#my sleep schedule is already suffering enough

[shadowgamerhalo]

My early child years I was a morning person, but the older I got that's when the shift happened. I became someone who woke up in the afternoon most days. How I was treated for this was horrendous. My several of my siblings would comment on or mock me for it, especially on the occasions i was awake in the morning. My mom often threatened to take away things just cause I couldn't wake up in the morning. And mind you I say couldn't as in, I tried to wake up in the morning, my body wouldn't let me. I often would say it knew how much sleep I needed better than I did.

When I started college it was absolute hell, my sleep schedule became so bad that I was sleep deprived during school days, sleeping well into the evening when not going to school.

On top of this, my body had the usual sleep problems, such as can't fall asleep cause of restlessness, seeing things in the dark, racing thoughts. And when I did sleep, sometimes I'd be woken up by nightmares, and some nights I couldn't sleep after them.

I had no control over my sleep, it was exhausting. I tried everything my family told me over and over to do, cause somehow if I did them, I'd be able to wake up in the mornings. None of them worked, and I hated every time someone mentioned how tired I was, mentioned my sleeping habits. I researched everything I could, until someone outside the family mentioned something called melatonin. So I went into more research with that and decided to take the supplement.

This actually helped me fix my sleep schedule, and figure out why my body was doing it. Firstly, children and teenagers need more sleep. Secondly, my body was trying to help me with my growing sleep problems, even if that meant I slept in more often. Thirdly, when I went to college it required me to wake up extremely early, when I normally would be sleeping, my body's circadian rhythm was thrown off badly because of this. Fourthly, I kept inside so much my body wasn't able to produce enough of the melatonin it was already low on supplies with, because of the very people who demanded I wake up earlier.

There wasn't anything wrong with my younger self waking up 10-12, I wasn't harming nobody, in fact those were my more restful days, when I was actually able to sleep as much as I needed to. Messing with my balance was actually what fucked with me, and my body suffered the price for it.

Now days my sleep schedule is forced to do mornings, however it's now a lot healthier than it was in college, as the melatonin sorts out most of the sleep problems, and being away from my family sorts out the others most of the time. And I have one day where I get to sleep in as much as I need to, and yeah my body wakes me up on that day normally at 10 to 11 am. Goes to show I'm still not a morning person, mornings are just because of my work schedule.

I still think it’s objectively fucked how the world is built for morning people and if you wake up later than everyone else you’re seen as a malicious aberration of some sort. I am that but it’s not because I wake up at 11 fuck yourself

[bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue]

Beboptober 2024 Day 4: Virus

Thanks to @bebopcrew for the prompt list! A short one for today :)

Spike-person and Faye-Faye were out chasing a bounty on the Swordfish and the Red Tail, but they weren’t doing so hot. The two guys they were trying to track down had somehow turned the tables and were now hot on their tails, firing missiles left and right. Spike and Faye’s ships were taking it okay for now, but a couple of more good shots by the criminals and they’d be falling down, down, down….

Good thing Ed was there to save the day!

Because little did those bounty heads know that she and Jet had a secret weapon: a computer virus she’d written. It had worked once before, on those mean old pirates, and unlike then, she could send this virus wirelessly, over the net. Besides, these criminals weren’t pirates; they hadn’t even tried to hack their ship or steal all their data first. They probably didn’t have any antivirus software. In fact, for all Ed knew, they didn’t know their ships could be infected at all!

She could see Jet’s brow all scrunched up in worry as he watched Spike, Faye, and the criminals chasing them out the Bebop’s big window, and occasionally glanced back at her. She giggled as her fingers flew over her keyboard, adding some finishing touches to her masterpiece of a program. Silly Jet. He didn’t have to worry. Never fear, Ed was here!

With a flourish, she gestured to Ein, floating next to her. She’d let him do the honors. Obligingly, Ein pressed his nose down on her computer’s Enter key and barked.

Now she drifted over to the window and watched, too, as the ships tailing Spike and Faye started to veer and spin crazily out of control. They almost looked pretty, like a bird or a butterfly in zero gravity. “Wheeeee!” Ed said, following their path with her finger on the window hoping Jet wouldn’t notice and reprimand her for smudging it.

And then the bounty heads were the ones falling down, down, down, while the Swordfish and the Red Tail zoomed safely away, then turned back to follow them down into the planet’s atmosphere—Spike and Faye had the upper hand again.

The virus had worked!

Ed had known it would, but it still delighted her. She spun and twirled around in zero gravity, laughing and squealing, feeling all filled up with her shiny, sparkly triumph.

Jet’s brow wasn’t all wrinkly anymore, either. “You’re a lifesaver, Ed,” he said, casting a grateful smile her way.

Was she? Maybe she was. She was a lifesaver. She had kept Spike and Faye from spiraling down into Certain Oblivion. Thanks to her, they’d catch the bounty and earn lots and lots of Woolongs to buy yummy treats and souvenirs, and keep the crew happy, fed, and not grumpy.

And without her, they’d be totally doomed. She’d been the one to save them.

She sure was lucky!

[zukkaoru]

wait omg daylight savings tonight.. we lose an hour of sleep... guys it's the one day a year where i can maybe pretend that i managed to sleep in

[manasurge]

✨✨✨✨I can't focus on anything✨✨✨✨

I'm doing that thing where I'm just sitting in silence for hours without realizing it until it's time for me to go to bed and I DID NOTHING AGAIN. This is so FruSTRaTINg.

[jiminomenon]

assistant! reader ignoring model! karina after a fight

pairing: model! karina x female assistant! reader

word count: 942

summary: after a heated argument, y/n had enough of jimin’s antics and decided to ignore her completely. at first, jimin didn’t care—or at least, that’s what she told herself. but as the silence stretched on, frustration turned into something she didn’t want to acknowledge. jimin never apologized—she never had to. but for y/n? she just might make an exception.

from my series: the devil wears prada

jimin had never been good at saying sorry.

in fact, she rarely ever had to. apologies were for people who made mistakes, and as far as she was concerned, she was never wrong. people always bent to her will, never the other way around.

but this? this was unbearable.

it all started earlier that day, when jimin, in all her bratty, self-important glory, had snapped at y/n in front of an entire room of people.

the day had been chaotic—photoshoots, fittings, meetings with designers—and jimin had been running on nothing but black coffee, four hours of sleep, and sheer irritation.

y/n, ever the responsible assistant, had tried to remind her of a scheduling conflict, something about overlapping appointments and the need to reschedule one of them. but jimin, already overwhelmed and not in the mood to be nagged, had brushed her off.

no—brushed off was too soft. she had outright snapped.

“oh my god, y/n, just shut up for a second and let me think!”

the room had gone silent.

the stylists, the makeup artists, even the photographer—everyone had turned their heads, the tension so thick it was suffocating. jimin, in her frustration, hadn’t thought much of it at the time. she had simply turned back to her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the outfit she was wearing like nothing had happened.

but y/n’s expression had flickered, lips pressed together as she inhaled slowly through her nose. she hadn’t said a word in response. instead, she had simply nodded, composed and professional as ever, before quietly stepping away.

jimin should have known then.

should have known that y/n was really mad.

and now, hours later, as they sat in jimin’s penthouse, jimin was suffering the consequences.

y/n was ignoring her.

not in the petty, passive-aggressive way that most people did, where they sighed dramatically and stomped around to make a point. no, y/n was doing it with precision. calculated indifference.

she still did her job—setting down jimin’s evening tea, organizing her schedule, responding to emails. but she did it all without a single glance in jimin’s direction.

no sarcastic remarks, no witty comebacks, not even an exasperated “jimin, please.”

just silence.

jimin hated it.

she was used to being the center of attention, used to people doting on her, catering to her every whim. even when she and y/n did fight, it never lasted long because, inevitably, jimin would do something to annoy her into speaking again.

but this? this was like being invisible.

and jimin hated being invisible.

finally, she snapped.

“are you seriously still mad?” jimin demanded from her spot on the couch.

silence.

y/n didn’t even look up from her tablet, fingers tapping away like jimin hadn’t spoken at all.

jimin narrowed her eyes. “y/n.”

nothing.

she huffed, draping herself over the armrest dramatically. “come on,” she groaned. “you’re acting like a child.”

y/n continued scrolling.

jimin was starting to lose patience.

“y/n, i swear, if you keep this up, i’ll—”

y/n suddenly stood, grabbing the empty teacup from the coffee table before turning towards the kitchen, still not acknowledging jimin.

jimin scoffed. “oh my god. you do realize you work for me, right? ignoring me isn’t exactly part of your job description.”

silence.

y/n rinsed the cup under the sink.

jimin followed her, stopping at the counter.

“so that’s it? you’re just going to act like i don’t exist?” jimin pressed, crossing her arms.

y/n continued drying the cup, her expression unreadable.

jimin tapped her fingers against the counter impatiently. “y/n.”

y/n set the cup down.

“y/n,” jimin repeated, her voice a little softer this time.

nothing.

the frustration bubbling inside her started shifting into something else. something… unfamiliar.

jimin sighed, shifting her weight. “look.” she rubbed her arm, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically awkward. she averted her eyes before forcing herself to meet y/n’s gaze.

“i guess—i might’ve—been a little…” she grimaced, struggling to force the words out. “harsh earlier.”

y/n raised an eyebrow.

jimin exhaled sharply. “ugh, fine,” she relented. “i was rude. there. i said it.”

y/n remained unimpressed.

jimin clenched her jaw. “what more do you want?”

y/n sighed, finally setting the towel down. “i just don’t get why you have to be like that sometimes.”

jimin frowned. “like what?”

“mean,” y/n deadpanned. “you treat people like they’re disposable when you’re stressed out. i get that you have a lot on your plate, but i’m not your punching bag, jimin.”

jimin opened her mouth to argue but promptly shut it when she realized… y/n wasn’t wrong.

and that was a hard pill to swallow.

she scowled, rubbing the back of her neck. “i didn’t mean to snap at you.”

y/n tilted her head. “then why did you?”

jimin hesitated.

she wasn’t used to admitting when she was wrong.

she wasn’t used to… this.

after a long pause, she sighed heavily. “because i was frustrated,” she muttered.

y/n blinked, taken aback by the rare moment of honesty.

jimin clicked her tongue. “but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

y/n crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “you think?”

jimin rolled her eyes. “don’t push it.”

y/n smirked. “i dunno, i think i should push it. this is the first time i’ve seen you be considerate.”

jimin scoffed. “shut up.”

y/n laughed, shaking her head before stepping away.

jimin watched her go, feeling… lighter.

she still hated apologizing.

she still hated admitting she was wrong.

but for y/n?

she supposed she could make an exception.

[a-hermit-pining]

I saw this on Twitter (i forgot the @), but it really got me thinking. What would your hc be if the boys were playing the game and you were the mc? I hc that Caleb would save every "y/n laughing compilation" he comes across, rafayel would edit y/n's face on random fish and make crack edits and from his alt account he would drop the most gorgeous fanart, and for some reason I feel like sylus would use "quality time" religiously

Hi anon, thank you for sending this in ^^

I completely agree with your takes. Here is my take to compliment yours.

Rafayel: Is the undisputed Fanart King, sketching your character from every angle, in every possible outfit. If an art contest exists, he has already submitted three entries before anyone even knew it was happening. But beyond his artistic obsession, he is also the cursed glitch hoarder. While normal people would be horrified at a headless version of you appearing in-game, Rafayel takes screenshots for exclusive content, considering it a divine blessing from the tech gods. Despite his god-tier art skills, he has zero patience for level locks that force him to wait before progressing, so instead of playing at a normal pace, he rage-quits for months, then returns to binge the game in one sleepless week. His camera roll is half fanart, half stunning in-game scenery that he edits like it’s going in an art gallery.

Xavier: Does not play games for casual enjoyment. He plays for answers. He is a speedrun menace, hitting the first dialogue option before the text box even fully loads. If he gets stuck, he immediately transforms into a lore-devouring beast, reading every spoiler possible just to figure out how to proceed. The only thing keeping him from fully losing his sanity is his refusal to buy premium currency, his pride dictates that he must grind every last diamond by sheer willpower alone. And so, he hoards gems like his soul depends on it, progresses at breakneck speed, and once he’s finished all available content, he descends into 3 AM theory rabbit holes instead of doing something sane like, you know… sleeping. He probably has a color-coded spreadsheet tracking all the route impacts.

Zayne: No one would ever suspect that the infamous, critically acclaimed AO3 writer Frozen Seal, master of soul-crushing angst and tender, breathtaking romance, is actually the stoic, overworked cardiologist Zayne. His fics have a reputation for being so emotionally devastating that readers leave essays in the comments. His update schedule? Completely dictated by his hospital shifts. His author’s notes? Usually something like "Sorry, a patient coded. Will update later." Writes the most heart-wrenching, steamy romance scenes with surgical precision, leaving readers sobbing and sweating in equal measure. Has the smut writing skills of an ace author- which are god tier. Daydreams about you constantly, except when he’s actively resuscitating someone (Even he has limits.)

Sylus: Sylus owns everything. Every premium outfit, every pose, every CG. His entire paycheck is funneled into this game, and no one will ever know the full extent of his power. If questioned about how he maxed out every possible feature, he simply smirks and says, “Skill issue.” But despite single-handedly funding the dev team, he is infuriatingly secretive about his content. His in-game gallery? Locked. His premium screenshots? Hidden. Some speculate he has developers tied up in his basement feeding him exclusive content, but according to Sylus, it’s simply the fruit of his labor. Strangely enough, despite having literally everything, he still has beef with the gacha system and will cuss out the algorithm if he doesn’t get his way.

