#one day i’m not gonna wake up bc my stomach will have burst
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thecapricunt1616 · 8 months ago
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NURSE!!! NURSE!!! SHE BROKE OUT OF HER CAGE TO POST MORE- Dad!Carmy brainrot for you all 😉🫶
— so I Imagine him getting a call in the middle of the night, you’re heavily pregnant with your third. His Apple Watch thankfully woke him (you’d be worried for him to get a call so late). He gets up without waking you going into the living room and answering to hear your teen daughters watery voice at the end of the line and she’s all “Daddy promise you won’t be mad at me” (more below)
He’s immediately grabbing his keys, putting on his shoes and brown plaid coat that he’s had longer than she’d been alive, or then he’d even been knowing you for that matter - his heart thumping in his chest and throat tightening. “Sweetheart why aren’t you home right now?! are you safe? Tell me wha’s wrong- what happened- I won’t be upset honey” he assured her, his stomach clenching at the thought of her hurt.
“P-paisley wanted me to go t’this party with her and - and the police came daddy and she left me there alone- and I got arrested. Come get me I don’t wanna die in hereeee” she sobbed dramatically. He sighed gratefully, starting the car.
“You aren’t going to die princess. Give me 20 minutes mm? And we can talk ‘bout y’punishment w’mommy t’morrow” he said and she huffs
“You’re gonna snitch on me T’mommy?! Daddy you’re being so unfair! “ she whined
He chuckled a bit, “I’m bein’ very fair. I love you babygirl I’ll s’ya soon” he said and hung up. He knew if he’d have woken you, you would have freaked out and panicked at the thought of your little girl drunk and scared and alone. Considering how far along you were currently the stress could most definitely cause early labor and he did not want to deal with that tonight.
He’d make it to the police station fast bc ofc when he was picking a home for his family it would be super close to one for safety reasons and when he walked in and saw his baby sitting in a holding cell with other adults being held on misdemeanor charges, his heart would break.
She would be curled into herself on the bench, knees flush to her chest hugging herself, cheeks tear stained, big blue doe-like eyes puffy and red with thick tears that were still falling. He wanted to pick her up like she was 2 again - even though the top of her head hit his shoulder now, and cradle her like the baby he couldn’t help but see any time he looked at her.
“Oh princess” he said softly and she looks up, quickly standing up and she couldn’t help but burst in to sobs as relief washed over her when she finally saw her dad, who had never let her down from the day she was born - he was always there for her, as were you, but Carmy was always softer on the kids then you were because his dad never showed any of his siblings softness, so he wanted to be sure the kids always trusted him in that way
“Daddy you came! I’m so scared please please I’ll never do it again please get me out of here dad I’m so sorry I’m so so sorry daddy” she broke down and he felt tears pushing at the back of his eyes he could only swallow back because they were in public.
“You- hey-“ he snaps his fingers and the cop standing outside the holding cell door finally acknowledges him “I’m her fuckin father- let ‘er out. Now.” He said annoyed with the man’s lack of attention for his own job.
“She’s unable to be released until her fine is paid” he said and shrugged “it’s the law”
Carmen dug the stupid reciept paper he’d shoved in his pocket that he’d paid the front clerk when he got here, pushing it to his chest “open the fucking door, jagoff. Shes 16 the fuck is wrong with you she’s a baby” he said angrier, voice getting louder.
“Sir I’m gonna need you to calm down.” He said and Carmen rolled his eyes, 2 words he hated hearing even more than anything when put together.
“Look at the fucking paper. And let my daughter go” he snapped, holding his baby’s hand through the bars gently and rubbing a soothing thumb over her knuckles, she was shaking like a leaf.
“Mmm” the man grumbled, opening up the door and she rushed into Carmen’s arms. He kisses the top of her head tenderly, wrapping her in a tight bear hug.
“Y’never allowed t’scare me like that again angel girl” he mumbled into her hair, breathing in her scent that he could pick out even in his sleep as his baby girl.
“I’m sorry daddy I’m so so sorry” she mumbled over and over, tears soaking his shirt. He hushed her how he did when she was just a baby and rubbed her back soothingly.
“S’okay babygirl I think y’learned y’lesson mm? Y’think you wanna go out drinkin again before y’21?” He teased lightly and she sniffled, shaking her head lightly. He didn’t care that she was getting snot all over him, or that she was staining one of his near $80 white shirts with her mascara and eyeliner she’d gotten with a Ulta gift card ‘Santa’ had gotten her, since Carmen couldn’t bare the fact his baby girl was growing up.
“No- no daddy I promise. I promise I’ll never do it ever again. Please don’t tell mommy” she pleads and looks up at him with big watery eyes. He carefully thumbed away the large rings of black under her eyes and cups her face tenderly.
“Sweetheart I am not in control of what mommy does. You know this, and I can’t lie to mommy. Are you asking me t’lie t’mommy? M’already riskin’ my spot in bed by not waking her up t’tell her ‘bout this” He asked sternly, she knew that lies were a big boundary in your family - they just hurt people unless they were ‘happy lies’ aka surprises like gifts or sweet things, but withholding information from each other in fear of making someone upset was a big no no in your house.
She huffed annoyed, lip quivering and she nuzzled back into his chest “unfair. Mommy is gonna ground me forever” she whined.
“Mm - maybe she should ground you. What the hell is this outfit? She’s not gonna be happy ‘bout this, y’gonna get sick” he tells her. She was in nothing but a tank top dress, flimsy nylons, and a half cardigan. He wraps his jacket around her shoulders as they walk out to the car, of course he couldn’t care less about freezing his ass off because his baby needed to be warm even if it was a short walk to his SUV.
“It’s cute dad and m’not gonna get sick! All the girls were wearing dresses like this!” She snapped sassily as she buckled in.
“Mm cute - sure pumpkin. What were you even doin’ - what party was worth the rage of y’mother? Especially when you know she’s been in a mood lately” he asked. A mood was what he called it, you were really just overly hormonal and sore and giving birth within the next 14 days, so everything was ticking you off
“Hally Hawkins party dad. Only the coolest senior at school!! If I was the only one who wasn’t there how was I supposed to ever find a date to the winter ball next month?!” She huffed, crossing her arms
“Date?!” His eyes widen “since when did we say you could date?!” He asked quickly “you aren’t dating you- you can’t date until you’re married!” He said seriously to which she just giggled
“How am I supposed to get married if I don’t date daddy! I’m 16 now! I’m getting my license soon! I should be able to hold hands with a boy I like-“
“Hold hands?!” He exclaims “who the hell is holdin’ y’hand? No- no. No! I’m the only man that holds y’hand and it’s to help you across the street” he grips the steering wheel tighter “y’too little” he said and she whines
“Daddy I’m not little! I’m 16! You promised to stop calling me little” she pushes his hand away at a stoplight when he goes to fix the strap of her dress out of habit “daaaad!!!” She whines and he huffs
“Quit all the whinin’! Y’little as long as y’live w’me and that means that y’not dating and y’not holding hands” he pulls into your driveway, turning the lights off before as to not wake you. “And quiet comin inside- if you wake y’sister mommy is gonna be upset she’s been havin’ a hard time sleepin’ “ he opened her door, taking her purse and helping her out of the car.
“Is this mommy’s?” He holds up the purse and she takes it from him, holding it to her chest defensively.
“She never wears it anymore what- are you gonna snitch?! If you do I’ll tell her about you eating all her ice cream” she teased and headed to the door
He gasped, “you wouldn’t dare- you’d sell out y’own father?! After he just went and picked y’ass up outta the slammer. Maybe I shoulda let you stay there eh’? A night in jail may teach you some manners missy” he jokes as he unlocks the door, not seeing the kitchen light on.
“Where were you!” You were stood at the end of the hallway, fluffy robe and slippers on, hand over your bump as you stood there while nervously pacing. Carmy and your Daughter give eachother the we’ve been caught look before Carmy looks at you, as you narrow your eyes at your daughters arm adorning a very familiar looking black bag.
“Is that- red lipstick…and my purse?!”
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theofficialpeanutgallery · 3 years ago
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Cpaps and Apaps should be discontinued in favor of Bipaps, or whatever the one that doesn’t continuously pump air into your stomach is called. The one that only pumps air when you’re inhaling and at a rate your body can manage.
I look like a normal healthy human being but I feel like a whale that’s been beached for three weeks and needs to be put out of its misery. About as bloated, too.
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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago
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Ѕтдсч'ѕ Мом | Рдгт Тшо
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ɴᴀᴛᴀsʜᴀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏғғ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ:
s��ᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Nat has you all to the herself just the for weekend. And she’s gonna take every second for granted.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: milf!nat again bc i luv her, so major age gap (reader 21+), pool sex, stacy almost catching y’all, somnophilia/waking the r up with sex, tiny tiny bit of angst
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: I’m having writer’s block atm but i did have this in the back of my head. Might do a part three?
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The white sunshine woke Nat from her peaceful sleep slightly irritating her but when her eyes landed upon your tranquil form beside her, she forgot what put her in a bad mood in the first place. She brushed the hair from your face listening to the quiet snores with a small smile on her face.
Last night was incredible for her. She couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked under her; squirming and whining as she drilled her hips into you. She hadn’t remembered the last time she’d shared her bed with someone she cared about. You made her feel young again. Reminded her what it felt like to be desired, to be craved by another woman again.
She couldn’t resist her hands roaming across your soft belly pulling you closer to her warm body. She kissed the side of your head down to your ear nibbling softly on your earlobe making your stir in your sleep. You turned your head to face her and she brushed her nose along yours before pulling away to see a faint smile on your sleepy face.
A mischievous idea popped into the older woman’s head and before she could dwell on it much longer she moved her body down your naked one before settling between your thighs. She hadn’t gotten a taste like she had wished for last night but this would be the first of many times she was going to get to.
She kissed your hips and gently caressed the inside of your thighs softly. Your knees pushed back subconsciously allowing her to settle more comfortably. She leaned down kissing the inside of your thighs softly pulling sighs and moans from you already. She kept her eyes trained on you as she licked your pussy.
Your hips wiggled and bucked forward into her mouth; your sighs and whimpers grew louder at the feeling. You thought you were dreaming. Feeling the older woman between your thighs felt surreal. You woke up hazy quickly registering the beautiful redhead that buried her tongue deep inside you.
Your hands found home in her red and blonde locks that you spent many nights dreaming about tugging on. Her big green eyes were trained on yours with nothing but a mischievous and lustful glint in them. She inserted a finger past your folds; it felt cold and soft. Your body unable to resist shuddering.
"Nat," you sighed, keeping your fingers buried in her long locks.
"доброе утро," she hummed against your skin making your stomach tighten with pleasure.
She skillfully added another finger stretching you out just a bit but nowhere near as much as her cock did the night before. She spread your folds with her outer fingers before leaning down again flicking her tongue against your bundle of nerves. She moved her fingers quicker in and out you wrapping her lips around your clit sucking harshly.
"Fuck, that feels so good, mommy," you whined, wiggling your hips wildly.
Nat brought her forearm up, resting firmly on your hips to steady your wild movements. She didn't slow down her pace as you got closer and closer to your release. Your moans grew louder as did your whimpers and whines. Your body shook in pleasure as you fell over the edge, crying Nat's name in ecstasy.
You slowly came down from your high in a pan`ting mess. Your skin felt hot and sticky, the sheets clinging on to you. Your tummy flipped and fluttered when you laid your eyes on Natasha. She brought her fingers up to her lips sucking lewdly on them keeping her eyes trained on you slowly crawling back over your body.
"Good morning, красотка," she hummed against your lips before kissing you properly.
"What a way to wake a girl up," you giggled, cupping her face in your hands.
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself. You just looked so fucking sweet lying there, practically waiting for me to ruin all over again," she whispered huskily.
"Nat," you breathed out.
"Y/n," she whispered with just as much desperation in her voice as yours did.
Reality struck suddenly. This was the mother of one of your closest friends, your best friend. she practically twice your age and here you were naked in her bed while her daughter was away. This was so inappropriate. What would happen if you were to get caught by Stacy, finding her best sleeping with her mom? She would kill you, never trust you again.
"This is wrong," you turned your head away.
"Then why does it feel so good? So right?" she ran nose along your jaw and around the shell of your ear.
"Fuck," her cold fingers grazed your soft skin making you burst into chills.
"Just for the weekend, please," she begged.
"Let me have you all to myself for the weekend and when Stacy comes back, we can pretend this never happened. I promise."
"Nat," you whispered.
"Please," Nat begged.
"Just for the weekend?"
She nodded with sadness in her eyes. You pressed your lips to hers momentarily before Nat slowly crawled out of bed. She disappeared into the bathroom quickly coming back out with a fluffy white robe wrapped around her beautiful body. She was ready to walk out but stopped in the doorway turning back to you with a coy smile.
“What do you want for breakfast, baby?”
-
The day went by and Nat refused to take her hands off you. Making breakfast ended with you on your knees, head between her thighs as she patted your head drinking from her mimosa; of course having to put that down and steady herself from how good your tongue felt. Having lunch ended with your hands tied behind your back bent over the couch as she pound her faux cock into you from behind. And it hasn't even surpassed one pm.
