#not even out of attachment just never really doing anything besides bagging a lot of it up

[kitwilsonsass]

Feeling stupidly emotional over getting rid of the Jeep and also for not taking a selfie with it beforehand.

[steddiealltheway]

It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

[yaekiss]

since your normal requests are still open （＾ω＾） i absolutely NEED to go next door to my darling kaeya!!! he can’t just be so devoted and adoringly obsessive without being rewarded! after that little show of a picture he sent, can’t quite be satisfied until i ravage him the way we know he wants </3

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Kaeya, no gendered terms for reader, Kaeya calls you "my heart", unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Kaeya, unhealthy attachment from reader, stalking (from Kaeya), mentions of biting and marking (Kaeya receiving), handjob (Kaeya receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is a (long overdue) sequel to this love letter from a previous event (now closed!) Sigh I really meant to finish this a lot earlier, first it was supposed to be your birthday present then when that date passed by, a v-day gift of sorts,,,,, But it's here now!! Hope it's kind of what you were looking to read @pulpbeing !

The whole walk over to the next room, regardless of how short it was, you were barely cognizant. It was hard to be, when mere minutes ago, it was revealed to you that your lover was some sort of obsessive stalker. (Yet, why does your heart still hammer so hard in your chest?)

Each step draws you closer and closer to Kaeya, and before you even register it, you’ve reached the door to his room. It's the very last one in the hallway. The room opposite his is vacant.

Your blood thrums under the skin of your fingers as you reach out to the smooth cold handle on the door, as if the mere act of crossing that threshold could shatter everything at once.

And to your surprise, the door swings open without any resistance.

The second your foot pads onto the carpet of his room and the door locks behind you, the atmosphere turns electric as a singular starry eye bores into you from where Kaeya is lounging on the bed.

And there he is. Draped in the same lacy white lingerie in the scandalous photograph he sent to you. As if the sight in the picture wasn’t stunning enough already, the sight of your lover before you outright steals the breath from your lungs. 

Adorned in naught by the gauzy fabric, you drag your gaze down from his face, to the crimson-stained trail left from that trickle of wine from his lips. The sheerness of the lingerie leaves nothing to the imagination with the way it snugly hugs his figure. The curve of his chest, his slender yet toned physique, stark white garter belt against the flesh of his thighs.

It's all ridiculously tantalising to you. And he knows it.

“No need to just stand by my door, my heart. You can do more than just gawk at me, you know?” Kaeya all but purrs out to you from where he’s seated, his one eye squinting as he grins.

Somehow, your body has already betrayed your warring thoughts within because when you next blink, you’ve crossed over to the bed, the mattress dipping as you take your seat beside him. His grin grows more blinding at this and he squeezes in closer to you, until your thighs are touching. 

“So the cat’s out of the bag, and now you know I’ve been tailing after you in Fontaine like some lovesick dog off a leash,” he sighs noncommittally, as if he didn’t just admit to stalking you.

He fixes you with a gaze, “How exactly does it make you feel?”

“Is it fear?”

The silence grows when you don’t respond, as if you know in a deep twisted part of your mind, that despite this, Kaeya would never harm a single hair on your head.

“Or is it desire?”

And it’s at this, that your heart thumps. 

The kiss is messy, more tongue and spit than anything else but you can’t be bothered when you’re busy removing the lingerie still on him. He melts into you as your hands wind around his frame, unravelling and undressing him from the flimsy layers of white lace that dare to separate him from you. When you watch the pure white tumble from him, perhaps he’s not the only one whose desires drive them wild.

A breathy moan leaves him as you leave bite mark after bite mark across the expanse of his neck. The feeling of your teeth pressed against his skin, the pressure and force behind it threatening to break past the surface. You’re kind enough to grant him one last hickey prior to pulling back and briefly admiring your handiwork.

Hands trailing down his side, you graze your fingertips over his hips before you settle a palm against his length. Just before he can roll himself up to rut against your hand, your other hand grips the side of his hip, stilling him as a protesting noise slips past his lips.

“You’ll move when I say you can. You can do that for me, yes?” 

Docile, he nods and simply watches on as your hand wraps itself around him. You can tell by the way he’s fisting the bedsheets that he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to fuck into your hand. Aided by the precum drooling from his tip, you glide your hand slowly up and down, marvelling at the way his breath hitches and eyes screw shut whenever you twist your grip exactly where you know he likes it.

It doesn’t take long before you can tell he’s reaching his limit. His breathing grows clipped and ragged and his groans and whines become increasingly needy. Every time his hips jerk involuntarily, your hand stills, prompting him to plead pitifully for you to continue. He makes quite the sorry sight before you, and your heart twinges with the need to watch him come undone.

Deciding you’ve toyed with him enough for now, you lean in, whispering, “Go on, let me see how you reward yourself.”

His pulse jackrabbits as you lave your tongue along his jugular, panting out broken “thank you”s at your generosity while he frantically chases his release, rutting into your hand. A quick twist and he’s spilling over, crumpling in on himself as he moans unabashedly at the pleasure you’ve shown to him. He has his chin hooking over your shoulder and arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a tight hug whilst riding out his high, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

Suddenly, your world tilts when Kaeya pulls you down onto the bed, you lie atop him, trapped in his embrace.

And coy as he is, he slithers next to your ear and whispers breathlessly, “It’s alright, you can have your way with me,” you can feel his heart pound from beneath you, your pulse matching his.

“There’s no one next door anyways.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

For as long as I've had cash to carry, I've carried a little cash in my wallet explicitly to give anyone out panhandling when I'm running errands, or hitchhikers when I drop them off. I learned the habit from my mom who carried a lil tote bag in the trunk with cash, travel hygeine kits, and nut/wheat free protein bars and water bottles. She picked up a lot of people on the way out to Chico and other ag towns, and it was important to her that she always leave them at their destination with resources.

One day, I was driving a date home from lunch and we had our leftovers in the car with us. I pulled off to give a man a little younger than I am now my on-hand cash and when we drove off my date started scolding me for giving him my money instead of giving him our leftovers.

I was, frankly, stunned. The idea that it would be better to hand the man a styrofoam box with a half eaten burger than to give him a $10 bill he could use to buy his own food was baffling to me.

"Well, if he's really homeless, I'm sure he'd be grateful for anything. And besides, he's just some stranger off the street! Why do you just believe what his sign says?" My date was so sure that I had given the man money because I pitied him. Because I wanted to help. Simply couldn't fathom that I'd done it because he asked and I could do so.

See, I don't give out my on-hand cash because people are needy and I am benevolent. I do it because people who ask for what they need have to be able to interact with people who will give them what they ask for in full recognition of their humanity. It's what lets you KEEP asking for what you need when it matters or is hard. And trust me. No one is asking a road full of strangers to help them meet their needs if it didn't matter to do so. I don't really care WHY they need what they need or if they're honest with me about it. It's not important to me to know those things. Someone asked. I could answer. So I did.

I've been seeing the conversation of "can you really trust who people say they are on the internet? Why are you giving money to strangers? What if they're scamming you?" popping back up more often as the world descends into conflict and climate change and medical neglect. I get it. If people can just post a sob story and get away with defrauding people of thousands of dollars, it feels unjust! Maybe you're even offended on behalf of ACTUAL victims and the money they might not get because it went to a fraudster!

It sounds just like my date that day, so sure that I was giving money to a young man on a street corner because I saw him as broken and in need of my salvation. If you are giving to strangers and upset that the money may serve different functions than you believed at the time, then why ARE you giving to strangers? Why do you feel so entitled to micromanage someone's life because you might give or have given them a gift? Perhaps you should reserve your gifts for those whom you won't feel compelled to attach strings.

I give to fundraisers online not because I assume every one is genuine. Do I check things out? Sure! But I also assume that once I have chosen to give, even someone who has been totally honest in their pleas may still spend "my money" on something unrelated. Why should I care? It was a gift. It's not mine anymore.

"But I could/would have spent it better!" Then you should have. But you chose to spend it by making it a gift. You don't get to dominate somebody because of that. If you're NOT confident that you are fine never thinking about the money again once you give it to the person in question, don't give it to them! But don't make yourself the person who demands why others give cash to panhandlers who "might not actually need it" instead of some other, more insulting option. Honestly best practice is probably to Simply Not Comment on how others spend their money unless it is somehow also your money and you need to access it.

I think it would be good to learn that about online fundraisers too. Especially when the consequences of falsely naming someone a faker or a fraud is, as it so often has been when it comes to the dynamic of begging strangers for money, a fucking death sentence. Maybe you just let people make the choice they're most comfortable with and do the same for yourself without acting like you have the right to the roles of judge, jury, and executioner.

And if you think this is about a specific set of fundraisers? Yes. It is. It's about nearly every surge of desperate fundraising I've seen over the last decade. And I'm sure it'll be about the next decade's worth too. The internet is the modern world's traffic stop, and social media fundraising is the new panhandling. The arguments for and against haven't changed just because the medium has.

[woojungz]

their love languages! 💭🎀

❝ xikers x gn!reader

𓂃𓈒 finally wrote something for all 10 members(⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^)

word count: 1.5k

( likes and reblogs appreciated!♡ )

✧𓂃𓈒MINJAE.

i'm a firm believer that minjae is so huge on words of affirmation. he's already written roadys long messages before, like i’m saying 'essay long' messages, thanking us for keeping up with them and having fun last tour. he loves pouring his all through heartfelt words he tells you at random times of the day, whether it be through text or if you're hanging out together. tells you he loves you everytime he can, the members even cringing whenever he does that in front of everyone else. they don't let him catch a break😭 the other way around, i think he also likes receiving words of affirmation. remember that one fancall where he asked a roady why they love him? as his s/o, let him know how well he's doing as a leader please. he also incredibly cherishes quality time with you because as the group leader, he doesn't get all the time in the world to be with you even if he wanna :(

✧𓂃𓈒JUNMIN.

i'm not sure if this counts as words of affirmation, but i'll just say it is. junmin really loves updating you throughout the day, like i'm saying tons of messages consisting of his selfies, food he's eaten, and places he's been too. dude is gonna blow up your phone at this point😭 but you don't really mind. even though you're not right there beside him, you feel like you are, because it's like he tells you updates of every single move he makes for the day. you literally have a collection of his photos he sent you, in your gallery. you're actually suprised it's a lot more than the pictures you've taken yourself?! he also really loves to do acts of service for you, he's actually one of the members that keeps their dorm mess free. so if there were times you're stressed or too occupied with work that you weren't able to pay attention to other things around you, junmin will do his best to help ease your workload!

✧𓂃𓈒SUMIN.

i like to think sumin is really into gift giving, and the things he gives you are really personal which makes it a lot more special. he really enjoys having you as his subject in his paintings of drawings, and would love to gift it to you once he's finished. also, you can't miss the sweet messages he leaves you behind the paper of the drawings! everyone knows sumin owns a lot of keychains right, literally his keychains weigh more than the bag it's attached to😭 he'd let you take anything from his collection, and would sometimes even buy you new ones! aside from that, even though we see him sometimes reject physical touch with the members, he'd initiate it himself with you. if you guys are living together, you'd maybe wanna marry him already because this guy knows how to maintain a home. this paragraph is gonna get longer if i explain, so i'll have it at just that.

✧𓂃𓈒JINSIK.

he's kinda on the same level of sumin when it comes to gift giving. our jinsik is an artist right? so he'd spent most of his time making drawings for you so you can turn it into your phone wallpaper! or even does short animations for you, like that stuff takes such a long time and jinsik would just spend his whole day making it for you. sometimes you'd catch him drawing something, but he suddenly hides it from you because he says he wants it to be a surprise!! also this guy is a real enjoyer of quality time too. whenever his family would be going somewhere, he'd want you to tag along with them. it makes him so happy to see all his favorite people in one place together :(

✧𓂃𓈒HYUNWOO.

i don't know if this is kinda unexpected but if you look closely, hyunwoo really likes physical touch. this boy always needs to hug you everytime you meet. and those times where you thought he was making kissy faces to you as a joke so you never reciprocate it, yeah... he was being fr that he wants a kiss. you just realize it when he suddenly sulks beside you as if there was a random rain cloud that manifested on top of his head, that suddenly his mood got sad. but once you do kiss him then he's already back to happy! also, he really likes to backhug you. at first he might be kind of cautious with physical touch if the other members could see, because he's often the center of their teasing. but as time went on, he actually didn't care anymore, he's gonna hug you whenever he wanna!!

✧𓂃𓈒JUNGHOON.

our hoonie really loves quality time with you! everytime he's free from schedule, all he really wants to do is spend the time to explore food spots with you (he really enjoys eating). he'd drag you along to places you've never been to before so you guys could try the randomest food ever. oftentimes he doesn't really show much expression right, so you also love it when you get to eat with him because he gets very extra while eating. especially when the food is good, you'll get to witness a bunch of reactions from him! just like hyunwoo, he's suprisingly into physical touch with you. no one of the members expected that at all! he'd like to have his hand somewhere on you, just making sure that there's no one else around to see this side of him. it's like he doesn't even expect himself to act like that, it's just because he's so in love with you he unconsciously wants to touch you all the time😭

✧𓂃𓈒SEEUN.

he's just some guy that has a lot of love to give😔 i like to think he enjoys giving all the love languages to his s/o, he's really sweet overall as a boyfriend. he would wanna devote himself to you. he's really heavily leaning on physical touch though, like randomly kisses you in moments you don't expect (i mean, this dude kisses his members randomly and even kisses the camera itself when it's on him😭). he can't sit still without having his hand on you all the time. also this guy doesn't like being locked up in their dorms whenever they don't have any schedules, so he's quickly ringing your phone up to ask you to spend time with him, hence another quality time enjoyer.

✧𓂃𓈒YUJUN.

physical touch on top when it comes to him!! sometimes the members have expressed that yujun gets so touchy, and he gives the best hugs. such a cute cuddler you know. everywhere you guys are spotted together, yujun always has a hand around your shoulder, waist, or his favorite: entangled with your hand too. if he's standing near you, he's not gonna let a gap between you too happen, your shoulders need to be touching😭 sometimes how question if he can even exist without being beside you all the time. goodluck dealing with him because it seems like yujun has a never ending amount of energy. also!! quality time with him in the form of playing video games together.

✧𓂃𓈒HUNTER.

he actually said it himself when another roady asked him!! hunter really enjoys quality time. even before then, this guy really loves to travel to different countries. he tells you he'd love to take you there some time, doesn't really care if he's been there for the hundredth time, as long as he sees the smile on your face that you're happy to spend time with him. even locally, he enjoys hanging out at parks and aquariums so expect a lot of your dates to be at those places. another is that hunter loves to give you gifts. it's not just ordinary gifts, he loves to give you ones that he could always see you using. mostly it'll be clothes or accessories, and it makes him really happy to see you show up for dates wearing his gifts :(

✧𓂃𓈒YECHAN.

he's kinda new to this relationship thing, very awkward at first. a stark contrast to how you met him, he's really extroverted right. it's honestly kinda cute to see him try his hardest in doing all the couple things he thought he has to do, so let him know that he can breath sometimes and just be himself!! he tries to ask for relationship advice from his hyungs, sometimes it backfires on him because he accidentally understands it a different way. so then he resorted to asking his older sisters instead. he may struggle a bit with words (in the relationship), even though he's normally so talkative. so he likes to express his love through actions. he remembers your favorite things, would love to buy you gifts even though there's no really occasion. and mostly tries to help you any way he could!! please notice how hard he tries to show acts of service!

[legendofmorons]

How to fall in love twice (Time, Malon) - Part 3

Pairing: Time x Malon x reader

Rating: T cursing and barley controlled rage

Summary: Wind has slipped the fierce diety mask into your bag, which no one knows when you leave with Malon to go to town. Unfortunately, you and Malon never make it to town. Time will not stop worrying and considers several bad plans to get you two back safe

Warnings: None

Other: If I missed anything please let me know

-------

The third day at the farm passes in a boring haze, Time and Malon both getting pulled to town on an order that went wrong. You had been blessed to a slow day.

The weirdest part of day three is the way Wind smiles smugly at your travel pack. Which is a problem for another day.

The fourth day, however, starts at dawn when Malon comes and wakes you up.

Well, you suppose you can mourn your dignity later. Right now, you need to get up so you can have an early breakfast before going into town.

As Malon leaves you start pulling on travel clothes and your travel pack. Which is ridiculous- you know. But something tells you that you need it.

The pack itself is a messenger bag. Your sword and shield attach to a scabbard on your back.

You pull on your undershirt, tunic, pants, and boots before brushing your hair out with your fingers and hissing at the tangles.

You grab your things and walk to the house, dropping the pack along with your sword and shield beside the front door before entering.

Wild's words replay how he bets it takes a disaster and miscommunication to get you, Time, and Malon to talk about feelings. Even if you did talk to them, it wouldn't take that turn.

Right?