Caleb: Is cursed with abysmal gacha luck, pulling three-star memories every single time without fail. He suffers, but at this point, he embraces the suffering like a tragic hero. His nights are spent watching crack compilations at 2 AM, laughing silently to himself like a man on the verge of losing his mind (he is this 🤏🏻close). By all accounts, he plays the game rationally until your character appears, at which point all logic is abandoned. He has every single one of Zayne’s fics bookmarked, and he doesn’t just skim he analyzes them like scholarly literature, leaving long, heartfelt comments. And, of course, in the quiet solitude of his room, a freakishly realistic body pillow of you sits on his bed. If questioned? He doesn’t even blink. "It’s a limited-edition collector’s item."

[ladybyakuya]

IS WHAT LOVE IS ? | GEN NARUMI.

+cw.— omegaverse au ( alpha!male x beta!reader ) + roommates au + college / university au, gen narumi x f!reader, fast burn ( we don't appreciate it enough ), world building, angst & hurt, smut, mentions of alcohol, bullying, blood and physical injuries.

+syn.— When college got busy with upcoming internships, classes became hectic, sleep schedule got fucked up and exam stress piled on: gen narumi sought blissful comfort in your presence. However, the same can not be said about you.

+wc. —5k ( dw I think I'll often talk about this in my main.) 

+playlist. — affection by between friends \ no love in L.A by dutch melrose \ fire by jvke \ is this what love is by wasia project.

+notes. — one of my favourite things to get things done by challenging myself so please be kind to me if you feel my writing is little off or not fitting my general pattern. thank you, enjoy reading. | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — into the omegaverse collab by @goxjo + other tags : @sukirichi @to-eden @stunie @interstellar-inn

[ one. ]

"We should fuck,"  Narumi announces walking into the dorm room half-clad in the towel and boxers freshly showered, clusters of hair falling onto his face, wet and aromatic opening the door with a bang. Still, it failed to startle you like it generally does. His arm is still holding the door open as you try immersing yourself more into the university website that is spread open on your laptop attracting a fair amount of attention. A barely visible deft amongst his eyebrows arises as his presence remains unbeknownst to you even after he clears his throat. Are beta's senses that dull? 

You take the bluetooth earphones off your ears. "Did you say something?" you pose the question as if you are aware of his presence just now. 

Letting his fingers skim through his wet hair he grumbles, "We should fuck," with pinnable irritation in his voice not that you would know why he is being cranky. 

It is your turn to be silent. Your eyes switch over to the calendar hanging on the wall right beside him. It is still two weeks for Gen before he starts to show the bare minimum signs of an approaching rut. Besides, he has never been this ridiculous. "Did the summer heat finally take your sanity?" you exclaim with a scoff returning the annoyance right back at him but respectable enough to look at him as you spoke. Your phone chimes followed by a vibration and Narumi is forced to cover one of his ears with the arm that has been holding the door all the while; his other ear suffers the damage.

"How many times did I tell you to tone it down a few notches?" He gets inside finally closing the door. All you could spare for response is nothing but a glance of unease. Who is he to tell you what to do and what not? You put your notebooks and a few things in your bag as his whistle finally blows off. "It's been two years already. when are you going to finally give in to my alpha charms, huh? I know that you are no strangers to the modern ideas of mating. I mean you are quite active so why don't we just celebrate the last year of graduation being fuck buddies rather than just roommates?"  You roll your eyes when you are still facing his back to him. You turn around to tuck your hair behind your ears making the bluetooth earphones visible. Holding up your fisted right wrist in his direction you tap on the watch two times and fist out your palm with all five fingers and Narumi just squits his eyes. Before he could make full sense of what you are conveying, you are already out of the door and Narumi knows better than anyone that you love listening to music at high volumes without interruption. Maybe you do so because you are a beta or you are sad or annoyed about something. It couldn't be him, could it? Sometimes when the surroundings get too quiet and you are listening to music he can hear what song it is. 

Not that he is a fan of your music taste but he has rather expressed in preposterous ways to exhibit his distaste for your tastes, likes, and dislikes, sometimes even unasked for one and you were fine with it. You were fine with his obnoxious, rude, and rough behavior. Even in his class, he has a hard time getting along with his batchmates. Every once in a while he would come up with bloody knuckles or a bleeding nose, scratches in his face sometimes and you would have no other choice but to tend to his wounds. You never bothered to ask how he got hurt or why he hurt others and he never decided to divulge. Being at the top of the university has prevented him from getting expelled. The professors are fed up with him but are willing to put up with him only because he is sincere in his studies. And, he is surprisingly good at it given his nature. Sharing a room for almost more than two years with an alpha like Gen Narumi is not a cakewalk, especially for a beta like you. Even before moving into the dorm room, you knew that you would either be paired with an omega or an alpha. You knew what you were getting into and with the advancement of medicinal chemistry cohabitation with other species of your kind has become easier than before yet the primal urges never really fade, do they? After all, what is more dangerous than an unmated alpha? 

You check the time. You are so early for someone who has an interview for the first time. You sit with the other candidates without a slice of panic in your body. Thanks to Gen for nuking your attention into something that you would never expect in nightmares or another universe. Like what the fuck was that? What kind of question was that? Was that even a question? As for a fact, an alpha's desire is too innate to ignore. And with the amount of patience stored in Gen Narumi's body if anything was possible it would have happened in the first few months of college year. Wait a minute! is he finally asking you out after trying to hide it for almost two years? If yes, that would certainly explain why one time he gave you cologne on your birthday which would complement his scent too. Not only that, it would surely explain how he snuggles to you during movie nights, or on liquid nights he would almost spoon you when his ruts were approaching he was too broke to buy video games. But at the same time, you can not completely claim those actions as an act of pursuit of seeking a potential mate in you since it was just an extremely rare occurrence. 

You remember the time when both of you just came from an exam semester party being too drunk, high, and happy to change or freshen up. Both of you just passed out on the nearest bed to the door of the room and you swear you felt a graze of something sharp upon the nook of your neck. But you swiped that thought at the back of your mind thinking it as a dream or some bad alcoholic effect. That night you woke up with Narumi in your bed sleeping like a log, a loud log to be specific. You have always given him space during his ruts since it works better that way; rather than arguing to come to a truce. That's how you have always been. That's how betas had to be. You would always find him buried under a futon with bloodshot with a game controller in his hand, and a lot of junk food packets all around the room yet you chose to give him space because that is how you avoid alphas like him; the more you indulge with him, the greater the chances to be under his target radar. 

"Y/N L/N is next. Be prepared." the mic announces breaking the pensive silence and your reverie of thoughts for a mere blinking moment.

On the first day when you moved in you clearly stated that you would file a complaint if he ever tried to scent you, mark you during his ruts. He just joked saying, "So, it's okay when I'm not in a rut?" but you would not budge or answer him so he mentioned in a sing-songy tone, "Oh don't worry. Betas are hard to influence. You should know that darling.  Plus, you are not exactly my type." with a smug so loud on his face that you wished you could throw something at his face but engaging with him would give him a crack to widen the gulf, explore and test waters. . .you know better than that. But since unlike other alphas, he listened to it, he abided by it, he sustained it—- well tried to or he was just poking the bear for fun. He often does that when he is out of video games. 

That is how you have always maintained a boundary between him and you. 

Gen Narumi finds it impenetrable. You think all the things he does, he does it out of respect which is not exactly true. There is respect but just a pinch. Sharing a room with a beta wouldn't be too bad. That's what he thought when he came to know about you. He did mention in his admission form that he would not like an omega as his roommate but he did not expect it to be beta. It could have been an alpha or a zeta, someone either loud or too mute. Mediocrity has always been a foreign concept to him. And what's up with "do not scent me or mark me." as if he would be interested in such things. He is not like other alphas. Some alphas spend their ruts giving in to their urges while some take suppressants. Gen Narumi belongs to neither of them. He spends his ruts eating junk and playing video games. works both ways actually. It has always been like that since he was expressed as alpha in society. What would he do to a beta? or that's what he thought. 

This morning when he said, well, suggested that you and him should fuck he was possessed perhaps. Why on earth would he say that? It does not make any sense because never in two years he has thought or even looked at you with a splotch of romance. Most of the alphas in his batch have already found a mate or maybe were forced to. He might be the only unmated alpha in this university which is why lesser potential omegas approach him. An unmated alpha is always seen under the lens of threat. And, if they came to know how he spends his ruts, they would not even acknowledge him as an alpha. At the start of the college year, he would often end up bullied by other alphas because of that. The last thing he wants to do is to use his pheromones on others. Why would he waste it on others? He doesn't exactly know for what or whom he is saving it. He would come to the room late whenever he got into a fight. One time he was so tired of all the bullying that he did not even try to defend himself or scare them away. By the time he reached the dorm room,  he was too hurt to breathe properly. That night Gen Narumi came to know that even a beta can calm an alpha, and nurse them into good health if needed. He was too hurt to protest or say anything, all he could do was to imbibe your scent while you were taking care of him. Even betas have a smell. Did you do that on purpose? release pheromonic signals to calm him? Would it be so hard to believe if he were to say that most alphas took their roommates as mates? He can certainly try, at the very least he will get a good laugh out of your reaction. If you did that on purpose he has a chance to show other alphas that he is actually an alpha not that he cares what they say but since you showed your interest in him in a puzzled way he would certainly try to match your level. wouldn't this be a win-win situation if he fucked you? For you, for him, and others as well; it certainly would. That's right. This morning you did not pay enough attention to him so he will say it again just so he can reject you. That's what an exceptional alpha would do. He is exceptionally good at gaming and studies though so he can not see why he should let this opportunity slip through his hands like sand.

You open the door with the help of keys while holding your bag in one hand and your cell phone in the other. Gen does not leave his seat to hold the door rather graces you a glance and goes back to whatever he is doing. 

“Yeah. I’ll definitely call you back, Hoshina-san.” you disconnect the call and Gen’s eyes are on you. He does not look away so you took it as a cue to explain something, anything. He just needs some info to be fed so that he does not start again. “Hoshina Soshiro is gonna be my supervisor if I get the job. The interview wasn’t so bad but I don’t wanna get my hopes up. He is one of the best and doing an internship under his guidance would be a great start. ”

“Stay away from that guy,” Gen grumbles looking back at his desk. It is unusually neat today. Not to mention his futon bed is folded and kept on his bed in a side enough that one can sleep peacefully without any problem. You would have said something to him if your attention did not keep faltering . . .Gen rolls his revolving chair in your direction, one of his legs is touching the wheels of the chair while the other is stretched creating a huge gap. His left-hand travels under his t-shirt and it hooks on his right shoulder.  "we should fuck," he declares, inept and inert.

"oh god! Not again" you let out a groan and sit on the bed near to you. Your head is in hands not because of what he said or what he did, not even because your patience is thinning with each tick of the clock enough to not to put up with this anymore but because of what is about to come out of his mouth the next.

"So, you heard me the first time ?" he barks while leaving his chair. You just wave your hand nonchalantly in a gesture to dismiss him but he locks his hands in his chest taking a stern stance in front of you.

You tilt up your head looking him in the eye, "You know Gen we shouldn't do this," your elbows rest on your thighs as you start to scratch your index finger with the other.

"don't you mean can't? you can't do this?" Is he serious? Isn’t he joking? Oh God. Why isn’t he joking like he generally does? Maybe a reaction would keep him quiet but what kind? A yes? A no? Or a laugh?

"you know better than others that I can fuck, literally too sometimes." You exclaim hoping to judge if this is really serious or just some sort of prank. If the latter, then it's not funny. If the former, then you might have to consider moving out. You get up from his bed to grab towels and bathroom needs."Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. Maybe I need to prove to someone that I'm an alpha." Gen regrets saying that. Your hands have stopped as you look at him which rarely happens. You never do one thing at a time. Fuck! You’re still looking at him. Gen unlocks one of his hands and scratches his jaw. 

"well, you chose a very wrong person to fuck, to prove then. I despise alphas. I would be much happier if you weren't one," That’s a little harsh, even from you. 

"as if a beta like you could get me hard." You keep the shampoo and conditioner bottle on the desk with much greater force than needed. Here it comes. . .Oh okay.

"Well, have you been with Beta before?" Gen tries to dodge the bullet because this is not the direction of conversation he wants to go. "that's exactly my point-" 

"an omega?" you pause and take a few steps towards him "An alpha?"  

“Wha—t? What’re — you talking — about?” Gen blabbers. He does not step away as you come closer but he has the urge to do so.

"god. Please find someone else to lose your virginity." You turn around the moment you finish deciphering his goal. Gen starts to growl underneath everything that comes out of his mouth now. "me being an alpha won't affect you being a beta if we were to fuck. and I don't wanna hurt an omega or alpha—His patience is thinning out too. This really isn’t the way he wanted this to go.

"But you'd hurt me?"

"That's not what I meant,"

"Are you a virgin, Gen Narumi?"

"Yes—I mean no." He glitches and now he can not look at you.

"Which is it?"

". . ." 

"I'm too tired to think about it now," you express with an exasperated sigh walking towards the bathroom.

"Is that a yes?"

"maybe be,"

"forget it." His tone is too sharp, demanding for someone who was begging you to fuck.

"What?" You stop before entering the bathroom and turn your head to him. "forget it" He repeats. You tilt your head, "But you just said. . ." you are starting to understand what this is really about. He does not want to fuck you neither want to lose his virginity or whatever he is trying to protect. It is his alpha ego acting up. He wants you to say yes so that he can reject you so that it strokes his alpha-nature. That’s it.

Your face distorts in disdain in his dense thought process.

Gen Narumi squints his eyes and then blinks. When he opens his eyes you are in front of him. You push him onto the nearest bed, your bed, and sit on his lap, legs folded and creating a dip on the mattress under the pressure of it, thighs grazing his pelvis.

"what're you doing?" Gen gasps as you let your palms touch his chest. He is gonna explode. His heart is beating so fast. You can feel it. Oh My God. You didn’t think this through.