The sun shone brightly and you and Nat dressed to spend a couple hours by the pool. She wore a stunner leopard print bikini that you couldn’t help but gock at. She wore a straw sun hat and carried a small book with her. Her curves and long legs on display made your tummy fluttered. You felt unimpressive and somewhat self conscious wearing a simple white bikini.
“Such a beaut,” she smiled, pressing her lips against yours. Well, that certainly made you feel better. She walked hand in yours outside, settling down on a lawn chair. She pulled you on top of her, your knees falling either side of her hips. Her delicate hands rubbed softly over your thighs and hips to cup your cheeks.
“God, I could just kiss you all day,” she grinned.
“Really taking this weekend for granted aren’t ya?” you giggled.
“If this is the only time I get to pretend you're mine, I'll take every second I have for granted,” she whispered.
You looked into her teary eyes, tears building up on your own. It’s not that you didn’t want her just as bad, what will people say if a very popular and successful billionaire business woman in New York City was found dating a significantly younger woman, her daughter’s best friend to be exact, she’d be torn to shreds by the public. That’s not fair to her, or to Stacy.
“I- I’m gonna take a dip,” you smiled softly. Nat could see the cogs whirring in your pretty little head but she knew it wasn’t something to talk about right now; so she didn’t push.
“Kiss,” she pulled you back to her.
You smiled in the kiss before walking over to the pool swaying your hips a little extra knowing she’d be eyeing you up and down. Nat bit her lip and watched you slowly walk into the pool soaking your gorgeous skin that practically glowed under the sun. She knew what game you were trying to play so she shoved her face in her book for the time being.
A few moments went by and you just relaxed by the edge of the pool soaking in the sun and the view that the backyard gave you. You turned your head to look for Nat seeing as this had probably been the longest she’d gone today without taking you in some way, but she wasn’t lounging where she had been for the last twenty minutes.
“Miss me already?” she said walking back outside with two drinks in her hand and a smirk on her face.
“Well, considering you haven’t tried to jump my bones for the tenth time today I was beginning to get worried you might’ve gotten tired of me,” you retorted.
“Hon, I could never get tired of you,” she handed you the glass.
“What is it?”
���Just a pina colada,” she smiled.
“You don’t strike me as a woman who likes to drink pina coladas,” you grinned taking a sip.
“Well, no. I’m Russian. I like vodka; straight,” she said with a thick heavy Russian accent, making you giggle.
“But lucky for you, I’m not,” she wiggled her brows making your eyes widen momentarily before bursting into laughter.
“That was a good one,” you giggled.
“Come here,” she chuckled.
You pressed your lips against hers moving perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. She pressed your back against the edge of the pool slipping her tongue last your lips. She caged you in her arms and yours wrapped around her small waist pulling her body flushed against you.
“God, so fucking sweet,” she whisepred tasting the remnants of the fruit drink you just drank.
Her fingers dipped in the water tracing the waistline of your bikini bottoms. She curled her finger over them pulling them down and you watched them float to the surface gasping when her finger grazed between your thighs.
"красотка, I can feel how wet you've gotten. And I know it's not the water," she nibbled on your earlobe.
"Oh, Nat," you moaned breathlessly.
She pushed her finger past your folds, instantly feeling your walls clench with need. She circled your clit expertly with her thumb, pressing her lips back on yours desperately. You brought your hands up and playfully flicked her sun hat off before wrapping your arms around her neck, arching your chest into hers.
Your leg wedged between her legs and she slowly grinded on your thigh. Her lips went to your neck softly sucking and biting the delicate skin as her fingers moved quicker and quicker stroking your velvety walls perfectly, chasing your release for you.
That was something you quickly noticed about her. Nat was an extreme giver. She always went out of her way to make you come undone for her. You had tasted her already but you had yet had a chance to have your own way with her. As much as the thought alone made you tingle, she always beat you bending you over whatever surface was available, the bed, the couch, the counter, anywhere taking you however she deemed appropriate from behind.
"Shit, I'm gonna- Fuck!" you squeaked.
"Come on, baby. Come all over mommy's fingers. Look at me," she demanded, her hips grinding wildly along your thigh chasing her own orgasm too.
You stared intimately into her eyes as your stomach tightened and your legs shook. If you weren't floating between the wall and her body, without a doubt your knees would've buckled sending you to the floor. You grip tightened around her neck pulling her forehead against yours as you felt yourself topple over the edge. Your body reaches nirvana as you cry her name.
Nat watched you with pure adoration and an open mouth as she came on your thigh. When you both eased back to reality her lips immediately found themselves back on yours. You breathed heavily through your nose and when she pulled away you couldn't help but chuckle.
"What?"
"You're addicted to kissing me," you giggled.
"I can't help it, красотка. Taste so sweet," she bit her lip.
"Let me grab some towels, baby."
Nat went inside leaving wet footprints along the house. She'll clean that up later. She grabbed a bundle of towels for you after putting on her fluffy white robe she usually wore. You stayed in the pool still breathing heavily waiting for her to return with those towels. Seeing as the pool wasn't necessarily as 'clean' as it was moments ago you opted to just get out and wait on a chair instead.
Suddenly, on her way back to the pool the front door opened and Stacy and her boyfriend walked in arguing. Nat's eyes widened and she looked at you who stood butt naked in her pool. You heard the two's sudden appearance, freezing in fear before realizing you needed to get dressed before either one catches you.
You jumped back in the pool treading the water to grab your bottoms that practically floated away and Nat tried her best to distract them for the time being until you were decent.
"Hi, you two are back so soon?" Nat said with a bit of annoyance in her voice.
"Jason booked the hotel room for one night instead of three," Stacy said frustratingly.
"I didn't mean to," he responded shyly.
"Can Jason just stay with us for the rest of the weekend?" Stacy asked.
"Sure," Nat sighed.
"Is everything ok, mom?"
"Yeah," No it's not.
You put your bottoms on overhearing the conversation. Your heart sank. Was it over? Did your glee filled weekend with your forbidden love end already? You looked sorrowfully at Nat who too looked to be in complete frustration and anger.
“Did I interrupt anything?” Stacy chuckled clearly joking but unbeknownst to her she really did.
“Oh, no. We were just tanning by the pool,” Nat shrugged with a half hearted smile. You hesitantly walked towards Nat seeing as she still held all the towels. You could still feel her; her lips on your neck, her fingers between your thighs, her core grinded against your thigh, her breasts pressed against yours, fuck. Fuck Stacy and her boyfriend coming home early.
“What happened?” Jason asked passing by you towards the pool.
“What do you mean?” Nat asked, handing you the towel.
“There’s something gooey, like white slime in the pool,” Jason called out and your eyes widened; you came pretty hard in Nat’s fingers but you didn’t know it was that much.
“We uh… we were having a drink, spilled some in the pool. Hence why we’re getting out,” Nat lied.
“Want me to call a pool guy?” Stacy asked.
“The filter should take care of it,” she waved off.
“Are, uh- are you kids hungry?” Nat redirected the conversation.
“Starving,” Stacy chuckled.
Stacy and Jason went to the kitchen leaving you and Nat alone for a minute. You couldn’t say anything afraid your voice would betray you. You went to leave, accepting that this fantasy you indulge the past twenty four hours, the best twenty four hours you’ve ever had, was over.
“Y/n,” Nat grabbed your arm as you tried to walk away.
“The weekend’s over, Nat. I’m sorry,” you whispered tears brimming your eyes.
“I’m gonna shower,” you said before walking away; Nat letting you go considering there wasn’t really anything else to say.
She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge grabbing some ingredients and placing them on the counter.
“What happened to Y/n?” Stacy asked.
“She’s gonna take a shower. She’ll be back,” she responded, still holding a solemn expression.
“Are you sure everything’s ok, mom?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
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ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)
@mathletemadison​
@buckybarnes101​
@l-sofiamia-l
@pluto-grl
@partr1dge
@stefans-wife
@cordeliaswhore
@fleurlovesbucky
@povsmarvel0720
@missroro
ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (Natasha’s Fics)
@natasha-danvers
@fayhar
@mitchiesdungeon
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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago
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obvius w sebastian bc hes my baby. Seb's pov? fluff fluff
Hehehe Obvious is such a cute song🥺 I hope you like it and thank you for being patient!❤️❤️
Also just realized you said you wanted it in Seb’s pov, I totally missed that, I’m so sorry💀😭
💌.
obvious
Warnings: none, just different mornings of waking up next to Seb:)
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I love the taste of you in the morning
Keep me warm and
Nothin' else, nothin' more important
Makes me wanna believe in love (Mmm)
I love the thought of us in the evening
Crave the feeling
The way you feel, somethin' 'bout it's healing
I'm praying we don't fuck this up (Ah-ah-ah, babe)
The sun’s light shines through the curtains creating a warm light to fill the room. The room is slightly chilly but you could care less. Being in Sebastian’s arms had kept you warm throughout the night. You take a breath in as you stretch your limbs out, the sounds of the sheets shifting and your joints cracking breaking the silence.
Sebastian’s hand rests on your bare stomach under your shirt. His large hand keeping your exposed stomach warm. You stroke his arm before turning in his grip. You’re greeted by Sebastian sleeping beside you. His hair is a fluffy mess, the ends splayed out against the pillow his head is on. His face is peaceful while his mouth is slightly agape.
You lazily smile as you lightly brush a strand of his short hair from his forehead. You press a kiss to the corner of his lips as you admire his sleeping form. Was it kinda creepy? Maybe. But the love of your life was sleeping beside you in bed and you enjoyed the feeling of waking up beside him.
Sebastian’s lips crack into a smile a few seconds after you kiss him. The sight makes you grin, “Were you awake this whole time?”
Sebastian hums as he rubs the sleep out his eyes. Your (e/c) eyes meet his crystal ones when his lids finally open. Pulling you closer into his chest he softly says, “I woke up when you started stretching.”
You look up at him and kiss his chin as he looks down at you. His thumbs stroke your back as his palms are flush against your skin.
“Good morning.” You contently sigh. Your arm rests on his shoulder while your fingers card through his soft hair.
“Good morning, iubitel.” His voice is rough and gravely, fresh from sleep. You realize how lucky you are to be one of the first people to hear his voice like this in the morning.
“I like this.” You muse as you tuck your head in between his shoulder and neck.
“You like what, my love?” His chest rumbles against yours, reminding you that this is real and that he woke up beside you.
“Waking up next to you. Waking up in your arms and being warm when I wake up because I have my own human furnace.” You feel him shift so that he’s on his back and you’re on top of him. You rest your head on your arms as you stare down at him, “I want this every morning.”
“I know, I want this every morning too. You’re a really great teddy bear.” He jokes as he leans into you. You make a noise and hide your face in your arms. Sebastian huffs as he tries to maneuver his way to your lips.
“Baby, I need my good morning kiss.” He whines, trying to move your arms.
“No, let me brush my teeth first.” You protest. Sebastian huffs again and flips the two of you over. Suddenly, his fingers are digging into your sides, making you squeal.
“NO SEB!” Your hands grip onto his trying to stop his fingers. Sebastian smiles and crashes his lips onto yours. The taste of him entering your mouth as you eventually kiss him back. His fingers now stroking your sides, soothing them from his tickling.
“I love you.” He tells you against your lips.
“I love you too.”
Others that I've had had to impress me before
But I knew you were the real thing
When you walked through the door
I didn't think that I would have to spell it out
You met Seb on set of The Winter Soldier. You were part of the makeup department and he happened to be assigned to you. Now during that time, he was in a relationship, though that didn’t stop you from secretly having a crush on him. I mean, you had to face him every single day because you did his makeup, so you couldn’t avoid him.
You remember the first day you met him. The way he walked in through the trailer doors with a shy smile on his face and how he asked if he was in the right trailer. Since the beginning, he’s shown nothing but kindness and respect to you and the others on set.
You work with him again during Civil War and you guys got closer. He was assigned to you again which meant you saw him everyday. You guys caught up, asking each other what they’ve been up to or how their day was. When you asked him how his girlfriend was he made a face and told you that they broke up. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the tiniest bit of excitement burst inside you.
Around the same time, he asked you out to lunch during one of his breaks. As much as you wanted to go you couldn’t because you were needed on set. So Sebastian brought lunch to you, which started the routine of having lunch in his trailer together. Trailer lunches turned into real dates and those dates eventually became the start of your relationship.
Oh, my love, oh, my love is free
Ain't no price on my loyalty
No shit, got me right where you want me, baby
Could I be more obvious? (Ooh)
The two of you were tangled in your sheets once again on a sunny morning. Sebastian had been staying at your place for a few days now, wanting to spend as much time with you before he leaves for another one of his projects.
The two of you laid in silence, basking in the warm and calm atmosphere of the sun’s light in your room. You were laying on your stomach, your right hand tucked under your head and your left hand on Sebastian’s chest. Your eyes were shut as you felt Sebastian play with the fingers of your left hand.
“You’ll still be here for me when I come back right?” He asks, his voice so small and quiet. His question makes your eyes open so you’re staring at the side of his face. He’s focused on your fingers, eyebrows knitted softly together.
You stop his fiddling and interlace your fingers with his. He turns his head to look at you, smiling when he sees you’re looking back at him.
