oh!”

You both went to couches to enjoy the food and talked for about 30 minutes more. It seemed like yuta was seriously out like a light. You laughed, ate, gossiped and when the session ended, he was well aware of your infatuation with certain kinds of drinks and you knew that hyuck was the stinkiest person on earth. All was well and he left, making you happy for the time being.

**********************

Friday

For the whole day, you were busy. Prof. kwang suddenly thought it was best to summon you to fill the absence of his assistant, adding fuel to misery. But you were able to function fully for you hadn’t  run into yuta in the last 24 hours. After completing the extra tutoring sessions, you finally arrived at the destination.

You ran out of the elevator as you were already late. Maybe beyond late. As your room keys jingled, a voice stopped you from turning the knob.

“you are late! We were supposed to be there at 7:30. Taeyong is gonna be pissed off at me now and all because of your shitty time sense.” He gritted his teeth,making you angry but when you turned around, you knew you had fucked up. He was fully ready in a black suit, hair swept back and all , like a gentleman but you didn’t get the time to admire him as the look in his eyes was literally enough to scare you.

“I’m a busy person. Just give me few minutes. I’ll be out.” You said quietly, not ready to start a verbal fight with a no-brain case.

“don’t do that.” he stopped you again from entering the room. “ take a shower first. You ain’t sitting in my car with that smell.”

You bit your lower lip to control the overwhelming urge to kick him in the balls for his hypocrisy and simply shut the door.

After a quick clean up, you changed into the blue dress, did some light makeup to hide the black holes under your eyes. Completing the look with red lip, you went out, bare handed.

Yuta was on the couch, playing some game when you saw him.

“aren’t we getting late or something?” you scoffed , standing in his vision. He sized you up as his pupils dilated. Not wanting to entertain him anymore, you treaded to find your heels. He joined you after a few minutes and within two minutes, you were out.

******************

As you entered the decorated hall, you knew johnny made the event sound more smaller than it was. How you were going to survive the long night was beyond your imagination. Every corner of the room was filled with people chatting away with each other. The more you looked, the more you felt like an outsider. no familiar figure met your sight. The anxiety started creeping in and that’s when you saw someone approach you.

“fashionably late yuta! Its understandable though. Look at y/n. she looks so pretty!” taeil exclaimed, wiggling his brows at you.

“hurry up would you?” yuta said in irritation.

“nope. You are still my employee so tongue in your mouth. now let’s announce your arrival first.”

You followed him like a cat, only stopping somewhere at the centre of the room. You noticed that taeil’s footstops gathered attention like none other.he glanced around before clearing his throat as an indication for everyone to quiet down.

“I don’t need to tell anyone why we are here! But formality is a trend in business and I shall follow it to my deathbed,” a combined laugh followed from everyone but it seemed like an inside joke for you. “yuta nakamoto, our dear employee got hitched in a very intimate ceremony and don’t worry even I wasn’t invited! But tradition continues and here were are gathered to celebrate their happiness. He would be gone soon again so it’d be nice if you all give your wishes and blessings for their future. And I’ll also introduce y/n to the family. She is nothing but a charming woman and i hope she ditches others to join our company one day!” a round of applause followed and taeil cleared the path for everyone.

One by one, people loomed towards you to congratulate in their own way. A hand snaked around your waist, startling you momentarily. “just smile.” His whispered into your hair. You nodded before putting on the biggest smile possible for a person stucked in your position. A few stolen glances at him showed that he was also flashing a bright smile as he shook several hands. Some asked your name, some were interested in your occupation whilst one was interested in knowing the jeweller of your ring. You couldn’t say taeyong so you just waved it off with few giggles. Millions questions were running through your head and there was noone to answer. The aroma of the food passing around in trays was not helping the grumbles coming from your empty stomach. Though you both moved to a corner, fellow employees were still taking turns to have the business and personal talk with your husband. He spewed words like he was the ultimate game, but you knew better just by the way his hold on your waist tightened at some particular questions.