"Well, let's see if a beta can get you hard or not." 

You undress your top. You are not an omega. There is no stench. But your scent is so muted that he has to either influence you to emit some or get closer to inhale. The first option is a no-no because he would not like to anger you while you are on his lap. So, he has to get closer. Wait, closer than this? The smell from that night threatens his senses and memory. Before the realization fully hits his brain, his hand moves in your direction but you stop him. Did you do something wrong? Both hands are now aligned with his. You notice how your hands are different from his. His fingers are rough and raw. Yours are at least, well-maintained. You slowly interlace his fingers with yours folding his hands at the back. He could easily swat you away but he is not doing that. You lean into his face and he does not move away so you take that as a yes to lick from his collarbones up to his chin and immediately pull away. 

Narumi’s eyes are closed, head still tilted. Without giving him a moment of reprieve you let your lips graze on his, just barely, and pull away just a little, wet yours and thereby skimming at his bottom lip in the process. He opens his eyes, slowly looks at you, and then your lips. He is breathing like a tired puppy. He inclines, perhaps for a kiss but you sway your head giving him access to the side of your neck. As you graze your cheek against his jaw, his hands that are still at the back are held by you but it is slowly getting lithe as you feel his lips on your shoulders, hot tongue on your skin, and then a sharp graze of his fang from your shoulder up to the back of your ear. You tip your head down for a moment feeling goosebumps arise on your skin barely allowing him any moments of reprieve, only permitting a rare moment to breathe. You watch Narumi intently, unafraid to make things awkward, but Narumi is too distracted by his inner crisis to notice the amused stare mere centimeters from his face; studying him.

The tip of your tongue curls slowly but forcefully, tracing the plump of your bottom lip before sliding across Gen’s own and trailing the roof of his mouth. Eyes watching intently. Controlled. Curious. Amused. But then you abruptly pull away, lips shiny and wet. Before Narumi can ask why, your lips curl in on themselves, hiding a smug smile. It looks like you can’t catch your breath — like if you do, you will erupt into laughter. But a lopsided grin finally breaks free, tugging at your lips, when your eyes flash down to Narumi’s torso and back up.

Narumi freezes, heart, hammering in his ribs.

He’s hard.

“That was fast,” You smirk — and you stand. “I’m going to shower now.” you release your grip from his hands and get off his lap.  Gen watches you go into the bathroom and looks down at his boner biting his bottom lip; a click of his tongue follows as he checks the time. It is too late to go out now.

when you come out of the shower he is not there. A part of you worries if he got into a fight or something or maybe he is with his big hot alpha friends bragging about how he turned you down. You hit the bed with a thud, exhaustion creeping up from your toe to head, slowly. You do not give a damn what he says about you to other alphas or anyone in general. A beta will always have to watch out for themselves. They can not rely upon anyone, not even their kind because most betas are dumb enough to mingle with alphas and get turned into omega with or without consent.

Look what fate landed upon your mother when she took an alpha as her mate. You let out a wry chuckle. Sleep seems like a foreign land somewhere in heaven.

[ two. ]

It has been two days since Narumi left. Some of his batchmates have started to ask you during recess and breaks between classes. You answered them the same thing every time. “I don’t know.” or “he didn’t tell me before going.” or “How should I know? I’m not his mate who can sense it. Go find his mate.” or “he didn’t take his phone. So I don’t know.” truly it had not bothered you until Professor Shinomiya showed up at your doorstep asking for his whereabouts. You politely and patiently answered him the same very thing that you have been telling anyone who asked about Narumi. For a hated unmated alpha he sure is popular.

On the third day, late at night, there is a knock on your door. You go and open without hesitation. Narumi enters wearing the same clothing he wore the last time you saw him, only a little fade. His hair is wet and it is not raining outside so he comes back after going missing for two days, freshly showered. Bloodshot eyes, hair messed up, and mayhem all over his body.

“Welcome back.” You say but Gen does not say anything but goes straight to his study desk. He has a test coming up. Professor Shinimiya said that so you would contact him if you had the means. Your day-to-day notebook is on his study table, under the stack of his books, and guess what? That is exactly what you need the most right now because without it you would not be able to work on your applications and resumes. It has all the details and info you. The moment you touch the stack of books, Narumi’s hands are over yours.

“Are you—-? Where were you ?” You ask and For the first time in your life, you feel that something inside you went missing. When did that happen?

Gen stands up but you do not scoot away as he closes the gap between him and you. That’s what he likes about you. You were never afraid of him. You never considered him as a threat like others. Now, that he is closer you can smell several mixes of strong musky aromas. It is odd. You have been close to him before, but never once knew his scent. Is he in a rut?  Or did something bad happen? Did he. . .? Was he attacked by a gang of omegas or alphas? It makes your stomach turn thinking about whatever the probable reason for such a state as his. 

“Oh? You can tell?” There is a few inches gap between his face and yours. His palm is still intact on yours. The grip is lithe yet you don’t move your hand away.

“Gen? What? OH. God.” You had to swallow since tears threatened your eyes. “Are you okay?” A trembling whisper is all it takes for him to finally say something.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“Just leave for a few days. Go to some friend’s house or something,” He is still sitting, his eyes are on the open book now but his hand is still over yours.

“Why? What did I do?” You ask trying to move away your hand but in a swift moment, he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer as he stands up. 

“I’m — in a rut. So, I need you to stay away from me.”

“But — I’m a beta. You don’t need to worry.”

That is funny. It is because of you that he is such a shipwreck now. It was your pheromones that fucked him up. It was you who calmed him with scents when he came home injured. It was you who had no control over pheromones when drunk. It was you all along and despite that, he can not bring himself to hate you. Why can’t he hate you when he wants to? He even took a whole bunch of suprresants before coming back here. Gen laughs at your naive sentiment so blaring that you take a few steps back but he yanks you back to himself, a little too forceful than he intended to be resulting in you on top of him sprawled on the cold floor.

“Ohh? Why do you think I rub my fangs against your neck? You don’t think I do that for fun, do you?” You are still trying to get away from his grip but he is strong. He is stronger than you have known all these two years. “Are you too dumb to know that if I bite and knot you enough times you will turn into an o—

Thwack!

Narumi’s head is tilted away from yours. The exposed side of his cheek is red, his ears are thrumming and he has to force himself to keep his eyes open. Fuck. You’re strong. That was one hell of a slap.

“I know that. I’ve known that all my life. You don’t need to tell me that,” you yell looking down at his t-shirt. A cry is at the brink when you see a few drops of water fall on his top.  You try your best not to fall apart in front of him but it is just too much. Hearing such a thing what your mother went through and then slowly becoming a victim of it is nothing but a slow poison. You refuse to live the life your mother led. You refuse to owe your existence to an alpha. 

Narumi’s lips form a crescent but it is quickly clouded when your body starts to shake. You cover your face as you start to crumble like Rome in front of him. 

Folding his legs he sits up. His hands rest on the floor to support himself as he whispers, “Hey, stop crying.”  His voice is calm, pupils back to normal, not red anymore. “Please” He insists. “I’d hate to use my pheromones on you, especially now” 

You slowly look up wiping off your tears with your hand.

“Tell me y/n have I ever used my pheromones on you?” 

“No. Never.” Your hands fall on his chest. “But I still hate you. Why would you say something like that?” You stifle a sob and continue. “I know. I’ve never opened up to you—-” Your voice turns up, anger laced underneath. “But never did you. You think I don’t know—- that alphas bully you? Oh please! I know better than anyone what an alpha’s beating looks like.” You inhale a long breath, “I mean I have known that my entire life. I’ve seen my mother all my life— and I can’t see someone else getting hurt because of me . . . your voice breaks into a cry again and you inhale so as not to cry anymore but what good that would do now that he has seen the core of vulnerability in you that was tucked inside carefully with layer upon layer.

“Well,” Narumi starts to speak. “Save me then. Save me from this torment.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Narumi jocks down to meet your gaze. “Be my God and I will be your devotee.”

You try to get on your feet. Gen’s eyes follow you, each of your movements until you are standing on your own. He is still sitting on the floor in the same stance, laid back and amused.  He is sure you will say no. He has done this before. Back then you thought he was speaking out of delirium but that night when you saved his life he felt like he found a God to worship. He remembers saying, “I think I love you, Y/N L/N.” and you scoffed at him saying in no world an alpha like you would feel that about a beta like you when there is a bevy of omegas around him.

“Okay.” You murmur.

Gen’s mouth is parted. His eyes are big in surprise. “But just so you know, I’m hard to please,” you mumble with a sniff getting out of the room to make a call.

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

MY LITTLE OMEGA

KINKTOBER DAY 26 - OMEGAVERSE WITH RAYMOND LEON

Pairing.| Raymond Leon x fem!reader

Summary.| You go into heat early and your Alpha is forced to come home to relieve you.

Warnings.| Dubcon, heat, rutting, abo, slightly degrading, p in v, biting.

Word count.| 2k

Notes.| Okay I never read or write this type of thing, but it was interesting to do.

You shamefully humped Raymond’s pillow, his shirt covering the entirety of your head as you heavily inhaled his scent. But it was never enough, you needed him completely. When he entered your shared home, you immediately picked up on his strong sweet scent of midnight rain. The Omega inside of you wanted to run to him, but the anger you could sense in him made you loudly whimper as your hips rocked in a sloppy manner. 

The smell of your heat was fierce to Raymond’s nostrils, the scent of wet rocks infested his body as he strided down the hall. His head snapped to the nesting room, his jawline sharp as he stomped to you. The door was already wide open, your body completely bare as you mewled out, trying to reveal yourself of your agony. 

His menaceful Alpha voice rolled out your name. Like he casted a spell on you, your body froze, his damp pillow locked in between your thighs. Slowly, he stepped to you, his compelling blue eyes lingered over your exposed backside and how quickly it trembled to his touch. 

“I could smell you from across town, you’ve gone into heat early, why?” Raymond questioned, his tone threatening as he dropped to his knees onto the mattress of the platform bed. 

His large hand pulled the shirt off of your head. As you looked back at him with fearful eyes, he blinked at how full of tears they were. You were lost for words, stammering like a child caught eating from the cookie jar. 

“I-I don't know” you stammered quietly. 

“Don’t lie to me…” Raymond growled in a low volume, clicking his tongue as his hand rolled up and down your spine. 

“I forgot to take my meds!” You easily confessed, your voice full of guilt and humiliation. 

Raymond snarled at you, you whined painfully in return. 

The reason you were on suppressants was because Raymond had a busy month of work. If you went into heat likewise to him going into rut, it would ruin his schedule completely. But with him traveling down south without you, you were highly emotional of being all alone in your home. Even though Raymond would just blame it on you, it was a common side effect of the suppressants to be dependent on their bonded mate. The thoughts of him being gone for almost two weeks put you into a state of despair.

When you woke up from a deep sleep to realize you had forgotten to take your suppressants, your heart raced. It was only an hour late, but you had heard stories of Omega’s missing out on the time frame of only a few minutes and suffering the consequences. Those were only rumors though. Yet the chances were low but were now your reality. 

The moment you felt the first sign, you were in denial and continued on with your day. But when the fever sweats began to drip, cramps formed into a blade under your skin and slick trickled down your legs, you found yourself stuck in mayhem on what to do. 

The obvious solution was to call Raymond. But the knowing answer of him punishing you felt too horrifying and humiliating. Raymond did not allow you to possess any toys. For his arrogant behavior questioned why you’d need such mechanics when you had him to relieve you. So you just tried to block it all out. Two days you successfully spent in agony before he finally had a chance to call you. 

He could hear it in your tone despite the fact that you chose to use minimal words. 

“Little one, is there something you need to tell me?” he replied, resisting his growl over the line. 

You confessed immediately and Raymond almost hung up the phone just as quick. If his primal urges didn’t pull him back towards you like gravity, he would have made you suffer alone. But instead, like a good Alpha, he sped back home to care for you.  

Those silk-like hands teased your skin. Trailing up and down then side to side over your skin. Your back arched as you murmured out his name, almost foaming at the mouth. Suddenly, he slapped your rear harshly, making you yelp. 

“You’ve ruined my investigation little one… Do not think this will be enjoyable for you” Raymond growled. 

“I’m sorry Alpha!” You cried and lowered your body onto the bed as you hid your face in shame under his pillow. 

“How long have you been in heat?” Raymond tilted his head towards you as he slid off his leather jacket. 

“T-three days now” you spoke in hushed tones. 

“Fucking stupid bitch” Raymond muttered to himself. 

But you heard him perfectly, you whined loudly and squirmed over the mattress. Raymond quickly stripped nude and wrapped his front against your back. You purred out, his warmth eased your pain, bending your neck back as your back arched, you moved your ass into his erection.

“You’re so fucking lucky I wasn’t the only one on the case. But like they’ll be able to sniff out shit without me” Raymond snarled, nipping his teeth at the skin of your neck. “You’ve gotten my cock all riled up, your scent is fucking intoxicating!” He groaned out, burying his nose into your soft hair. 

“M’sorry!” You repeat yourself loudly.

“You’re gonna have to beg me for it” Raymond whispered into your ear. 

“No Raymond please! M-M’sorry! I’ve already been suffering for days!” you exclaimed, shaking your head at the thought of him tormenting you again. 

During many of your heats together, Raymond enjoyed playing with your state of agony at first. Your performance of begging for his touch was exhilarating. Whimpers and whines were likewise to angelic music to his ears. The way your needy hands tried to pull him towards you was amusing. 

You tried to wiggle your ass against his crotch but he held you down and kept his hips at distance. 

“You should have called me the moment you felt it” Raymond lectured.  

“I didn’t want to disturb you. I thought I could hold it off!” You explained pathetically, mewling like a baby. 