“Of course I will. You don’t even have to ask me twice.” You tell him reassuringly as you scoot closer to him in bed.
“Why?” You ask him, your chin now resting on his shoulder.
“I don’t know. You deserve someone who’ll spend all the time in the world with you. Not, not me. I’m always leaving for work and I barely get to spend any time with you. You deserve someone who wakes up in the same time zone as you and not have to have dates over FaceTime because they keep missing out anniversaries.” He explained as he went back to playing with your fingers. You pull yourself up to rest on your elbow and guide Sebastian’s face to look at you.
“Who says I’m not happy to be in a relationship with you? I understand your job and I know it’s difficult, but in the end we’re gonna see each other again. You make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I wouldn’t ask for anyone else, Seb. Trust me, I only want you.” He looks into your eyes and finds nothing but sincerity.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” You place your lips onto his as his thumb runs along the skin of your left ring finger. 
Maybe if I'm lucky, you might stay the afternoon
If you gotta work, just promise me you'll come back soon
Maybe you should pack a suitcase too (Too)
I love the thought of you never leavin' (No)
Days repeatin'
Gettin' steps up on the treadmill while you sleepin'
Never thought I'd believe in love again
The bed shifts underneath you, causing you to stir in your sleep. Sebastian shushes you when he sees you turn to his side. He watches as your arm reaches out for him but instead it’s met with the bed. He audibly awes when he sees you pout and scrunch your face up in your sleep. He kneels onto the bed and runs a hand through your hair before kissing your temple.
“Sebba.” You mumble as you start to wake up. Sebastian hums softly as he strokes your back.
“Go back to sleep, it’s four in the morning.” He’s now sitting on the bed. He wants to stay with you and wake up in the late morning, but he was needed on set.
“Why are you awake? Go back to sleep.” You whine as you shove your face into his pillow.
“Because I have work, baby.”
“Not even a few more minutes?” You huff, eyes finally opening to meet his in the dark.
“I’m taking my few more minutes right now.” He chuckles as he rests his head on your back. The rhythm of your breathing lulling him back to sleep.
“Do you have to go? I want you to stay.”
“Yeah, they need Bucky on set.” He answers as he tries to get you back to sleep. One of his hands are on your back slowly making circles on your back to soothe you to sleep.
“Bucky doesn’t even talk that much, he just runs a lot.” A lazy smile is on your face as Sebastian gasps.
“I’m kidding, you know I love Bucky.” You hum as you snuggle deeper into the covers. Sebastian feels your breathing get deeper, meaning you were drifting off again. 
“I’m gonna get ready.” He whispers to your sleeping figure. He hesitantly gets up from the bed slowly and carefully so you don’t wake up again.
When he’s finished washing himself and putting clothes on for the day he finds you cuddling his pillow. He smiles to himself and leans down to press a kiss on the corner of your lips.
“I love you.” He whispers. He leans back up but feels a tug on his arm. He looks down to see your hand gripping on his wrist while you look up at him through heavy lids.
“Promise me you’ll be back soon?” You ask him quietly. Sebastian leans down again and pecks your lips.
“I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He tells you as you drift back to sleep.
A hint of a smile is on your lips as you dream about your future with Sebastian. Not having to sleep over at each other’s houses because you guys bought a house together. Him coming home to you and a cooked meal you’d make for him. Then after you guys would watch tv and tell each other about your days. Maybe you’d be up before him in the morning, working out on the treadmill while he caught up on some sleep. The future you envisioned with Sebastian was everything you could ever want. Not now but soon down the road, maybe those imaginations would become reality? It’s just a matter of time until Sebastian gets down one knee and makes it all come true.
iubitel ~ baby, darling
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starlight-writes-stuff · 4 years ago
Note
Can I request how the feral boys would ask you/ what they would do for your first time sleeping over as their girlfriend? That sounds weird but I hope you know what I mean lol. I love your writing by the way!
hi friend , and thank u ! i appreciate it <3 this is a super cute idea and i had a lot of fun writing it ,,,,, im so soft for them i can't . xoxoxoxoxo , starlight
AYO LOOK AT THESE : the smallest bit of smut but overall fluff ! soft feral boys content , come get yall juice
reblogs are always appreciated !!! <3
dream
wouldn’t be planned tbh , you’d been at his place all day and you’re both too tired to drive
you’d start to call an uber and clay would turn your phone over
“you could… stay here, if you want?”
it was a no brainer
of course you’d stay with him
clay would be so excited , smiling through his sleepy haze
he’d finally get up from his computer just to shower you with kisses all over your face
he’d tackle you back onto his bed , his soft , silly kisses turning into lingering, hard kisses
all teeth and tongue and his hands all over you
he’d get one of his legs between yours, shuddering at the way you’d whine into his mouth
his hands would make their way down to your hips
he’d grind your hips down on him , your sleepiness only making you more sensitive
you bet your ass that he’d make you cum just from grinding on his thigh
he lives in a constant state of horny™ even when he’s tired
clay would be so cocky at how he’d made you finish , doing virtually nothing
but he would go so soft at the way you were exhausted after that , yawning and rubbing your eyes
‘baby’ , ‘love’ , ‘pretty girl’
so affectionate 
you could’ve fallen asleep just like that but clay makes you get up and change
“baby , you don't want to sleep in your clothes” 
“sleep in mine instead”
you would just grumble back at him until he would physically lift you out of bed
clay would help you out of your clothes 
he’d put you in his sweats and a giant dream hoodie
just incase sap walked in for some reason
doesn't want him seeing any of the goods™
he’d carry you to the bathroom and find an extra toothbrush
clay would absolutely try to talk to you while brushing his teeth and the two of you would laugh s o hard at each other trying to talk with mouths full of toothpaste
again , he would pick you up and carry you back to his bed , shutting the door behind the two of you
“don't you want to say goodnight to sap?” “no :)”
the two of you would fall onto his bed and be asleep within 10 minutes , completely tangled in each other
he talks in his sleep
but you snore
so its even
☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁
george
soft george my beloved
he’d probably plan your guys first ‘sleepover’
he would want to make it special , and definitely do something memorable
george would bring it up to you like a week before
he’d practically invite you like it was a birthday party :,)
i can't
he’d make reservations for a nice dinner before and get all dressed up
george would pick you up and hold your hand on the console
he’d open all the doors for you 
he'd pull out your c h a i r
yall would definitely be cracking jokes all throughout dinner in the middle of this fancy restaurant
george would ABSOLUTELY knock his silverware off the table at some point
you would have to fight to not spit your drink out , laughing so hard
he’d skip on desert at the restaurant and take you to dairy queen or something
it would be the two of you in your fancy attire , sitting outside some tiny ice cream parlor
looking at eachother like you were the only two people on earth
yall are in L O V E 
once you two got home george would carry your overnight bag in 
he would change immediately 
bc he h8’s fancy clothes 
but wanted to dress up for you 
after you guys changed into pajamas , you’d stay up talking for hours
he’d tell you stories of him and all the feral boys
you’d tell him stupid things you did as a kid
the two of you would want to make the most of the extended time you had together and stay up until like 2 in the morning
george’s voice would get all low and raspy from talking for so long
you’d fall asleep on the couch together when you physically couldn’t hold your eyes open anymore
george would wake up when the sun started shining through the blinds
he would carry you up to his bed 
then promptly fall back asleep with you in his arms
☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁
sapnap 
snapmap my love .
this man doesn’t plan shi t
it would be very spur of the moment , the two of you laughing at some joke that he made when he’d grab your hand suddenly v serious
“will you sleep with me tonight?”
he’d look so earnest while asking that and you would BURST into laughter
it would take nick a hot sec to realise what he’d said and once he did . he would simply . disintegrate .
he would be so dramatic about it too
“i was trying to be romantic ! stop laughing at me !”
and you would just sit there , laughing so hard that you couldn’t produce noise anymore , just silent wheezes
you would start to cry and nick would pOUT
you would just nod , literally unable to produce words
but sap would brighten up at that
“so you’ll stay the night?”
once you got control of yourself , the two of you continued on doing what you were doing
it was like a normal day other than the fact that it ,,,, wouldn’t end
you two watched movies and played minecraft all day , being lazy together
you’d doordash dinner or order pizza or something so you didn’t have to leave the house
he’d have to stream and you would just chill , eating pizza in bed
once it became apparent that the stream was gonna last longer than planned , you would quietly come up behind him and drop a kiss on his cheek
he’d grin at you but be confused ???
you’d text him so your voice wouldn’t pop up on stream
‘gonna take a shower / keep myself busy’
he’d text back a single ‘👍🏼’
sapnap texts like a dad and NO ONE can tell me otherwise
you’d shower and get dressed , then wander down to the kitchen trying to find something to do
scavenger hunt™ for cookie ingredients
you’d bake his favorite and surprise him with a warm cookie im s o f t
the SMILE that would cross his face my god
he would feel so loved
he’d mute stream to thank you, putting his hands around your waist and burying his face into your stomach
you k n o w he’d find some way to end stream early after that , wanting to be with you
the two of you would finish off all the cookies , watching scary movies together
he’d hold you when you jump at all the spooky shit
you’d do the same for him bc sap is baby
chat . i'm kinda scared . lowkey .
you were both half asleep by the time you made your way back up to his room
you’d be lights out the minute your head hit the pillows 
and he’d be big spoon
☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁
karl
karl would probably ask you that day , texting you before you’d even come over to ask if you would stay the night
you two had technically slept over before , but never at karl’s place (usually pulling all nighters with the feral boys on stream or with the beast crew)
you can not tell me . that karl . would not build a fort . with you .
and he would 100% go all out with it
he’d get lights to string up on the inside (the twinkle ones for sure)
he would get a fuckton of pillows and the softest blankets he can find and pile them in
karl would essentially make a nest for the two of you
you’d spend the first hour alone sharing soft kisses and cuddling so close that you weren't sure where you ended and karl began
he’d hold you , letting you lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat
you’d talk about everything and nothing at all , just wanting to hear each other’s voices
until someone’s stomach growled
he’d laugh until he couldn't breathe 
you had tears rolling down your face , your stomach hurting from the giggles 
he’d either take you to get food before or doordash your favorite
because neither of you can cook blESS
you’d pick out cute , matching pajamas for your first official night together
but
he’d end up giving you his clothes to sleep in 
because he likes you wearing his stuff 
and it's more comfortable than your fancy pajamas
he’d cover his eyes and face a blanket/wall while you were changing
the only time either of you would leave the fort would be for more snacks or to go to the bathroom
karl would bring his laptop in and turn in a movie as you two were settling in for the night 
(some super dumb kids movie) 
(my brain immediately went to the lorax) 
(i’ll see myself out)
and he’d stay awake until you fell asleep, your face buried into his t-shirt
it made his heart so full that you felt safe enough to fall asleep with him
he’d play with your hair and trace over your features as soft as possible
because you're just so beautiful when you’re asleep ??
karl murmurs how much he loves you , everything that he loves about you while he knows you can't hear it
he’d drift off with you still in his arms, his lips pressed to the top of your head in a sweet, gentle kiss
and the two of you would stay like that the entire night , keeping each other warm
im so soft for him
can u tell
karl jacobs my love
☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁
quackity
listen
everyone writes big q as a stupid dumb dummy
and while he can be that at some times
this man would be so fucking thoughtful ??? when it came to his girl ?????
you literally can't tell me otherwise .
much like gogy he would plan something special
but like
he can COOK yall
he’d make you a nice ass dinner
and set up a picnic in the backyard 
he’d light candles and make it all fancy
literally it would be a scene out of a movie
once you finished eating dinner the two of you would watch the sunset
he’d play guitar and sING FOR YOU
you’d stay outside soaking in the heat even after the sun had gone down
stargazing for as long as you could
alex would put his arm around you and have you lay on his chest
you’d listen to his heartbeat while you pointed out the big dipper
he’d make up his own constellations aljidhkuvgfhadj
you two would only go inside because you were being eaten alive by mosquitos
one of you would play music off your phone and yall would slow dance in the kitchen
he would repeatedly tell you how much he loved you , pressing tender kisses to your neck , your jaw
until a fucking ad would play
and alex would just lose his shit
he would laugh so hard he’d ipad kid cough
then you would simply ascend
the two of you would be laying on the kitchen floor absolutely D Y I N G of laughter
you’d stay there for a while , trying to recover
by the time you did , your ribs were sore from all the giggles
alex would pick you up and throw you over his shoulder , walking you up to bed
he’d suplex you onto the mattress
the two of you are children around each other tbh
that would lead to a wrestling match
until you’d found your way onto his lap , pinning him by his wrists
w h e w
the way that man would kiss you after that ? bye im gone
lets just say by the time he was finished you would both be exhausted
he’d tell you how pretty you were , how good you did
the two of you would fall asleep with tangled limbs , half kissing
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dreamypeaches · 4 years ago
Text
don’t wake up pt. 2 | rafe cameron x reader
summary: after spending the week hoping to see rafe again, sarah invites you to a sleepover at tannyhill.
warnings: SMUT, cursing, alcohol use
word count: 2.8k
a/n: thank you all for the wonderful response to part 1! this is my first time posting smut, so let me know what you think of it. i honestly think i did a good job rereading it, bc it is hot. there will definitely be one or two more parts to this, maybe even more idk. all i know for sure is there will be a lot more sexy times. enjoy :)
series masterlist
It had been a week since the Boneyard kegger and you couldn’t get Rafe out of your head. You hadn’t seen him since that night, at least not in real life. Your dreams, however, were plagued with him. The way his hands had gripped your hips, his lips on your lips, your neck, imagining how they would feel on other parts of your body.