You would’ve surely enjoyed his distress but you wanted nothing more than to eat a piece of cake that that just flew by you. luckily for you, a waiter halted at your stop. You grabbed a drink and hurriedly took a sip to soothe your nerves, all when yuta was staring like a hawk. He observed your nervousness right when you entered but it was heartbreaking for him to avoid poking fun at you.

He gulped his glass in one go, releasing a sigh of relief, as he saw taeyong and others approaching. kun, johnny, jaehyun were tailing behind but they seemed quite distant.

“hello mr. lee. We are glad to have you here.” Yuta formally shook taeyong’s hand, your face instinctively scrunched up at his behaviour.

“I see you married a very fine young woman.”taeyong also cajoled but in a very professional tone.

“you met her! She’s y/n. my partner in crime! Loveliest wife ever. But be careful, she’s a bit nosy.” He pointed his words towards you while keeping an arm around your shoulder. You simply rolled your eyes at him. You were about to threw his arm away when others approached you.

“If I wasn’t concerned about my repo here, I would have cooed at you y/n. I wanna pinch your cheeks so hard right now. Everyone thinks you both are so happy, but only I know how constipated you are from inside woman!”jaehyun laughed like he just shared a joke with you but not holding back, you just unleashed the exaggerated version of his laughter.

“oh jaehyun!” you started, slightly hitting your glass on his arm, “ not sure about a pinch, but I can surely punch your pretty face and guess what! I don’t have any repo to maintain. So its your responsibility that I don’t explode or else you won’t have anything to be concerned about anymore.” You finished letting out a fake giggle, but seemed like everyone but jaehyun found it funny as they were all laughing at the diss.

“atleast you think I’m pretty! No wait! it sounds all wrong!” he suddenly whined, encouraging everyone to laugh loudly at his state.

He was still being grumpy when an old man stopped near you, escorted by taeil making the uproar stop immediately. They all bowed at him and you followed suit. From the looks, he seemed in his 70s or maybe more.

“i love when young people find love. Who do you work for kiddo?” he lovingly asked you.

“I’m a masters student. Law specifically. I wish to join chois one day.”

“chois? I don’t like those leeches. You should try in qian mutlinationals. Kun have more opportunities and you can go international from there. He can give you a free ride till china, beyond that you can explore yourself!” as he finished his wise advice, you turned to kun in surprise. He nodded his head at you with a sheepish smile, confirming the words.

“sure, I’ll give it a thought.”

“and you nakamoto! I heard you were back last week but who would like to greet this old man who’s gonna die anyway.” He scoffed at him and you could sense the tone of friendliness in their interaction.

“you are the one to blame. You don’t get out of your house these days. And you don’t even care enough to visit us anymore.”

Now you were super confused.

“ohh! So she knows everything. When were you gonna tell me! When I had gotten diabetes with all the sweet talking.”as they all expressed their amusement, you were getting restless from all the unknown.

“I would love to hear your love story but I am extremely hungry. But y/n I have a work for you”, you nodded at his words, “ convince moon to remarry. I can’t watch him die like me, alone and unhappy. This manforce have failed so I expect a smart woman like you can find a way to do that. Please promise me, you’ll do it for this old man.” You were out of words but taeil made your work easy as he dragged him away.

“I think you’re drunk enough. Let’s worry about me while eating the delicious food.”

“only you can do it y/n!” and he was gone.

“you’ll get all answers so don’t worry. You look lovely by the way but I shall take my leave as I’m also very hungry.” Taeyong explained patting his stomach. Looked like everyone was getting food but you!

“y/n-ah! Not that shorts don’t suit you but dressing up just scaled up your beauty.” kun chimed in causing yuta to scoff. The way air was leaving his nose, it’d blow up anytime soon.

“johnny’s fashion sense is immaculate like always.” Johnny said, raising his collars.

“don’t blow your own trumpet. I was the one who chose it!”

“huh! What she chose were donkey dresses!”

“donkey! You need to change your dictionary.”

“respect. I’m a top level worker in lee financial corps.” He said smugly.

“so they just hire anyone wow!”