“Stupid Omega” Raymond insulted. Immediately, you whined again and Raymond pouted at you. “This is why you need me, little one…” he explained in a condescending tone. 

A hum was your only response as you nodded your head eagerly. It was true, you depended on him the moment you laid eyes on him. The bond was heavenly, the way your heart skipped a beat as you caught him watching you, almost ready to eat you alive. But it didn’t take you long to realize how frightening he could be, but then he could also be so loving. If you remained good, he’d treat you well. So it was time to comply and be his good girl. 

“Now, beg” Raymond ordered. 

“Alpha” you mewled dramatically.

“Yes Omega?” He teased. 

“Please! I need your cock inside of me, my walls are clenching so harshly! I need to squeeze around you” you spat out, licking your lips at the idea of his dick buried inside of you. Your eyes were fluttering, you felt like you were already drunk on his cock. 

“Sounds like a you problem” Raymond grinned.

Your scent was matchless, like the uncharted sanctuaries of earth that all explorers desired to uncover. Secretly, he could spend days pressing his nose to your hair as his hands would caress your waist. 

“Alpha please! Show me my place, remind me who I belong to” you begged, twisting your upper body to look back at him.  

“Remind you huh?” Raymond grunted, possessiveness flashing through his ocean blue eyes. You shuddered, fearing that you had made a poor choice of words. Trying to steer his suspicions elsewhere, you ended up just stammering to yourself. “You forget who you belong to?” Raymond tilted his head at you. 

“No!” you denied fearfully. 

“But you tell me to remind you, so you have forgotten, have you not?” Raymond questioned, his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. 

“No… I’m just trying to-” you squeaked, becoming too timid to speak. 

Raymond flipped you over and licked his lips. Your eyes felt almost compelled to look down to his member and you grumbled out, eagerly desiring to devour it. How could he make you beg in a moment where he craved you just as desperately. 

“Look at how fucking pathetic you look, drooling over my member…” Raymond scoffed condescendingly, his body stood tall as he smirked down at you. 

“Can I touch it?” you asked softly, eyes stuck on his throbbing member that leaked of precum. 

“Yes little one” he spoke softly, warmly. 

Quickly, you moved onto your knees and your hand reached out. You stroked him softly and slowly, gradually you picked up the pace and firmness. Raymond breathed out, his eyes fluttering as he watched you please his cock. 

After maneuvering you onto your back, Raymond kissed you passionately as he lined himself up to your entrance. Whilst keeping eye contact, Raymond pushed his member inside of you effortlessly, you were always so eager to take him completely. Then your muscles would contract after you had consumed him. 

Like animals, Raymond pounded himself into your clenching walls. You cried out in relief as you felt the tension in your core be replaced by pleasure. In your ear, Raymond whispered sweet words which had you gasping for more. Your fingertips ran up and down his broad back, nails teased at his firm skin. 

Other Alphas laughed when they found out Raymond had bonded with a Omega. Because well, Raymond lacked that caring trait. However, Raymond quite enjoyed being bonded with a Omega. Were you unbearable dependent on him? Yes. But Raymond had dated Alpha’s in the past and it felt like a constant battle for dominance. 

You however always submitted to him. You always knew your place. He’d never admit it, but Raymond enjoyed the comfort you gave him, likewise to the nurture he’d show you. The moments of intimacy and comfort you shared were relaxing and reassuring. 

“I haven’t taken my pills” Raymond confessed. 

Usually it was the females who took birth control. But Raymond’s ego made him believe that they would disobey him and stop their medications in hopes of being bred by him. But after being bonded to you, the idea of you being bred excited him. He had no worries that his offspring would be anything besides Alphas. 

“Do you think you’re ready to bear my pups?” Raymond questioned sternly.

“Raymond?” You whimpered, panic flashing through your eyes. 

“I’m going to breed you this heat. You’ll carry my child, you got it?” Raymond made known. 

“Yes Alpha!” You replied, immediately submitting yourself to him. 

This is what you wanted, this is what you were made for. To be his little obedient Omega and raise his children. It had felt like an eternity since you’d met him, even though it had only been a couple of months. 

“Good… You’re so fucking compelling, you know that right?” Raymond groaned out, feeling his rut pulsing. “If any other Alpha dares to sniff in this direction I’ll rip his fucking head off” Raymond snarled, a wave of jealousy and possessiveness crashed over him. 

“I belong to you Raymond!” You assured, cunt squeezing him so tightly. 

“Good girl, my obedient little Omega” Raymond praised with a wicked grin. 

Swiftly, you’re flipped onto your stomach and Raymond buried himself in completely. You moan out as your orgasm crashed over you, His teeth latched directly in between your shoulder and neck and you whined out, but the pain was coated in extra pleasure. 

Raymond groaned onto your flesh as he felt his member expand inside of you. His movements were forced to slow down to a complete stop as his seed shot deep into your womb. With the both of you painted in a coat of sweat, you’re carefully shifted onto your side, Raymond’s body connected to yours. His teeth release your skin and Raymond kisses your heated cheek before he buried his head into the crook of your neck. 

“I love you Raymond” you sniffled, eyes still blurred from your post orgasmic state. 

“Shush… Go to sleep little one” Raymond murmured.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Thank you for answering my sick reader request. Can I please ask for a part 2 wherein Yandere Nanami nurses his sick darling back to health and by the end of their sickness they at least trust them enough to sleep and cuddle beside them

I don't really like doing part 2s because I love seeing ppl suffer from cliffhangers, but I'll do it this one time.

And Let Yourself Heal

You don't find anything to say as Kento continues to be patient with you. This morning, he was up before you to cook you a warm breakfast. When you opened your already exhausted eyes, he was standing at your bedside with a wide tray of warm breakfast. He gently fed you every single mouthful, making sure you slowly chewed each bite, and even let you have a glass of strawberry lemonade since you insisted on one.

He tucked you under the sheets once more when you felt the urge to go back to sleep. And he was there when you woke up again midday to help bring you to the bathroom to clean yourself up. For once, he was actually respectful of your space and let you do what you needed without him hovering over you this time. He said he didn't want you stressed over nothing and how it's bad for a healing body to be pushed to its limits.

When you finished with your bathroom routine and got into freshly washed clothes, he had your favorite tv show on and had you sit on the couch with a cup of unsweetened tea to help your hunger before he finished with lunch. All of this for you. It almost seemed like he was overdoing it for you, but when you looked into his eyes, you could tell he meant every gesture from the heart. His sleeves have been rolled up since the morning and he doesn't plan to relax until the sun goes down and it's time for you to go to bed once more.

Your mind was clouded with judgement with how Kento was treating you, and couldn't focus on the show. Instead, you watched him chop the fruits and vegetables on the cutting board. He seemed to try and perfect every cut he made for the fruit so you can enjoy it to the fullest without any problems when eating it. And the vegetables were minced nicely before they went into the heated skillet. The aroma floating through the kitchen into the living room settled your heart in ways you didn't feel was possible.

Kento turned his head to check on you before double taking when he sees you already staring at him. A nervous smile spreads on his face as he brings you the chopped fruit. "You pestered me about getting these the last time I went grocery shopping, so I decided to get them for you this time. Take your time with these, please." He gently informs you, placing the bowl of fruit on the table in front of you before leaving back into the kitchen.

You felt conflicted by the time dinner started. You were sure Kento hasn't eaten all day and has been putting all of his time and energy into taking care of you. You really shouldn't feel like this, but you were worried. Worried he was taking it too far for you and for himself. You watch him carefully organize a bite on the plate onto the eating utensil with a small smile on his face before showing it to you for you to eat. You hesitate at first, but still take the bite, slowly chewing. "Are you alright? Is it not to your liking? More salt?" You shake your head and let him wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

"Then what is it?" He mutters and gives you your cup of water. You hesitate to tell him, but then settle for telling him the half truth. "Maybe a little more garlic next time." He nods in appreciation and gathers another bite for you. When you blink, it's bedtime. For some reason, he always seemed to know when you naturally get drowsy at night, and makes that your scheduled bedtime. He's currently folding the covers underneath your chin for you to be the most comfortable when you sleep. His steady hands carefully take in every detail of the sheets to make sure you're alright.

You turn your back to him, closing your eyes to finally rest. When he finishes, he sits back up and rests is hands on his lap with a content sigh. You were way more compliant than any other time he's tried to take care of you. Maybe you were finally turning over a new stone, allowing him to show you the love you deserve and need. He stares at you from a distance, the distance he's always wanted to close. And without thinking, his hand raises back up on its own and gently rubs at your back. But you don't do anything. You didn't seem to tense up at all when he did this and Kento felt his heart leap with excitement.

Without trying to bother you, he decides to try and push it further. He waits a few moments and stops touching you before scooting closer to you. Nothing. With gentle movements, he lays down on the same side you're laying on and stares at your backside. And if he stares long enough, he'll realize that this is exactly how it looks in his dreams to lay in bed with you. This is genuinely all he's ever wanted. He refuses to ruin this moment by touching your waist or arms. He'll wait until you allow him to move closer to you. Allow him to touch your face, your sides when you're awake. And maybe then, he will have your consent to make the relationship bloom into something even more.

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Tentatively

Summary:

You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely.

Contains: Fem Reader, Death Mention (but only as much as you would expect given the source material) Word Count: 2,235 Read on AO3

You still feel strange a few hours after leaving the chatroom. Grim, who despite all evidence to the contrary, is actually the Grim Reaper, left pretty abruptly after telling you there is something incredibly wrong with your soul and you are unsure if you should be concerned or offended about the whole thing. 

After a disappointing meal of microwaved leftovers and an attempt at enjoying a relaxing bath despite your apartment’s abysmal water temperature, you find yourself laying back on your bed and staring up at the all too uninteresting ceiling as you wait for your hair to dry. The window above your desk is open and the cool breeze is pleasant, but you’re already getting the sense that you will have trouble getting to sleep tonight, despite Grim’s uncharacteristic insistence that you get some rest after today. 

There’s something so lonely about these summer nights, lonely enough that you find yourself scrolling through your contacts list, looking for someone ( anyone ) to talk to. Calling your parents this late will only make them worry, and all of your friends from uni have much better sleep schedules than you do and will already be out cold. You toss your phone onto the vacant pillow beside you and let out a sigh, that really only leaves one option. 

Hoisting yourself from the bed, you walk over to the desk and grab your laptop. Quickly tapping open the chatroom app and turning off your camera before hitting the call button. You push your lamp and pot-plant out of the way to leave room for the laptop on your bedside table and lay back down as you wait for an answer. 

You spend the first seven rings worrying that he won't pick up, by the eighth you are proven wrong.

“I thought I already told you to go to sleep.” He says in lieu of a greeting. 

All the lethargic energy in the room suddenly dissipates, and your mouth tugs up in a smile, “Hello to you too”

“I was being serious.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t my boss.” He huffs, “I am your reaper.” “Oh?” You reply, smirking to yourself, “ My reaper, are you? Just mine?” “No! I- I’m just assigned to you. That does not mean-”

You laugh, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just teasing, thank you for picking up, I mean it.” It’s quiet, but you swear that you hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the call, “I- well, I just wanted to be certain that you were not suffering any side effects from the soul connection.” He clears his throat, “You…aren’t…are you?”

“I’m having trouble sleeping, but I don’t think I can blame that on you. I suppose I feel a little jittery? But that makes sense given my emotional state right now.” “What is it?” “What’s what?” “Your uh- your emotional state.”

“Oh.” You say, feeling your heart beating a rapid tattoo behind your ribs, “Well, I dunno. I’m a little overwhelmed, I suppose. I really just thought you were an edgy cosplayer, and I mean, you still are but you are also literally the Grim Reaper, so I’m still just dealing with that I guess.”

“That is perfectly normal, then. Though you should have been feeling frightened the moment I contacted you, your reaction was quite delayed.” “Hey! I never said ‘frightened’ I said overwhelmed! That’s a completely different emotion.”

He chuckles, “Unable to stop thinking about me, then?” “That also isn't what I said.” Though, he isn’t entirely wrong, “I’m just worried about how I'm going to focus at work tomorrow when I’ll be spending the whole day looking over my shoulder to make sure some white-haired twink isn't about to commit murder upon me.” 

“White-haired what? ” “Twinnnnk~” You reply, “Look it up, I’m sure that will keep you busy for a few hours.” “I hardly need to be kept busy , I have important work to do.” “Like stealing my soul.” “Yours and others, I do not just follow you around all day.” He says dryly, “You are not that important. Also, I will not be murdering you. I am pushing you in the correct direction, one you have stubbornly been avoiding for far too long.” You hum quietly to yourself, reaching out to pat your cat where he sits next to you on the bed, “How was I meant to die anyway? Just out of curiosity, since you seem to know everything about it.” He doesn't answer for some time, and the deafening silence makes you regret even posing the question. 

“Do you really want to know?” He finally asks, “Most people never find out, because unlike you they die when they are supposed to.” “Hit me with it, Grimmy.” He groans, “Do not call me that.” then you hear him sigh, deeply, contemplatively, “You were supposed to die of food poisoning.” “Oh.” You reply, feeling your heart sink a little, “Damn, that sucks. That’s so…boring”

“Death often is.” “I guess, well, I guess I was hoping that the way I die might be interesting at least. What food would have poisoned me anyway?” “Ham sandwich.” “Yikes. Was the ham poisoned or something?” “No, just expired. On a related note, you do need to clean out your fridge more often.” He’s right. Your fridge is pretty nasty, and it kind of always has been. It’s a very low priority on your list of tasks.

“Grim?”

“Yes?”

You swallow, unsure how to phrase the real question hiding in the recesses of your mind, “could you…I dunno, kill me gently, if it comes to it? I mean, I just-“ you roll over onto your side, making eye contact with the black screen of your laptop, “If I have to die, I don’t want it to hurt.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then he replies, “I don’t want it to hurt you either.”