Anyways, that doesn't matter. What does matter is coffee.

Walking into the kitchen, you see Time pouring three mugs of coffee. Wiat- three? Oh, he's probably just being nice. That's how he is.

This does mean anything romantic.

"Good morning, (Y/n)." He calls without turning.

"Morning, Time."

"Mal's making sure her bow is ready before you guys head out."

"She's an archer?" You ask with confusion.

"Yeah, she is."

"That's really cool."

"She is." Time says as he puts cream and sugar into each mug, separate amounts of each.

As you watch him prepare the mugs, you realize the one in your favorite color is made to your taste. Exactly to your taste.

Goddess above does Time have to be such a gentlemen?

"Here, your coffee, (Y/n)." Time smiles as he hands you the cup.

You take the mug with a soft and all too pleased smile. "Thank you."

"Anything for you." Time says.

You try to reassure yourself that he just means that as a friend. That's a friend thing. Definitely.

You take a drink of coffee to hide your warm cheeks, the warmth flooding your insides.

Footsteps alert you to Malon's arrival, her clothes sensible and eyes far more awake than you feel.

"Ah! (Y/n)!" Malon cheers, "It's good to see you."

"Good morning, Malon." You day, looking away as she comes in and kisses Time's cheek in greeting.

"Morning, love." Time says gently as ur presses a mug into her hands, "is a breakfast sandwich good for you today?"

"That sounds amazing, Link. Thank you." Malon says as she leans into the way he pulls her under ome arm.

"Is a breakfast sandwich okay for you, (Y/n)?" Time asks.

"Hm- Oh yes, that sounds great!" You say, putting on a smile for effect.

"Good. And you're sure you don't want me to come with?" Time asks, in a tone that sounds like he's asked this at least twelve times before.

Malon laughs as she waves him off, "Goodness no. Your boys need direction! (Y/n) and I make a good team."

"Alright."

"Why, do you think we can't handle ourselves?" She challenges lightly.

"I know you can. Maybe I just wanted to spend time with my two favorite people." He smiles at her.

What. The. Fuck? You're obviously aware Time cares about you to a degree. He puts your safety ahead of a lot of things. He comforts you on bad days.

But to be lumped in with Malon as one of his two favorite people- wow. That's-

That is not helping your romantic feelings go away. Like- at all.

(Y/n)?" Malon's voice startles you back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"Did you want egg on your sandwich?"

"Oh, uh

This trip is going to be the death of you.

.......

This trip is actually going to kill you.

That's the only thought you have as Malon presses her back against you, firing arrows into the monster whoard that is closing in on you both.

Your travel bag sits at your feet, forgotten as you try not to die.

You hack, slash, and stab your way through those coming around you, wishing you'd taken Time up on the offer to come with.

"We can't keep this up forever. And ideas?" You call to Malon.

As she presses back against you to fire another arrow, she answers, "Try anyways?"

"We're so fucked." You manage.

There's a laugh, low and multiplied to an unnatural level.

And then you are falling, arms flailing as you try to grab ahold of Malon.

You know this feeling. You're in a portal again.

One hand finds Malon's arm, and you hold her arm as tight as you can, both of you screaming.

Ypu land on the ground with a sick thump and a set of groans.

"What was that?" Nalon asks, her eyes finding your own.

"A portal... they don't usually open under us."

"Where are we?"

"I don't know..." You say, pushing to your feet before pulling Malon up.

Around you are your things, your oack, shield, sword, Malon's bow and scattered arrows.

"There is a sign." Malon says, walking over only to sigh, "In a language I don't know."

You place your things where they go before slinging your pack on your shoulder.

You walk to where she is, eyes landing on the sign. "That's Wild's Hylian."

"Hoe do you know?"

"I was curious and asked. His is almost exactly like mine with a few letters written different." You shrug, squinting.

"What's it say then?"

"That way," You point left, "Is Kakariko. The other way is Hateno."

"Kakariko- it's still around?"

"In my time at least. Though the placement is different. Come on, there's a fairy fountain near Kakriko, according to Wild. We'll want to stalk up on that and arrows."

Malon nods, "Let me grab my things."

"Of course." You say. Watching her go to retrieve her bow, quiver, and scattered arrows.

"Do you know much about Wild's hyrule?" Malon asks, turning towards you as she sets the weapons on her back.

"Hm, some... It's the closest to mine with language, slang, and locations... but it's still different. I'd say I'd we're around long enough. We should go to Hateno and Tarrey town too."

"Tarrey town?"

"Yeah, Wild has some friends in both places."

"I guess we should head to kakariko... It looks like we don't have much sunlight left."

"Then let's go." You say, eyeing the path woth caution as you and Malon start to fall into step together.

.......

Time hasn't stopped pacing since he finished the dinner dishes. You shouldn't still be out.

You and Malon left before seven in the morning, to still be out after ten pm... That's not good.

"I'm sure they'll be here soon." Four says, trying to be helpful.

"Time is right to be worried... with everything going on." Twilight shakes his head, "I grew up on the other side of the mountains- but I still know the land here-"

"If they aren't here by morning we'll go loom." Hyrule suggests, his sister swirling around his head in worry.

"I'm going now. We all knew the shadow was watching- what if he got to them."

"They'll be okay. Neither of then is hslpless." Four says, sounding more sure than any of them feel.

Time shakes his head. He dosen’t actually want to have to use the fierce deity mask... but if it'll keep you and Malon safe... He'll do it.

He hates how much it takes out of him, hates listening to the deity inside it worries for him when he isn't the one trapped in a mask.

"Is this a bad time to tell you I put one of your masks in (Y/n)'s bag?" Wind asks, looking a lot more guilty than anyone has ever seen.

Time's eyes snap to him, heart sinking. "Which mask?"

"The one that has your face markings...?" Wind says. Sounding a little unsure about the whole confession.

"You put the-" Time takes a deep breath to calm himself. "Usually that would be very bad, and very rude. But... I think this time it is for the best."

Warriors looks distinctly sea sick now, pale and a little green. "Time-"

"I know, Malon. And I know (Y/n). Assuming they got somewhere safe, they'll be going through their things." Time says, not sounding any more reassured than when he didn't know bout the mask being with them. "And Malon will know the mask on sight..."

"And if they aren't somewhere safe?" Legend asks.

"Then the mask will call to them until the pick it up." Warriors says darkly.

Time just groans, "We need to go find them."

"Yeah..."

"You stay here in case the come back, Hyrule too. The rest of us will go look." Twilight says, his eyes already turning to the door.

"Be fast." Hgrule urges, "something is looming."

"We know." Wild says with a grim look.

"If you don't find them, come back." Time says firmly, "We don't need to lose more people."

[mazeofyeni]

⭕. !!: ° ... YOUTUBE : WHAT'S IN MY BAG !! ‧ ₊˚

↺ ▪️ ࣪ ˖ ∿ 08.27.24 , what's in keikos bag !

「 keiko's masterlist 𖹭 」

╰┈➤ ❝ THIS IS MY FIRST VIDEO ALONE IM NERVOUS 𓂃 ! ❞

"i got home from work and realized i never did a what's in my bag." she said , "so now im all washed for the night , and it's quiet so i decided to do it now."

"i do have a lot of bags , but this is the bag i use the most , and it's the louis vuitton bag i got from fashion week." she said , showing the camera the bag.

"i take good care of this bag , it was a gift so i cherish it , and handle it with care." she said. "it also comes with a wallet , you can't put anything inside the wallet , but cards so of course that's what's in there — and i can't show you guys that of course." she laughed , "so let's just move on the bag , let's see what's in here."

"of course it's the obvious thing." she said pulling out her device. "my phone."

"what person goes anywhere without their phone , it's essential." she said. "most of the time i have a bag , but if it decide one day , hey i don't want to bring it , i still always make sure to have my phone." she said. "okay let's see what else."

"speaking of devices , my one and only true loves my headphones."

"this attachment things on them , sohee bought them , i saw them online and he got them for my birthday." she smiled. "i think they're so cool , they're like butterflies , isn't that cool?" she said.

"okay moving on from devices." she said. "we have a mini perfume." she showed the camera.

"it's by heretic , it's vanilla scented." she said. "i have a bigger one that i leave here , and this i take out for the day if i need to freshen up, or when i travel.

"okay next is my glasses , i do have a case don't worry , they aren't just in there." she laughed.

"i wear my glasses most of the time , except on stage of course , i wear contacts , but i wear these mostly , you know i don't really like contacts , but they helpful."

"and of course my babies , my sonny angels."

"my babies are clothed , they do not go out of the house naked , they're not heathens , i even made them little necklaces." she said. "i have like 10 of these little dolls , but these two come with all the time."

"and the last three things, besides my phone , these are also essential for me , my clawclip my lipgloss and hi-chews ."

"i feel like these are essentials for most girls, well not the hi chews that's probably just me — well no , maybe i don't know." she laughed. "and lip gloss of course, can't have dry lips." she said. "and claw clip , when the day is over and im too overstimulated , my hair just gets in the way , so gotta have that."

"okay , well that's everything." she said. "everything i carry with me to work or out on town." she said. "that's it , i guess ill be back soon with another video." she smiled , "bye I love you guys!"

©MAZEOFYENI

[emotionalmessss]

Punishments

A/N: lloyd hansen one-shot because I am obsessed with his character. sorry for any mistakes in advance. I tried to capture his character to the best of my abilities.

Synopsis: lloyd kidnaps six's girlfriend to get back at him.

Warnings: violence, torture, rape/non-con, humiliation, kidnapping, hostage situation, manipulation. This is dark. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 6.2K

My eyes slowly scan over the parking lot of the restaurant that I work at. The street lights had flicked on and barely illuminated the street beside me. I had worked over eight hours, greeting and waiting on people who would drink until they could barely stand and talk about their next business venture. High end restaurants often brought in many douche-bags, but it also provided me with good money. I would be lying if I said it did not pay off waiting on the old men who would eye up my body and slide me an extra hundred for my ‘services’. I learned to smile and laugh when this would happen, whilst holding in my puke.

Six had told me that I should just quit, and that I would be well provided for. Which was not something that I wanted to do. He was always working, and never really home. I loved him, but I always felt forgotten about. I barely knew anything about what he did, but it raised a few questions when I started to see the scars on his body.

“It’s for your own safety.” He would always say.

Sometimes I felt like it would be safer if I did know what his job was. I knew he worked for the government, and that he needed to be away for awhile. It had been a week since I last saw him, which was unusual.

I had to be shunned from everything in his work field. I was again told that it was for my own safety and security reasons.

Even with Six’s work putting a strain on our relationship, I always found that I completely forgot about it when I was with him. My past relationships had instilled an ungodly amount of insecurities and trust issues upon me. Since being with Six, I had begun to let go of those feelings and worries.

I let out a heavy sigh as my heels clicked against the pavement, removing myself from my thoughts and focusing on finding my car. It was not hard, since there were very few vehicles in the enormous parking lot. I had finished my last table for the night and was ready to get home and crawl into bed.

The night air left my body feeling hot and sticky, clinging to my skin like latex. I could not wait to get out of this dress and eat my leftover Chinese from the night before.

My fingers looped through the keychain that was attached to my car keys, pulling it out of my purse and swinging it back to my side. I pressed the unlock button a few times, hearing the beeping of my car in the distance.

I approached my black Audi, opening the driver side door and sliding in. I slung my purse over and onto the passenger seat, letting out another sigh. This was the first time I was able to sit down all night, except for the rare moments I caught a small break in the kitchen. I realized just how exhausted my legs were now that I was able to sit down. My feet were cramping up in the heels and my calves felt like they were going to collapse under my weight at any second.

My fingers tried to find the push start, fiddling around aimlessly in the dark. The car slowly rumbled to life and I reached around to grab a hold on the seat belt. It extended with a small whine and then stopped immediately, unable to wrap completely to the buckle.

“The fuck?” I said before I felt the excess belt wrap around my neck and pull tight. My hands immediately shot up to my neck, attempting to get the looped belt off of my neck. I strained as I felt it tighten against the soft skin of my neck, digging in painfully with every move I made.

My heeled foot slid off the brake in my panicked state and I went to scream.

It was short and shrill before I felt a sharp tug of the belt, causing me to cough and sputter as I slammed back against the headrest. A groan tried to escape my throat when I hit the seat, hard. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to get an understanding of my situation.

“Nice car. What is it? 2020 or 2021?” The voice came from the back seat. “It smells new, I would say 2021?” The voice continued as a cold sense of fear washed over my body as I remained silent.

My hands were still fighting with the seatbelt strap, wanting it off my neck.

“Don’t go doing that now, you’re going to hurt yourself.” His voice taunted as my eyes attempted to strain back to look at him. They were widened in panic and my breathing became erratic at the sound of his voice.

The man’s hand fell to my bare shoulder, keeping it there. I felt myself taking large gulps of air and glancing around wildly. “There’s money in my purse and you can take the car.” I rambled out quickly, my chest rising and falling quickly.

The man let out a deep chuckle and tightened his grip on my shoulder, reminding me that he was very much still here and this was not a dream. The cool side of a blade touched my jaw line, but now enough to break the skin. It was a silent threat, causing me to shudder and try to edge myself away from it.

The seat belt strained and the tip of the knife dug further into my neck.

I heard the man click his tongue and tsk at me, almost like he was disappointed in me.

The sound of him sliding closer on the leather seats filled my ears and my eyes darted up to the rearview mirror, where I was able to see a glimpse of his face. His eyes were bright, as if he was smiling at me, but I could not see the rest of his face. I also caught a glimpse of my own terrified eyes, which were illuminated by the dash of my car.

“I don’t want either of those things.” He purred, much closer to me now. His warm breath hit my ear and I could faintly smell chocolate on his breath.

“Then what the fuck do you want?” I whined, straining my head back to remove some of the pressure on my neck. Which only brought me closer to the man that rested directly behind me.

The man hummed. “I want a lot of things, but we’ll get to that soon.” He continued to taunt me, his lips grazing the side of my ear now. His breath was hot and wet, making goosebumps rise up on my bare arms.

I felt my mind shift over to Six for a moment, wondering where he was and what he would do in this type of situation. I also feared that I would not see him ever again after this moment. I wanted nothing more than to be at home with him, anywhere but here.

My eyes moved away from his, looking everywhere but at him. “Awe, you’re so nervous you won’t even look me in the eye, cupcake.” I clenched my jaw at his words and looked back into the mirror, locking eyes with him.

I opened my mouth to scream and tried lurching forward, my hands were reaching for the shifter as I slammed my foot onto the brake.

“Ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going?” The man said, grabbing onto the seat belt once again and pulling it tight again. He exhausted all of the belt and let it whine back up, keeping it tight without him touching it.

His free hand now covered my mouth and pulled me against the seat again. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman so eager to get away from me before.” His voice oozed out from beside me and I glared back at him in anger, unable to get any words out.

“You’re going to be a good girl now, or I’m going to put a bullet between those pretty eyes, okay?” The man sounded annoyed and humored all at the same time.

I did not react to his words until his hand squeezed my cheeks together, painfully. “Okay?” He repeated and I forced myself to nod in agreement. A rush of heat came up to my cheeks and I felt humiliated at his actions.

“Now, I think it’s time for you to take a little nap. You’re a bit cranky.” His voice mocked in a high tone as he released my cheeks.

My eyes widened in realization. I tried again, to launch myself towards my purse for my pepper spray that I kept in the console, in one last attempt to escape this strange man, but was caught by the belt. I felt a wet and smelly rag press into my nose and mouth and my head whipped from side to side, trying to get his hand off me. I involuntarily took a deep breath in when he pressed it into me.

“Tell me, does this smell like chloroform?” The man asked, his voice once again mocking me and my current situation. By the tone of his voice and the way his eyes squinted, I knew that he was smiling from ear to ear.

I tried to hold my breath as long as possible. My lungs felt like they were going to burst and I knew I would never be able to get his hand away from me, even with my hands attempting to pry it away from me. My vision began to grow fuzzy and my eyes rolled back as I let the darkness take over.

******** My eyes lazily adjusted to the light as I began to open them. My vision was blurry and gray in some spots. I blinked a few times, trying to get my vision to straighten out. After a few moments, it did. Although, I could feel a raging headache start to creep up behind my eyes.

I shook my head for a moment, trying to gather up as much information as I could. Work. Parking lot. Stranger. Knife. Kidnap. My mind raced with thoughts as I began to glance around. There was a blinding light above me and a dirty ground beneath me.

I tried to pull myself forward to stand, only to find out that I was tied to a chair by my arms and legs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My mouth felt dry and I also realized that there was a gag in my mouth, preventing me from screaming.

“Nice of you to finally wake up. Did you have a good nap? Feel refreshed?” A man stepped out from behind me, placing himself in front of me. He was smiling proudly as he looked down at me.

I narrowed my eyes on him as he cocked his head to the side.