Part of you had been tempted to drive down to Figure 8 and “run into him” somewhere. One morning, after an especially steamy dream, you almost asked Sarah for his number. But then you thought of the questions that would come with that request and decided against it. You felt pathetic, pining after a guy you’d spent a couple hours with. A guy who, by all accounts was an asshole and hated people like you. Why would he want a Pogue like you?
Still, you wanted to see him. At least once. Just look in his eyes and see if that same spark was there. You had even tagged along with JJ during the day more often than usual, hoping Rafe and his Kook friends would appear to antagonize one of your best friends. But he was nowhere to be seen. As the week came to a close, you resigned yourself to experiencing his touch in your dreams only.
You were laying in the hammock at the Chateau listening to music with Kie, who laid beside you lazily braiding your hair, when Sarah suddenly appeared. She practically jumped onto you and Kie’s laps, a grin on her face.
“Let’s have a girls night!” She proclaimed, “Ward and Rose are taking Wheezie and her friend on a mini vacation on the mainland, so I have Tannyhill all to myself!”
“What about Rafe?” You asked, trying to fill your voice with disdain rather than hope. Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry about him, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother us. So?”
You and Kie looked at each other. Kie raised her eyebrows, a smirk on her face. You smiled back and nodded. Both of you looked back at Sarah.
“We’re in!” Kie said.
“Yay!” Sarah pulled both of you into a hug, already unleashing all of her plans for the night. After telling you to be there at 6, she left to prepare for the night.
“It’s been so long since we’ve had a night just us girls. I mean, I love the boys, but I could use a break from them,” Kie said, finishing the braid in your hair.
“Yeah, fuck the boys,” You giggled, though in your head, you were much more focused on one particular boy than the girls night ahead of you.
Kie drove you to Sarah’s house, arriving at 6:30. Kie complained about how long it took you to get ready for a sleep over. You just laughed and told her you needed to look good for your girls. If she had know the truth, her head might have exploded. You had worn your cutest pair of pajamas, a large shirt with short shorts that left little to the imagination. You’d even done your make up. Not much, keeping it natural. After all, it was a sleep over, you didn’t need to go all out.
You were disappointed when you didn’t see Rafe as you walked in, but assumed Sarah had probably threatened him with violence if he came anywhere near her friends. You tried not to let thoughts of Rafe distract you, actually wanting to enjoy the night with your best girl friends. Sarah had stolen a couple bottles of wine from her dad’s wine cellar, passing around wine glasses before heading up to her room.
The three of you quickly became tipsy on the wine, giggling at little things. You all were laying on Sarah’s large bed, giggling at Sarah’s sexual mishap with John B in the Twinkie.
“I thought my nipple was going to come off! Like I’m sorry, I know it probably hurt when I kneed your dick, but who bites a nipple that hard? So, moral of the story, never have sex in the back of the van.”
You and Kie burst into laughter, while Sarah contained her giggles, trying her best to look annoyed.
“What about you two? Any sexy stories to share? Y/N, what about that Touron from the kegger?”
Your laughter quickly faded as Rafe was brought to the forefront of your mind. You bit your lip, trying to hide a smile.
“Nothing happened, I haven’t seen him since that night.”
“Well, you need to track him down!” Kie exclaimed, sitting up on her elbow to look down at you. You just shrugged, not meeting your friend’s eyes.
“Y/N, you should have seen the look on your face when we were leaving. You had literal stars in your eyes.”
You shrugged and downed the rest of you wine, sitting up on the bed.
“I don’t know. If I run into him again, we’ll see what happens. I’m gonna go get some water.”
Sarah started asking Kie about the girl she had been talking to as you padded out of the room and down the stairs.
You made your way to the kitchen, where a happy surprise waited for you. Rafe stood cooking something at the stove. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His back was facing you, giving you a moment to take in his form. Your eyes wandered his body, tracing his biceps and the curve on his shoulder blade.
“Hi, Rafe,” You finally said, just loud enough for him to hear. He turned suddenly, surprised expression quickly turning to a smirk. You looked into his green eyes and felt your heart jump when you saw it. That spark you’d been hoping for for the past week.
“Hey,” he replied. You slowly made your way to the cupboard, making sure to brush up against him as you passed.
“How’ve you been?” He asked. You shrugged, filling up your glass at the fridge.
“I’ve been better. I’ve been a little lonely, especially at night, you know? My mind starts to wander to certain places,” You moved back over to Rafe. Your chests were almost touching as he smirked down at you. His breath fanned across your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Maybe you need a little company,” He whispered, his low tone going straight to your core. You smiled at him innocently, moving so your lips were inches apart.
“Yeah I do.”
You noticed him start to lean in and quickly pulled away, skipping towards the stairs.
“That’s why I’m having girls night,” You called, keeping the innocent look on you face. His light eyes had grown dark, watching as you moved away. They followed the curve of you ass, very evident in the shorts you were wearing. You inwardly smirked at the effect you had and started up the stairs.
“Your grilled cheese is burning, by the way,” You called. You giggled at the quiet shit he let out and made your way back to Sarah’s room.
You, Kie, and Sarah spent the next several hours having as much fun as you could. After a few dance parties, a couple rounds of truth or dare, and intense argument about whether Hannah Montana or Miley Cyrus was better that almost turned violent, you all collapsed on to the bed, turning on a random movie. Sarah and Kie fell asleep quickly, but you were wide awake, replaying the moment with Rafe in the kitchen.
You rubbed your thighs together, wanting nothing more than for Rafe to touch you. With a groan, you hopped out the bed and quietly escaped Sarah’s room. You had been to Sarah’s house several times before, but your knowledge of the layout was reduced to the path from the kitchen to Sarah’s room. You tiptoed down the hallway, trying to figure out which room was his. You a few doors down from Sarah’s, you could see a faint light from beneath the door frame. You knocked a couple times, then stood, waiting. It didn’t take long for Rafe to open the door. He was still shirtless, but had removed his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. He smirked down at you, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head.
“You fucking tease,” He said before crashing his lips onto yours. You were almost knocked off your feet by the force of it. You placed your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Without breaking the kiss, he moved you into his room, kicking the door closed behind him. His hand moved down to your ass, gripping hard as he lightly slammed you against the wall. He broke the kiss, brushing your hair out of your face as his eyes examined your flustered face. The same hand slowly moved down your cheek until it was gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Do you have any idea what you do to me? I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week, how I wanted to fuck you while you screamed my name.”
You let out a whimper at his words, breathing uneven. You could feel your panties become more and more soaked as his hand moved from your ass to your hip, playing with the waist band of your shorts.
“Then you come into my kitchen wearing this, getting me all worked up.” He laughed humorlessly, his hand diving below your waistband. His fingers ghosted across the soaked fabric that covered your center.
“Got yourself all worked up too, didn’t you?”
Your panties were pushed to the side, giving him space to run his fingers through your folds. You let out a moan as you nodded. His finger came up to his lips, sucking your wetness from them.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you,” He said before going on his knees in front of you. His breath fanned against your inner thighs as he slowly slid your shorts down your thighs. When they landed on the floor, you stepped out of them and kicked them across the floor. Rafe placed gentle kisses across your thighs and stomach, avoiding the spot you needed him most. You whimpered as his mouth hovered over your clothed clit.
“What do you want, baby?” Rafe said.
“Touch me, Rafe, please, I need you!” You moaned out. He was quick to respond, fingers deftly moving your underwear aside, giving him space to wrap his lips around your sensitive bundle, lightly sucking. You moaned so loudly it was almost a scream. Rafe gave a hard slap to your ass in response, looking up at you.
“Uh uh, not too loud, angel. Don’t want your friends to hear, do you?”
You shook your head quickly, hand reaching down to push him closer to your pussy. He chuckled before compiling, licking a strip up your center, thumb moving to rub circles against your clit. Your head fell back against the wall as he continued his movements. His tongue delved into you, flicking in and out. One of his arms wrapped around your thigh, holding you up while spreading you wider. You were already a mess of pleasure when he slowly pushed two fingers into you, tongue moving up to you clit. You bit your lip to surpress your moans, but it was difficult as his fingers started to move faster. It became too much and a single, long moan escaped your mouth. Rafe’s movements ceased. He removed his fingers from you and stood up, hand gripping your hair, pulling it to where there was more pleasure than pain,
“What the fuck did I say?” He asked. Your tried to rub your thighs together, trying to regain the friction you had lost, but he moved his leg between your own.
“I’m sorry, Rafe. Please, I’ll be quiet, I promise,” You whimpered.
He smirked at you.
“Yes you will.”
He kissed you again, tongue dominating your own as he explored your mouth. He dragged you to the bed, throwing you down on your back before returning to his knees, pulling you to the edge of the mattress. He nearly ripped your panties off, mouth diving back to taste your dripping center. His hand reached up, clasping over your mouth, while the other returned to your entrance, fingers fucking you roughly. It didn’t take long before you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. Your screams were muffled behind Rafe’s hand as he continued to lick and suck on your clit, fingers pounding into you. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you came on his fingers. You felt him smirk as you clenched around him, but his movement didn’t let up. He moved his hand up under your shirt to massage your breast while his tongue moved down to fuck your entrance. He went back an forth between your entrance and you clit, hand moving between both your breasts to roughly massage them. Your second orgasm came fast and hard, leaving you with stars behind your eyes as he lapped up your juices.
He moved up your body, biting and sucking across your torso, leaving bright red and purple marks like constellations. He reached your face and removed his hand, kissing you hard and allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He broke away, pulling your shirt over head and throwing it to the side before standing up, pulling his boxers off. You bit your lip as you stared at his cock, wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He stroked himself a few times, taking in your fuck out look and the hungry look in your eyes.
“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to taste my cock later. Right now, I want to feel you.”
He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a condom. He ripped it open and rolled it over his dick, stroking it a few for times. He stood over you, eyes once again raking over your body.
“God, look at you. You’re gonna take me so good.” He leaned over you, hand coming up to grip your throat. A moan started to escape your lips at the pressure, but he caught it with a kiss. He pushed himself into you as he kissed you, giving you little time to adjust to his size before he started pounding into you. He broke the kiss, holding himself up on his forearm as he thrusted into you. His hand tightened around your throat, muffling your loud moans slightly, leaving the only other sound in the room to be the slapping of skin and the dirty words Rafe whispered in your ear.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.”
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you like this for days.”
“Feel so much better than in my dreams, baby.”
“Taking that cock so well.”
After several minutes, his hand moved from your throat down to you clit, rubbing fast circles into it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his thrusts became harder, hitting that spot inside of you. You were so close. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, you could tell he was close too. He leaned down again, fingers still working your clit, and whispered, “Cum all over my dick, angel.”
You did as you were told, coming with a scream of his name, for a moment not caring if Kie and Sarah heard. Rafe wasn’t far behind you. He suddenly pulled out, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. He removed the condom from himself and gave a few short stroked before coming across your chest and stomach.
“Fuck,” He whispered, more to himself than you. You heard him walk to the joining bathroom, but didn’t pay much attention. Your eyes were shut tight, trying to catch you breath and come to terms with what just happened. You just fucked Rafe Cameron. Hard. And, if you’re being honest with yourself, it was the best sex you’ve ever had.
Rafe returned with a wet towel, cleaning his cum off of you before collapsing beside you. He pulled back the covers and pulled you into his side under them. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat in his chest. His hand gently played with your hair, a stark contrast to his actions before.
You laid their in silence, neither of you knowing what to say. Eventually, you heard Rafe’s breath even out, quiet snores vibrating through his chest that you found adorable. You untangled yourself from his arm, slipping off the bed to gather your clothes and redress. Sneaking back to Sarah’s room, you hoped neither of the girls had noticed your absence, or heard you screaming Rafe’s name a few rooms down.
The next morning, Rafe woke feeling cold. He turned over to where you had been lying, the nights events running through his head and he hoped that it wasn’t just a dream. But he smiled when he noticed a yellow sticky note on the pillow beside him with a series of numbers and a note in your unique handwriting.
Text me :)
taglist: @bluesiderudy 
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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years ago
Text
what i want.
roman godfrey x reader
summary: takes place in s1 of hemlock grove just after roman’s coma and the aftermath.  
word count: 3.1k
a/n: yeaaahhhh so i know this is st related but it felt more right to post this here over my marvel account? anyways, i just really really wanted to write for roman and this poured out of me yesterday (which is surprising bc i can’t remember the last time i wrote a fic all in one day) but even though i already know this is gonna flop, i wanted to post it anyway just for fun (: i hope you enjoy and if you do read, please let me know that you think!!!!
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With an ear pressed to his chest and a hand cradling his neck, you counted the rhythmic beats of his frail heart.