“not jus-

“stop you two! We are still here.” You glanced at kun and yuta, eyeing you both.

“I’m just hungry kun. I just had breakfast and coffee and nothing else.”

“then go and eat. I also need a breather from you!” yuta barked, playing with the empty glass.

It was your turn to snort now. But johnny linked his arm with you to take you away before the war could start. You ate as much as you wanted while questioning him,

“how can these employees have so much energy to spare. Don’t they work 9 to 5, then get time to attend a stupid party!”

“they were given half day off today.” He replied, munching the tofu.

“who was that old man?”

“that’s all part of a circle. You’ll complete it one day but I can’t tell u here so wait!”

“hmm. Then what about taeil? About remarrying him! And taeyong and kun’s companies. Dude that’s huge. How do you manage your syndicate.”

“stop! Cant you eat in silence woman. You’ll know when it’s your turn.”

“ok last one. How can yuta be an employee here when only thing he knows is to make juice or slice people!”

“we have his backup who does the actual work. Yuta takes cares of the investors and all. So he’s supposed to be anywhere but here. So it works out. And fyi he’s quite an eye candy here.”

“then go flirt with him! I ain’t in need of a poison candy.”

after gobbling all the starters, you conversed with him for about 20 minutes whilst enjoying your drinks. And he took you back to you designated seat for the night, right by yuta’s arm.

Earlier, you were being hoarded with guests, now it was your turn. It seemed like you were yuta’s assistant who was taking mini business reports from employees. By now you had no doubt that yuta was nothing but a chameleon, well versed in hiding his true self to blend in the corporate environment. You smiled as much as you could, giggled when yuta laughed and turned towards you, gulped numerous kinds of drinks and now you were a bit tipsy or maybe just tired or both.

You were handling fine being yuta’s dear wifey until they announced that there was a dance. And the stupid couples already hurdled to the centre to show off their skills which you didn’t have in the first place. You heard yuta groan as he pinched his nose and that was his most agreeable expression he had from the whole night.

“let’s just flee after this” yuta suggested.

“hell no! my dancing skills can’t be exposed to these prim prom perfect people. I ain’t doing it.” You continuously shook your head at him, the enmity forgotten for a moment. But he had other plans.

“don’t you dare step on me. I’m gonna eat you alive if you holed my shoes!” he suddenly moved you to the pool of people dancing on the floor. He guided your hands on the right places and the position made you both well aware of the tension in each other’s bodies.

“just do what others are doing.” You craned your neck from side to side but got nothing.

“nobody is doing anything. They’re just stitched to each other!”

“exactly.” And without any warning, he pulled you into him, your grip on his shoulders tightening instantly.Standing chest to chest with him, you totally forgot the need to exhale. You didn’t dare move as he delicately swayed you from side to side, his eyes boring into yours. You wondered what conception were you both throwing at others. He was no pro like you but still managed to look like one.

It continued for few moments until jaehyun interrupted you.

“can I have her hand in dance” he asked yuta to which the man just released you. it was so sudden that you were taken aback by his sour mood but everything about yuta was sudden so you didn’t paid much attention when you had a mountain of trouble standing in front of you.

“may i?” jaehyun asked, bowing to you.

“no!”

“oh come on. I’m much better than yuta in dance.” He jerked your hand and next moment you knew, you were waltzing with him. He was doing what you call actual dancing.

“you looked so romantic with him and here I get the stink eye.” he sighed at you.

“because I am confined by the demand of this situation or else even you would be sporting a black eye by now!”

“I feel extremely hurt y/n. we are same age so shouldn’t we be getting along.”

“getting along my ass you son of nepotism.”

“that’s so unlady like behaviour. You should be accepting friendships when you are getting them. As said by a someone very famous, life is fleeting and in your case, I won’t trust the lifecourse too much.”

“stop using instagram quotes on me. Read the context then put into application, jaehyun. Life is fleeting. Chances would be gone before you know it.”

“when was the last time you listened to someone without running your brain hmm?”

“the same day when you were taking a break from running your mouth.”