“Are you into bondage or anything? I can’t help but note how good you look like this, cupcake.” There it was again, that sick nickname he came up with for me. It made me nauseous every time he said it.

I watched him nervously as he stepped forward and removed the rag from my mouth, dropping it to the ground. I shifted my tongue around freely and swallowed hard, still tasting the bitter rag on my taste buds. I flicked my gaze away from him and noticed my purse sitting on a shiny metal table a few feet from us. It was tipped over and my phone laid there, all out in the open.

“Are you worried your mommy called or something?” The man asked, seemingly understanding what I was thinking. He stepped back into my view as he walked over towards the table, his body standing tall and proud.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, trying to create some saliva in my very dry mouth. The feeling of the rag being stuffed into it was still present. My body was awkwardly tensed on the small chair that I sat on, feeling way too exposed in my current situation.

His back was turned away from me as he rummaged through my purse, throwing the contents all over the table. My eyes moved up and down his body. He was wearing a black turtleneck shirt that was tight around his muscular body and a pair of gray dress pants, along with some god awful loafers. His hair was slicked back and he had a thick mustache above his lip.

The man turned back towards me, his head cocking to the side. “Six.”

I sucked in deeply and frowned, averting my eyes for a brief moment at the sound of his name. “Why would you need me for him? You seem perfectly capable of finding him yourself.” I muttered back to him, rolling my eyes. I tried my best to maintain my composure around this man, something in the back of my head told me that he fed off fear.

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, his smile widening as he did so.

“He’s your boyfriend, isn’t that right? Where is he?” His back faced the table, which he was now leaning against casually. I refused to answer him, remaining silent. The man’s eyes closed for a moment as he shrugged. “I’ll get it out of you soon enough.” He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms as he eyed me.

I felt a flash of embarrassment. I knew that he was studying every inch of my overly exposed body and it made me feel sick to my stomach. His eyes paused for a moment at my exposed tits, which were shoved up by the bra I was wearing. I watched in humiliation as his eyes then scanned down to my legs, taking in every inch of them. I felt the anger and humiliation nip at my skin, trying to claw its way out. I wanted to make him feel the way he made me feel.

“And you have a horrible mustache.” I felt myself saying it before I could stop myself.

The man’s reaction surprised me. He began to laugh deeply, placing his hand on his stomach and bending his knees slightly. His hand went up to wipe his eye and he shook his head in amusement.

“Oh, you’re too funny!” The man laughed hard, too hard. Confusion washed over my face before I could hide it. I could not even blink before he was leaning over me, his hands placed on the armrest of the chair as he glared down at me. “But a little predictable don’t you think? Not very original.” The man deadpanned, his demeanor changing within a flash.

“I’ll ask this one more time before I resort to measures you won’t particularly enjoy. Where is he?” His threat was clear and promising, his grip on the armrest of the chair tightening.

The warmth of his body was discomforting, his body hovering over mine and making me feel tiny beneath his strong figure.I leaned back into the chair, attempting to create some distance between us. “I’m not telling you anything.” I argued back, knowing that I was testing his limits.

The man’s eyes glistened and he smiled, his shiny white teeth filling up his face. “Have it your way then.” He straightened himself as he began to reach into his pocket. I inhaled deeply, feeling like I could finally breathe again. I glared up at him in defiance, feeling the hatred for this man bubble up in my stomach. I had no idea what he wanted with Six. The less this man knew, the better.

“Lloyd!” A man came rushing through the door, causing us to both break our eye contact.

“What have I said about interrupting me when I’m working!” The Lloyd man spoke, seemingly annoyed. “Can’t you see I have a pretty guest waiting for me?” He shook his head slowly as he walked over to the man who called to him.

He tilted his head to the side as the man whispered something to him. I edged forward in the seat, trying to catch a word of what the man was saying. Lloyd’s eyes widened and he pursed his lips forward. “Who knew it would be that easy to get Six out of hiding with you. Looks like you’re more useful than I thought.” His attention turned back towards me, a toothy grin reappearing on his face.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” I played stupid as I tried to hide the feeling of fear at the sound of Six’s name. This was new information for me too, I had no idea where Six had been for the past week. My thoughts raced as Lloyd closed the distance between us once again.

“Don’t play dumb. Your boyfriend stole something rather important from me and ran, sunshine. And you’re the perfect leverage to get him out of hiding.” He pointed up and down to me, and I frowned. He knows too much, I cursed.

I looked up at him. “I have nothing to do with this. I haven’t seen him in-”

“A week or so?” Lloyd interrupted me, his smile taunting. I frowned deeper and averted my attention from him. “Does it ever get lonely?” He suddenly asked, taking a step closer to me. His hands were in his pockets and he leaned back slightly, as if he was catching up with an old friend.

“Does it ever get tiring being such a dick?” My eyes lazily flicked back over to him, barely giving him a second gaze before looking away again.

Lloyd’s eyebrows raised once more and he crossed his arms, his smile not changing. “Does it ever get tiring picking shitty boyfriends? Trying to fill the void that daddy left you with? Hm?” He rebutted, crouching down in front of me now. His shoes squeaked on the floor beneath him, adjusting to his new position, he looked up at me with a fake sense of sadness on his face.

My eyes widened for a moment and I sucked in a sharp breath. A new sense of anxiety washed over me now, one that I could not hide due to my shaking body. My teeth were clamped down so hard that I thought I might shatter my teeth. My cheeks heated up with anger and embarrassment. I didn't even want to know how he knew so much about my personal life, or what else he knew about me.

Lloyd was seemingly enjoying my reaction, he fake pouted as he rested his elbows on his knees. “You just can’t catch a break, now can you cupca-” I spat at him before he could finish his sentence. I knew I had met my target when he stiffened for a moment, his eyes closing and his nostrils flaring in anger as he let out a deep breath of air.

I instinctively leaned back in the chair and watched him with a stoic face. He fed off my reactions, and I was not about to feed into his sick mind.

Lloyd reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rag. He dabbed his face slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he breathed slowly, like he was trying to contain his anger. Once he was finished, he tucked it neatly back into his pocket.

His eyes finally opened as he looked back at me, anger flashing within them. “I’m going to gut you like a fish when Six gets here, but not before I kill him in front of you.” His threat immediately took me by surprise and my jaw dropped. So much for not giving him any more reactions.

“I- What? Six is coming here?” I blubbered, my face contorting up in confusion.

Lloyd chuckled, his reaction giving me the answer I needed. I was confused and scared, and he was enjoying every minute of it. His eyes were scanning me up and down, watching me with a new found excitement.

“Awe,” he mocked. “Are you sad our time is coming to an end, cupcake?” My eyes narrowed at his words and I turned my head away from him. This sick, twisted man was going to kill me. The only thing I knew was it involved Six, which is probably why he did not want to tell me much about his job.

“Opposite, actually. I’m glad I won’t have to look at your face anymore.” I twisted my head to the side and huffed. “And you should really consider shaving that thing off your face, you might end up on a sex offender list if you don’t.”

I turned my head back towards Lloyd as I heard him stand up quickly. “You know what, I’m going to enjoy this so much more now.” His words did not register in my brain until I heard the click of a knife. The metal flashed in the light and I flinched back into the seat, half expecting him to make word on his threat.

I squeezed my eyes shut and felt the ropes suddenly loosen from my body. I opened my eyes and in a flash, I was hauled up by my armpits and pressed into the wall behind me. My legs struggled to keep up with his long strides and I let out a small cry of surprise when my back hit the cool metal of the warehouse.

The air knocked out of my lungs and my head collided with the wall. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, desperately trying to get the air that had escaped my lungs, back inside me.

“Sorry about that, didn’t mean to bash your head there.” Lloyd was pressed into my body, his chest brushing against mine as I swayed slightly. His hand went up to rub the side of my head and I jerked away from him.

My eyes met with his and I groaned. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Lloyd’s tongue clicked and he chuckled. My arms were pinned to the sides of me, and even with my heels I had to look up at him. “Beautiful dress. Did Six buy this for you?” He let out a breathless sigh as I blushed at his words and turned my head away from him.

His eyes trailed up and down my body, his large hand moving to cup my waist. I shuddered and bit down hard on my lip. I turned my head back towards him, desperately trying to plead with this man silently.

Lloyd’s eyes were filled with excitement and a smirk pulled at his lips, he was once again enjoying my humiliation.

“Sorry to say that I’m going to have to ruin it.” He says as he tucks the knife back into his pocket.

Both his hands touch my waist now, slowly moving their way up to my tits. His eyes hungirly watched over my body like I was a piece of meat. His hands grasp at my breasts, kneading them through the material of my dress. A sigh of surprise leaves my lips and my skin riddles with goosebumps at his touch.

Another rush of humiliation washes over me and I turn my head to the side, no longer wanting to see him smirk at my demise. I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear him groan in satisfaction. My body reacts before I can stop it, I try to buck him away from me, only to have him tut and dig his hips harder into me.

“Are you going to be shy with me now?” He sneers at me, humor filling up his voice.

Lloyd’s hand finds the thin straps of my dress and he rips them in one strong pull. My dress drops slightly, exposing my tits and upper torso. I hear him suck in a sharp breath as he watches my tits bounce slightly from his hands tearing my dress.

“Hm. Would you look at that?” His head tilts to the side as a smirk pulls at his lips, all the while his bright eyes not leaving my chest.

Before I could say anything in response, his hands were cupping my tits again. I began to shake with fear as his thumb slipped into the dark material of my bra and flicked over my erect nipple. His eyes shoot back up to my red and teary ones, giving me a look of surprise.

“That’s a surprise.” His smug voice makes me want to spit at him again, but I decide against that idea almost immediately. “What if I just…” Lloyd mutters to himself as he tugs my bra down, my tits all out in front of him and I cringe.

He palms my exposed chest, his eyes glistening with amusement.

I shrink back into the wall and feel my lip start to quiver. My body was reacting to his touch and I could do nothing to stop it. I knew where he was going with this and there was nothing that I could do to stop him, which didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.

I tried to jam my knee up into his crotch but his reflexes were almost inhuman. His hand left my breast and caught my knee before I could reach my target. I groaned in fear and shook my head frantically.

Lloyd let out a humorless laugh. His hand gripped my thigh tightly as he rammed my leg back down to the ground. I wobbled as he jostled me against the wall, trying to adjust myself on my tall heels.

I sucked in hard when his knee wedged between my thighs, keeping them spread open for him. He leaned down towards me, his mustache tickling the side of my ear as he spoke slowly, “Too slow.” His knee parted my leg further and I cried out in fear.

“No!” I tried to fight back against him, only to have him lean further into me.

I felt Lloyd’s tongue press flat against my collar bone, trailing upwards to the lobe of my ear. His tongue left a trail of saliva on my skin that made me shudder and shrink back into the wall. My face contorted up with disgust and I whimpered.

Lloyd pulled back and looked at me, “Not into that?” He shrugged.

The soft material of his shirt pressed into my tits, rubbing against them every time he swayed or laughed. I knew he could feel it too. One of his hands locked onto my jaw, twisting it to the side as he began to kiss at my neck. While the other trailed down my waist, stopping at the hem of my dress.

“Fuck you!” I managed to cry out after not saying anything for so long.

Lloyd halted his actions and I felt a small vibration against my chest with his laughter.

“If you say so.” His voice was deep and gruff as he gripped onto my shoulders, ripping me away from the wall and taking me down to the ground with him. He landed on top of me and I cried out in pain when my back slammed against yet another hard surface.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said as he glanced around the room. “Maid is away on holidays.” He continued to taunt me as I lay beneath him. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. The fatigue had started to take over my body now. My muscles were sore and achy, but I refused to give in.

“Don’t you just look beautiful like this, cupcake.” Lloyd’s voice was deep and lustful, his breath fanned across my face as he spoke.

“You’re a sick man.” I growled back at him, my eyes narrowing dangerously back up at him.

Lloyd’s expression never faltered as he gave another toothy grin. “Never said I wasn’t.” His legs once again found their way between mine, spreading them wide for him. My dress strained due to its tight texture and I heard a few seams pop.

The cool air wafted between my thighs and I tried to close them back up, but Lloyd’s legs were much stronger than mine. His hand found its way between my thighs once again, fiddling with the hem of my underwear. His thumb pressed hard against the thin fabric and he chuckled.

“That’s another surprise.” I frowned in disgust at my own body reacting to this, feeling so ashamed.

His thumb moved up to my clit, rubbing the sensitive bud through my underwear. I bit down on my lip hard, feeling a tear slide down the side of my face. Lloyd’s thumb moved quicker and I started to breathe heavier. I soon felt the cool air hit my pussy as he slipped his middle finger inside me.

My mouth opened his shock as he began working his finger around inside me and on my clit.

“So wet for me, cupcake.” Lloyd groaned deeply, his eyes closing for a moment. “Hear that?” He stopped talking and picked up his movements with his fingers. I frowned in shame when I heard the wet, squelching noises that I was making.

I could barely take anymore of Lloyd’s taunts and my body betraying me.

“You’re loving this, cupcake. I wonder what Six would think if he knew what was happening?” I cried out at Lloyd’s words. His fingers left my heated core, lifting them up in front of my face. As much as I tried to deny the fact I was this wet, his fingers showed otherwise.

I opened and closed my mouth quickly, shaking my head as he watched me with an amused expression.

I suddenly felt his hand grip onto my jaw and his other fingers slam into my mouth. I cried out once again at the intrusion and strained my head back away from him. His fingers prodded around my mouth, making sure that I tasted myself. Lloyd laughed hard at my grimace and shrugged.

“More for me.” My pussy clenched at his words. His fingers retracted from my mouth and found the top of my dress, tearing the rest of it off of me. He bundled them up at the bottom of my legs and pulled at my underwear.

A shrill cry escaped my lips, his face now leering down at me. “Shh, shh.” His fingers pried my mouth open and stuffed my underwear inside. I gagged at the sudden intrusion and snapped my head to the side. My tongue rubbed against the soft material, trying to push it as far away from my throat as possible, so I wouldn’t keep gagging on it. His large hands slammed my jaw back shut, before I could spit it back out at him.

“That’s better, don’t you think?” He let out a heavy sigh and trailed his eyes along my body. His hands moved to find the buckle of his belt, the sickening sound snapping me back to reality as I laid there, stunned.

My body ached from holding up his weight for so long. I could feel my legs starting to cramp and my arms grow weak from all the fighting.

I couldn’t help but glance down as Lloyd moaned from above me. His cock sprung out freely, glistening with precum as he stroked himself. My body went cold and I tried to move back from him, only to earn a sharp glance from him.

“Now then.” I watched Lloyd wipe the sweat that had formed on his forehead. He leaned forward with a grunt and gripped onto my shoulder, flipping me over onto my stomach without so much of an ounce of struggle. My arms lay in front of me, outstretched and clawing at the floor. My tits press into the cold floor, sending another shiver down my back.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Lloyd warned as he pulled me back towards him. His hands grip at my waist, pulling my bare ass towards his cock. Saliva suddenly hits my bare pussy and I jump at the feeling. I feel his finger enter me once again, another joining soon after. My walls were stretching to their capacity and I groaned at the foreign intrusion.

“So wet for me.” He moaned. His fingers dug into my waist, keeping me flat against his body while his fingers thrusted in and out of me. My back arched awkwardly, trying to relieve some of the pressure that it was under.

“Lloyd!” I tried to cry out through the gag, but it sounded muffled.

His fingers curled inside me, my walls clenched around him and my face pressed into the cool floor. “You feel so good.” His voice purred from behind me as he pulled his fingers out from me. My head strained back to look at him.

“Don’t look at me with those pretty doe eyes when I’m fucking you like this.” He grunted as he placed his cock at my entrance. My eyes widened and I whimpered, trying to move my ass away from him.

Lloyd slapped my ass hard, the sting registering immediately and my ass reddening at his action. My ass slumped back against him as he rested his cock at my entrance. Without warning, he slammed into me. A sharp cry escaped my throat and fresh tears poured out of my eyes. Lloyd let out a loud and satisfied grunt, his thrusts not relenting.

My tight walls tried to adjust to his size, straining under the feeling of this throbbing cock entering me so hard and fast. My nails dig into the floor underneath me, trying to scramble away from the force being applied to my cervix.

“Oh no you don’t.” Lloyd catches me with one hand, bringing me back towards him. His hand tangles its way through my hair and he tugs my head back. My neck strains and I cry out. I open my mouth and push the gag out of my mouth, gasping for air.

“Please, stop this.” I cried, feeling his movement pick up as he slammed into me, over and over.

I was panting for air as he seemingly ignored my pleas.

My tits bounced as he rubbed his pelvis against my ass, digging into the soft skin painfully hard. My pussy feels like it's being split open and I cry out once more, wanting him out of me. My walls burn like fire and my body screams at me for release.