“That’s…sweet, Thank you.” “Lacking desire to see you suffer does not make me sweet , it makes me considerate .” He sighs irritably, “More importantly, does this mean you’re finally willing to hand over your soul?” You laugh, “ No! I just- I dunno, I had a weird day and I'm feeling kinda existential now.” You look through your window, staring up at the night sky, “Do you feel that way sometimes, or is it just a human thing?”

“I do not see how that’s any of your business.” “C’mon, Grim. Just play along for once, get silly with it.” You hear him huff on the other end of the line, you can picture the exact pouty face he must be making right now, “I have been a reaper as long as I can remember, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life, there is little for me to be existential about.”

“Hm.” 

“What?” He says brusquely, “What are you ‘hm-ing’ about?”

“The thought of having one job for the rest of my life is exactly the sort of thing that makes me existential, that’s all.” “Well you don’t have to work at the same job for the rest of your life, so what exactly are you complaining about?” “I mean, the rest of my life might only be a few more days.” You say, “Provided you win our bet of course, which you will not be doing.” “Do not doubt me, Sunshine. You may come to regret it.” You giggle, “Doubtful.” There’s a rustling sound on the other end of the call, you can only assume that he is also lying in bed right now, “I am quite literally death, and I even gave you concrete proof of this fact this evening.” his voice turns quiet, dare you think it, wistful, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” You shrug, even though he can’t see you, “You aren’t very scary.”

“I am going to take your soul .” “You are going to try and take my soul.” a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And even if you do, you’ve already promised to do it gently .” “I promised not to hurt you, I never said anything about being gentle .” 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see the difference between those two statements.” He groans, and when he speaks again his voice is muffled. You suspect he has his face buried in a pillow, “You are infuriating. When I leave the chatroom for the evening I assume that I am done with you, I was not prepared for you to insist on continuing our conversation well into the night.”

“What, are you tired?” All goes quiet for a moment, and then, “No. Are you?” “Nope.” “Hmph, you should be at this hour, especially after a day of work.”

“I- well, I dunno…”

You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely. You are tired, you have to be up at 5:00 to get ready for work tomorrow morning, but the idea of saying goodbye, of hanging up, makes something ache deep inside you. Something inside the very soul he wants to steal. 

“You don’t know, what?”

“Huh?” Grim huffs again, “You said, ‘i dunno’ and then stopped talking, which is very out of character for you, by the way.” “Oh? Did you miss me? Were even those brief seconds of silence enough to make you realize how much you love hearing my voice?” “I will hang up.” 

“Don’t.” You say before you have time to think better of it, “Please.”

“I-“ he clears his throat, “Only if you can act normally for the rest of our conversation.”

“I’m plenty normal, you’re the weird one.”

“What’s weird, how am I weird?”

You roll onto your back, staring up at the celing, “Oh i dunno, just the whole ‘I am death incarnate! I have come for your soul! I will connect my soul to yours! ’ schtik” 

“You know fully well that it is not a…what did you call it? A schtik?” He pronounces the word completely wrong, “Whatever that is, it is not one of those. I am death incarnate, I am here for you soul, and you were literally an active part in the soul connection.”

“Oh, about that soul connection thing, by the way.” He scoffs, “Your ability to change the subject at a whim is still strong as ever i see.” 

“I know, I’m very talented- anyway! I wanted to ask if you can do anything cool now that we have a soul link or whatever.” “I have already told you, I cannot control your body. As entertaining as it would be to embarrass you publicly, even my exceptional abilities could not do that” 

“Oh kay , how about something easier, then?” You feel the warmth of your cat as he snuggles up against your side and instinctively reach out to pat him, “Read my mind, go on!” “I cannot do that.” “C’mon, Grimmy, give it a go!” You squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m thinking about something real hard right now.” He sighs, “Are you thinking about your cat?” “ Whaaaat? How did you know?!”

“I didn’t know , i guessed. I can’t read your mind, but i am still attuned with your soul.” His voice has turned uncharacteristically soft, he’s almost whispering, “It… flutters …when you are happy, and your cat makes you happy. So I guessed…”

“So you’re a soul reader, then?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach also feels oddly fluttery right now.

“That is not a thing. You’re just making things up now.”

“Try again.” You say, your mind unwittingly flooded with thoughts of soft white hair and judgemental red eyes. Of hands you wish were bare, of sharp toothed smiles. Your heart slows to a languid rhythm, and something you aren’t ready to put a name to curls warmly in your belly. You close your eyes, softly this time, and breathe, “What am i thinking about now?”

He goes silent for a long time, you can hear the slow, even draw of his breath. You can picture him laying back on his bed, hair splayed over the pillow, brow creased in concentration and you wonder if he is thinking about you too. After what feels like an age, he finally answers, “your…plant?”

You burst into laughter and any tension in the air shatters, “My plant?! What about my soul was screaming plant just then?”

“Well, I don’t know! It was just happy again, happier, even and I assumed that you were smart enough not to just think about your cat again.” 

“Yeah, you got me.” You lie, “it was my cat again.”

“Hells, every single day you find a new way to get under my skin.” He sighs, and despite his earlier statement, his next words come out almost fondly , “You need sleep, mortal.”

“Yeah.” You reply, feeling that ache tug at you again, “I probably do.”

“I will talk to you tomorrow, that is, if you survive until then.”

That gets a laugh out of you, and you can’t tell if that was his intention or if he was being completely serious, “I look forward to it. Remember to murder me nicely, Grim.”

“As nicely as I can, I swear.” You can hear his smile, “Goodnight, Sunshine.”

[mononijikayu]

“i canʼt hold enough of you in my hands.” — gojo satoru.

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: l'amore dice ciao (slow take) by armando trovajoli

NOTE: i knew i said i wasn't going to write more, but i ended up writing this because i ended the other one so sadly that i realized i needed something that was genuinely happy. so i did that. i'll be writing more within the next eleven days. but we'll see, depending on my schedule!!! i love you!!! enjoy <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE, BRINGING HOME A BABY IN YOUR HUMBLE ABODE. You had never expected to be so overprotective over anything in your entire life, especially not on a simple car ride. But here you were, cradling your most precious treasure in your arms, heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and overwhelming love. Your newborn son, Satoshi, nestled against your chest, was the very embodiment of fragility and new beginnings.

The car ride from the hospital to your home felt like an eternity. Every bump in the road, every sudden stop or start, sent a jolt of worry through you. You tightened your hold on Satoshi, making sure his tiny head was well-supported, his small body swaddled snugly in a soft blanket. The world outside seemed too chaotic, too unpredictable for someone so small and innocent.

Beside you, your husband, Gojo Satoru sat with his bright blue eyes fixed lovingly on the little bundle in your arms. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by a focused intensity, every bit the protective father. 

He kept glancing between you, sleeping Satoshi, the road ahead, and Ichiji who seemed more tense than usual. Satoru’s tension could be felt from that far, you suppose. But you can’t fault your husband at all. His hand occasionally reaches over to rest reassuringly on your knee, as though it was to calm him and you simultaneously. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress.

You nodded, but the anxiety still lingered. “I’m just… it’s so surreal. He’s so tiny, so perfect. I want to make sure everything is perfect for him.”

Satoru’s cerulean eyes softened, and he reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You’re already doing an amazing job. He’s lucky to have you as his mama, darling.”

Satoshi stirred slightly, making a small cooing sound that melted your heart. You looked down at his tiny face, marveling at his delicate features. He looked exactly like Satoru, that’s what his mother said. And you could definitely see it. His small mouth quirked joyously the way his father does. His white–silver locks were as tender and soft as Satoru's own. His chubby cheeks were warm too. And you were so in love. So entirely absorbed by your love for your son. 

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure. 

The car pulled into the driveway of your little home, and Satoru quickly got out to open the door for you. He extended his hand to help you out, his touch steadying you as you carefully stepped onto the pavement. You whisper a thankful retort to your husband, who grinned at you and turned to Ichiji, who nearly jumped when Satoru thanked him genuinely. 

Satoru led the way as you walked into your home, his six-eyes trying to check for any changes in the house. When you both got in, it seemed safe enough but then again, Satoru led you to the nursery. Every inch of the nursery was built by your husband. He was excited about trying to make it as bright as possible, as colorful as possible and he had meticulously prepared in the weeks leading up to Satoshi’s birth. 

The quaint little room was better than you could have imagined it. Satoru had not wanted to show you anything until the baby arrived. It was a surprise for both you and your little boy. It was just a perfect little haven of soft pastels and gentle light. You were impressed with how it all blended together, how he had managed to put everything into a theme. But you knew that’s just how much your husband loves your son. Looking at him, you wondered how much more you could love this man, how much more love your heart can take for him.

“Did you do everything from scratch?” You whispered to him, mindful of your little boy. 

He hummed in reply. “But it’s not just me. ‘miki and ‘gumi both helped, y’know? I couldn’t have done it without them!”

You smiled when you heard that. When you told the two that you were expecting, it was a whirlwind.  Tsumiki was jumping up in joy, Megumi seemed stunned that there was to be a baby. You didn't expect Megumi to have a loud reaction, he was always more quiet. But you knew that overtime, he was just as excited as his elder sister. He showed that through his little acts, like asking about the baby, asking if you both needed anything. He was tender like that.

You wouldn’t say that your pregnancy was a dream. It was hard. You were nauseated all the time, you were crying day and night, you couldn’t keep food down. But your two little ones did what they could to help you out. Megumi knew that you couldn’t eat much, but he would make sure there was already hot tea and some slices of fruit you can eat for you to enjoy in the mornings.

Tsumiki made sure that she helped you out with some small tasks Satoru allowed you to do, that she could embrace you when you feel like crying about some little things. They were both wonderful with you throughout the pregnancy, they’ve always been wonderful to you since you met them. 

At this moment, you wanted to see them both. And you were sure they’d like to see you and the little one. But you knew that they won’t arrive until tomorrow. You were thankful that your mother took Megumi and Tsumiki with her until you could come home from the hospital.

You gently laid little Satoshi in his crib, tucking the blanket around him. Satoru stood beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist carefully. He lets out a small sigh as both of you watch as your son settles into his new environment. The room seemed to glow with a serene tranquility, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Satoru whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “He is. And he’s ours.”

“Hm, he’ll always be.” He agrees, his hand tracing across the small of your back. “The kids will love him, I’m pretty sure.”

“Tsumiki will just gobble him up.” You laughed softly.

“And Megumi’s gonna be a bit flustered, ‘m sure.”

“Hey, he’s just a little shy! He’s trying.”

Satoru kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the moment in his memory. “Hm, he is.”

“Thank you.” 

“What for, darling?”

You smile at him. “For giving me this lovely little life.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Darling, if anything, I should be the one saying that, hm?”

“I love you.” You whispered against him, letting your hand trail against his free hand. “Genuinely.”

“Love you too, very much.” He squeezes your hand back. “All four of you. We’re going to be okay, darling.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of happiness and the sheer weight of the responsibility ahead. “I know. ‘cause we have each other.”

He smiles. ”Nothing better than that.”

As you stood there, watching over your son, you felt a profound sense of completeness. The future held many uncertainties, but this moment was perfect. Surrounded by the love of your husband and the new life you had brought into the world, you knew that together, you could face anything.

Satoru’s hand found yours, squeezing gently. “Welcome home, my little dawn.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “This is just the beginning.”

You nodded, resting your head against Satoru’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. In that small, serene nursery, surrounded by the promise of new beginnings, you felt a deep and abiding peace. 

This was your peace.

This was your home.

And this was your future. 

You were truly content now.

SOMEHOW, ADJUSTING WAS QUITE A WORD TO LEARN. Life as new parents to your little boy, Satoshi, was a whirlwind of joy, exhaustion, and moments that you knew would become cherished memories. And though it was hard most days, stressful even — you both would not trade it for anything else.

Gojo Satoru, ever the dedicated father, decided to take paternity leave, putting his duties aside to focus on his growing family.  He didn’t care about what the higher ups were going to say about it.  He just sent a phone call, turned off his phone and left them to deal with the situation until he could come back. He was not going to let any sense of his duty ruin his first glimpses as a father.

The decision brought a new level of warmth and connection to your home, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the world outside. It was more common now to see Gojo Satoru standing by the kitchen at two in the morning, trying to warm up frozen breast milk or being up and about by seven to make Megumi and Tsumiki’s bento boxes and see them off to school.

Satoru’s presence was a source of comfort and strength postpartum. He refused to let you raise a finger while he was in the house. You were still healing from the birth, he said. The best thing for you is to enjoy your relaxation and rest, while he does his part. It’s the smallest thing, he says to you as he gives you your breakfast that morning, there’s nothing to worry about. 

Most nights, when he lets you go to sleep as much as you can — you end up waking up to walk towards the bathroom to pee and you would see him, sitting in the living room. You would stand there, watching him as he finds himself cradling Satoshi, whispering sweet words of love and promises for the future. His cerulean eyes, usually so full of mischief, softened with a tenderness that melted your heart each time you saw him with your son.

You couldn’t help but enjoy seeing him so domesticated, to be at such a peace with himself, with his life. This was such a far cry from the Gojo Satoru you had known in your youths. And it was so beautiful, how genuinely graceful he had adapted to his new life. He was always there, with a gentle touch and a reassuring smile, ready to do what he had to for your comfort. 

“He’s just so small!” Tsumiki gushed, looking at the baby and then at you and Satoru. Her smile was from ear to ear. “Satoru-san, he looks exactly like you!”

Satoru laughed softly, a sound filled with pride and joy. “Hm, doesn’t he? He was born on my birthday too! My precious little ‘toshi.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Yes, he does. But look closer, Tsumiki. He’s got my nose and my stubborn streak already.”