He looked the same, felt the same, smelt the same; but the man we lay still below you wasn’t Roman. Not in the metaphorical sense at least. This man who’s lashes lay gently against the apples of his cheeks obscuring his large doe eyes, wasn’t your love. He was still and quiet and lacked the emotion of your Roman. Your Roman who could never hide how he really felt, who wore every feeling on his sleeve, unable to mask his emotion.
At least, always around you.
A soft french ballad played in the background as you hunched over his hospital bed in the attic of the Godfrey home. You could hear the faint scratch of the needle against the vinyl, more so when there was a lull between songs.
Heavy footsteps entered from your right and you knew before they reached you that it was Shelly to fetch you for school.
“I know, Shell.” You said quietly, like you might wake Roman from his restless sleep if you spoke any louder, “I just need a few more minutes with him.”
The tall girl loomed over you both, watching you stroke Roman’s cheek lovingly with your thumb, the rest of your nimble fingers still holding his thin neck.
She had never experienced the kind of unequivocal and palpable love that she did when she observed you and Roman together. She often wondered if all the tales of true love and soulmates that were regaled in some of her favorite novels were actually true? Because the way you looked at Roman, and the way Roman looked at you, could not be fabricated or faked.
After a long beat of silence, Shelly gripped her phone and typed out a simple message to you.
“I miss him, too.”
She could see tears forming in your eyes once more. Your eyes that seemed to have not ceased their perpetual filming for the last two weeks Roman had been under.
All you could was nod in response. When Shelly placed a dense hand on your shoulder, you silently wept.
It all felt so surreal. But Roman was always larger than life, you probably should have prepared for something like this. You were just so scared.
That night two weeks before, when he had come to you in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, you had been scared then, too. Roman was dramatic, yes. But never anything like this. He trembled fiercely and his fingers twitched and his muscles rippled with fear.
He didn’t seem himself as you wrapped him in blankets and placed him in your bed to warm his icy bones. You had wound your arms around him as he cried into your neck, tears and snot streaking your skin as you soothed him the best you could.
“I’m ugly, I’m a monster, I am unlovable and disgusting.” He chanted between hiccups and deep intakes of breath, like he was under a spell.
“Please stop, please don’t say that. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. I love you, I always will.” You whispered sincerely to him, beginning to shutter yourself at the uncharatieric behavior he was displaying.
He startled you even more when he grasped your wrists together with one hand and flipped you onto your back, meeting you with a fierce kiss before you could comprehend his actions.
It was all teeth and tongue and labored breathing as Roman pulled your strings in only the way that he could. Once he was inside you, he only became more brutal. It was more pain than pleasure as he looked at you with soulless eyes and his mouth agape. But everything Roman was, was good. Even now he felt like heaven.
When he had finished and pulled two orgasms from your body, he collapsed on top of you. You cocooned him with your limbs, whispering loving words and frightened questions as his body seemed to pass out from sheer emotional exhaustion, anchoring you beneath him.
The next morning, you were dressed in nothing but Roman’s cardigan and tucked underneath your duvet with no knowledge of his departure the night before.
It was only minutes after you woke that Olivia called to curtly inform you of Roman’s condition.
You placed your own hand, the one not holding Roman, over Shelly’s and squeezed it.
“He is so lucky to have you.” You said, swallowing thickly to look up and give Shelly a smile, “He loves you so much, I know he’ll wake just for you.”
Shelly knew you were trying to soothe her as well, something you had a knack for since you came into the two Godfrey’s lives. She appreciated it greatly, but wished you would let yourself swim and stop trying to make sure she stayed afloat.
“You, as well. He will wake for us.” Shelly typed and you squeezed her hand in a tight pulse.
“We can only hope.”
You dropped Shelly’s hand as she went to turn the music off while you kissed Roman goodbye.
“Where, today?” Came Shelly’s mechanical voice as the music ceased.
“His left eyelid.” You replied, standing up and stroking Roman’s porecelain cheek.
You had taken to kissing a new part of Roman each day as you left him. To cherish him even while his mind was missing. You were saving his lips for when he woke, hoping his subconscious would crave your mouth on his enough to jar him from his slumber. Roman was never quiet about his appreciation for your lips.  
“And tomorrow?” She asked.
“The other.”
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As you sat in english class, you couldn’t help but feel Peter’s absence in the seat next to yours. With neither him nor Roman around, you felt off kilter. The boys had been going through a rough patch lately, but Peter was still your friend when Roman wasn’t looking. Giving you winks that would reply with an eye roll, and chatting between classes. You believed you could mend the fence between the two men by simply being Switzerland, but after the police incident, Peter wasn’t so sure.
But you and Roman were alike in many ways, you told Peter as much.
“You two will work this out. Even if it gets hard.” You say flippantly one day as you rummaged through your purse for a tube of lipgloss.
“Yeah? And how do you know? Are you an oracle and just haven’t told me?” Peter jokes as you take the cosmetic from your bag.
You remove the fuzzy doe-foot applicator from the pink make up with a loud squelch and smirk at him.
“Because not only do I know everything,” a swipe of the goods on your lips, “But, I always get what I want.”
Now, his absence along with Roman’s seemed to be significant. Connected.
And then you got a call.
And the ID almost gave you a heart attack.
You fled the classroom without the formality of an excuse. It wasn’t any secret that you and Roman were a couple, so some teachers had been far more lenient with you since he had fallen under. Thankfully, Ms. Day was one of them.
You ran from the class and around the corner for the veil of privacy before you picked up the call.
“Roman?”
“God, how I’ve missed your voice.” He said, punctuated with his melodic laugh.
You burst into tears, clenching your phone tightly in your sweating palm as Roman cooed to you.
“Hey, hey, no. No tears, baby. Too fucking hot to be sad, you know that?”
“I’m not sad, God no! These are tears of joy, of fucking relief.” You felt suddenly very fatigued from the worry and dread escaping your body at the sound of Roman’s voice, and slid down the wall to the grey linoleum below.
“Good, hate to think you’d forget about me after two weeks out of commission.” You could see his smile in your minds eye and your stomach twinge with love.
“You know I could never forget about you.” You replied, whipping your damp cheeks on the back of your hand.
“I’m glad. I was counting on it.” You can see his smirk now.
“Dick.” You laughed and he did as well.
“Eh, you love me.”
“Yeah, yeah I do.”
There was a silence and you wished so helplessly that he was in your arms. Your Roman. Not the still and sterile one. The one with a wicked tongue and a beautiful smile that he offered to you so freely.
It was in this silence though, that you heard the purr of an engine.
“Baby, are you in a car? Are you with Olivia?”
“Uh, no. Not exactly.” And the bubble of joy popped just as it had formed.
“Roman, where are you? Why are you in a car?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my love.” He hummed quietly his adoration and immediately you knew what was happening.
“Put Peter on the phone.”
“How did you-”
“Just fucking do it, Roman.”
You could hear him curse, then the shuffle of the phone being passed between hands.
“Hey, (Y/N/N), how’ya doin’?” Peter asked, faking a calm tone.
“Let’s forget the goddamn pleasantries, Peter. What in the living fuck are you doing trying to track this wolf when Roman just rose from the dead?”
“Rose from the dead sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Does it sound like I give a shit?”
“Frankly, no. It doesn’t.”
“And what does it sound like I give a shit about?”
“Probably Roman not doing this right now.”
“Bingo, Fiddo. Now you either take him back to his house or I am coming to find you two and I promise you, I can be scarier than Olivia.” You hissed into the receiver, looking around to make sure no rouge students in the halls were hearing your conversation.
“Oh I don’t doubt it. But this was his choice, (Y/N). Nothing neither of us can do anything to change his mind.”
“Peter, I swear to-” This time, you were the one cut short.
“Baby, listen,” Roman said after commandeering his phone back.
“No, Roman, you listen! I know you have some attachment to helping kill this thing, but now isn’t the time.”
“But it is. It’s complicated, but you just have to trust me on this.”
“I do trust you, Ro. I do. But I don’t trust whatever this thing is.” You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, “Unfortunately I do trust what it is capable of. Which is a fuck tone pain.”
“I’ll be safe. I have Peter, Peter’s got me. I got this. We know what we’re doing.”
“Wish I could believe that.”
“Baby, I promise. I swear, even. We are gonna find some answers and then I’ll be home to you in one piece.”
You pause and Roman calls your name from the phone, his voice vulnerable.
“It’s funny. This morning you were in a coma and you were more safe then than you are right now.”
“I love you.” Roman says firmly.
“I know.”
Another pause and you know you can’t scold your way out of this one.
“Just… please call me when you get back. I don’t think I can take another minute of being away from you.” Your tears were beginning again.
“Me too. You’re all I can think about,” Roman sniffles, “I need you, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You both sit in silence on the line before Roman tells you he needs to go.
“Ok… but hey, Turner?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell Hooch to be careful. Both of you just… be careful.”
“Always.”
And the line goes dead.
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After school you debated going straight to the Godfrey residence to wait for Roman to return, but decided against it. You weren’t sure exactly what Olivia knew and didn’t know, and didn’t feel like being alone with her while you figured it out.
So, you waited anxiously in your bedroom, doing everything possible to quell your shaking nerves. You had a perpetual tremor in your body as fiddled with your phone to try and distract yourself. Which was partly true, the other reason your phone was glued to your palm was so you would know the second Roman contacted you.
Though, as the sun descended in the sky and the night sky spanned for hours, you were becoming more restless. Whatever Peter and Roman were doing was no doubt dangerous and time sensitive, and it made you sick that it was nearing midnight without any word from either boy.
As the night continued to wear on and your mind ran away from rationality into an amalgamation of pure fear and absurdity, you decided you couldn’t sit around anymore. You weren’t going to wait for Roman to call and tell you he was home safe. You were going to drive to his house and wait for him there, and if he wasn’t back in an hour, you’d go out looking for him yourself.
As you put on a pair of house slippers and a sweatshirt over your nightgown, your phone vibrated on your vanity. Your heart began to speed up in your chest as you rushed over to the table and picked up your buzzing phone. On the screen was a text alert from Roman, with only one word present:
Come.
And you didn’t need to be told twice.
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When you arrived at the Godfrey’s, you fled your car so quickly you almost forget the keys in the ignition. You ran up the front steps and banged both fists on the door needing to use your excess anxiety and adrenaline for something. And while you didn’t want to face Olivia’s wrath, your judgment was clouded by the chance of seeing Roman, alive and well.
When Roman finally opened the door, you wasted no time throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled at the impact of your embrace, but was quick to remedy his shock by wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of this made your throat constrict.
“Jesus fucking Christ I missed you.” Roman all but growled as he firmly smoothed flyaways from your hair and placed his strong hand on the back of your neck.
“You have no idea how much I missed you, Ro.” You said, voice thick with tears as you began to pepper kisses anywhere you could reach.
Neck, jaw, ear, temple, cheek, shoulder, trap, clavicle, repeat.
Roman groaned appreciatively in your ear as you covered him in your lips.
“You scared me half to death you know?” You said between kisses.
“I know, I’m sorry. Things have been… odd. I still can’t remember it all.” Roman says, his tone confused.
“Well, Olivia said-”
“I know what she said. I just don’t know if I believe it.”
You furrowed your brows and tried to wiggle in his hold, silently signaling for Roman to place you back on your feet, but he only gripped you tighter.
“Not yet. Just, stay a while.” His voice wavered.
You finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes red from tears and shadowed. Sometimes it was difficult to look at him, his beauty and pain were just too much.
“I’m staying, Roman. You couldn’t get me to leave if you wanted to.” You reply.
A wash of emotion washes over his features as his lip quivers and his eyes attempt to blink back tears. You opened your mouth to try and alleviate him of whatever he was feeling when his mouth crashed to yours.
You forgot how good his lips felt against yours as your mouths meshed together. The velvet of his tongue and the mint and smoke on his breath. His hands gripping you everywhere as he pressed you impossibly close, moaning into you with deep primal noises sounding from his chest.
“Roman, baby,” You pulled away for air and Roman promptly moved his attention to your neck and clavicle. “I need you. Take me upstairs, I can’t wait any longer.”
Roman groaned and bit you hard on the shoulder before hitching your legs higher on his hips and running you both up the winding staircase behind him.
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Bruises, at the behest of his mouth and fingers, littered your body as you lay on Roman’s chest as you both still reeled in the blissful aftermath of your climaxes. Roman’s fingers idled along and spine while his unoccupied hand rested behind his head.
He had begun to tell the tale of his night, of Peter and the turn and Chasseur and his mother. He told you Peter was upstairs unconscious and that he was unsure what was going to happen when he woke.
“So, after all this, everything’s still shitty? Is that what you’re saying?” You muttered.
“Essentially. But I have hope… we’re going to figure this out. I know it.” Roman nodded, like he is reassuring himself more than you.
“Me too. You two are smart,”
“You flatter me.” Roman chuckles and looks down at you.
“Just trying to butter you up to get into your pants.” He laughs again and slaps your ass.
“Clearly it’s working.” He replies.
“Well that, and I always get what I want.” You say with a content smile.
Roman hums, “Don’t I know it.”
“You enable it.”
“Again, I know.” He kisses your forehead and you burrow closer to him.