I feel Lloyd’s hands on my shoulders once more, flipping me over onto my back. My lips part in surprise, but only for a moment. Lloyd’s movements do not cease as he quickly leans down towards me. His lips meet mine, hard. My eyes snap open in surprise and I groan at the feeling. His mouth moved hard and sloppily against mine, his tongue invading my mouth and swirling around.

I bite down hard when I catch his bottom lip between my teeth, feeling the skin break beneath my canines and blood fill my mouth.

Lloyd cries out in surprise and pulls away from me. This time, he stopped his movements. His fingers touched his red lips, looking down at the blood on his fingers. His brows furrowed in anger and a low rumble came from his throat. His angry eyes meet back down to mine, looking at me with a whole new sense of rage.

“You stupid bitch!” Lloyd’s hand wraps completely around my throat, cutting off my air supply immediately. My lips burn from his mustache and his blood sits on my tongue, leaving a metallic taste.

“You want it rough? I’ll give it to you rough.” His hand tightens around my neck and my mouth hangs open.

He slams into me harder now, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling up the room. His cock rams into my core hard, making me cry out in agony and throw my head back. His hand never leaves my throat and I can feel my vision grow spotty. Before I can black out, his hand leaves my throat and pinches my nipple hard. He lowers himself down, sucking and biting down at the sensitive bud.

“You like to bite? So do I.” He growls and brings his hand back down to my clit. I feel him take the throbbing numb in between his two fingers and squeezing hard. My body jerks forward and I scream out louder, feeling a rush of heat up to my chest.

Lloyd continues to suck and nibble at my nipples, moaning to himself. “You taste so good.”

I cringe at his words and twist my body.

Time feels like it has slowed as his movements grow sloppy and more erratic. My vision blurs with tears and I feel them soak my cheeks. His cock twitches and throbs as he cums inside me, feeling me up with his hot and thick liquid.

His cock slips from my pussy, along with some of his cum, which had spilled down my thighs and onto the floor. I feel him push himself off me and stand up. My vision sways as I stare up at the bright lights.

“Let’s see what Six thinks of this.” Lloyd laughs.

[nomoreusername]

Silent Coffee Dates (Part 1)

Pairing:Sonya x female reader

Summary:When you go to return Sonya's book, you end up staying the night.

The routine hasn't changed for two years. Every Saturday morning at six I show up at Camila's Coffee, ordering every meal there as well, before coming back at seven in the evening. Approximately eight hours after me Sonya shows up. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I come here at four in the afternoon. She shows up around an hour later. After that I'm here any moment I can for the rest of the days knowing she won't be making an appearance.

That routine didn't stop today either. I was sitting at our booth in the very corner with my headphones in and sketch pad out. Beside me was a cup of hot chocolate. After all, I'm here for the peace. Not to taste a bitter drink.

Eventually, I only started showing up because she did. She sat across from me with either her book or her homework out and whatever drink she had decided to pick for the day. While she focused on that I lightly sketched her features. Occasionally, I would turn to other drawings and ideas that I had abandoned. Most of the time though it was her face I had on my paper since we were only together for a few hours. That isn't a lot of time for realism, but by now I'm sure I could draw her with my eyes closed.

As the sun started setting in the horizon she sighed before packing up her things. I just remained seated as I fixed the way I had drawn her hair just a little too dark. Without so much as a goodbye or see you later she was out the door. That was what was expected though. Despite being in our own little bubble at this place it was always popped when she left.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the already almost vacant shop completely filed out I packed my things. Once I slid out of the booth I saw a red book with no cover on the front. Giving into my curiosity I picked it up. The spine was cracked as if someone constantly folds it while reading. It also has that old book smell. The one that seems to be a mix of dust and ink.

Deciding that maybe I could discover the owner of I took a look I opened it and peaked inside. Written on the front was the name Sonya.

Now even though we've never exchanged any words I knew her name. I've seen her write it on paper, and now that I think about it I do recall her bending the spines when she reads. At least, she doesn't dog ear the pages. That would be a true tragedy.

One other thing I knew about her was where she lived. Before you assume anything I'm not a stalker. While we live in opposite sides of town I used to ride her bus when I would babysit this little kid. He's in middle school now, but I suppose that's unrelated to the story.

Thinking it through for a moment I slipped it in my bag and headed out the door. Seeing as it's growing dark and I'm a teenage girl I should really hurry up. If I'm going to give it to her I'd prefer not getting kidnapped along the way.

Getting on my old bike with its creaky wheels and rusted bell I slung my bag over my back. Putting up the kickstand I pushed off.

As the evening, autumn air brushed past my face I resisted the urge to burry myself in my old sweater. For one, I like being able to see. Second, I'm still in a hurry. Besides, if I hesitate to do this I may not do it at all.

While normally I would give it to her the next time I see her she brings this one with her every time. Clearly, it must have some meaning to her. Even if it doesn't she has to carry it with her for a reason. After all, my sketchbook goes everywhere with me. If I lost it I would tear my entire apartment apart until it was safe in my hands. If it wasn't there I'd go through every inch of my school, neighborhood, and everywhere else you can think. To sum it up I won't let her be worried that something happened to the item she's so attached to. Our silent coffee meetups indirectly meant we were friends. It just so happens we don't actually communicate.

It's better than nothing though. I'm much too used to having nobody. It doesn't seem like Sonya's leaving though, and that means a lot to me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As I was in her neighborhood I really took in the difference between ours. Before you make any assumptions I don't live in the ghetto. Not that I judge people who do. Some people are just in unfortunate situations.

To put it lightly my family's pretty broke so being back in this area that was hardly one step below a gated community is sort of like a culture shock.

As I carefully started walking my bike alongside me in fear of accidentally running into someone I heard quick shuffling and an irritated hmph. I turned around to see an older woman glaring at me. With a sigh and an eye roll I kept walking. How dare I walk in her big, fancy neighborhood when my clothes aren't all nice and ironed. My black hoodie obviously means I'm a criminal mastermind.

People like her really need to get a life. It doesn't seem healthy to be so worried about strangers. As I stated earlier I'm a teenage girl. What could she possibly be thinking that I'm capable of?

As I rounded a corner I spotted someone I hadn't seen in a while. While his hair was still in unruly curls, and he was as happy as I remembered, he had grown a significant amount.

"Hey Chuck,"I called. He snapped his head towards me before his eyes lit up.

"Hi Y/N,"He excitedly waved. Deciding it couldn't hurt I headed over and put my kickstand down.

"What have you been up to? How's middle school treating you?"I asked.

"It's alright,"He shrugged. "I kind of miss you getting to babysit me though,"He admitted, putting babysit in air quotes. He was a good kid so I basically just made dinner, made sure he was got to bed on time (which was negotiable on weekends) and made sure he didn't do anything dangerous. Sometimes, it felt more like hanging out with a friend.

"You're twelve now. You don't need me to look after you,"I reminded him, ruffling his hair. He swatted at my hand while still wearing his bright grin.

"I'm not twelve. I'm twelve and a half,"He defended.

"Of course Chuck. I'm sorry for forgetting,"I chuckled.

"What are you doing here anyway?"He asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm returning something to my friend,"I explained.

"Can I come?"He quickly asked, almost bouncing on his heels.

"It's getting late, Chuck."

"Please. It's a Friday."

"I just don't want you to be out after dark,"I explained.

"But I'm chivalrous, and I'll listen to you,"He promised.

"If your mom says so then I guess I'll let you come,"I gave in. He sprinted to his house before yelling though the door.

"Can I go walk around the neighborhood with Y/N?! Please!"He begged. After a moment she came outside and looked for where I was. When she spotted me she walked over and hugged me.

"You've grown so much. Look at you. You're almost taller than me,"She exclaimed, pulling away. If I'm being honest she's sort of like a second mom to me. They're pretty much my other family. This place was my home away from home. Even though I don't work for them anymore I know they wouldn't mind having me over. Not that I would ask though. Requesting things from someone isn't something I do.

"Where are you going? Especially, when it's getting late. You don't exactly live a short walk away,"She pointed out.

"I'm just returning something to a friend,"I explained. "And Chuck was asking if he could go with."

She looked at me before looking back at her son who was still practically begging. With a nervous sigh she shook her head.

"Not tonight, but if you'd like we'd love it if you stopped by after. Even better, I could drive you?"She offered.

"Thank you, but I'm alright. I'll come over another time though,"I promised.

"Are you sure? It's not a problem,"She reassured me. Knowing that she meant her words I still had to decline.

"Okay dear. Be safe, and if something happens you know where we are."

"I know. Goodnight Chuck. Be good."

"I will,"He responded, a hint of disappointment in his tone. After repeating that I would stay for dinner another day, I got back to my original goal.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I approached her house the streetlights were already on. Despite this place being safe I was quick to get to her door. Ignoring the chills running down my spine I rang the bell. I just enjoy being able to do that since we don't have one.

The sound of a dog barking and muffled talking sounded through the thick wood before someone finally opened it. Instead of it being Sonya or even her parents it was her brother. He eyed me up and down before looking at me in a curious way. I suppose that's valid since I generally don't interact with many people.

"Sonya left her book,"I explained, pulling it out of my bag. Just as I handed it to him she appeared from behind him with a big, white dog trailing behind her.

"Y/N?"She asked.

"Yeah. I gave Newt your stuff. You left it at the shop,"I repeated.

"It's pretty late. Did someone drive you?"She asked, seeming more concerned about me than relieved about her returned item.

"I biked. Anyways, I'll get out of here now."

"It's dark out. Why don't you stay?"She offered, holding her dog back from bolting out the door. Why is everyone trying to do things for me today?

"No. It's honestly fine."

"So you're going to go all the way to your home but yourself? It takes me twenty minutes just to get out of my neighborhood. Being all alone at night is not a good idea,"She pointed out. I just shrugged as I kept my hands in my pockets.

"At least, call your parents and wait for them."

"I don't have a phone,"I admitted.

"Then, use ours,"She suggested. Tired of the way she was so persistent on helping me out I finally accepted as Newt awkwardly gestured for me to come in.

"Do you know the number?"She asked.

"Yeah. Where's your landline?"

"Our what?"Newt asked, speaking his very first words to me.

"Your landline. You know? The home phone connected to the wall?"

"We don't have one, but you can use my cellphone,"She said, unlocking it and handing it to me. After mumbling a thanks I typed in our number.

It rang once then twice before a beep was heard. Despite that usually mean somebody answered I still waited to see if it really was that.

When not even the hint of breathing was in the other end I knew it was just malfunctioning. I hung up before handing it to her.

"No luck so I guess I'll just bike home,"I shrugged.

"Just stay the night. We have the room,"She assured me. That wasn't the problem though. Accepting help isn't something I know how to do.

"I don't have any extra clothes,"I explained. While that didn't really matter I was looking for an excuse.

"You can burrow mine."

"I don't have a toothbrush."

"We have an extra."

"I don't have-"

"Anything you're worried about we have. Just stay until morning,"She repeated.

"But your parents-"

"Aren't home and wouldn't mind. Besides, you really want to go out there alone on a Friday night?"She pointed out.

"I guess not,"I mumbled.

"So?"She asked.

"So I'm staying the night,"I gave in.

All I wanted to do was return a book. Now I think I really should have waited until Monday.

Sonya's P.O.V

I showed Y/N to the bathroom so she could shower before going to find some clean night clothes for her. While digging through my drawers Newt quietly entered my room and expectantly looked at me.

"Why do you know Y/N?"He asked.

"We hang out at the same spot,"I vaguely explained, pulling out a pair of black sweatpants and a plain top.

"Is that why you're gone all those days?"

"Maybe. Does it matter?"

"If it's her then yeah,"He whispered.

"There's nothing wrong with her,"I defended.

"Really? Come on Sonya. We've all heard the stories. Everyone knows her name. She skips school to do who knows what-"

"Which isn't anyone's business. They're just rumors, and even if they're true we don't know the full story,"I pointed out.

"What good reason is there for that?"

"I don't know, and I'm not going to ask. Whatever she does she has her reasons, but she's not a bad person Newt. Don't judge her when you've barely heard her voice,"I sighed.

Just as he was about to reply the water turned off. Quickly shooing him out of my room I knocked on my bathroom door. She held her hand out through a small crack, and I handed her the clothes.

Taking a seat on my bed I pulled out the book she had returned while I waited for her. Coming all this way to return it was an odd decision to say the least. Especially, if she had to get here in foot. Still, it's a sweet gesture.

"I'm dressed,"She said, walking out of the bathroom and twisting her damp hair into a loose ponytail. She shivered in the tank top subtly rubbing her hands together.

"Hold on one second,"I instructed, going to my closet. Glancing around, I looked for something warm but not too tight or completely unfit for bed. After a moment I found a plain, purple sweater. Running my hands over the fabric, I was relieved when it was a soft texture.

I headed back out of my room and handed it to her. Without a word she slipped it over her head. Thankfully, it fit like a charm.

"Thank you,"She mumbled, her voice seeming naturally soft. Hearing her speak was different but in a good way. It is a bit unusual that she seems less shy when she's not speaking, but it doesn't matter. Honestly, I'm just glad that she's staying the night.

"We should still have leftovers. Are you hungry?"I asked.

"No,"She answered quickly. Before I could respond her stomach growled, showing the exact opposite.

"Okay. A little bit,"She admitted.

"You should have told me. Come on Y/N. Let's get you something to eat."

"Yeah. Okay,"She agreed, following me down the stairs.

This is seriously the girl people say is trouble? Yeah right, and even if she is there's always a reason people are the way they are. All I care about is that she has a kind soul, and she definitely does.

All Parts

[password-door-lock]

Mystictober Day 7-- Festival/Music

[Set after Gummy Worms.]

You find Saeran backstage, tuning his guitar for what has to be the fifteenth time this evening. “Nervous?” You ask, ignoring the comfy-looking office chair to establish yourself on the floor beside him.

“Hm,” Saeran agrees, “Needs new strings.”

“Well, if only you had like a million of those,” you quip, withdrawing a package of strings from your bag and tossing them to him. “You're welcome.”

“Thank you, prince(ss),” Saeran deadpans, though you can tell he's serious about his gratitude— after all, he leans in just a little bit closer, brushing his shoulder against yours. “I thought I was going to have to keep coming back here for tuning all night. How did you know?”

“I may not be a guitar expert, but I know that lots of tuning means it needs to be restrung,”  you explain, “And I knew that security would lose their minds if you tried to leave, Mr. Headliner. Good thing I'm non-essential, right?”

“You're essential,” Saeran assures you, already laying his guitar down to begin restringing it. “And they couldn't stop me from leaving.”

You suppose he does have a point— Saeran has a history of showing up late for his own performances, though, in  his defense, instances of this have become few and far between since he broke his contract with Mint Eye Entertainment and established himself as an independent artist. You suppose that nobody would be able to do very much about it if he decided to leave the festival and come back later, even if he missed his set time. “Well, you have me,” you point out, “So you don't need to.” You wrap your arm around his waist, careful not to disrupt his careful work.

“I'm glad,” he hums, clearly focused on removing the old strings from his favorite guitar. For the vast majority of Saeran's career as the idol Unknown, he smashed almost every instrument that he purchased , so he never had much time to get attached to them. Now that his shows are few and far between, he's had the freedom to develop a bond with this specific guitar, which he has affectionately nicknamed MC.

“Are you nervous?” You can’t help but ask again. It's his first show in a while, after all.

“Not really,” Saeran admits, “I'm looking forward to playing. It's been so long since I had a big audience.”

“You've got a lot of fans out there,” you report, “I think I even saw some Unknown merch.”

“Hm.” You can tell that Saeran is lost in thought as he works on changing the next string.

“What's on your mind?” You ask, tightening your grip a little bit. It's so nice to be alone together backstage before the chaos really begins— the openers will be here soon, and, like everybody else, they'll be chomping at the bit to meet Saeran. You suppose you can't really blame them— he's pretty cool, after all.

“This festival invited me four times,” he reports after a few more moments of consideration, “But Mint Eye turned them down every year. They wouldn’t let me do anything that didn’t make them any money.” Of course the festival that Saeran is playing at this evening would fall into that category— its claim to fame is that all of the proceeds from ticket sales go to charity. 

“Oh,” you breathe. “They wouldn't let you play charity shows?” From what you know about Mint Eye, this revelation is not exactly a surprise.

He shakes his head. “That was why I set the bass on fire.”

You can't help but smile, remembering the famous stunt. “Of course it was.” Even when he was trapped in that horrible contract, Saeran was never afraid to stand up for himself. He's one of the bravest people you know, and he always has been. “I'm proud of you.” You press a kiss to the top of his head. “You're gonna do great out there.”

“Mhm,” Saeran hums, clearly flustered by your sudden display of affection. But he sets his guitar down, halfway through restringing it, to squeeze your hand in silent thanks. “Of course I am.”  He replaces his expression of open-mouthed wonder with a smug smirk. You really should have seen that coming.