“you are a terrible dancer.”

“you aren’t any good either.”

“what was the name of the boy who gave you hickies?”

“you want classes from him?”

“nope. I’m more than better at my game. I just wanna confirm what is he? Blind or dickhead! Coz no sane man would come near your beasty at-

“I hope you love your shoes.”

“what!”

A gasp left him, face turning red as he shut his eyes tightly to contain the pain. you had stomped on his foot with your pencil heel and now he couldn’t do anything but mutter curses as he progressed slowly for the bar to sit. Yuta joined him soon only to fan the flames.

As the time passed , drowsiness took control over your senses. Dinner was being closed by now, but you were the hosts or were supposed to be , so there you stood by the door with same i-am-so-in-love-with-my-hubby and it-was-pleasure-to-meet-you grins plastered on your face. Yuta’s hands would be calloused by the amount of hand shaking he had done but not that you cared.

Goodbyes were sent to taeil and johnny as well and when you were about to leave, jaehyun and taeyong came over with some papers in their hands.

“y/n you forgot to sign these. This one is for the property situated in gangnam. I know I promised three in the same area but I changed my idea for bigger and better. This one’s is in Incheon and other is in busan, your hometown!” he recited as he showed you the stamped papers. You were not sure about taking anything from him so you refused.

“no taeyong. I’m good. I’ve my sources and I’ll be joining summer internship so I can fend for myself.” You reasoned.

“it’s part of the deal. Just sign, I mean well please.”

You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you tried to think harder about it.

“leave it taeyong. This tie is killing me so let’s just talk tomorrow.”yuta said, loosening his bow tie.

“It doesn’t concern you yuta and y/n its part of the promise. Do it or I’ll have to force.” Your jaw clenched at his desperate tone. so you snatched the pen , ready to do as he demanded.

“where do I have to sign!”

“here!” he pointed out on the first file. “and y/n y/l/n nakamoto!”

You nodded without glancing at him and signed on all the three files, making it official.

Taeyong flashed you a smile as you returned him the pen, “I’m glad it worked fine. Now you must be tired so we’ll let you retire.”

You passed him without caring enough to reply. Soon enough , yuta joined you.

**************************

The passing trees and streetlights provided the comfort that you didn’t know you needed. It was sweet, the feeling of being alone yet not letting others feel the same. you were trying to count the number of streetlights as you passed speedily.

“aren’t you smart enough to know why taeyong took your signatures tonight?” yuta broke the silence. he took a sharp cut as you lost your count. Not receiving an answer, he spoke again, calmly, “ those properties were on earlier registered on taeyong’s name and that busan one is mine. Taeyong is sharp witted man  you should’ve been careful before giving in to him.”

“what are you trying to say!”

“everything’s flying through your head right! To put it simply, you are part of mafia now.” Your head snapped towards him in utter shock as words left his mouth, “ if you try to rant us or steal any info to give away, upon background checkout , you’d be found equally involved in the illegal activities of neos for when if it is proved that me or taeyong are part of underground, our properties would be sealed , stamping your future with them. You won’t even escape income tax department let alone cops! Those buildings are after all, result of our illegal income!” he stopped as he took another turn, not aware of how your eyes were glistening by now. “you can’t leave unless taeyong wants you to and pray if you would ever be able to! It was a surprise for all of us as well so you don’t need to feel betrayed at all. You, me, taeyong, johnny. The great black neos!” he finished as the car halted in the parking lot.

As soon as he unlocked, you ran out of it, tears rushing down nonstop. Elevator seemed too slow, the mirrors were making you more dizzy as it moved upwards. Everything came in flashes from the moment you passed by that alley. This was not the deal that you accepted! Regret and guilt filled you as the the lift opened. Throwing your shoes in the midway, you ran to your room as the tears turned into sobs, wrecking your whole body. Turning in the keys, you casted yourself onto the bed. With burning throat you passed out there.

And yuta stood outside your door, emotionless, in an attempt to envision how this would end for the both of you!

********************************************

yuta or johnny??? 

thank you so much for reading!