Tsumiki leaned in, examining Satoshi’s tiny features with a thoughtful expression. “Oh, you’re right! I can see it now. He’s a perfect mix of both of you.” She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “He’s going to be so loved.”

Megumi, standing a bit shyly to the side,  as he looked at you and nodded. “Yeah, he is.” He stepped closer, peering at Satoshi with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Welcome home….Satoshi.”

Megumi and Tsumiki were adjusting well to having a baby around the house. Satoru teased them both about being Satoshi’s elder siblings often, Tsumiki was gleeful and Megumi was always bashful. It was so lovely to watch. The house became more livelier than ever before.

You always noted that Tsumiki was a natural caregiver, always ready to lend  a hand with diaper changes or soothing Satoshi when he was fussy. You and Satoru often told her that she didn’t have to, but she insists that she wants to  spend time with him. She adored him, her nurturing nature shining through in every interaction.

Megumi, on the other hand, was more reserved. Shy about expressing his love for Satoshi with words, he found other ways to show his affection. He would sit quietly by Satoshi’s crib, reading aloud from his favorite books, or he’d be the first to arrive when Satoshi’s cries echoed through the house, ready to offer a pacifier or a comforting touch.

Satoru reached out, ruffling Megumi’s hair gently. “You’re going to be good to him, hm? Aren’t you, Megumi? I’m counting on you to help keep an eye on him when I’m not around, ‘kay?”

Megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he nodded with determination. “I will.”

You felt a wave of gratitude and love for your makeshift family, the bonds between all of you growing stronger with each passing moment. “Of course we will.” you said softly, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re going to take care of each other, always.”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. “I’m so happy. It’s like our family keeps growing, and it’s just... perfect.”

Satoru pulled both Tsumiki and Megumi into a gentle hug, careful not to jostle Satoshi in your arms. “We’re a team, always remember!” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “No matter what, we stick together.”

“Of course!” Tsumiki cheered in reply.

Satoru looked at Megumi, pulling him closer. “What about you, ‘gumi? We’re all in this together!”

Megumi flustered, trying to shove your husband. “Ugh, stop—”

“Ehhhh! Just say it once, come on now!”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Megumi, come on! Satoru–san has a point!”

“I still don’t want to!”

As you watched this heartfelt moment, your heart swelled with emotion. The little ones have had quite a rough life, you knew that much. But to know that they have a home here, that they were happy here. The love and unity in your heart for your little home were palpable. Despite the challenges ahead, all the things you may never know — you knew that with your husband and the kids, you’ll always be fine.

Satoshi stirred slightly, his tiny hand reaching out as if sensing the warmth and love around him. You gently kissed his forehead, whispering softly, “See, Satoshi? You’re so loved by everyone, you know?”

Satoru glanced at you, his eyes shimmering with unabashed joy. “We’re going to give him the best life, darling. I promise you that.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace and contentment. “I know we will. Together.”

The gentle hum of life outside seemed to pause in reverence for the precious moment unfolding within your home. Satoshi nestled peacefully in your arms, his tiny fingers curling and uncurling as if grasping at the very fabric of love that surrounded him. The soft murmur of your family’s voices filled the air, a symphony of warmth that your little boy seems to be so in love with.

“Hey... can I hold him?” Megumi asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful.

You turned to Megumi, seeing the earnestness in his eyes. This was a big step for him, wanting to connect with his new brother in such a tangible way. You looked at Satoru, who was grinning. You smiled and nodded.

Satoru’s smile was warm and encouraging. “Of course, Megumi. Just be gentle, hm? He’s still too small, after all.”

With careful movements, You carefully handed Satoshi over to Megumi. The young boy’s face lit up with a rare, genuine smile as he cradled the little bundle in his arms. Satoshi, sensing the familiar presence, settled almost immediately, his tiny hand reaching up to grasp Megumi’s finger.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Look at them.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “We’re really doing this.”

You leaned into Satoru, your heart swelling with love for your family. “Yes, we are, aren't we?" you replied softly. “And it’s perfect.”

Megumi looked up, his expression one of pure wonder. “He’s so small.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But he’s... perfect.”

“You’re doing great, Megumi,” you whispered, your heart swelling with pride.

Tsumiki joined you, her eyes shining with happiness. “He loves you, Megumi. You’re such a good big brother to him already."

“....am not his big brother.” he says shyly, scarlet blush across his face. 

“Nah, you are.” Satoru whispers at him, smiling as he pats Megumi’s hair. “You will always be his big brother, okay?”

You giggled. “And he’s happy about it too. He’s happy to be carried by his big brother Megumi.”

Megumi’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t look away from Satoshi. “I just….. want him to be happy.” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “He’s happy because he’s surrounded by love.” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “And because he has the best siblings in the world caring for him.”

You smiled at him, so full of love.

“I love you, all of you, my love.”

Cerulean eyes looked at you, tenderly.

“I love you too, darling. So so much.”

epilogue

One afternoon, you found Satoru in the kitchen, attempting to bake cookies with Tsumiki. Flour dusted his hair and apron, and Tsumiki giggled as she helped mix the dough. The sight was a blend of chaotic mess and heartwarming sweetness.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with Satoshi nestled in your arms. The smell of burnt sugar was already wafting through the air, a clear indicator that things might not be going as planned.

Satoru flashed you a mischievous grin, his blue eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “I’m a man of many talents, darling. Baking just happens to be one of them.” He tried to flick flour at you, but it mostly ended up on Tsumiki, who erupted into fits of laughter.

“Yeah, sure.” you said, laughing as you shook your head. “I think you might need to add ‘kitchen disaster’ to your list of talents.”

Just then, Megumi walked in, drawn by the noise and commotion. He took one look at the flour-covered Satoru and the batter-splattered Tsumiki and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re making a mess.” he said dryly, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “We could just buy cookies from the local bakery.”

“Come on, Megumi!” Satoru called out, waving a dough-covered hand. “Join the fun! We’re making memories here!”

“Satoru–san’s right, Megumi!” Tsumiki says, giggling as she plays with the batter. “Come on!”

Megumi looks at you and you laugh, nodding. “Go on. It’s not that bad. If anything, we can clean it up. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, Megumi sighed and pursed his lips. He slowly grabbed an apron  from the hook and joined in, his serious demeanor softening as he started to help. Slowly, the kitchen started to be filled with laughter and playful teasing, a symphony of familial love.

When the cookies finally came out of the oven, they were slightly burnt and oddly shaped. Satoru picked one up, examining it critically before taking a big bite. “Mmm, just like I remember from years ago.” he said with a straight face, making everyone laugh. “Didn’t you use to make us bake after missions?”

“Yes, but it did not look like that.” You smiled at him. “We could make new ones, if you want?”

“Yeah, let’s make one that’s digestible.” Megumi says as he started using the cookie cutters on his batter.

“Hey! They are perfectly digestible.”

“I don’t know, my love.” You tout as you looked at him teasingly, “It doesn’t seem to be good right now.”

“Oh just you wait, I’ll make another batch!” He says, almost determined to prove you wrong. “‘miki! Get more flour and butter! I’ll get the eggs!”

“I’m on it, Satoru–san!”

“Satoru, be careful, don’t run!”

“But I gotta get it done soon!”

“This isn’t masterchef, don’t rush!”

In the end, your husband made a more pleasant looking batter — but it was because you were making sure to watch everything as you cradled your little son in your arms. Megumi didn't need anything else but praise when it came to his cookies. They looked so round and perfectly golden. Tsumiki’s own batch was also pretty, she added pink sprinkles in her batter which made it more bright. 

When all the dishes were taken care of, the cookies were left to cool. Megumi prepared both of you a cup of black coffee, while Tsumiki plated the rest. Satoru whistled as he settled everything away where it belonged. 

"These cookies are... interesting," Megumi remarked, taking a hesitant bite.

Tsumiki giggled, nudging him playfully. "They're not that bad, Megumi. It's the thought that counts, right?"

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. "Exactly! Besides, the company is what makes them taste good." He ruffled Megumi's hair, earning a good-natured eye roll from the boy.

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "I have to agree with Satoru on this one. Being together makes everything better."

Satoshi, sitting in his high chair with a cookie of his own, babbled happily, bits of cookie smeared around his mouth. His bright eyes sparkled with joy as he looked around at his family.

"Satoru-san, can we make more cookies tomorrow?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

Satoru chuckled, wiping a smudge of flour from his cheek. "We'll see, Tsumiki. Maybe we'll try making something else. How about a cake?"

"Yeah!" Tsumiki cheered happily with infectious excitement.

Megumi looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking up. "Can we make a chocolate cake?"

"Chocolate cake it is," you agreed, laughing at the enthusiasm of your children. "But maybe we should let Satoru handle the mixing next time."

Satoru feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey, I think I did a pretty good job! Next time, I'll show you all my true baking skills."

"Sure, sure," you teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "We'll hold you to that, Mr. Talented."

The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and lighthearted banter. As the evening wore on, you found yourself marveling at the simple joy of being together. The challenges and uncertainties of life seemed distant, overshadowed by the love and warmth of your family.

Later that night, as you tucked Tsumiki and Megumi into bed, they both looked up at you with sleepy smiles.

"Goodnight to you, Gen-san!" Tsumiki whispered, her eyes already drooping.

"Goodnight, sweetie," you replied, brushing a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well."

Megumi gave you a small, shy look with a blush on his cheeks. "Thanks for the cookies..... And for everything."

Your heart swelled with love as you kissed his forehead too. "You're welcome, Megumi. Sweet dreams."

Back in your bedroom, you found Satoru already lying down, Satoshi nestled in his crib nearby. You slipped into bed beside him, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

"Thank you for today," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "Thank you, too. For everything. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world."

You smiled, closing your eyes as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Me neither. Together, we'll make every day special."

One night, as you lay in bed with Satoru beside you and Satoshi nestled in his crib, you whispered, “Thank you for being here, Satoru. For all of us.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with love and a hint of mischief. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, darling. You and the children are my world.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Even if your cookies are terrible?”

He laughed softly, pulling you closer. “Even then. But don’t worry, I’ll keep practicing. One day, I’ll get it right.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you kissed him gently. “I’m sure you will. But until then, we’ll just enjoy the burnt ones together.”

Satoru chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Sounds like a plan, my darling.”

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of your sleeping children and the gentle cadence of your husband’s heartbeat, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your family would face them together. And with Satoru’s unwavering love and determination, you were certain that your home would always be filled with laughter, warmth, and the sweetest memories.

You wanted more of Gojo Satoru.

You wanted everything of him.

You wanted more of him in this life.

You can't hold enough of him, you think.

You can't hold enough of him in your hands.

[damagedintellect]

Alpha Fyodor x Omega Fem!Reader

💌 The Poetic Nature of the DOA Novelist: Chapter 1?  💌  

Summary:  You were hired as the DOA's novelist, usually Nikolai is your heat partner but sometimes Fyodor takes advantage of the fact that you are an omega

Notes:  I'm drunk and on my period there's not enough omegaverse for me to consume so fuck I gotta wrtie me own ughhhh why caan;t my fingers hit the right letters.m I'll fix it when I'm sober. Sober me here fuck it I'm gonna keep it, I just can't be bothered

Fem!Omega reader bc it's self indulgent 🍋

💌 Word count: 2,540 💌  You are here | Chapter 2??? idk durnk me wants a part 2 but w/Nikolai 🍋

Your mind has been foggy all day and only seems to be getting worse by the hour. You’ve been staring blankly at the pen in your hands, unable to focus on finishing your current sentence. Last night you thought it was a fever but looking at the calendar you groaned. That's when the realization hits you, your heat came early and that's why you feel so out of it. You step into the hallway knocking on Nikolai's door. No response, there's a good chance the alpha was out. You pressed your head against the door.

This wasn't good.

You tried jiggling the knob but it was locked and there was no key, only Nikolai could open the door. You've tried to pick the lock before it doesn't work. That's what you hated the most. All you wanted was to make your nest but Nikolai hates when others go snooping through his things. Which was fair even though Fyodor and Sigma both respect each other's personal boundaries but Nikolai is Nikolai you supposed. Thinking about it, the alpha in question was the only one who has ever sifted through everyone's personal belongings. Besides the point without his body or even his scent you were starting to suffer. The curse of being an unmated omega.

You sniff the air trying to see if anyone else was around who would know when he'd be back. To your dismay it seems only Fyodor is here at the base. Go figure. Outside of recruitment you've never seen Fukichi or Bram around and now that Sigma has his casino to run, this has been the case more often than not. You hobble over to his door which was already open. He must not be busy at the moment otherwise he wouldn't let the others openly pester him. You knocked at the entrance before letting yourself in as he was typing away at his computer.

"I assume you're not that busy right now?" You glanced at his twelve monitors, unable to comprehend the mess displayed across the screens.

"Correct." He glanced over his shoulder "I assume your heat came early?"

"Correct. Can I sit in your lap until Nikolai gets back? I would ask for your blanket or pillow or something but I already know it wouldn't smell like alpha." He doesn't sleep in them most nights so why would they. Sure you could have asked for his ushanka but he wasn't wearing it strangely enough. You liked when he didn’t have his hat. His hair was beautiful. You want to run your fingers through it, maybe even braid it like Nikolai’s.

The alpha smirked, motioning you to take your seat. He must have planned this. There's a good chance he just sent Nikolai off to make you desperate. Normally Nikolai's schedule works around your heats perfectly and Fyodor's in charge of planning the timeline of events. What an asshole. It's a shame he's the only one who can help you right now. Honestly you want to be mad but your inner omega has a thing for this bastard.