“I love you.” You figure that you'd better let him know now, before the backstage area gets too crowded. Saeran isn't big on public displays of affection for a multitude of reasons.

“I love you, too,” he replies, giving you a kiss on the cheek before returning to his work.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

(#gdi. I'm crying, so we ball. I've been invested, so this hurts.)

Just, give these flowers to Eros, okay? I didn't know what he liked, so I got a bunch of different ones - some sunflowers, hibicus, and tulips in different colors and some coffee candy, for when he wakes up and gets better. It's probably not as good as the real thing, but easier to sneak in than an actual coffee cup.

And..Cupid. For you too. Here's a bento and some bread from the bakery, along with a few other giftcards to some grocery stores and stores. I take it you haven't really been sleeping or eating well after everything. And I figure this could help somewhat. One less thing to worry about. And don't worry, this is no strings attached. It's never easy to deal with something like this.. I hope it helps.

I lament that I cannot do more to help, but just know if you need to talk or need a friend to go on an errand with, I'll listen.

And I'd like to think I'm not alone there.

Or if you'd rather be distracted, I can help too.

Just take care of yourselves. Both of you, okay? We still have a lot to do- a lot to look forward to. Like going to all the animal cafes and petting all of them. And having a picnic.

...

"Thank you. I'm sure he'll like these. She always told me that her favorites were hibiscus, but it may be because of its meaning."

The soft beeping of the monitor echoed as Cupid stayed beside Eros. From the looks of things, they look so... Worn. Their previous joyous attitude had been robbed of nothing, and their eye bags were evident than the weeks without you seeing them.

It wasn't that bad before... Maybe they masked it with makeup, so you wouldn't see just how tired they are.

Holding Eros's hand, their eyes looked over at the flowers. They always admired Eros for what she's done, even when people seem to criticize her. So now that she's in danger...

...

"... I haven't left them ever since they were in recovery."

The doctors tried. They genuinely tried. However, Cupid was inconsolable. How could they? It was their friend that had their life on the line— obviously that wasn't an option.

"I didn't want to spend an hour without them— I fear that if I did, they'd wind up dead without my supervision," they explained to you, their voice weak as they held onto their unconscious friend. "It's... An irrational fear. I've always feared it happening, especially those dreams I've been getting."

Their trips with the hypnotist didn't help. Not in the slightest. If anything, it felt like it got worse— even to the point of being unable to sleep for days.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," they told you, holding back the urge to cry for the umpteenth time. "It's just... So much has happened from the weeks we spent working. My boss was being strict with what he wanted us to do for Valentine's, I couldn't go here for weeks... And this had to— it had to happen at the day I could even get access again."

...

They were struggling to not cry. It was clear with how they're blinking so much, even when you've left them gifts so they can eat and... Be able to care for themselves.

"... I'm tired. I'm exhausted for working over Celestia Inc.," they admitted. "I... Can't handle this. I can't handle losing a friend."

Ah, it seems you broke the dam. Though, they didn't seem to notice with how they're sobbing, trying to wipe their tears with the tissue that the nurses were kind to give to them.

Loss was never something they can handle. They could handle everything, but that is what they're so... Terrified of. That losing a friend is the thing that could make them grieve.

It, ironically, shows that even they have their limits.

"I— we— don't want to break our promise to you guys. I promised Eros that— that I'd resign when I'm done, that we will finally be able to leave with nothing attaching us to this sick company," they sobbed, their hand gripping on the tissue. "And yet— yet, they had to get hurt. Someone had it out to kill my friend!"

...

"I want this to stop... We want this to stop."

But we can't. Not anymore.

Unbeknownst to them, you see one of the hibiscus flowers lose a petal.

Even positivity can never reach a heart that's too deep in sorrow.

[jeansplaytoy]

‘ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .

part two.

arminxreader, please read part one first , strict parenting (reader and armin), basically everything in the last chapter.

after that, things just started going how they were going for the rest of the months. it wasn’t really anything with feelings attached, it was more like… a talking every now and then but not seeing each other a lot type of relationship.

but word gets around. quick. and rumors are always spread.

“so who’s this boy that people keep telling me about?” your mom asked. you shrugged your shoulders and frowned a little. “nobody. my friend.”

“and you never decided to tell me about this friend?”

“never thought about it.”

“you know you always gotta tell me when you make new friends. you don’t know what these boys be wanting these days. especially from a girl like you.”

you squinted at your mom from the side of your eye as you washed the dishes. “what that mean?”

“they don’t want nothing but a baby from you. most of em. that’s what they want from all these girls.”

“i ain know you knew armin personally.” you glanced back at her with a mutter. your mom raised her eyebrows. “it happened to me once. and it’s not about to happen to you.” she stated with a stern voice. “well, ma, that’s you. and we ain’t the same people.” you tried to say it in the kindest voice you could do she wouldn’t take it as you catching an attitude or something.

but all she did was hum. “alright. just tell me if he does something to you.” she tilted her head at you.

turning the sink off and drying your hands, you sighed. “i’m bouda go over onys to study. i’ll be back later on.” you said, grabbing your bag from beside the door and slipping your slides on.

“studying on a friday?”

“our last test for the year is monday. planning to do it for the whole weekend. like good people.” you opened the door, saying bye to your mom before shutting it behind you.

meanwhile at onys house, was sasha, ony, and armin. the now, normal “study” group.

“why the fuck she always late? this why ion plan nothing wit her.” ony smacked his lips, standing at his door, waiting for you. “onyan, she’s the first one that you invite to anything so shut up.”

“y/n?” armin glanced up from his phone. “ian know she was coming.”

“yeah, nigga. told her to be over here at 3 o’clock, it’s 5. gettin dark already.”

“you ain’t actually finna study so what you complaining for?” armin stretched one of his legs which sitting on the couch. sasha laughed at armin’s joke and continued to egg ony on about how he was complaining about literally nothing.

as some minutes passed, that’s when you finally showed up.

“took you long enough. i shouldn’t even let you in.” ony muttered, moving aside to let you in. you frowned at him without saying anything. “i’m bullshittin’.”

“shut up ony, hey sasha, hey.. armin.” you said, waving at him. ony didn’t even tell you armin was gonna be there. “ony was just shit talkin bout how you was taking too long.”

“ony can kiss my ass.” you said, sitting beside armin as sasha sat on the floor, already pulling out a notebook and as ony sat on a different couch.

a few silent seconds passed and ony smacked his lips. “man this shit weak. y’all wanna play a game?”

“we don’t got enough people for a game you dumb fuck. you be tryna play them sexual games anyway.” sasha slowly shook her head. “okay? mikasa and eren coming anyway, you act like we ain’t all kiss each other in elementary before.”

“no, you just like that shit.”

“bro, i kissed you as a dare and then y/n because we went together for a day and mikasa because we went together for a week and then you kissed jean and you kissed y/n too cus you wanted to see how it felt to kiss a girl and-“

“ight, ony. we get it.” armin said with a slight frown.

“exactly. tell jean, eren and mikasa to come over. i wanna play some games.” you said, closing your notebook.

“i mean i could move that party from tomorrow to tonight…” ony pursed his lips together while looking around.

everybody looked at each other.

so one thing turned into another thing, which turned into another thing, meaning you had to go home, lie to your mom that you were going out to eat with friends she didn’t know, and then change into… better clothes when you finally made it to the party.

you fixed your makeup in the bathroom and put the rest of your bags in onys room before locking the door back and fixing your hair. you peeked in the bathroom to check you makeup one more time before walking downstairs to see where everyone was.

it wasn’t gonna be too long before everybody started getting drunk and going back upstairs.

“connie, you know where everybody at?” you asked, looking around. connie smacked his lips for a few seconds while looking around with you. “ion see nobody. check outside or sum.”

you clicked your tongue and slowly shook your head. you just walked over to the kitchen and poured yourself sum to drink, the kitchen was almost crowded anyway, and the speakers ain’t make it no better. and just wait til the lights went off.

you took a sip of your drink and headed outside, walking around to find where everybody else was. but the only person you saw was armin.

“where you goin?” he mumbled, hands resting in his pockets.

you looked up at him and hummed. “where you goin?” you asked back. “woulda been home if i ain’t see you right here.” he said, glancing past you. you raised an eyebrow and slowly nodded.

“well… you know where anybody else at?”

“nah, ion even think they made it back yet. but that’s surprising cus you here early.”

“you sure talk a lot. it wasn’t like this when we was randomly having conversations.”

armin laughed a little. “i ain’t know you drink.”

“i don’t.” you stared up at him while taking another sip of your drink.

“tuh. yeah.” armin muttered, a vibrating noise in his hoodie pocket coming soon after. he pulled out his phone with the sigh and bit his top lip. “shittt.”

“what happened?” you tilted your head, looking at his phone a little.

“my dad. he bein a bitch. as always.”

“he want you to go home?”

armin smacked his lips and slowly nodded. “like i said, as always. he do that every time i’m out past bout… ten sum.”

“it’s past ten?” you frowned, checking your phone. “what the fuck.” you whispered.

“what? daddy don’t let you stay out this late either?”

“my mom, she don’t let me stay out that long past eleven. even though i’m 18, she say it’s ’because i’m still under her roof and need to focus on school.’” you smacked your lips. “a buncha bullshit if you ask me.”

“i thought you get anything you want. shit, my dad gon yell as soon as i get in the house, i already know.” armin took a deep breath while scratching his head softly.

“yours yells? my mom silently judges every damn thing i do, bro.”

armin clicked his tongue with a smile. “i thought you was problem free when we first met. or when we first got close.”

you stared up at him for a few seconds before slowly nodding. “i thought you was like that too…”

you’re stares held for a couple seconds before armin softly scoffed with a small smile. “you crazy.” he shook his head slowly. “how?” you rolled your eyes playfully.

“givin me looks. i know you do that to everybody.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, almost offended. “what dumb bitch told you that?”

“ian that dumb. and i ain’t no bitch either.” armin raised his eyebrows while resting his eyes, grabbing your cup and taking a long sip as he walked past you, tossing the cup on the ground.

“can’t be drinking allat. ima see you in a minute.” he mumbled, waving you off.

your lip twitched and you smacked your lips. “stupid.”

part three here.

[honeystwiggypeach]

Can i please request a part 2/continue of this https://honeystwiggypeach.tumblr.com/post/693214155838210048/hi-im-really-enjoying-your-haikyuu-dad-stories (of Kenma ad oikawa) 

Yess!!! I really wanted someone to request that😭I think I would have eventually write it even if it wasn’t requested so thank you so much for requesting!!!

Part one!(what anon linked!)

Also very sorry this took so long to write I had school!

Light tw~ angst to fluff(I think this is fluffier??) let me know if I missed anything!!

Kenma

Two weeks later you and Kenma have planned a cute little day for Yuta to meet his dad.

You’d both decided since it was warm out that you should go somewhere indoors where Yuta’s never been eventually deciding that the aquarium was one of the better options, where you’d practically begged Kenma to go on one of your first dates to, he ended up enjoying it after some grumbling.

“So do you remember who mama told you we were going to meet?” You ask as you strap Yuta’s little shoes to his feet.

He nods excitedly “who?” Yoh ask just to be sure he knew.

“Dada!” He practically shouts as he jumps up from the bench.

After a car ride filled with hundreds of “are we there yet”s and a few “mama where are we going” paired along with “mama where are we?” Yoh finally put your car into park beside Kenma’s as you get out unbuckling Yuta and setting him down before you grab your diaper bag.

Throughout the day you watched Kenma chase after Yuta listening intently as he rambled on about finding Nemo and any other facts he knew about fish.

“This is nice” you whisper standing infront of the same aquarium you’d had your first kiss with Kenma near.

He hums thoughtfully, “missed you a lot” he whipsers squeezing your hand lightly and you find yourself smiling softly as you look towards the floor, Yuta sleeping against Kenma’s shoulder.

Oikawa

Somehow against your will you find yourself sitting across from Oikawa and Hikari babbling back and forth as you wait for your drinks in a little cafe and Hikari a little cake.

It melts your heart the way she smiles up at Oikawa already like he’s molded the world just for her, and if you didn’t know your own situation your certain you’d think he did.

“Yea, what next?” He asks causing her to babble right back at him chattering as a little cake gets set infront of her.

She taps her hand against the table waiting for you to pick up the spoon and give her a bite.

“Ahh” you tell her as you try and give her a bite but she simply turns her head away a little huff coming from her.

“Let me see” Oikawa says softly taking the spoon and successfully feeding her.

You roll your eyes, of course she was going to be like this.

As the day progresses, she grows more and more attached to Tooru. Even going as far as asking for him to tuck her in when the two of you get home.

And you can’t say no when she pulls those puppy eyes, the same ones Tooru would flash all those years ago.

Eventually as you shut the door Oikawa behind you, he stops you hand placed gently on your arm, “do you think I could ever get a second chance?”

You stare at him, he can’t be serious right now? Oh but he is, he is dead serious.

“I don’t know Tooru” you sigh out, “probably, we’ll just have to see how it goes won’t we.” You give him the smallest hint of a smile as you open the door motioning for him to exit.

Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see me write because I love writing requests!!!

[sukirichi]

reckless [01.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. explicit smut, accidental pregnancy, playboy! gojo, slight angst

✘ note. dedicated to wifey @7tsumurai​ who also made the banner and always supports me and showers me with love aaaa i love you baby <3 also this fic is mostly romance and fluff so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! thank you to @chosonore​ for pr-ing UWU. and we get like...10-15 chapters of this?!

one  ✘  two  ✘  three

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The night was young; streaks of gold flashing with the shimmering jewellery collared on your neck, the romantic humming of the violins pairing perfectly with the champagne that fizzed in your hand. It was supposed to be another day at work where you accompanied your boss to one of his events, considering the Casanova refused to bring his girlfriends in fear they might get the wrong idea he liked them outside the bed. It should be just another day at work; you’ve accompanied him hundreds of times before. Today wasn’t any different.

And yet it was.

You blamed it on the alcohol. On the slow dancing. On the fact he hadn’t stopped complimenting you all night and you’d been so stressed, the amount of planning and sleepless nights sacrificed in exchange of preparing for this event made you grab for three more flutes, the touch of your undeniable attractive boss permanent on your waist.

Satoru was equally aggravated. You’d worked him long enough to recognize even the smallest of cues, and the fact you’d spend nearly every hour of the day working with him for weeks straight in the office let you know he needed to let off some steam.

And what better way to relieve both of your tensions if not to give in to the cloud of lust?

The sultry gazes, the clashing perfumes between rose and musk, and the alcohol – the fucking alcohol – that gave way to you succumbing to your desire just this once.

There were no more thoughts – or if there were, they were muddled – as you kissed him back just as passionately, forgetting the fact his stylist spent an hour gelling his hair back to perfection as your eager fingers traced over his scalp. How you ended up in the back of limousine was beyond you, and neither was it your biggest concern when Satoru insisted you kept your heels on; his large hands caressing all the way from the ankle pressed beside his waist up to your waist.

You felt his daft fingers move the lacy thong you wore especially for tonight (not because you expected something, but the boost in confidence felt necessary) before he slides inside almost too easily.

Both your gasps and moans are swallowed in the stuffy compartment, windows fogged saved for the handprint you’d left when he hit a sensitive spot. He was moaning in your neck, skin slippery and sweaty as you slid from one another, seemingly never staying from one place as your hands treaded through his hair down to rake your nails on his back; his touch angry on your hips before his thumb found home in your clit.

As much as you hated him, hated his reputation, you couldn’t deny he really earned his title for being an absolute god in sex. You were no virgin, but you’d never felt this good, never felt this alive as bruises began to form in your skin and his lips hungrily sought out yours.

“S-Sir...”

“Satoru,” he corrected through your lips, the kiss barely even one when you were too busy moaning left and right. Satoru hitched your leg up to fold it right beside your waist, allowing him to explore deeper territories that not even you could mark.

His stare on you is perverted; openly wanton as he lets his empyrean gaze snake down to where your bodies connected. It was embarrassing to be this spread wide open for him, though it didn’t matter much, not when you clutched onto his bicep for dear life and panted breathlessly. He was kissing you everywhere – smearing your lipstick all over your lips and his, a stain of red on his hard, white collar and love bites marked deep into your collarbones and under your breasts. You tightened around him once he changed his rhythm into a more sensual one; the quick pace replaced with him pulling out slowly – inch by delicious inch until you felt empty with each growing second – before slamming back inside with fervidity that he never quite possessed behind his desk.

He groaned at your walls clenching down on him, his hips stuttering in the process. “Call me Satoru.”