You two lay in silence a bit longer before he sighs.
“I think we should move to sleep in the attic. Just in case something happens with Peter and he needs us.”
We. Us.
The small implication in his word choice makes you smile and once again fall under a wave of emotion, just so happy that your Roman was back to you.
You don’t know what you had done if there was no we or us with Roman any longer. But you choose to not fixate on the past.
You just nod and kiss the underside of his chin. Roman gives you a small grin and begins to get up. As you do the same, Roman throws you one of his white button downs, giving you a stern look as you raise an eyebrow in question.
“Just put it on. I got two weeks to make up for, baby. It started with reuniting, then fucking, and now you in my shirt.”
You try to hold off the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face and put on the shirt, buttoning it to just above your cleavage.
“Yeah? And what’s next?” You ask, watching Roman round the bed toward you.
“Sleep.”
Now in a pair of threadbare silk pajama pants and nothing more, Roman extends his hand to you.
“Shall we?”
“We shall.” You reply, taking his hand, weaving your fingers as he led you to the attic.
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i hope you enjoyed even though it was for a different show!! and if you did, pls i’d love some feedback (:::: also let me know if you would possibly want another roman fic bc i have other ideas lol
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baroquebucky · 5 years ago
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Italian days
request: could you write something about going to Italy with timothee? Im just imagining how cute and romantic it would be 🥺
a/n: this is so cute !!! prepare for typical tourist attractions also i have no idea where any of these things are in relation to each other so :-) i literally googled what to do in these places bc I’ve never been sorry guys:-( this ones long so strap in and get ready !!! let me know what y’all think abt it ! i kinda wanna make headcanons about this too hehe >:) I hope you all enjoy it and send me some requests 🥰
You quickly finished packing your last t shirt in the already full suitcase, putting your weight onto it so that you could zip it up fully. You were excited for the trip that timothee had planned for the two of you, giddy to finally spend some alone time with you favorite boy. “ma cherie are you almost done?” you heard timmy call out from the living room. Quickly you grabbed the final bag off the bed and scanned the room, going over a mental checklist to ensure you didn't forget anything. 
“okay i have everything, did you get everything? Do you have all the things you need? What time is it? Are we gonna be late? Oh god what if the plane leaves without us” you began to ramble, going through every worst case scenario possible. Timothee looked at you in awe, he had never seen you this nervous about anything before, he least expected it to come out right before a romantic getaway.
“angel, calm down, it’s fine let’s go to the airport we’re right on time” he smiled at you, giving you a quick kiss before he helped you with your bags and you two headed to the Uber waiting outside your shared apartment. As you helped him squeeze the luggage in you both sat in the backseat, you were so excited for the trip.
“You know we should go to Paris for our next anniversary” timmy spoke offhandedly, mindlessly playing with your hair as the movie you had chose played on the tv. “That would be fun, I’ve never been there” you smiled, looking at him briefly before your eyes settled on the screen again.
“where have you traveled to?” He questioned, curious as to all the places you’ve visited. “mmm i mean I’ve never been to Europe, i left the state a couple times for road trips but that’s about it” you replied, not thinking anything of the question. “You mean to tell me that you’ve never been to Italy?” He gasped and you laughed at his shock.
“We aren’t all stars or rich Chalamet” you suppressed laughter but one look at his facial expression caused you to burst into a fit of laughter. “That’s it im booking a flight to Italy, we can go to venice and oh we could even travel to where we filmed call me by your name! And then we could go to Rome!” He gushed, moving quickly to get his laptop.
You were excited, until you realized you had $20 in your wallet and maybe $67 in you bank account. “Timothée wait no” you spoke, rushing behind him to stop him. He turned around confused as to why you didn’t want to go.
“do you not wanna go? I thought you liked Italy? You show me videos about people going there all the time” he asked, searching your face for an answer. “I do! I’ve always wanted to go there” you stated, sighing as your gazes met. “it’s just- how am i gonna pay for my ticket? I don’t have enough money and-” before you could finish timothée cut you off.
“what makes you think you’re paying?” He grinned, running to the room to get the laptop once again. You messed with your fingers for a second, you didn’t want him to spend money on you, you’ve always felt bad about it.
“timmy no you can’t just buy me a ticket there” you spoke, walking into the room, seeing the boy sitting on the bed, legs crossed with the laptop in his lap. He furrowed his brows and replied without looking up from his screen. “Why not? You’re my girl, think of it as a present” he smiled, you opened your mouth to protest but he quickly stopped you.
“i just bought them so you can’t take it back” he beamed, you frowned for a second before he gave you the puppy eyes. Of course you couldn’t resist, you tackled him with a hug and kissed him, thanking him a million times.
And so here the two of you were, sitting in the backseat on your way to the airport, going over the loose itinerary timothée had made for the two of you once you landedin Venice. He had gone beyond what you expected to make this trip memorable despite telling him to not worry.
When you got to the airport everything went surprisingly smooth despite you being nervous the whole time. The two of you bought breakfast and ate it in the little food court, then headed to the gate which your plane would be in and played games while waiting to board.
Once the plane arrived the two of you got on, of course he had bought first class, you wanted to scold him for spending so much but as soon as you saw how excited he was you couldn’t be mad at him. “look! we get pillows and everything” he giggled, you smiled at him and nodded, equally as excited as him. The two of you ended up watching two movies, falling asleep during the second one.
You woke up first, smiling at the sight of timmy with messy hair, mouth slightly parted and cheeks lightly flushed as he slept. You decided to wait on waking him up, instead you occupied yourself by looking out the window and listening to your music.
The landing woke timothée up and he smiled at you brightly, it took him a couple minutes to really wake up, mumbling incoherently before he came fully to his senses.
As soon as you got off the plane you were excited, pulling timothée along to get out of the airport as soon as possible. When you finally got everything and exited you got into the car timothée had ordered for the two of you and headed to the hotel to unpack.
Timothée posted a picture of you staring out the window in awe onto his Instagram story, “she’s excited right now, just wait until she sees the canals” he wrote, smiling as he thought of all the pictures the two of you would take.
You expected an average hotel room, if timothée really splurged then maybe above average, you did not expect to get the presidential suite at a five star hotel. The smile on your face made everything worth it to timothée, he made sure this trip would be memorable. “Timothée Hal Chalamet! How much did you fucking spend!” You squeaked, rushing around the room to check everything on.
“That doesn’t matter, what matters is that you get changed and get ready, we’re in Venice for two days before our next stop and I have so much for us to do” he smiled, pulling you in for a kiss which you quickly returned. Resting your head on his chest you sighed, taking a Monet to let everything sink in. You’re in Italy with the love of your life. Holy shit.
Timothée had bought multiple disposable cameras for the two of you to use, wanting to develop all of them by the time you guys got back home.
Before you knew it you were wandering the streets of Venice, a permanent smile on your face as you took so many photos of the scenery and of timothée and of course together. The two of you visited the top tourist spots like Saint Marks Basilica, the both of you in awe of its beauty and laughing until your stomach hurt feeding the pidgeons.
Timothée was scared for his life when a pidgeon landed on his shoulder, immediately going stiff and begging for you to help him. You quickly pulled out your phone, recording him and zooming into his face, a face of pure fear. After you posted it you quickly shooed the pidgeon away, holding his hand and a small pidgeon landed on your shoulder and you fed it out of your free hand.
You smiled brightly at timothée who had moved away from you slightly causing you to giggle. “You laugh now but I’m gonna be the one poop free, those things are ruthless” he stated, a serious look on his face which quickly turned soft as you attempted to pet the bird on you. “Look at him he’s so cute!” You gushed, drowning as it flew away.
“Cmon sweet girl, we have a ride to catch, in the canal” he winked and you gasped, pulling him before you stopped, realizing you didn’t know where you were even going.
When the two of you arrived he helped you into the boat, it was only the two of you and the one driving the small boat, you were sitting next to each other, pointing at everything, a constant smile on both of your faces. He held your hand the whole time, most of the time looking at you rather than the sights you were in such awe of. A small smile on his face as he admired how beautiful you looked, you looked so stress free and happy and he knew everything else he had planned was so worth it if he got to see you like this.
After the ride on the canals the two of you ate at a small little restaurant, drinking some wine and talking about the days events.
“I just think it’s funny that you were that scared of the pidgeons” you giggled, and he frowned at you, “i wasn’t scared, i was just- cautious” he smirked, watching you roll your eyes at his remark.
The two of you finished dinner, walking around the now calmer streets, admiring everything at night for about an hour, kissing under streetlights and chasing one another through the streets, laughter bouncing off the buildings.
The two of you showered once you got back to the hotel and absolutely crashed after you had snuggled under the sheets. The two of you exhausted from the plane ride and walking everywhere all day.
You both woke up late in the morning to the sound of timothées alarm, you yawned, burying yourself more into timothées side, wanting ten more minutes. “Wake up mon amour i still have some stuff planned for today before we leave for Florence” he spoke softly into your hair, kissing the top of your head. He had decided to skip on taking you to Crema, deciding it would make for a good excuse to come back.
You woke up slowly, getting ready and waiting for timothée on the bed once you had finished. You were starving but you didn’t want to eat without him. You laid on your stomach and dozed off only to wake up to a now fully dressed timothée, smiling at you and kissing your nose. “let’s go eat and then we can head out” he whispered and you nodded, getting up from the bed and following him out the door.
The two of you spent the day walking around and seeing anything else you wanted, eating much too much food and buying way too many souvenirs. The day seemed to fly by and before you knew it you were headed to Florence, of course shoving all your luggage into the bus that the two of you were taking to the wonderful city. You slept most of the way while timothée read through a script for a new movie. He woke you up gently when you guys arrived, piling out along with everyone else as the two of you found the car timothée had ordered for this city, heading to yet another 5 star hotel with an amazing room.
It was late at night so the two of you only slipped into bed and set an alarm for later tomorrow morning, cuddling through the whole night, waking up once to eat some of the fruit that the hotel had given to the two of you as a gift.
The next morning the alarm went off and you quickly turned it off, placing your head on timothées chest, a smile on your face while he played with your hair.
“let’s get ready, i have something special planned, wear that one outfit you brought, you know the one that you said you’ve always wanted to wear?” He smiled, a mischievous glint in your eye. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and nodded, going to get ready.
After you finished you scrolled through your phone, replying to people and sifting through the pictures from Venice, deleting the ones which turned out bad or way too blurry. You decided to lay on your side, thinking you wouldn’t fall back asleep but you were wrong. Before you knew it you felt a gentle nudge.
“Cmon sleeping beauty i have a picnic for us” he beamed, a twinkle in his eye. You woke up quickly, a giant grin on your face as your mouth fell open. “A picnic? Oh my god this is a dream, angel you’re so amazing oh my god! I love you so much” You gushed, tackling timothée once you got off the bed and hugging him tightly, kissing him all over his face.
“i love you more ma cherie, now lets go” he smiled, opening the door for you and quickly taking your hand while walking down the halls.
You had ended up accidentally falling asleep in the car, head on timothées shoulder, he recorded you, saving it but not posting it, knowing if he did you would get him back and start a full fledged war.
As the car approached the Piazzle Michaelangelo he shook you softly, your eyes fluttered open and a small smile overtook your features. “Oh my god it’s so pretty” you gasped as the two of you stepped out of the car and onto the concrete floor, he got the picnic basket from the car as you went to save a spot on the steps. He quickly found you and opened the basket between the two of you, eating the food and making conversation, laughing and enjoying the fact that both of you were in Italy, overlooking Florence.
After sitting there for a while, cuddling and pointing things out the two of you drove into the city, excited to see everything the city had to offer. The two of you walked down the streets hand in hand, taking pictures once more and in awe of the beauty the city offered.
Of course the two of you drove all over the city visiting museums, seeing all the statues and artworks you had always admired through your phone screen. You almost wanted to cry of happiness seeing everything in person, you walked quickly in the museums, timothée barely keeping up with you as you rushed everywhere, making sure you absorbed every last detail.
Of course timothée took the typical you looking at art picture, and of course he posted it and captioned it “art looking at art” causing his fans to go feral, everyone tweeting and posting about how cute the two of you were. You held timmys hand when you realized he was dragging behind, pulling him along and forcing him to move at your speed.
“oh my god I love this painting, look at the brushstrokes! I read once that when he was painting this-” you began, going into detail about said artists life. Timothée stared at you, his chest swelling with love, a smile on his face as you went on and on about the paintings, he hung onto every word you said, loving the way your eyes lit up and the amount of emotion in your voice as you spoke of what you loved.
After you had visited the museums l, the two of you walked all over the city, taking in the culture and also taking many breaks and calling a cab to go to places he had planned to take you. Of course he set up a reservation at a fancy restaurant, eating to your hearts delight and drinking amazing wine, overseeing the bustling city as the sun set.
“i cannot believe we’re in Florence Italy” you sighed happily, looking out at the city while you sipped on your wine, timothée smiled at you. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you enough angel, you really made my dreams come true” you spoke, turning towards your curly headed boyfriend and he shook his head.