You situated yourself so that you were facing Fyodor. He even went as far to lower his chair to help you get into his lap. Once comfortable you nuzzled into his neck breathing him in. Just the scent of the alpha alone was already making the dull ache dissipate. You were safe and protected and even though you know you were never in any danger your body needed the confirmation. Secondary genders suck.

When you were recruited as the novelist for the DOA Fyodor was quick to make it known he had no interest in helping with your heats but after Nikolai volunteered to be your heat partner you noticed Fyodor's almost taken aback expression. Then Fyodor's rut hit when you were the only one around. Which at the time was odd but thinking back surely he planned that too. He cornered you, had his way with you and you would hate to admit it but you liked it. You liked it a lot and that's a horrible thing to admit. You would have never expected to have a thing for the russian. It’s not like you were even an acquaintance, nor was he someone you despised. You were just here for the job and by technicalities he was your employer. 

Fyodor was always cold and distant until he needed something, which from you was very rare. You could even say he seemed kind of bored and aloof until you got him talking about his master plans but even then he kept the details to a minimum. However after being forced to spend his rut with him your view of Fyodor started shifting. There was something about how assertive he was yet uncharacteristically affectionate towards you that left you in awe. It was like you were pulling back the curtain ever so slightly to see that there really was a human behind the facade. That and his scent drove you crazy as is and it's extremely subtle, so subtle that you can't even smell it half the time. 

The moment he was consciously himself again, he smiled wickedly or rather you think deranged would be a better word. He kicked you to the curb without any acknowledgment of what possessed him to have such poor planning. This has repeated for a few cycles at this point and things didn't add up. You were used to his hot cold demeanor by now but you still don't understand why he makes a big deal out of it. Actually scratch that you knew it's because it bothered him that his secondary gender takes control of his actions. He doesn't take any blockers or suppressants, apparently for religious reasons, but still. He holds great disdain for the fact that no matter how he feels about you deep down there will always be that innate instinct to take care of you simply because you're an unmated omega.

At the end of the day you don't care who fucks your brains out but Fyodor likes playing with his food. Which is why you wish Nikolai would come back already. Your hole ached to be filled. Nikolai teases you but he always makes sure you are taken care of. He was the best alpha of the DOA in your opinion. The two of you had such instant chemistry and you talk about it often enough. Honestly you don't know why he doesn't just claim you now but that's Nikolai for you. He likes his freedom and you can admire that. A man who sticks to his philosophy. Fyodor confuses you because he says one thing but will do another. Like right now, providing his scent to comfort you.

You slowly rocked your hips into Fyodor whimpering pathetically. You could  practically hear the grin as he hummed. You took another deep breath of the alpha's scent. You would kill for him to scent you right now. You'd kill for anyone to scent you right now. Your movement grinds to a halt when his fingers dig into your side. 

"Enough of that, continue and lose your scent privilege."

Had you been in your right mind you would have laughed. You didn't know you had scent privileges. That would sound a lot like helping with your heat. Part of you hopes you'll remember this when your heat is over so you could throw it in his face. Instead you begged and moaned under his touch.

"P-please, just let me warm you until Nikolai gets back. Being filled is enough. I can't think straight. Everything hurts."

The sentence was shaky at best but you felt him twitch between your legs. He was already mostly hard from your lazy attempt at relief. You didn't even expect him to answer your half drunken rambling when he sighed.

"Fine, if you wish to fuck yourself silly than be my guest but I offer no further assistance."

His tone was as uninterested as usual but it sent shivers down your spine as you fumble with his pants to set his cock free. His expression was neutral but there was a sharpness to his features that was undeniable. For the first time since entering the room his eyes were glued on you as you hastily situated your own clothes and aligned yourself, sinking down on his inches. You were twitching and holding back moans as you bottomed out. Instant relief and pleasure flooded your senses. The sensation of feeling full was so divine. You stayed there panting into Fyodor's neck refusing to move. You prayed that this would be enough. The last thing you want to do is beg him for help.

You gasped, biting the back of your hand as you felt him twitch inside you. You clenched around him involuntarily feeling a wave of pleasure wrack through your body. You were drooling at the fullness while gripping his shoulders tightly. He technically gave you permission to move but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Although your head was screaming at you otherwise. His scent was growing stronger, it had you reeling almost like he was urging you to help yourself. To be a good little omega. 

To be, his, good little omega. 

With that in mind you slowly rolled your hips choking on a moan as your body twitched around him again. The angle he was able to hit like this was driving you mad. Why have you never done this before? You would have to make a note of this for later. You’ve fooled around with Nikolai quite a bit so why have you never fucked on a chair? With how sensitive you were in heat you could cum just like this. It took all of your strength to lift yourself up enough to sink back down completely. He was just long enough to brush past the right spot to make your legs feel like jelly.

True to his word he did not help you although his hand found itself around your waist. Probably to make sure you didn't fall out of the chair. Your body was spasming in pleasure to the point where your thighs were shaking an awful lot and you have yet to cum. The sheer idea of being bred was enough to satisfy that urge. It felt so good you might even pass out. The more you inhaled his scent the further your mind slipped into heat. You were too busy chasing that high you hadn’t noticed the low grunts and panting in your ear. If you took the time to observe Fyodor you would have seen just how disheveled his demeanor had become.

 A thin layer of sweat plastered his bangs to his forehead. He stopped typing ages ago but he still managed to maneuver the mouse around, doing who knows what. His breathing had become ragged when you started moving and the grip on your waist had tightened. You hoped it would leave marks for Nikolai to see. His eyes jumped back and forth from his monitor to you. At this rate neither of you would last much longer.

“F-Fyodor, nnghh, I'm-”

He pressed his lips to your ear murmuring “Cum for me darling” in that deep rich tone of his before he kissed your temple. You slump against him gripping his shoulders tightly as you reach your climax. You were such a panting mess you didn't notice Nikolai had been standing in the doorway the whole time.

The jester took that as his cue to enter the scene bouncing over to you both. “I'm back, did I miss anything?” Nikolai surveys the room cheerful as ever, wiggling his eyebrows while Fyodor's expression goes flat. 

He leaned into Fyodor’s personal space with excitement “Oh good you finally confessed! It's about time you figured it out. Honestly it was so uncharacteristic for you of all people to be the last one to know.” He clapped his hands as Fyodor frowned.

“I do not understand what you are referring to, neither (Y/N) nor I made any confession. I was simply minding my business when her preheat kicked in.” There was something about the way that Fyodor said it that sounded dismissive like he was trying to convince himself that it was true.

Nikolai rolled his eyes “Well then if you haven't realized it that's fine. I'll be taking her now if it's all the same to you.” his smile turned into a sneer.

“By all means her heat is your responsibility after all.”

Nikolai helped delicately peel you out of Fyodor's lap holding you in his arms like a princess. You were extremely sensitive to touch and both Alpha's couldn't hide the soft satisfied expression as they watched you enter Nikolai's cape. 

“Careful Dos-kun, get too attached and I might have to claim her for myself~” the jester teased even though Fyodor knew if it came down to it Nikolai wouldn't mind sharing at all. 

It was the reason he knew he could get away with using you during his rut cycles. Although the first time was purely a miscalculation on his part, but he digressed. The rest was about convenience. Fyodor had or ever wanted to have rut partners in the past, which was unfortunate because having one makes things so much easier to manage. Besides the point he was getting sidetracked in his head.

“As if the thought doesn't excite you.” Fyodor quipped back as his attention was drawn to his monitor. Dazai had managed to put him in check twice since you was being very distracting.

Nikolai laughed ruffling the other’s hair. “Guilty as charged but still,” he trailed off turning towards the door “It's not fair to play games with someone who doesn't know they're playing a game.” Nikolai waved his coat as he vanished to his room leaving Fyodor to scowl at the vacant space.

You were happily making your nest on Nikolai's bed. The room smelled very strongly of the alpha, it helped keep your mind clear especially after you came on Fyodor's cock. In your brain the faster you set up your nest the quicker you could be knotted. Slick was still running down your thigh when Nikolai joined you leaning over your shoulder. “I like what you've done with the place.” He snickered, placing a kiss on your scent gland “Can't wait to ruin it!” He chirped.

You moaned as he pressed himself against your backside. His hands were set on removing the rest of your clothes “By the way did you know Fyodor was playing chess with Dazai that entire time?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden insight. “That's what he was doing! I'm surprised he even let me in then, he hates losing to Dazai.”

Nikolai's hands danced across your exposed skin, kissing everywhere he could while undressing himself. “That's how important you are to him.” 

You scoffed “Yeah as if.”

You can’t say he didn’t try, Nikolai has known for a while now that you and Fyodor are fated mates. He's astonished that neither of you could smell it on each other. It wasn’t his job to interfere though he hoped that you'd realize it sooner, But that's not his problem!

[steddieas-shegoes]

still believe

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'santa'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 985 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, mall santa, fluff

🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻

The line is wrapped around the building, which is exactly what Steve warned him about.

Steve insisted they go the first week that Santa was at the mall, but Eddie insisted they wait. It didn’t feel right to see Santa before December even started.

Then they got so busy with hockey practices and the baby and-

“How much longer?” Rory asks. She isn’t quite groaning yet, but Eddie knows she doesn’t have much more patience.

Steve is bouncing Sawyer in his arms, raising his brows at Eddie. The I told you so doesn’t need to be said out loud for him to know that’s what he’s thinking.

He tried to time it perfectly between Steve getting off of work, Sawyer’s next feeding time, and their own dinner time, but now…

They’re looking at a catastrophic failure on his part.

Sawyer’s only four months old, and he’s on a very strict schedule. He’s a perfect baby, sleeps almost entirely through the night, only cries when he needs to be changed, and loves when Rory holds him. But if he doesn’t eat on time? Everyone suffers.

They have at least an hour in this line still and they have roughly 20 minutes before Sawyer’s due for a bottle. They have them in the diaper bag, of course, enough formula already measured out for two bottles and a bottle of water just in case.

“Can’t we go to another Santa?” She asks when no one answers her.

“What do you mean? This is the only Santa.” Steve stops bouncing as he speaks, and Eddie feels sweaty all of a sudden. They both thought Rory still believed in Santa. Sure, she was a little old for it, but last year she’d gotten into a fight with a kid at school because she still believed.

“Dad.” Rory gives him one of her be serious looks. “Every mall has one. The real Santa has to stay in the North Pole.”

Steve’s shoulders relax, but Eddie feels another moment of panic. Rory does still believe in Santa. It’s fine, it’s actually great. But a small part of him hoped that maybe she’d just casually stopped believing. Maybe then it would be easier for Steve to accept that their little girl isn’t so little anymore.

“Right,” Steve smiles at her. “But we’re already in line here, so we should just stay.”

Rory sighs, but doesn’t argue.

Sawyer coos in Steve’s arms. Steve smiles down at him and bounces him again.

“You can’t wait to meet Santa, huh buddy?” Steve asks him.

Sawyer’s way too young to understand what he’s asking, but he still gives a gummy smile. He’s got Chrissy’s nose, but it’s a perfect combination with Eddie’s everything else. They all joked that Eddie might as well have carried and birthed him for how much he looks like him already.

“Does Santa already know that Sawyer’s been good?” Rory asks.

“Babies are always on the nice list until they can walk and talk. Then, they have to behave just like all the bigger kids,” Steve explains. “Santa already knows Sawyer’s good.”

“But what if Sawyer was bad?”

“Well, do you think he’s been bad?” Eddie asks, taking Sawyer from Steve to give him a break.

“He did puke on my shirt last week,” Rory’s face twists with disgust. “And he pooped through his diaper that one time and it got on the car seat.”

Eddie’s doing his best not to laugh. “Those are accidents, though. It doesn’t make him a bad kid.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rory sighs. She looks around the people in front of them as they take a few steps forward. “Maybe we can skip Santa this year? Since he knows we’ve both been good.”

Steve shakes his head. “We wanted to get a family picture, remember?”

“But it’s not even the real Santa!” Rory exclaims, loud enough that the people in front of them turn and scowl at them. Steve sends them an apologetic look and kneels down so he can get on Rory’s level.

“Listen green bean, you remember when you were really little and thought this was the real Santa?” She nods. “A lot of these kids still think that and we can’t ruin it for them. Plus, they’re handing out candy canes, look!”

One of the employees dressed as an elf is walking down the line offering candy canes. A perfect distraction for kids growing impatient in line.

Sawyer gurgles and then lets out a tiny whine. Eddie checks the time on the phone and gives Steve a look.

Steve wordlessly opens the diaper bag to get the bottle ready and Rory rocks on her feet as she waits for the elf to bring her a candy cane. Eddie pokes at Sawyer’s cheek, and his tummy, and his arm, making him let out little bursts of noises that are nearly giggles.

“Not too much longer,” Eddie whispers to the baby in his arms, hopeful that he’s right.

****

Nearly an hour later, they have Sawyer propped in Santa’s lap and Rory standing next to him, talking a mile a minute about her list. They manage to get a great picture– a small miracle considering Sawyer was due for a nap– and head out, not wanting to hold up the line more than it already has been.

As they leave, Rory tugs on Eddie’s jacket and comes to a stop. Steve is too busy babbling at Sawyer to notice.

“Daddy, I lied,” she says and Eddie’s gut clenches. “I know Santa isn’t real. But dad loves Christmas and it would hurt his feelings. And now Sawyer can believe in Santa so I have to pretend.”

Eddie loves this girl. She has always been wise beyond her years, which is why her believing in Santa at this age seemed ludicrous to him.

He hugs her tight and kisses the top of her head. “You’re a good kid, little one.”

[bloom-into-blue]

ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕕

Summary: a chance meeting, a lucky run in, whatever you wanna call it. There's a gorgeous lady before you and... Thinking is hard. Just feel? Easier said than done.

Contents: just Garofano meeting the reader in her tailor shop! Reader is referred to with feminine gendered terms.