“Satoru,” you moaned out, and his next sounds were pained. Pained because you sounded too gorgeous, felt too good, and with you following his hips thrust by thrust, neither of you would last any longer. Not even as you shake your head, lips swollen as you remind him, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a curled lip, sweat beading from the streaks of his white hair. “But I want you – god, you’re so beautiful tonight. Need to fuck you good—”

Gojo Satoru, one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire South East Asia and ranked as the second richest man in his early twenties, was a man of his word despite his reputation. Just as he was praised and fawned over for his beauty, charisma, and power, he was equally hated for breaking the hearts of women and treating his past ‘lovers’ like they were objects. The news were so confident of it; that he fooled them, played around with them, but behind the scenes, you knew Satoru wouldn’t do such a thing – from the first time he laid his eyes on someone, he made it extremely clear they were not to be attached. Everything with him was physical and sensual – anything beyond that would simply be out of character.

You weren’t surprised that he really did keep his word and fuck you good, because you couldn’t feel your legs the next morning and even though it had been hours, you still very much felt the shape of him carve through you.

The bastard wouldn’t stop laughing, of course, snickering under his breath every now and then each time he saw you grimace from doing simple things such as standing up and giving him the files he asked for. Perhaps it was because your dislike for him was apparent that Satoru quickly went back to fooling around, pretending you didn’t exist and only approaching you when need be. There were still moments you had to clean his mess up for him; taking his drunken phone calls at 3am because he got wasted in a bar, or doing the same for his current sex buddy who he didn’t want to stay in his home.

He was terrible, terribly awful that you despised this part of him.

You were only grateful enough that neither of you brought that night up ever again, for no matter how immensely hellish of an experience it had been, it was also something you’d really rather not be reminded of.

But now, there was no more running away from it. The truth stared at you blatantly in the form of two white lines that had appeared four times already from previous tests.

You were pregnant.

The world had never been that heavy on you. You had a rough upbringing, but it was a household filled with love and patience that it was innate in your nature to keep strong, be levelled, continue moving forward even during the times it felt like everyone and everything was going against you. You’d been through so much worse and you can do this, but you still couldn’t stop the tears that pushed from your eyes, your heart shattering the same time you dropped the stick.

“No, we won’t cry, it’s okay. I can handle this – I’m strong,” you repeated to yourself like a mantra, taking deep breaths to stabilize yourself. Clearly, this was unexpected, but you wanted to do your best, had to do your best. You didn’t have time to lose your composure, so you quickly fished your phone out your purse to dial the person you trusted the most.

“Rei...?”

Your best friend picked up on the second dial. “Sweetheart, where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for like hours now and you’re not picking up, I heard you called in sick for work and you never do that even when you’re about to pass out!” Some shuffling could be heard from the background before she spoke again, her tone a lot more gentle in response to your muted sniffles. “Is there something going on? Do you need me to drop by there right now? Tell me what you need; I’ll be there right away.”

“No, no, Rei, it’s fine, I just...”

“Sweetie,” she sighed, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see it. Rei had been there for you in everything, starting from when you newly arrived in the city; fresh-eyed and hopeful for new opportunities. She’d been there when you first complained your boss was a creepy flirt, all the way until you’d made peace with said boss and remained firm in your boundaries. But those boundaries had clearly been crossed – no, rather, you erased those boundaries. You were drunk enough to give in to the need to be touched, but sober enough to consent to everything that happened. You couldn’t place this all on him.

“I’m pregnant,” you said eventually, voice barely above a whisper as you added, “And Satoru’s the father.”

Rei stopped munching on her – you assume – bagel.

“Satoru? Gojo Satoru, your boss, bonafide casanova, the face on billboards and one of the most “eligible” bachelors in the country, billionaire Gojo Satoru?” she let out in one breath, the image of her flipping her hand out in the air in disbelief as clear as day. “Am I really hearing this right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”

You sighed.

“We were drunk. I slept with him.”

“Did that bastard force himself on you?”

“No, gosh, never,” you defended with widened eyes, sitting back down on the toilet with the lid now closed. You couldn’t look at the tests even if you dared yourself to, the plastic bag concealed in the garbage or else you’d feel sick all over again. “I-I wanted it too...we just got carried away and the night was just...I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me and why I did that, but there’s no point in fretting about it because I’m carrying his baby now.”

“Well,” she started unsurely, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m keeping it. There’s no way I would even consider abortion.”

“But what about him?”

The back of your head throbbed in pain. Just thinking about his stupidly handsome face made you want to throw up once more. “I don’t really want to tell him, but he has a right to know that he’s going to be a father.”

“Will he even take responsibility for it?”

You swallowed nervously, nibbling on your thumbnails before snatching your hand away. Composure was something you didn’t struggle with; you were the more reliable one in the duo of you and Satoru, but you had a bad habit of picking on your nails whenever you were anxious. Had it not been for Satoru flicking your nails away from your mouth each time you dazed out a little bit, you would’ve never gotten rid of the habit, but it all came crashing back down on you in an instant.

A heavy knot formed in your belly.

“Most likely not, I know how he’s like. He loves his single life so much that he’d never allow to be tied down like this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he tells me he doesn’t want it.”

“What an asshole!”

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t need him in my life,” you reinstated, finally feeling more confident the longer you talked to Rei. She was your instant hype machine in more ways than one; her presence itself gave you the reassurance you could handle everything your way. With hope blooming in your chest, you picked yourself of the toilet and wiped away your tears. You could do this – you can handle this. Not just for you, but this baby growing in you as well.

“In our life. I’m more than capable of taking care of the baby myself,” you told her, gaze hard and determined as your sunken reflection stared back at you in the mirror. Sighing, you shook your head and pictured Satoru’s face, already picturing a thousand ways this could go wrong. Only one way to find out.

“I have to go now. He needs to hear about this and then I’ll resign. Probably move back home – anywhere that’s away from him.”

“Doesn’t the baby deserve to meet their dad?”

“Their dad doesn’t even want to be one,” you muttered bitterly and threw your sweater back on, refusing to kick yourself around any harder. Now wasn’t the time to be illogical; you were now a mother and had to be responsible now more than ever. But first, you needed some well-deserved rest after endless agonizing of missing your period, along with the baby drop that until now, had shook you to your core. “I’ll call you back, Rei. I’m very tired.”

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Humming in response, you ended the call and crawled back to bed.

It wasn’t that you felt lonely, but you didn’t feel particularly belonging anywhere. You were far from home in a city that felt like the future, and each day you come home, it was mostly just a place to rest before you went back to work the next day. It was a dull, empty routine that you’d gotten used to, but never had it sunk deep into you that you did felt completely hollow.

But not anymore.

You were with your baby now, and as much as it scared you shitless to be a mother with zero preparation and knowledge, you were confident things were going to be okay.

Wrapping an arm around your belly, you had the best sleep you’d had in years.

You’d just have to worry about tomorrow. Hopefully, and you quite prayed harder than you ever did before, Satoru would let you go and keep things less complicated than it already was.

“No,” Satoru shook his head, his words dropping like a heavy boulder in the middle of nowhere. You stood in front of him shock still, hands wrung solid beneath your belly. Satoru merely shook his head, brushing back his gelled hair with a dry laugh. “No, what are you even thinking? You’re not resigning.”

You pursed your lips. “I wasn’t really asking for permission, Sir.”

Truth be told, you expected this sort of reaction from him. It may be true that you and Satoru never got along in personal levels since he was too crass and you much stiff, but it couldn’t be denied you worked well together. You balanced each other’s flaws and brought out the best in one another. If someone had asked you years ago prior to you being employed by the heir if you could even tame the renowned free spirited man, you would’ve said probably not, but after sharing struggles and quite literally forcing one another to do better, you both reached highs neither expected to achieve.

It was an experience and a whole lot lessons learned working with him.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and you had to leave even if Satoru negated to it.

“We’ve been working together for years. Do you know how many people I fired and have resigned all because they’re not equipped for the job?” he plopped down atop his desk, loosening his tie out of frustration. The simple gesture made you swallow and look away – it felt impossible to look at him any other way than a boss now that you had his baby inside you. Thankfully, Satoru was mouthy as usual that he pulled you back from your train of thoughts as he gestured between the both of you. “You and I are perfectly compatible – I can’t let you go like that. I’m sorry, but I need you. There’s no one else I can work with this functionally. No one else is as willing to tolerate my bullshit except you and...I need you to stay.”

You clenched your teeth at the desperation in his voice.

Satoru admitting he needed people was one thing. But him asking others to stay? It may have just been for your value as the only person who had put up with him in both his best and worst times that made him feel that way, but you had to keep your foot down on the ground.

You wouldn’t let him sway you like this.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and willed all your energy to spring forth. “Sir...I’m more than thankful for all the opportunities, it truly was a pleasure working with you but—”

“Is this because we slept together?” he cut you off, your shoulders tensing. Upon your silence, Satoru heaved himself away from the desk and took cautious step towards you, stopping a foot away when you stepped back defensively.

You almost wished you didn’t know him so well. His eyes shone with a flicker of hurt before he masked it just as quick as it had came – for Gojo Satoru was a master of many things, and a great actor was one of them. Cautious, you had to be cautious, and you clenched your fists behind your pencil skirt as you tore your gaze away from his pleading ones. “It is, isn’t it?” he affirmed with a clear of his throat, looking just as lost as you did. Satoru stuttered for a minute before he eventually composed himself, but even then, he didn’t sound half as sure as he wanted to be.

“Listen, whatever happened that night, we can forget about it if you want. We’re both adults and professionals – we can put this aside us and just go back to normal. You don’t have feelings for me, right? So then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Satoru...it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, aggravated. Satoru began to round his desk and pulling out little white envelopes, stacking them before you in a haste. “Do you want a pay raise? A new car so you could get to work easily? O-or perhaps a bigger house where you can work more comfortably, somewhere nearer to the office? All you have to do is tell me and I’ll give you what you want. There’s no need for you to resign, this company has given you everything and we’ve got so much offer just as you could still be great—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Satoru’s slender fingers halted around the pen hovering over a cheque slip. “What?”

“I said I’m pregnant,” you exhaled, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from quivering. A quick sweep from your face to gather sincerity trailed down to your belly, staring at you hard enough as if he had the ability to look through your soul. “And you’re the father.”

“Is that true? Is...is it really mine?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, “I’m not telling you this because I expect that you’ll be responsible for it. No offense, sir, but I’d really rather raise the baby alone. Plus, I understand that you’ll never settle down or suddenly abandon your old ways just to—”

“Stop right there,” he raised a palm, “You mean to tell me you’re resigning because you thought I wouldn’t take responsibility for it? For you?”

The hurt in his voice and expressions were evident, lip curled in disgust; not for you, but rather of himself. Satoru was the type of man that couldn’t be withered down even with the harshest of rumours; you’d never seen him be affected before by tabloids and nasty ex-girlfriends who only slept with him for money or fame, only to talk smack about him afterwards. But now, he was crumbling before you, and you didn’t know quite what to say or feel over the vulnerability present in his cerulean eyes. It almost pained you know that you caused this – for the comforting, blue sky to be tainted with a thunderstorm that hinted of anger, of disappointment, of betrayal.

But could he blame you for not thinking the best of him?

“I’ve worked with you for years, sir, I know you.”

“Clearly not well enough,” he chuckled sarcastically, “Admittedly, I’m surprised, but not upset. The only thing that I’m upset about is that you actually believed it would be better to raise the baby – our baby – alone like I don’t even have a right to be in their life. Sure, it was an accident, but we made that. That’s our child and I’m going to take care of you and be a great father, even if you don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Sir, I didn’t mean—”

“That’s the first time you said something stupid. That’s our baby. We’re a family now,” Satoru’s hesitance had vanished into thin air as he was on you the next instant, hands shaky before they landed on your shoulders. It was meant to be a comforting gesture; a reassuring one, yet you couldn’t help but flinch and falter under his gaze. As if getting the message, he quickly retracted his hands and shoved them deep inside his pockets with a sigh. “You don’t need to resign or worry about anything else. I promise I’ll give you both the life you deserve, just...just please don’t go. Now that I know we have a baby, there’s just no way I can let go of this and pretend I never heard of this at all.”

You swallowed, rubbing your sweaty palms on your skirt.

Out of all the different scenarios you stayed up late at night to turning your head in one by one, none of them included this. Undeniably, he was an asshole to most, but maybe he was right.

He hadn’t done anything wrong to you and he was still the father of your baby; he deserved a chance. Satoru had the right to be the father he was willing to be. You could already tell this might completely turn into one big mess, but his eyes were so hopeful, his smile so nervous yet expectant that you couldn’t help but say –

“Okay,” you relented.

His reaction was instantaneous. Satoru beamed and lounged at you, arms wide open for an embrace before realizing at the last second you could stab him with a pen and not regret it. One warning glare sent his way and he was retracing his arm behind his head, pretending to stretch with an off-tune whistle.

The sudden switch between pained and enthusiastic gave you whiplash, but you really shouldn’t be surprised. This was Gojo Satoru in the first place – he was as unpredictable as nothing was permanent and lasting to him.

It could be both a blessing and a curse.

For the sake of your baby, you genuinely hoped it was the former.

Not wanting him to get too ahead of himself since you still didn’t trust him enough, you raised a finger to poke him in the chest. Right now, you were no longer his secretary that openly despised him but added six sugar cubes in his coffee just as he liked anyway, but rather a woman who shared this mess with him, and as the mother of his child. You had to be strong. Being with Satoru felt like playing with fire, and you had far too much at stake – both of you did – but you weren’t privileged and fortunate like Satoru. One bad thing thrown his way could be brushed off, but for you? Everything you worked hard for could disappear just like that.

If you really chose now to play with fire, you had to be careful not to be the gasoline that ignited things to burn down into ashes.

“Satoru,” you stressed with your lips pressed into a thin line, “The only thing I expect from you is to be is a good father to our child. I know that it would be difficult for you to be a new person in a day and that your old habits won’t die right away, so please do what you can to be a good parent, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your life as well.”

His smile slowly vanished.

“Is that how low you really think of me?” he echoed rather sadly, “That I would still sleep around knowing I’ve got a family now?”

“We’re not a family, Sir. I have no intentions of marrying you nor would I ever want it. I’m just staying for the baby.”

“Fine. For the baby, let’s both do our best,” he crossed his arms on his chest, pumping out the hard muscles from how tight his shirt was. You were stuck between wanting to slap him or be closer to him; the hormones too much of a mess that you had to grip your thigh for restraint. “But tomorrow, you’re moving in with me. I’m going to take care of you from now on – I’ll get you whatever you need so whatever it is, just tell me. My credit card is yours to use as well.”

Move in with him? You wanted to laugh. That was the last thing you would want to happen.

“Sir, it’s fine, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but I want to take care of you both,” he reiterated, growing slightly annoyed from your rigidness. You professed that you were being difficult right now, but it was much better than being easy around someone like him.

“We don’t have to be friends or lovers, alright? I know you don’t see me that way and I’m probably repulsive in your eyes – which is understandable since you always clean my mess up for me – but as a father, at least, let me do my job. There doesn’t have to be anything between us other than a mutual want to be good parents. Is that alright with you?”

You mulled the thought over in your head. So he was capable of being sensible sometimes, and after a few moments of silence, you narrowed your eyes at him.

Still suspicious and your guard was most definitely still up, but he was right. You both had a mutual want to be good parents and that was the most important thing right now. Everything else that complicated matters would be handled afterwards.

“I’m okay with that, but I would have to set down lots of boundaries if I’m living with you.”

“So you’ll really stay with me then?” You regretted nodding in response because Satoru was now fishing his phone out, a goofy smile on his face.

He took the news...surprisingly well, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Perfect! I’ll have your room prepared!” You tried to grab his arm to stop him from going overboard; knowing full well Satoru always had rushes in which he impulsively overdoes things. He might turn your room into some sort of grand suite that you wouldn’t really like, but he was far too excited and lost in his own thoughts that your words went from one ear and out the other. “Fuck,” he laughed to himself, “I’m going to be a dad.”

Whether it was relief or anxiety that bubbled through you, you had no idea.

It was definitely anxiety.

Satoru felt like a hyper child to be around, and as much as you were grateful that he was happy about this, you also wished he would calm down. You didn’t even have enough chance to settle in before he’s shoving you inside room by room, announcing that what was his was also yours and he would have a baby room set up next week.

You followed him around like a puppy as he marched into the kitchen, mumbling incoherently to himself about baby proofing furniture.

“Sir,” you called out, “Sir, listen to me. We need to talk about boundaries.”

Satoru blinked owlishly at your tired eyes, sheepishly smiling at you. It must’ve dawned on him that his speed tour of his penthouse felt a lot more overwhelming than welcoming, and he sat you down on the island stools before drumming his fingers impatiently on the cool marble. “Sorry, you were saying? I kind of got carried away.”

Carried away was far an understatement.