“you don’t have to thank me ma cherie. I love seeing you happy, you deserve the world and I’m going to give everything i can to you, you’ve always supported me through anything and everything, you know me so well, i just love you so much” he answered. “but- you can thank me by letting me post a bunch of pictures of you everywhere” he smiled shyly, blushing slightly. You smiled brightly at him, your love for him growing. “oh baby of course” you giggled.
The next day was just as action packed, going to multiple cathedrals and basilicas which you hadn’t gotten to the day before, and then spending time in the gardens, taking so many pictures of each other, half of them turning out blurry because the two of you couldn’t stop laughing.
He held you hand the whole time, keeping you close to him the whole time, kissing you at times and always looking at you with so much love. All over Twitter and Instagram were pictures of the two of you holding hands and laughing, many of them with one of the two of you pointing at something, many of the ones with you pointing had timothée looking at you with a smile rather than what you were showing him, it gave you butterflies.
That night you headed to the hotel early, packing everything to catch the late night flight to Rome, the last destination on the trip. The two of you packed quickly, racing to see who would finish first. This made timothée sneak up behind you and unfold your tshirts, run back to his area and rush to finish, an attempt to beat you. You were one step ahead, you had hidden his shampoo so you had no problem re folding while he ran around everywhere.
“I’m done!” You announced proudly, smiling at your boyfriend and he rolled his eyes, a pout on his face. “That’s not fair! I finished before you i just lost my shampoo” he responded, you smirked at him. “Check under your pillow” his eyes went wide and raced to get it, jaw dropping when he found it. “y/n i swear one day im gonna beat you at these competitions” he huffed, pushing you playfully and you shoved him back laughing.
The two of you cuddled the whole time in the airport, attached to the hip, and napping until your flight boarded, where the two of you also slept the whole time. When you finally arrived in Rome, you both headed to the hotel, knocking out there too, excited for the next two days in Rome before returning home. The two of you only had two cameras left, it filled you with excitement to get the photos developed, knowing you would have so many pictures of him to post and an endless amount of wallapapers.
When the two of you awoke the next morning you headed out quickly, excited to spend yet another day together.
“timothée oh my god look at that dog! Do you think he speaks Italian?” You questioned, smiling at the small dog that walked past the two of you. “I’m sure he does my angel” he replied, laughing. Pulling you along the busy street, putting his arm around your waist.
The two of you marveled at the colosseum, mind running wild at the thought of people using it. “You think they ever had a concert in there?” You asked your boyfriend who giggled, “im not so sure they did my angel” you thought about someone using it today. “What if someone tried to have on in there today” you smiled and timothée quickly replied, “as soon as the speakers start blasting everything would just crumble” you laughed at the thought of someone wanting to have fun only to ruin one of the most iconic pieces of history.
The two of you walked along the streets, holding hands and swinging them back and forth, debating where to go next. “How about the pantheon?” You suggested and he nodded with a smile, “you read my mind darling.”
The two of you got there surprisingly quickly and sat down for a second, both of your guys’ feet hurting. You put your head on timmys shoulder, closing your eyes for a second, you could hear everyone talking, the sound of cars and the wind. “Are you tired mon amour?” Timothée asked, not wanting to tire you out so much, he wanted you excited and happy not tired.
“just a bit, but I’m sure it’ll leave as soon as we see the Vatican” you spoke, a smile forming on your face as you opened your eyes and looked at the brunette next to you. He kissed your cheek, getting up and extending a hand to help you up. “Let’s go see what all those shops we passed have had to offer later yeah?” He grinned and you nodded, stretching a little before falling into step with him.
The two of you arrived at the Vatican and you swear you had never felt more in awe than staring at everything inside, everything was so adorned and beautiful, even the pillars on the outside when the two of you were waiting (only for like 5 minutes) made you smile in amazement. Timothée and you kept pointing out everything, a smile on both of your faces. Both of your cheeks hurt from smiling so much but neither of you complained, too happy to care.
After the two of you walked around for a bit more you left and entered the busy streets of Rome once again, taking pictures of each other all the time and stopping to look at anything and everything. “Let’s go get something to eat” you suggested. “Oh yeah I’m starving after all that walking” he replied, pulling out his phone to find a nice place to get food.
Soon enough he found a nice spot and the two of you arrived there quickly, excited to eat. After ordering and eating the two of you sat in comfortable silence, taking the time to wind down before going back out. “can we go to the Trevi Fountain? I brought coins for us to throw in” you asked and timothée wanted to kiss you all over and hug you and never let you go because god you were so fucking cute.
“of course we can go mon amour, are you ready to go right now?” He asked and you nodded, he paid quickly before taking his hand in yours, the two of you walking slower than before, you were leaning on him slightly, he was talking about some story that had happened to him in high school. You don’t remember exactly how the story had come up but you were grateful that it had.
As the two of you continued walking hand in hand and smiling at the sights you realized that no one had disturbed the two of you this whole trip which was very surprising, but you were grateful that his fans were respectful of the two of you. “okay i told you am embarrassing story of me in high school you tell me one” he pushed and you groaned, stealing the water bottle from his hands and gulping down the drink.
“i wasn’t really embarrassing in high school, i had like five friends and we always looked out for one another, middle school i was the biggest emo alive” you shuddered thinking back to all the diary entries you had made. “I remember i wrote this one poem that was so cringe and i thought it was the best thing ever written” you cringed at the memory and he bursted our laughing, leaning into you as he did so.
“Do you still have said diary?” He questioned, a mischievous smile forming on his face, “back at my parents house yeah” you replied, narrowing your eyes at him, “but you will never lay your eyes on a single one of those pages Hal” you sternly replied, smiling as he rolled his eyes and pulled you closer to him, putting his arm around you. “We’ll see about that one” he smiled.
“oh my god! Timmy there it is!” You shrieked, energy suddenly overflowing as you ran, pulling timothee with you causing him to almost trip over his feet. You pushed through the crowd, saying excuse me and sorrys until you got the the front of the fountain. Timothée arrived a couple seconds after you, out of breath and amazed at how fast you had ran.
“ma cherie you need to slow down” he spoke, leaning over to catch him breath. You stared at the fountain in awe, a smile sprawled across you face, taking in the beauty of it all. “I can’t believe I’m really here” you whispered, timothée got up, wrapping both his arms around your waist. “Believe in my love” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek.
Suddenly you heard a crack of thunder and soon enough rain started pouring, the once crowded area was now close to empty as everyone ran for shelter, you and timothée didn’t budge, mainly because you didn’t even flinch and refused to move.
you turned to timothée, hair sticking to both of your foreheads a wild smile on your face as you dig into your pocket, looking for the coins you had brought. Quickly you handed one to timothée. “Ready?” You smiled and he nodded. “Okay, 1, 2, 3!” You shouted, the coins flipping into the water at the same time. Turning to timothée you found him smiling at you and you laughed.
“When in Rome” you said before bunching his shirt into your fist and pulling him into a kiss, you eyes shutting as rain fell around the two of you. The kiss was what you imagined the movie ones were like, passionate and loving. You smiled into the kiss before you opened your eyes and pulled away.
“you drive me crazy y/n” he whispered, a giant smile on his face as you wiped away the water from your eyes and pushed the hair out of your face. “Should we get out of the rain?” You giggled and he nodded, “probably, we don’t wanna get sick” he joked and you punched him. “Don’t fucking jinx it!” You yelled, running to the nearest shelter you could find, which so happened to be a tourist shop.
Shopping with timothée was always fun, shopping with timothée in another country was another level. He wanted to buy you everything you looked at, he would buy you at $50 shirt if you really wanted it. The two of you were dripping wet and needed to buy new clothes or else you would definitely get sick. You ended up wearing tacky tourist shirts, getting matching ones of course and buying souvenirs for everyone back home as well as a few things to decorate and to keep for yourselves.
Considering how hard it was pouring and the fact that the two of you now had wet socks you decide to call it a day and go back to the hotel room, not wanting to get sick considering tomorrow was the last day. You were glad that it was already 5 pm, you wouldn’t have missed that much that you had planned and you could easilh get to them tomorrow.
You guys quickly got into a car and made your way back to the hotel, opting on showering together. As the two of you stepped in you let out a sigh at the feeling of the warm water. You let the water rinse the two of you off before shutting it off and getting timothées shampoo, telling him to turn around so you could wash his hair.
“thank you for this whole trip baby, it’s really been a dream come true” you spoke, massaging the shampoo into his hair. “Im sorry that it rained sweetheart, i really wanted us to be able to do everything because this was supposed to be perfect and-” you frowned at him despite his back being to you. “Timothée you can’t control the weather! And even then this trip is already perfect because I’m here with you. I’m in Italy with the love of my life dammit, ive drank so much good wine and eaten even more good food! We haven’t gotten this much time alone in god knows how long, you’ve literally had a chauffeur in every city so that we didn’t have to worry about parking and you made us an itinerary! Everything about this trip has been perfect, even the hiccups in the road.” You stated, smiling at the memories the two of you had already made.
You turned the water back on to rinse the shampoo out of his hair and he smiled at you, kissing you on the forehead. “And plus, i finally got my kiss in the rain AND it was infront of the trevi fountain, how am i supposed to complain again ever?” You smiled up at him, he laughed and quickly closed his eyes as shampoo rinsed from his hair. He grabbed your shampoo and began to wash your hair, you relaxed at his touch and closed your eyes.
“I love you so much angel, you don’t even understand” he whispered, you hummed in response. He gave you a soft kiss to your neck, giving you goosebumps.
Soon enough you guys hopped out of the shower, warm and clean and changed into some pijamas, snuggling into bed and looking out of the giant window next to you. Between the sound of the rain hitting the window and timothées soft breathing, you quickly dozed off, not caring that it was only 6:30 pm and you’d probably wake up at 2 am with an insane amount of energy. Timothée asked you something,confused as to why you weren’t replying until he looked at you, a bashful smile on his face when he saw you sleeping.
“you know i love you so much, you mean the world to me mon amour, there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you” he whispered, brushing your hair lightly to get it out of your face. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, turning the lights off in the room before closing his eyes and drifting off the sleep alongside you.
You ended up not even waking up throughout the night, instead sleeping until early the next morning. You hadn’t realized how tired you had been until now since you were more energetic than ever, excited to get as much in on the last day.
Timothée was the one dragging you around everywhere today, determined to get through the list had made, you smiled at him as he explained everything to you, surprised at how much he knew. “When did you make this list anyway?” You asked over lunch, looking up at him after you chewed your food. “I woke up at 2am and i couldn’t sleep but i didn’t wanna wake you up so i made this list and researched everything so i can give you the full tour guide experience” he replied, a giant smile on his face as you gawked at him.
“yeah that’s it, I’m gonna marry you” you shrugged, continuing to eat as timothée blushed and kept eating. The conversation flowing easily between the two of you and a comfortable silence falling into place at times.
The day continued quickly, visiting many more sites and before you knew it your disposable camera came to an end, and 30 minutes later so did timothées as the sunset. The two of you sat down on a bench, waiting on your guys’ driver to arrive so the two of you could pack up and head home.
“i can’t believe it’s over” you smiled softly, sad that it was over but happy that it happened. “Don’t worry mon amour im sure we’ll be back soon enough” he smiled and you put your head on his shoulder. “I love you with everything I have timothée” you spoke, looking up at him from your position. He kissed your forehead gently, “i love you so much more y/n” he smiled.
The two of you once again raced to pack up, you purposefully ‘lost’ your favorite shirt and let him win, although he would always hold it against you, it didn’t matter because you would lose over and over and over again if it meant seeing the amount of joy on his face when he shouted “IM DONE” and looked over at you with an unzipped suitcase.
As the two of you were waiting at the airport gate you had to make the obligatory Instagram post, gathering pictures of the two of you together and of yourself to post, you smiled as you picked out the photos. Searching the internet to see if anyone had caught the two of you kissing in the rain in front of the fountain, which of course they had. You looked over at a napping timothée, smiling as you set the photo as your lockscreen and added it to your post, quickly you typed out your caption.
“Italian days <3”
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yikesharringrove · 4 years ago
Text
Umm, I accidentally deleted the request for this while moving it to my inbox, so here it is. (Also this is like, four months old).
I’m gonna rec this fic which is super well written and adorable
Steve is ftm. (Personally, I’m not a big fan of mpreg unless it’s like, biologically plausible 🤷‍♀️)
Under the cut bc it’s long and there’s a little bit of smut.
-
Billy’s hands were shaking as he raced out of the house.
He had a bag slung over one shoulder, had already put two others in the Camaro.
His dad had gone in hard today. Three days after Billy graduated high school and he’s already calling him a deadbeat, a fuck up. Telling him to get a job like he hasn’t worked every summer and most weekends since he was fourteen.
He lit a cigarette as he slid into the driver’s seat.
He was gonna make one stop on the way outta town.
-
Steve had given Billy a spare key months ago, after he was tired of always having to go downstairs and answer the door.
He liked it when Billy just made his way up, started kissing whatever skin was already exposed and asking Steve if he’s wet.
Tonight, Steve thought, was no different.
Billy was kissing up his calf, mouthing along his knee, a few fingers creeping up the leg of his shorts.
Billy was the best sex he’s ever had. Not a lot of gay guys will go down on Steve, some won’t even fuck him. He had been real hesitant to tell Billy, start having regular sex with his best friend, because he didn’t think Billy would want anything to do with him when he knew what he was bringing to the table.