Word count: 1.6k

Author's note: I wanted to put something out as i mentioned before, and honestly, Garofano is one of my favorite ladies... First sfw fic of the blog. Can you believe it? Wild. Anyway, it is currently minutes before Valentine's so this makes sense to my timezone.

To say life has been kind would be a generous statement.

When you wake up, the sky is barely turning into a pale shade of orange and blue hues, though you can barely even notice it when one of your pillows is inexplicably covering half your face. Your neck aches, sore from whatever shitty position you assumed during your sleep. The worst part is that you know you can't linger on this too much, not when there's your university assignments looming in the back of your mind, ever present and ever the pain in the ass.

…Then, as you take your phone to check exactly how long you have until your suffering begins, you realize it.

It's a day before Valentine's.

Your body is so used to the stress of university that it forgot you're currently still on vacation.

It's hard to avoid a small chuckle to yourself, when your worries shift from impossible professor standards to instead focusing on what you'll wear for the party your friends are planning for two weeks from now. Maybe life isn't so unkind, actually, even if the specific look you want is something you can only achieve by commissioning a tailor. The details aren't too worrisome, not when you've saved up enough for it.

Then, your memory jogs again, making your nerves freeze before you’re bolting out of your messy bed, hair equally tousled up.

You've already scheduled a meeting with a seamtress.

It's taking place in two hours.

—-

The first thing that hits you is the smell of carnations, potent as it envelops you the moment you step into the tailor shop.

Then there's the bell that rings above you, which prompts a woman older than you to glance up from her spot at the front desk, eyes kind and a sweet smile ready at a moment's notice. The first thing you can think of is how utterly gorgeous she is. “Welcome, dear,” she greets with ease brought by experience, most likely; even her voice is gorgeous, damn it. “What brings you to my shop?”

You honestly got lost in the sound of her voice, deep and rich, enough so that you forget English is a language you can – and should – speak right about now. “Uh… I came by the other day. ‘Nother lady, like… helped me book an appointment,” you manage to mumble as you take in the woman doing her best to attend to you. You remember the last time you dropped by, when a woman with straight, black hair told you the seamstress in charge wasn't available at the moment, but would be sometime soon, so booking an appointment would be a most excellent choice.

Now, standing in front of a goddess with curly, violet hair, it seems as though you can finally meet the seamstress you've heard so many positive comments about.

The lady before you chuckles as she covers her mouth with her hand, refined as a noble. Christ, how are you going to survive this. “You must be the girl Sumire talked about, then. Come on then; we wouldn't want to take your measurements when the glass outside doesn't shield you,” she prompts kindly, stepping closer and going as far as to set a gentle hand on your back as she guides you to a section of the shop that isn't visible from the outside.

“Y-yeah, thank you, miss…” you trail off, unsure of what to call her.

“Garofano, dear,” she fills the blank with a smooth wave of her hand and a charming smile. You have no idea if she's aware of the effect she's having on your heart or not, she doesn't let on even a little bit! The warmth on your cheeks is probably a dead giveaway to your current state though…

When you arrive at a more secluded area of Garofano’s shop, she doesn't waste a second before grabbing whatever she needs, though… you're not proud to admit the way your eyes take in her figure. For a brief moment, you think you catch her looking at you from the corner of her eye, but as quick as it happens the moment passes, leaving you flustered and trying to tear your gaze away.

Once Garofano finds the measuring tape she was looking for, she turns to you with a smile wide enough that the crow's feet around her eyes are noticeable. God, she's so beautiful– focus. She just spoke.

After waiting for a moment, she seems amused by your puzzled reaction if her velvety chuckle is anything to go by. “I said, take off your coat, dear. I can't measure you well enough if you're all covered up,” she teases softly. Oh god, Garofano's aware and she's fucking with you.

You comply with her instructions in a hurry, left now with just the tight-fitting clothes you were recommended for this appointment. It feels… like you're more vulnerable than before, even though you're still clothed. Perhaps it has something to do with the violet eyes taking in your figure.

Garofano reaches for your hand and guides you gently towards a small podium in the middle of the room, measuring tape in hand and glasses you hadn't seen before atop her head. “Please, tell me if anything I do makes you uncomfortable. I would loathe to make a lady as beautiful as you uneasy,” she murmurs against your ear before carefully unrolling the tape and beginning her work properly. Thank god she moved away, otherwise she would've felt how your ears are almost burning up with how flustered you are.

If nothing else, at least you're going to remember this throughout all of Valentine's day. Her hands feel so gentle… You chastise yourself internally; she's a professional and you're making this weird! You have to stop thinking about how hot the older lady is! When she kneels behind you with a quiet grunt, her hands are ever careful as the tape brushes against your covered leg… No, stop, you're thinking too much!

She probably noticed how tense you are. Garofano's voice is far gentler when she tries to break the ice. “So… I was told you wanted a suit that fit you as comfortably as could be, while also making sure it looked good on you. May I know the occasion, dear?”

At least you can answer that. “Uh… My friends and I are throwing a party? It's supposed to be casual, but some of us insisted on formal wear, and… Well, here you have me,” you explain before ending it with a sheepish chuckle. “Can't really find suits that fit me well enough, y'know?”

Garofano hums quietly, her hands around your waist making you let out the tiniest little breath. “I do know that particular struggle. At least I can help you in this case,” she replies, her hands gently moving to wrap the tape around your waistline. She's behind you, but you can feel the little pauses she takes to jot numbers down, and by god, you wish you could see the way her glasses look atop her nose. When she starts measuring you up again, you could swear she's taking longer than before for whatever reason…

You hope to god you're not making all the tension up.

—-

The measuring is over in about half an hour, and you're sure those thirty minutes of your lifespan evaporated alongside a few years thanks to the intensity of this gay panic.

“It should be ready in about a week, miss. Please, don't hesitate to come to me in case of any concerns you have,” Garofano said with a soft smile, taking off her glasses as she walks you to the front of the shop once more. You were right, the sight was as beautiful as you thought it would be while it lasted.

You realize… maybe you do have one concern.

“Look, you can tell me off if I'm weird about this, please make sure to turn me down if I'm, like, completely off-base here or if I'm being creepy or whatever, I would absolutely understand if you thought I was being too forward, like way too forward actually–”

“Sweetheart,” she cuts you off with a worried frown instead of that lovely smile. “Breathe, please. In… out.”You're out of breath when she calls you out, so with a quiet whine you nod and do as requested, feeling some semblance of composure arrive, so it brings a smile to your face when her lips quirk up in response. “Now, you're welcome to ask whatever it is that's on your mind.”

The reassurance isn't enough by a small margin, but whatever courage you manage to have is slightly emboldened by taking another deep breath. “Ma'am, you're stunning. I… Forgive me if I'm overstepping any lines, I just think– Um… If it's no bother, how would you feel about going out with me?”

You barely have time to process you wouldn't even be able to take her to the fancy sort of restaurant she deserves for a date, not with the shitty pay you get at your job.

It's… it's better to be upfront about that, so you steel your nerves before Garofano can answer, though you do find her surprised expression more than a little adorable, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. She's as gorgeous as she's cute– focus!

“I can't really take you to some five star restaurant… I know it's honestly a pretty bad offer, you should just forget I brought this up.”

Before your spirits can somehow deflate any more, Garofano takes a step forward and the sound of her heels shuts your train of thought down immediately. “Darling,” she begins with a gentle tone and a smile that is equally as sweet, “I don't think of myself as a woman who needs the highest luxuries. You're a beautiful prospect, I will gladly give you that.” The chuckle she gives in response to your flabbergasted expression is worth any sort of embarrassment you could've felt this entire morning. “Perhaps tomorrow could be a good time for our… date?”

The widest smile rises to your lips at the generous offer.

Maybe Valentine's day won't be so boring for a change.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 38

Part 1 Part 37

Steve keeps acting like he’s perfectly fine. Like he didn’t have part of his shoulder carved off. Like he’s not suffering through an hour of glorified torture masquerading as physical therapy every day, trying to build his muscle back up. Like the doctor hadn’t told him he might still never get back to shooting hoops and swimming laps with the precision he used to. Like his ribs aren’t still broken, and he doesn’t still have trouble standing, or wake up screaming, clutching at his throat. Like he doesn’t rub the back of his head sometimes and stare into the middle distance with lost eyes. And it’s pissing Eddie off.

Especially now, as he walks beside Wayne, pushing Steve’s wheelchair down the hall toward the elevator. This in and of itself was a feat. First, Steve had argued that he didn’t need a wheelchair, then he’d argued he didn’t need help pushing it. Eddie let Steve flounder for a few minutes, trying to make his useless arm wheel him forward, angry tears springing from his eyes before he acquiesces.

The latest rub is the worst: Steve wants to go home. As if Eddie doesn’t remember the look on Steve’s face when he said he wanted to go to Eddie’s trailer. As if Eddie doesn’t remember the way Steve’s voice broke when he called the trailer home.

“The doctor said somebody needs to keep an eye on ya,” Wayne says reasonably. “Either we do it, or you can stay with Joyce. She offered to put you up.”

Steve scoffs. “My parents—”

“Aren’t home!” Eddie snaps, pushing Steve into the elevator and pushing the down button on the elevator with enough force that his finger hurts.

Steve sits up straighter in his chair, reading for a fight. Wayne doesn’t let him. “If you’re staying at that house, then so are we,” he says, implacable. “Until your parents are there to watch you.” Left unsaid, is that no one had heard from them. That Steve hadn’t asked about them at all.

Steve slumps down in a position that must be hell on his cracked ribs, sighing. “Fine,” he says, like it hurts. “I’ll stay in the trailer.”

It feels like a knife twist. Eddie wants to shake Steve and remind him he’d called it home.

It’s quick after that. Steve signs himself out at the front desk, tucking the physical therapy schedule they’d made for him into the pocket of the sweatpants Wayne had scavenged from Eddie’s drawers for Steve to wear home.

Wayne and Eddie work together to help lever Steve into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. Wayne slides into the driver’s seat without asking, so Eddie grumbles his way into the back.

Steve’s quiet when Wayne pulls up front, quiet while they help him in, quiet when he’s settled onto the couch.

He’s looking around his surroundings just like he had the first time – like he’s amazed people live like this. That first time, he’d wanted to snarl, make sure Harrington knew that there was nothing wrong with this life he’d created with his Uncle. Now, he just thinks of Steve’s empty house, the hospital’s unanswered phone calls to his parents, and feels unbearably sad.

Wayne puts on a basketball game that Eddie doesn’t even complain about, and settles himself at Steve’s side.

Steve falls asleep halfway through the game, head falling on Eddie’s shoulder, warm puffs of air hitting the bare skin of his neck.

Wayne huffs, and Eddie looks up at him, already glaring defensively. “What?” he demands, quiet enough not to disturb Steve.

Wayne raises his hands placatingly, even as he smiles smugly over at Eddie. “I didn’t say anything.”

They all sleep in the living room that night. It’s cozy and warm, especially after Wayne drapes a blanket over them both.

It should feel weird, settling this closely to Steve, now that they’re not depending on each other to survive. Now that they’re back in the real world. But Eddie feels like he’ll fall apart if Steve’s not in sight, so maybe he’s not out of the woods after all.

It's peaceful.

It stays peaceful until the next day when it’s time for Steve’s physical therapy appointment.

“I can take myself,” he says. “I have a car.”

He’s not meeting Eddie’s eyes. Eddie takes a few deep breaths. He knows snapping won’t help anything, but he wants to smack Steve until this is easier. He just— he doesn’t get this. Can’t figure out what the problem is.

“It would take just as long to drive you to your car as it would to just drive you,” Eddie says, cleaning up their half-assed breakfast of toast a cereal off the table. He doesn’t look back at Steve, wants to play this cool and nonchalant, and he just knows one look at the obstinate tilt of Steve’s chin will send him swinging. 

“I can walk,” he says, even though he really really can’t.

Eddie slams a dish into the sink. He’s almost surprised the bowl doesn’t shatter upon impact. He scrubs it, back to where Steve is stewing in silence.

He needs to figure this out. Why Steve is being so difficult, about staying here, about Eddie feeding him and driving him. He does the hardest thing he can think of, and asks, “why don’t you want me to take you to your appointment?”

He doesn’t turn around, just keeps scrubbing the dishes like this is a casual conversation over breakfast. Because it should be.

The silence drags him down, lasts long enough that Eddie doesn’t think Steve will answer at all.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Steve says.

Eddie thinks back – big house no parents – and wonders how long it’s been since someone did something for Steve without strings. He turns around, settles back into his seat and stares at Steve until he raises his eyes from the table.

Choosing his words carefully, he says, “I want to go with you,” Eddie says. “You saved my life—"

“But—” Eddie holds up a hand, and Steve stops, brows furrowed.

“You saved my life,” he repeats, meeting Steve’s eyes. “I’m gonna help you whether you like it or not.”

It’s not quite the whole truth, but Eddie’s not sure how to touch the way it feels like worms are writhing in his stomach when Steve’s out of his sight. How his shoulders only really relax when he knows exactly where Steve and Will both are.

Eddie bites his tongue on the too much of it all.

“Fine,” Steve says, still sullen, but he lets Eddie lead him to the van and drive him to his appointment.

It looks painful. Eddie holds his crossed ankles, to stop himself from leaping up and wrenching Steve away from the doctor’s ministrations.

By the end, Steve looks like he just got done with a basketball game, sweat dripping down his forehead, pits stained. If Eddie squints, he can almost see the uncomplicated jock of days past as they limp out of the hospital.

“You wanna go see Baby Byers?” Eddie asks.

“Please,” Steve says, slumping into the passenger seat like the princess he is.

Eddie drives, turning his music up loud enough to rattle their teeth just to see Steve smile.

Part 39