“I said, we need to talk about boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” he paused with a furrow in his brow. “Also can you just call me Satoru? We’re going to be parents anyway and it’s awkward if you keep uh, calling me Sir.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, not really in the mood to argue with him right now. You had to keep intact with him while you still had his full attention. Taking out a little notepad you prepared the night before, you slid it over Satoru who tilted his head to the side rather cutely to read it. “So here are my boundaries. One, I don’t want this pregnancy to be announced in the media unless I’m ready. I understand that we can’t keep this a secret forever but I need time to process this. Two, just because we’re living in the same roof together doesn’t mean that I get to go anywhere and everywhere with you. I’m going to work by myself—”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I said no,” he repeated more firmly this time. “You’re pregnant and I want to make sure you’re safe at all times. I’m driving you to work.”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said? I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“You’re my secretary. People see us together all the time.”

“But you never drove me to work! I live far from the office and I most definitely don’t drive an Audi.”

“Things change, that’s your life now,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, stealing the pen you twirled in your hands. The sudden contact sent jolts of electricity from your knuckles, one that had you recanting your hands back to yourself. Satoru didn’t seem to notice as he crosses out the second rule, “Sorry not sorry but I don’t want to let you go places like that. Fine by me if you don’t want me to drive you, but at least have one of the chauffeurs take you somewhere if you really don’t wanna be seen with me.”

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth. Compromise, compromise, meet in the middle – you repeated to yourself to keep your sanity. “Rule number three: I don’t want you changing your attitude around me. We may have a baby on the way, but you’re still my boss and I want to keep our relationship professional.”

“You’re saying I’m not allowed to fall in love with you?”

You flicked his forehead, effectively erasing the teasing grin he wore. “That’s not going to happen,” you interjected irritably, although your heart skip a beat. That was a massive red flag already; you could never be too comfortable with him. For Satoru, his little comments here and there may come naturally and probably meant nothing to him, but there was a chance you could receive it with different interpretations. Shaking your head at him, you ignored his grumblings on how ‘mean’ you were. “We’re never going to be a couple. We’re just raising a child together. I don’t want you acting weird or too comfortable with me.”

Satoru scratched the side of his head as he mulled about it, “Are we allowed to be friends, at least? I understand the professional part, but I can’t imagine the both of us getting along for nine months and more when we act like boss and employee even alone at home,” before you could say anything, Satoru raised his hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t do anything weird to you. No offense, but you’re not really my type, so same as you, I view you platonically.”

Right. The heart surely was stupid and confusing.

You didn’t want him getting any ideas that this could lead to something more, but at the same time, it hurt a little to know you weren’t his type.

Hiding that pang of hurt behind a tight lipped smile, you forced yourself to agree with him. “I view you professionally, Sir.”

“Satoru.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. “Rule number four: don’t bring home any of your fuck buddies or flavour of the night. I really don’t care if you sleep around, but respect my privacy and my standing as the mother of your childIf you’re really desperate to get your dick wet, go fuck them somewhere else.”

“You’ve never been this vulgar with me.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Despite countless of times that he tried being friendly with you to ease your stiffness in the office, you always shot him down.

You came to the city to work and provide for your family, not to be friends with your annoyingly hot boss who enjoyed his life way too much. Unlike him, you were more work than play, and eventually Satoru respected the fact you would never speak or treat him casually.

Until now.

“Try being in my shoes and see if you’d still have the patience of a saint,” you mumbled under your breath, sighing when Satoru’s smile got more awkward. “Listen, Satoru, I don’t mean to be difficult, okay? It’s just...this is a lot. This isn’t just us about anymore – we’re going to be parents and that’s a huge responsibility. It’s not only our lives changing here, a child will be relying on us in the future and I simply want to be a good mother, but I also don’t trust you very well to be comfortable enough to act like we’re suddenly friends.”

“I understand that.”

“Good.”

“Do you have rule number five?”

“No, not really, but I can add more as we go.”

“I have a rule number five,” he piped in, flipping the notepad his way as he scribbled something down. “And it’s that if you need help – and I mean with anything – you would let me help you. I’ve worked with you for a long time and I’m not dumb enough to not notice you like to do things by yourself. Like you said, things are different now, and especially with this pregnancy, you’re not alone in this. You need to let me take over the wheel sometimes. I can’t be just a passenger in the car – you and I are both in this together.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“That’s easy,” he chirped, and there was that uncomfortable knot in your chest again. However, it didn’t sink in too deep because Satoru was blatantly staring at your belly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So do we have a name for them already?”

“Satoru, I’ve only been a few weeks pregnant, I don’t—”

Conflicting his previous statement that he’d keep his hands to himself, Satoru suddenly dropped to his knees. You watched with wide eyes, too flabbergasted to move as he places his ear on your belly.

“Hi there, little one,” he spoke in a soft tone, large hands caressing the tiny bump beginning to form. You couldn’t move; hell, you could barely breathe from how comforting his touch seemed in contrast to your mind ringing warning bells above. His voice quickly pulled you back to reality as he flattened his palm, white lashes fluttering against the cotton of your shirt. “I’m your daddy; I can’t wait to meet you. Daddy promises to take good care of you and make you the happiest kid ever, alright? You don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m here.”

“D-don’t spoil them too much, Satoru.”

“I’ll try not to,” he chuckled. Satisfied with that small moment he had, he straightened up and trudged over the dining table that was far too big for a man who lived alone. In that moment, an image flashed in your mind – that someday that table would no longer look empty as you and your child shared meals with him. You could already imagine how heavenly the sun would shine on the glass windows behind it, the flowers gathered in the middle of the table blooming to life.

Out of nowhere, it struck you.

Could it be that this was why he loved this baby so much after only knowing about it for a few days? Could it be that Satoru really was alone?

“Okay, we should probably have a welcoming dinner! The chefs left me something tonight. I forgot what it’s called but I think you’ll like it. Grab some wine on the cellar for me?”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, right! My bad,” he clapped his hands together before pulling out ceramics and a cold pitcher, “Just water for mommy then,” Satoru said absentmindedly, completely oblivious to how your mind short-circuited a few feet away from him. He went about his way ignorant to it all and gently tugged you to sit with him, eagerly digging into the heated meals as you realized both of you hadn’t eaten.

For a guy who talked a lot, dinner with him was surprisingly quiet. Other than the occasional clinking of utensils against the plate, you enjoyed the silence with him.

You wouldn’t have believed it to be possible since Satoru made it his daily business to always fill in the gaps. Peace and comfort stretched before you the whole time, however, that for a moment, just a short moment, you found yourself letting your guard down. Even when you both caught each other’s in the middle of a bite, you found no tension or awkwardness in it. Perhaps it was the familiarity of being beside each other for years now that this should feel natural, or maybe it was because you both mutually agreed on wanting the best for your baby. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to overcomplicate it right now.

“You know, I’m really excited about this. I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a father,” he mused through a bite, swirling his red wine through his glass. Satoru gazed at his reflection almost dreamily, seemingly too deep in thought that he felt far from reach.

Or maybe you were the one who was detached, the one who kept pushing him away, because you could offer him nothing but a lame nod. “I’m glad to hear that...”

“What about you? You don’t look too happy.”

Your eyes widened at his worry. “No, I-I’m happy, of course. It’s just...it’s unplanned, and I’ve had my whole life planned out that I’m not really sure how this will all fall into place together.”

“Hey,” he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing warmth back into your skin that you hadn’t noticed turned cold from the nerves. Unlike his usual self with eyes brimming with glee, you could only see tenderness in him now, some sort of silent vow through a private smile shared only between the two of you in that moment in the solace of his home. Your home. “I promise I’ll be there for you and the baby every step of the way. I know that I haven’t had the best reputation and I have zero idea on parenting, but you’re not alone in this. You can trust me on this one, just like how we always trusted each other during work. Being a parent and running a business are both responsibilities right?”

“Yeah...”

“Well then you already know we work well together. We’re great partners!” he cheered, patting your shoulder way too bro-like. You resisted the urge to cringe. “We’ll be great parents, Y/N. I’m sure of that.”

Unsure of what else to do, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, you would be great parents as long as both of you never gave up. The thought of eating meals with him again with another addition to the table made you smile, and you hadn’t noticed you were spacing out, thumb running over his knuckles that were smooth for a man who never knew a day of hard labour. It wasn’t until you felt something prodding at you metaphorically, and you chuckled nervously as you saw Satoru smiling mysteriously at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “I’ve just never seen you this close before; not so much that I paid attention anyway. But this is nice – having you here, I mean. It gets lonely here sometimes.”

“Don’t you bring your girlfriends around?”

“I never make them stay,” was all he said, and just like that, whatever thread that was beginning to form snapped. Satoru released his hold on you and gestured to your plate, carrying the dishes in his hand before leaving you alone on the table. Like always – a whiplash. “I’ll clean up, you can rest in your room now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Do you even know how to do them?”

“Yeah, my mother forced me to wash dishes because she didn’t want me to rely on the house help too much,” he informed, the new information shocking you right to the core as he put on dishwashing gloves and started scrubbing. From this angle, he sure looked damn nice and domestic in just a white shirt, hair ruffled down to bangs.  “I’ll be right there with you,” Satoru announces casually, spinning on his heel with red cheeks once he realized what he said. “For just a goodnight, I mean! We’re not sharing rooms!”

“Yeah, no,” you coughed out, “We’re definitely not.”

It felt…surreal, to wake up in a room much grandiose than yours yet felt like home even for the first night. Satoru handled your moving in rather happily; you found him singing to himself this morning as he brewed his own coffee before realizing you were right behind him, sleepy as you lazily made waffles for the both of you. Everything flowed nicely and normally, like this had always been a normal thing that for a moment, you questioned once more what would happen next.

You were now getting ready for work, hands tugging at his tie because he was such a man-child who couldn’t even properly knot his own tie. His suit was custom tailored and he looked effortlessly gorgeous – beauty ripped straight from magazines he was constantly a front page of, but his tie was skewered and loose that it irritated you.

“You’re such a mess without me.”

Satoru bent down to wiggle his brows at you, thought you didn’t notice because he wouldn’t stay still for you to fix his tie fast enough. “Isn’t this sweet; you fixing my tie for me as we both get ready for work?” he teased, “We’re like a married couple already.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”

“Then how can I give you more babies?” picking up the newspaper on the coffee table beside you, you rolled it and started whacking him, a string of profanities colorfully painting his otherwise monochrome and sleek walls. Satoru’s laughter boomed all over the room even as he wiggled away from you, clutching his bicep that had been the victim of your abuse. “Ow, ow, I was joking! Jeez, woman, you are strong. Fight men a lot like this?”

“I work with you. My fighting instincts are always activated.”

His laugh really was annoying. But it did help ease your nerves – though you’d never tell him that – as you sat beside him in his car, the expensive leather seats no longer strange to you. It would’ve felt like any other day where you accompanied him somewhere, except the reason was different now, and it came crashing down on you of your current situation that things were undeniably different from now on.

You immediately stepped away from him the moment you got out of the car, clutching your clipboard to your tummy when Satoru bumped his shoulder with yours. “Come closer, it’s fine. No one will suspect a thing,” he points to the crowded building with people bumping and walking past each other, everyone too occupied in their own heads to even notice you.

It wasn’t much, but hearing his voice and reassurances relaxed you, even for just a little bit. Maybe your first day at work after the baby news wouldn’t be so bad, after all, but it seemed you had spoken too early.

Satoru heavily insisted that you worked inside his office from now on.

Your desk was located right outside his office, the phone line always within reach in case you needed to pass calls to him or if he needed you to come. Satoru preferred the privacy of his own space – or so he said; he actually just didn’t want you to witness him slacking around and experience your wrath – but now he was dragging you inside his office, pushing your shoulders down until you were ‘settled in.’

You didn’t even want to ask where he got a new desk from, or why it had to be right across from him. His desk remained elevated on a few levels, the welcoming lobby of the room filled with couches and stacks of coffee with a rich amount of sugar cubes.

Safe to say, most of the morning was spent (or rather, wasted) on you telling Satoru off. The man was too persistent, coming in on the office at random times of the hour with either snacks or heaps of biscuits on his arms. He always greeted you with a wide grin on his face, only to be kicked out of his own office because you had his hellish schedule and events to deal with. That was around three hours ago when you’d asked him to shut up and go bother someone else. You were halfway around finishing your workload for today when the door swung open, a tuft of white hair and mischievous eyes peeking through.

“Hey! Just checking in on mommy—”

“Satoru!”

“What? It’s just you and I,” he defended with a shrug, welcoming himself inside. Surprisingly, he was empty handed, though the pout on his lips told you it was against his will. “Seriously though, do you need anything? Do you want snacks? Tea? Do you need help going to the bathroom? You haven’t moved in your desk for an hour now.”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant, not disabled,” you ignored him for a while, resuming to working back on his schedule for the month. There were a bunch of e-mails you still had to respond to, which normally wouldn’t be such a daunting task if Satoru wasn’t shifting his weight from one foot to another, the sounds of his shoes hitting the tiles in an annoying click-clack rhythm getting to you. “Will you stop fidgeting! Your anxiety gives me anxiety, stop that!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I just feel like there’s something I should be doing.”

“Shutting up and letting me work in peace would be great, thank you.”

“You really don’t need anything?” Sending him a warning glare, Satoru sucked in his cheeks and ran back to his desk where he hid behind the safety of his large monitor. “Nope, yeah, I got the message: leave you alone. Good luck with that then, I’ll need those archives to pull up for our meeting with the directors later at five.”

Muttering a sarcastic finally under your breath, you resumed working.

The routine was per usual – answer the calls professionally with a welcoming and sweet voice, a pen always in one hand to jot down notes in reminders, adjust his schedules, work out his plans, go to him whenever he needed to sign something before responding back to e-mails. You were focused as you always were, but someone wasn’t, and it was getting harder and harder to keep being placated.

It didn’t help that he made no effort to hide the fact he was slacking off, the tip-taps of him randomly pressing keys on the keyboard similar to a fork dragging down a plate.

“I can feel you burning holes at the back of my head,” you twittered, “What do you need?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just realizing how beautiful you are right now.”

You paused. Unable to deny your curiosity over how serious he sounded, you spun around in your swivel chair. Satoru had his chin on his hands as he stared right back at you, his face devoid of expression that you couldn’t pick up on a single clue. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course the bastard would be teasing you, his loud chuckles a painful reminder of that. It was best to ignore him, so you went back to reading e-mails and forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. “We’re at work. Please stop distracting me; I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like a creep.”

“Sorry, babe, I’ll try to be less distracting next time, though I can’t control my charisma, you know!”

You jotted your thumb to your desk outside, “I can walk back to my desk where you can’t see me. That’d be a great for both of us.”

“Stay right there, I was joking!”

“Do you promise to be quiet and actually do your job if I stay?”

“With you disciplining and ordering me around like that, why not?” Mouth open for another heated retort, Satoru stopped you before you could say anything, his aura more serious this time. He was always like this; fooling around and maturing the next second, only for the cycle to repeat and test your patience. “I’m just teasing you, Y/N, I’ll shut up now. You’re free to end work as soon as you’re tired though; the driver is waiting in the parking lot whenever you want to go home.”

“I’ll go home with you.” Home. It felt weird to say that, but also…natural.

“You’ll stay with me at work today?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you responded with a one-shoulder shrug. That seemed to be enough for him, however, and it wasn’t long before Satoru found the oh so rare and fleeting motivation to work hard.

Once he was settled, sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms and brows furrowed as he centered all his attention on the pile of paperwork before him, there was no stopping him.

Roles reversed and positions switched, you were now the one unable to take your eyes off him.

In this light, in this moment, Gojo Satoru had never looked more beautiful. He was much the same as you in the manner you never really noticed each other this way before; not romantically, but even just person to person. In your eyes, he was nothing but your irritating boss whose boisterous self always crowded over your peace, and in his eyes, you were nothing but his secretary who he knew always silently hoped would leave you alone.

But things were different now. You were different now.

Boundaries there may be, you couldn’t help that fluttering forming in your stomach. Contentment, happiness, relief, nervousness – all of them jumbled into one big mess. Out of them all, however, there was most definitely adoration, either out of respect for his unexpected kindness, or simply because it felt nice to feel for once.

Turning away from him until your back was the only thing he could see, you hid your smile as you secretly held your belly.

You’d never been reckless before, but what was to be a good story when there wasn’t a mistake or two made?

[kyberphilosopher]

Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man. 

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off. 

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men. 

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

 * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot. 

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried. 

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one. 

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point. 

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day. 

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man. 

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn. 

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering. 

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard. 

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above. 

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you. 

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible. 

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman. 

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath. 

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do. 

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks. 

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?” 

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something. 

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that. 

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’. 

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch. 

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans. 

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even. 

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut. 

What’s wrong with you today? 

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again. 

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person. 

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark. 

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair. 

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins. 

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close. 

“When?” you question. 

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement. 

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine. 

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself. 

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half. 

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones. 

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response. 

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings. 

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused. 

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike. 

A man, as usual. 

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory. 

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will. 

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time. 

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand. 

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually. 

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment. 

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change. 

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all. 

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot. 

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank. 

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again. 

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all. 

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately. 

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth. 

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something. 

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last. 

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed. 

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away. 

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him. 

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around. 

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly. 

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly. 

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes. 

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time. 

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him. 

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl. 

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally. 

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it. 

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding. 

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject. 

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food. 

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat. 

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question. 

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond. 

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought. 

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible. 

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump. 

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one. 

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense. 

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend. 

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe. 

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt. 

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded. 

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help. 

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder. 

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes. 

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips. 

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly. 

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it. 

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building. 

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

That night, it rains. 

Thunder echoes, with  ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands. 

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes. 

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning. 

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it. 

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual. 

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think.  Please protect me. Please do this for me. 

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android. 

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are. 

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you. 

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now. 

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good. 

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor. 

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself. 

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes. 

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea. 

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators. 

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him. 

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy. 

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does. 

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying. 

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead. 

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second. 

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

[piastrinorris]

Heart of a Lion

alternate AO3 link

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Reader (no pronouns/gendered terms)

Genre: fluff

Summary: Making friends with someone to get closer to the not-so-secret admirer who's been leaving notes in your locker yields far more interesting results.

Word count: 3513

Good morning!

The clouds may have cast a dark and gloomy curtain over Hawkins today, but the presence of your sunny disposition still radiates the entire school. I look forward to basking in your light in class today.

Yours, always,

The Cowardly Lion

You read the note that had been folded up into your locker door and grin, holding it close to your chest and breathing deeply. While the daily love letters cause split opinions among your friend groups, with some finding them creepy and some finding them romantic, you yourself agree with the latter. 

It had started with a Valentine’s Day card, way back at the start of the year. It had been left on your desk at homeroom. A pink card adorned with a cute hand-drawn cartoon lion holding a heart. Inside the heart was written “I’d be lion if I said you weren’t cute!” A lot of your classmates had turned their noses up at it when you revealed it, but you proudly slipped it beneath the clear cover of your binder and kept it there for the rest of the school year. Now it lives in its own box in your bedroom, along with all the notes you’ve received ever since… And some notes and doodles of your own. See, what your “secret” admirer doesn’t know, is that you know who it is.

You just wonder why someone with as much bravado as Steve Harrington needs to sneak around putting secret notes in your locker, rather than talking to you directly. It’s not like you’re unpopular. Maybe it’s because you don’t actually really fit into any of the “cliques” that Hawkins High thrives on? You’re not a band nerd, a newspaper nerd or a D&D nerd. You’re not a cheerleader, a swim team jock or close to any of the basketball or football jocks. You’re not one of the art, film or photography buffs. You’re not enough of a geek for any of the academic extracurriculars. And none of this is to say that you’re not friends with your classmates, you can always find someone to hang out with. It’s just never a consistent group. Maybe that’s why Steve won’t attach himself and his precious reputation to you.

You head into homeroom and it’s all abuzz. Your teacher does a little Secret Santa exchange between your class every year, where everyone gets a $5 spending limit to buy a gift for someone you pull randomly out of a box. Your friends usher you to go to the desk with the container on it, and you giggle. There's a high enough percentage that you'll select one of your friends, or a friend of theirs, that you'll be able to nail their gift, you think to yourself as you're mixing your hand around in the box.

Instead, the name you pull out is Jonathan Byers. Shit. The one kid who doesn't talk to anyone. Though a lot of your friends each run in their own social circles, one thing they all agree on is convincing you that it's not worth trying to talk to him. And even the one time you'd tried, last year when you were trying to find your place as The New Freshman in a town where everyone already knew everyone, he made it clear that he keeps himself to himself.

If you suddenly just start sitting close to him and trying to fire off questions, he’ll know you’re only doing it for gift research, and you don’t want to make him feel like you’re not interested in getting to know him. And besides, who knows what they “want” that would cost less than $5? 

By the time he skulks into the classroom, you’ve thought of the perfect strategy. He sits, out of the way, as always, and you approach his desk. You perch yourself on the edge of it and smile, “Hi, Jonathan!” He looks up at you, nods, then goes to root round in his bag. You continue, “Um, I think the secret Santa thing is ready to go this year.”

“And you have me? It’s fine, you don’t have to get me anything,” he offers you a small, pitiful smile.

“No!” you lie. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t miss out.”

“Thanks. I’ll just get the last one, like always,” he nods.

“I actually wanted to ask you about, um - you’re in Mrs Calman’s class for English too, right?” You ask, and he nods again. “I, uh, I can’t seem to get my head around the reading. Shakespeare’s writing, it just goes straight past me, y’know?” you chuckle. “Um, but you seem to do pretty well, so I was - I was wondering, would you mind helping me out? I promise, I’m not gonna try and mooch off your work, if you could just read through the book with me and help me make it make sense, I’d super appreciate it,” you grin.

He pushes his lips into a sideways smirk. “If that’s all you want, I can probably write up some notes for you, without taking up too much of your time.”

“It wouldn’t be taking up my time if we studied together,” you offer with a warm smile. “If that’s something that you want. Besides, getting you to write out the whole book would be insane,” you laugh, and his eyes grow wide.

“Yes! You’re right, you’re very right, that would be… Yes, I’ll talk you through it and you can write it down,” he nods.

“That’s how I learn best, anyways,” you nod with a smile. “What’s better for you, lunchtimes or after school?”

He shrugs, “I don’t exactly have a bursting social schedule,” he laughs quietly. “We could go to the library after school? Try and get as much of it out of the way quickly, and then you won’t be as confused for as long.” He looks up at you with a small smile. 

“Alright! I’ll meet you at the library then?” He nods in agreement, and you knock on his desk a couple of times before getting back up and joining your friends.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” One hisses, but you shush them.

“It’s fine, he’s helping me with my work. Just… Just lay off him, alright?” You won’t tell them, but there’s one further motive behind getting close to Jonathan. You know he and Steve have somewhat of a camaraderie, so maybe you can finally figure out what the best way is to approach him about his constant note-leaving.

~~~

As you’re sitting on the wall outside the library, you wonder whether Jonathan’s gotten cold feet over the whole thing. You know he’s been bullied before by being led to places that ultimately cause him harm, and you seriously hope that he doesn’t think that of you.

Thankfully, he pulls up and threads his way through everyone else to get to you. He actually looks excited, for once. You’ve never really seen any real, positive emotion on his face, but it suits him well. “Hi! You’re here.” The relief in his voice confirms all your suspicions.

“Of course I am! I’m tired of just seeing words like “cock-a-hoop” and having teachers expect me to believe that this is one of the greatest writers of all time,” you roll your eyes, and Jonathan chuckles, gesturing in front of him to silently invite you to start walking ahead into the library.

“Well, that is one of his more comedic words, his tragic and romantic storytelling is still far beyond anything most people come out with these days,” Jonathan rambles, before clearing his throat to stop himself. “But I get it, it can be pretty jarring to read cohesively if you’re not super invested in it, which school doesn’t really set you up for.”

You side-eye him with a smile as you both sit at a table. “I think this is the most I’ve heard you talk.” He becomes flustered, looking at you with eyes of fearful apology. “I like it, though.” You nod, and he looks away, again clearing his throat.

You spend the evening delving into Romeo and Juliet together, comparing characters to people from school - for someone who doesn’t talk to anyone, Jonathan sure knows a lot about your classmates, and you are living for it - and coming up with ways to rephrase things that make more sense to you. Most do, at least.

"But isn't it "where art thou, Romeo?"" You ask, head in your hands.

"A lot of people think that, but it's actually wherefore, which means why?" Jonathan explains.

"But why is she asking that? Is she just like, "why are you the way that you are"? Isn't she already like, in love or whatever? Why does everything have to be like a damn code?" You groan.

Jonathan nervously puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's okay, this one is a tough one to get around, since again, most people misquote it." You show Jonathan that you appreciate how patient he's being with you by leaning into his touch a little. "It's more like… Why are you the only person I've ever felt love towards, but you're also the worst person to feel love towards, because bullshit societal standards created and upheld outside of our control dictate everything about our lives and there's no way of breaking out of those standards, they just get made one day and everyone's just fine with that being the norm -"

You squeeze his arm gently. "Hey, hey. Breathe. You're fine. I get it. I don't like cliques either, I just sort of float around.

Jonathan squeezes a laugh out between his teeth. "Tsch, yeah, because people like you. And you're good at… Just, putting yourself in front of people and becoming their friend, no matter who they are."

You scrunch your nose up. "Not everyone. There's a few assholes here and there." Trying desperately to act casual, you nudge him, "You're on pretty good terms with Mr Popularity himself though, Steve Harrington. I've seen you two, at least. Would never have expected your crowds to intertwine."

Jonathan scoffs, "That statement assumes I have a crowd. No, my brother is best friends with Steve's girlfriend's brother, so…" he shrugs.

Your heart sinks. Girlfriend? But- 

If you think about it too much around Jonathan, you might reveal something you don't want him to know. Instead you clear your throat and ask, "How is your brother? After all the… You know…"

"Yeah, well, he's… You know… Well, of course you don't, but… He's got his friends, which is nice. Especially since my mom isn't letting him out of her sight again."

"I can imagine she wouldn't!" You can tell this is a sensitive topic for Jonathan so you don't press further, but he continues, "Actually, I should get going soon. I promised Will I'd pick up a record for him."

You gasp, "Are you going to Larry's?" Jonathan nods, that glint of excitement in his eye again. "I need to go there sometime, he's the only guy I know that stocks the records I listen to."

"Wh- what kinda stuff do you like?" Jonathan asks, suddenly very shy for some reason.

"Well, this is gonna sound… Super pretentious, but there's some bands from England who, like, I don't know how to explain their sound? But I like it. And Larry gets shipments from time to time. I wanted to see if he had any more stuff from this one band I've been digging, The Cure. I think they're gonna make it big here someday," you nod knowingly.

"When they do, I'll be sure to tell people that you've said that on this day," he muses, and you laugh. The shy persona returns. "I could… Take you, if you want. You could put your bike in the trunk of my car. Will does that all the time, it should fit."

This is good, you think to yourself. I can get a taste of what to get him here.

Larry, as it turns out, can't wait to see you. He states that there's a new album out in the UK this month, and he should be able to get his hands on a copy by the new year. He has a single for you to listen to in the meantime, however. You take Lovecats out of its sleeve, place it delicately onto the player, and instead of putting the headphones on, you offer them to Jonathan. His brow furrows, "How do you know you'll even like it?"

You shrug, "They've not failed me yet."

Jonathan bops his head along to the music, clearly enjoying himself. It's quite cute to watch, actually. You never thought the Jonathan Byers at school could really be considered "cute", but with his hair falling into his smiling eyes, and his head moving from side to side, there's a certain archetype of adorable that the sight of him fits into.

He shows you his favourite band, Misfits, and buys an album of theirs as well as one from a band called Descendents. You assume that's for Will.

He drops you off outside your home at the end of the evening, but makes no attempt to get out, or engage with you in any way. Just a smile and a wave. You feel a slight pang of disappointment, but you understand that he still has a fear of people changing up on him.

It doesn't deter him, however, from walking past you in the hallway, meeting your pace as he aligns with you for just long enough to make plans to meet again at the library and then quickly walk away again. You really feel proud for breaking through to him. You spend many an evening talking Shakespeare, other prose your teacher throws at you, and swapping music tastes.

There's only one thing you notice - your little locker love notes no longer appear.

It's not disappointing as such, if it is Steve writing them, you're glad you're not part of some scandal featuring the most popular guy in school. But there are just so many loose ends there that remain. Why you? Why the secrecy? Why pursue Nancy at the same time? 

You finally find a window of opportunity when you happen to pass Steve as he’s loading up his locker for the day. You stand behind him and clear your throat. He turns to look at you and his brow furrows in confusion. “Can I help you?”

“Alright, Harrington, the jig is up. I want answers,” you fold your arms and narrow your eyes.

His face only contorts further. “I don’t think I have them? I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are.”

“Don’t play games with me. What, is the whole lion thing because of the - the hair?” You gesture around the top of your head, in the shape of his signature hairstyle.

“What lion thing?! You seriously have me mixed up with someone else,” he shakes his head and carries on with what he was doing.

“I’ve seen you posting your notes in my locker!” you hiss, and he halts, sinking his head down into his locker.

He stands still for a few seconds before taking a deep breath out of his mouth and slowly leaning back. “Okay. Okay. I’m with you now. I didn’t know if this day would ever come. How do I - shit, man, I’m a man of my word,” he mutters under his breath before clicking his fingers. “I got it!” He rustles around in his locker and pulls out a binder. “Okay, I was sworn to secrecy, so I’m not going to say anything, got it? Anything you might get from this conversation, I have not told you.” He holds up a science worksheet. “See this? See the name on top.” The name Steve Harrington is scrawled at the top, but in a handwriting you don’t recognise. “I’m about to turn this in. The only reason it’s all filled in is because a mutual friend of ours helps me. Here’s his.” He holds up an identical sheet, filled in with identical answers, but with no name on the top and a style of handwriting you definitely recognise.

“Can - can I take that?” you ask bashfully.

“Sure. In fact, here,” Steve takes out a whole load of study notes. “See for yourself.”

“I’m, um… I’m sorry.” you mumble your apology.

Steve looks at you softly. “You’re good. Now that I know who you are, at least,” he chuckles. “Be good to him, won’t you? Nancy likes to look out for him.”

“To who? You’ve not told me anything about anyone,” you smirk, and he taps his forehead in a salute that points to you. You stuff your new research into your book bag, catch up with Jonathan, tell him you’re busy tonight (which he understands without further questioning) and go about your day.

You cycle straight home after school, and fetch the box with your Valentine’s card and all your locker notes in. Spreading the notes out around all the worksheets, you can find instances of every letter that matches perfectly. The one friend you have in common with Steve. The one person who you’ve spoken to every day that you haven’t received a note for. You smile to yourself as you think of the perfect secret Santa gift, and rush out of the house to make sure you get to the bookstore in good time.

~~~

On the last day of the semester, Jonathan’s beaten you to the classroom, giving you the perfect opportunity to present him with his gift, especially since your friends are busy buying sprigs of mistletoe from a stall in the hallway to spring on their crushes. It’s a school tradition, albeit one you’ve never really been super into.

In homeroom, you place the gift bag down on Jonathan’s desk and grin, “Merry Christmas!”

He nods slowly. “I knew it. That’s why you wanted to hang out with me. So you could get me a gift.”

“No!” You start, but he raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, at first, maybe. But look at us now!” You grin, punching his shoulder playfully. “I’m gonna let you open that by yourself, alright?” You walk back to wait for your friends, and watch him take out the vintage copy of The Wizard of Oz. He looks embarrassed, confused, a little relieved? It’s hard to tell, he seems to convey multiple emotions at once.

Your friends approach as you’re watching him open his gift and they immediately start gossiping to you.

“Oh, now I get why you were hanging around him so much!”

“Good, I was starting to worry that you were sympathising over that freak.”

You can tell he can hear them, by the way his whole demeanour starts to shrink. You decide enough is enough. “Hey. Talk about him like that again, and I want nothing more to do with you.”

Your friends pull incredulous expressions at you. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Not yet, but with any luck…” Feeling a burst of confidence-fueled adrenaline, you stride back over to Jonathan, hold him by the front of his shirt, lift him out of his seat and press a kiss to his lips. His eyes widen in shock, then close as his face softens as he embraces it. 

When you eventually break apart, you let go of him and he falls back into his chair with a soft thud. He looks up at you with a giddy elation, positively giggling at you. “Um… I didn’t. Plan on you figuring this out, so soon at least.”

You laugh, “Yeah, well. I did kinda catch onto your decoy a while back.”

He groans, squeezing one eye shut, “I thought… You’d get freaked out if you knew I liked you. And I wasn’t sure how to get it out of my system, so…” He shrugs. “I asked Steve to put them in your locker. I don’t even think he knows who you are. Super dumb, I know.”

“Shows that the company you do manage to keep is pretty high quality. Very reflective of you,” you point out with a nod.

Jonathan laughs, a little awkwardly. “It’s certainly improved greatly in recent history.” You simper at him, and he looks up at you, biting his lip and narrowing his eyes. “I, um… So, you know I was saying that I didn’t plan on you finding out?” You nod. “I was going… To tell you, today. Um, after I… Bought some… To…” he turns bright pink.

You grin, filling in the blanks. “Did you buy your mistletoe already?” He shakes his head, eyes wide, and you lean in close to him. “Well, good job I already kissed you then, huh.” You kiss his forehead and slide off his desk. “Come sit with me at lunch?”

“Wh- Who are you gonna eat with?” he asks quietly.

“Doesn’t matter. I want you with me, screw the others. If they start shit, we’ll just leave. Deal?” He nods, presses his lips together and smiles. “See you then.”