But Billy had told him not to be an idiot, ate him out, and pounded him into the mattress.
And Steve was in love.
So he let Billy fuck him whenever he pleased, because at least Billy was giving him the time of day, at least he was getting some.
He opened his eyes, smiling lazily down at Billy.
“‘Time is it?”
“Almost two.” Billy was curling two fingers into his waistband, slowly pulling down his shorts, like maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.
Steve lifted his hips, and Billy whipped off his shorts, diving right in for his pussy.
He ate him out with the same fervor he did everything. Making all these gross slurping sounds, sucking on Steve’s cock and shoving his tongue inside him.
He made Steve cum twice on his face, as was the norm, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and getting right to business.
He fucked Steve like he was mad at him.
He often did. And Steve knew he wasn’t mad at him, moreso mad at the other him, the him that’s ruined Billy’s life since before he was even born.
Steve wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought. Knew that when Billy snuck into his bedroom at odd hours of the night and absolutely ravished him, something bad had happened with his dad.
So when Billy finally rolled off of him, and lit a cigarette, Steve knew better than to ask.
“I’m leaving.” Steve just hummed at him. Billy sometimes stuck around after sex.
But Billy didn’t move.
“Like, leaving Hawkins.” Steve just hummed again. Billy talked a lot about leaving Hawkins. Steve had always secretly dreamed of running away with him. 
Billy just studied his face in the dark, stubbing out his cigarette and rolling over to hols Steve close to his chest.
Steve closed his eyes, let himself pretend.
Pretend that Billy loved him back.
-
He woke up to rustling, Billy getting dressed to leave as weak sunlight began to trickle through his curtains.
“Oh shit, didn’t mean to wake you.”
He smiled lazily at Billy.
“You comin’ back over tonight?” Billy looked stiff.
“Probably not. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yeah. Later.” Billy was sitting on the end of his bed, had just finished tying on his boots.
And then he moved, quick as a flash to kiss Steve softly before he was thundering down the stairs.
Steve was just falling asleep as the Camaro roared away.
-
Billy had skipped town that night.
And Steve never forgave himself.
-
Steve was leaning over the counter, his head pressed into the cool top of it.
“I threw up all last week, and I just feel like shit.” He had been whining to Robin practically all morning at Family Video.
“Do you think you have the flu?”
“I don’t know, Rob. I mean, my stomach hurts a lot, but like, it feels like I’m just having awful cramps.”
“Are you on your period?”
“Nah. Don’t get it very often with the hormones anymore.”
“Normally I’d suggest pregnancy, but I know you’re in a bit of a dry spell.” He rolled slightly to look darkly at her. “Still no word of Billy?”
“No. The one person in Hawkins that isn’t too transphobic to fuck me, and he skips town.” Steve sighed. “I should’ve known, too. He was being super weird that night.”
“Whatever. When you and I skip town, we’ll have the time of our damn lives, and get you laid.” He laughed softly.
“I’m just gonna go to the doctor this weekend. Get a full physical.”
“Let me know the verdict at and I can come over with some medicine, if you need.”
“Thanks, Rob.”
-
Steve was lying back on the stiff exam table.
He had already given blood and urine samples, and was just waiting for the doctor to tell him what the fuck was wrong with him.
Sometimes his hormones had to be adjusted, and caused all sorts of weird shit to go haywire in his body.
Dr. Mauch was a kind woman, always been pleasant and accepting of Steve, even referred him to an endocrinologist for his hormones.
She didn’t smile when she came in, though. Just sat down at her stool.
“I’m going to go out a limb here and say that this is not news you’ll be happy about hearing.”
Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“You’re pregnant.”
He blinked.
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Steve. But you most definitely are.”
“But, but I’m on blockers, and testosterone, and I haven’t had sex in months.”
“I’d say about six months.” His mouth was dry. Billy had left in late May. About six months ago. “And being on hormones is not an effective method of birth control. Some men still get pregnant after taking them.”
“I’m not, I don’t look pregnant.”
“Some people don’t really show their pregnancy. My sister was rail thin the entire time, had a perfectly healthy baby girl. It’s all about your body type.”
“So, so you’re telling me, that I’m six months fucking pregnant.”
“Yes.” He slumped back onto the exam table.
“What are, what are my options?”
“Well, unfortunately, not many. Abortions are only legal in Indiana up to 20 weeks, or five months, or unless the person pregnant is facing severely compromised physical health. There’s always adoption.”
“No one’s gonna want a baby from a trans guy.” She pursed her lips.
“I think that’s a harsh statement. Many people are desperate for babies.” Steve just stared at her.
“So, if I have to take it to term, should I like, go off my hormones.” His stomach gave a lurch at the idea.
“I would recommend it. There’s very little research one pregnancy in transgender individuals. We really don’t know how hormones can affect the baby.” Steve sighed. “I would say, get in with an OB/GYN. I can recommend a few I know and send them your medical history. Your name change and hormone therapy is part of all of it, so hopefully they will be kind.” Steve sighed.
“Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry for the disappointing news.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” She gave him a copy of their appointment notes, a list of OB/GYNs for him to research, and a hug before she left.
He drove home slowly, feeling exhausted, like the weight of the fucking world was on his shoulders.
He got home to find Robin sitting on his front porch, her nose buried in a book, a pizza box sitting next to her.
She looked up at him, and he burst into tears.
-
“Look, Max, if he contacts you in any way, tell him to call Steve, okay? It’s important.” Robin was yammering to Max on the phone, trying to get a way to contact Billy.
Steve was laying on the couch, had his shirt rucked up over his stomach, pushing it out and sucking it in, trying to see any change in his body.
“Just give him Steve’s phone number and tell him he’s an asshole.” She hung up the phone, perching on the armrest at Steve’s feet.
“She know where he is?”
“No. She said he ran off and hasn’t contacted her at all. She didn’t even know he was leaving.” She slid onto the couch, let Steve put his feet on her lap. “You think he’d come back? If he knew?”
“I don’t know. I’m not really asking him to. I mean, I don’t think I’m in a place to take care of it, but I kinda just want him to know it exists. Like, I think he deserves that.”
“I get it.” Her voice was soft. She watched Steve stare at his tummy some more. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is just, dysphoria out the wazoo.” Steve huffed a laugh.
“I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I think ‘cause I’m not showing. I don’t look pregnant, so how can I be pregnant, you know?” He sighed tugging down his shirt. “Going to the doctor’s gonna be a damn nightmare, though. They’re too used to dealing with women. It’s gonna suck.”
-
Steve was right.
Even though his primary care doctor had sent his medical history, he still got deadnamed and misgendered at reception, and intake, and by the nurse, and the doctor when she finally arrived.
They gave him a pelvic exam, getting him in for a sonogram as well.
And as the doctor was moving the imagining wand around on his tummy, and he heard the heartbeat for the first time, something caved inside of him.
A baby. He was having a baby.
And part of him, a really fucking big part of him, was starting to love it.
-
His parents were home for four days.
And Steve had waited for the final day of their homesteading to tell them.
He���s glad he did.
Diner was as quiet as always, and Steve had nearly choked on the words.
“I’m pregnant.”
His father had gotten out his wallet, asked how much an abortion costs.
“I’m too far along for that. Nowhere will legally do it.”
His mother had just stared at him. His father asked how far along he was.
“Close to seven months. I didn’t even know until like, a week and a half ago.”
And his father had stood up, and the yelling began.
“I can’t believe you. You kick up this huge fuss, make us change your name, and the way we refer to you, go around telling everyone your a boy, and you get pregnant like the little slut you are.”
And he had told Steve to back his shit, told him he was not welcome in my house anymore.
And Steve didn’t have a lot of shit he cared about, the clothes he liked fit in one duffel bag.
His mother didn’t look at him as he left.
-
He had called Mrs. Henderson from a payphone.
Nobody else could give him a ride anymore, and he wasn’t expecting her to drop everything and drive him somewhere, but she had freaked out at the words kicked out and for getting pregnant, and told him to stay where he is.
She was there with a tight hug and a travel mug of honey lemon tea within twenty minutes.
Steve had asked for a ride to a youth shelter he had read about, but she shook her head, said you’re coming to live with me and Dusty and Steve had cried in her passenger seat, and again in her guest bedroom.
-
Steve groaned.
He had finally begun showing, just a little bit out a mound near his belly button.
But he felt like shit, had taken to spending most days in bed.
He bat away whoever was shaking him.
“Go away.”
“Steve, it’s Max.”
“I’m sleeping.”
“I found Billy, you asshole. I have his address.” Steve sat bolt up straight.
“You, where is he?”
“Boston. He went east, for some reason. But he sent me a letter, out of the blue, and I told him you had something important to say, but he said he doesn’t have a phone.” She handed him a slip of paper.
“Thanks, Max.” He gave her a weak smile, found her chewing her lip.
“Is he the father? The other father, I mean.” He had told the party about the pregnancy, figured rumors would begin spreading soon enough.
“Yeah. He’s the other father.”
“He wouldn’t have ditched you. If he’d known.”
“I know.”
“He’s not like that.”
“I know.” She stared him down. He kept his face open, honest.
“Are you gonna write to him?”
“Yeah. I just, I don’t really know what to say.”
“Just keep it simple. Tell him he’s got a kid. Let him choose what he wants.”
-
It took Steve almost a month to draft a letter.
He didn’t really know what to say.
He settled on the bare minimum.
I’m pregnant. And it is most definitely, without a doubt, yours. I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t want money, or for you to move back to Hawkins. I just thought you deserve to know about your kid.
He read the letter about three times, one hand pressed delicately to his little bump.
I’ve decided to keep the baby. I’m going to raise them. You’re welcome to meet them, and be in their life if you choose, but if not, I’m not going to hold it against you.
He sealed the envelope, leaving it on his nightstand.
And then his contractions started.
He didn’t get around to sending it.
-
Claudia was the only person in the room with him when he gave birth.
She held his hand the whole time, coached him through his breathing.
And when his son was born, she pet his head, told Steve how beautiful he is.
-
Steve was slumped face down on the bed.
He had just gotten Oliver down, calmed him down enough for him to finally sleep.
He rolled over, scrubbing a hand down his face.
He had barely slept all week. But Oliver had smiled at him for the first time yesterday.
He turned to lay on his side, zeroing in on the envelope on his nightstand.
He sat up quickly.
Fuck. He needed to send that letter.
He didn’t bother thinking about it, just wrapped his sweater tighter around himself, and hurried to the mailbox. He put the little flag up, leaving the letter in the little inner clasp.
He looked back down at Oliver, running one finger over his fuzzy little head.
-
He didn’t hear from Billy for three weeks.
He knew the letter wouldn’t take more than a few days to get to him, and it would take just as long for Billy to get him back.
He had pushed Billy out of his mind, figured if he wanted to be part of Oliver’s life, he had given him enough of a chance to be.
He put on a thick sweatshirt, had taken to wearing baggy tops to hide his tits, too sore, too big to bind anymore. Oliver squealed at him when he leaned against the side of his crib, reaching out for him.
He strapped him into his stroller to take him on a walk, stopped dead in the doorway.
Billy fucking Hargrove was in the driveway, standing next to the Camaro like he had just gotten out of it.
His eyes were wide, trailing from Steve, to Oliver, and back again.
“Is that my kid?” Billy’s hair was shorter than when he had left.
“Oliver. His name is Oliver.” Billy stepped around the car.
“Can I, can I see him?” Steve brought the stroller down the driveway, taking Oliver out of the stroller.
Billy held him like he was made of gold.
“He’s beautiful.”
“I think he looks a lot like you.” Billy smiled at him.
“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here, I was waiting for my semester to end.”
“It’s okay. I just, you know. Thought you deserved to know about him.” Billy stared at Oliver, his smile going soft as Oliver squealed, tugging on Billy’s hair.
“I want to be in his life. If that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. He’s your son too.” Billy brushed his thumb down Oliver’s nose.
“Thank you, Steve. And I’m, I’m sorry about how I left. I was going to-” he cut himself off, looking back at Oliver. “I was gonna ask you to come with me. Chickened out last minute.”
Steve’s heart was banging against his rips.
“I would’ve gone with you. Used to dream about running away with you.” Oliver started getting fussy, making disgruntled little huffs. Billy passed him back to Steve. “I was in love with you. You know that?”
“Yeah, I knew that. Was to chicken shit to do anything about it.” Billy was still looking at Oliver, the way he nestled into Steve’s neck. “He loves you a lot.”
“It’s been the two of us for awhile.”
“You’re a good dad. Always kinda figured you would be, though.” Billy took another breath. “You know, you could’ve told me sooner. I would’ve come back.”
“I don’t want you to, to change you life. Don’t quit school, or something.”
“Steve, I got a kid. I want to change my life for him. For, for you.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“No never did. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing my family.” Steve hesitated.
“Would you like to come in? Have some breakfast? You could give Oliver his bottle, If you wanted.” Billy’s eyes lit up.
“I’d like that.”
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poguesofthebau · 5 years ago
Note
Idea to write for OBX!!!! The pogues just having a good evening together, like playing truth or dare like 16 year olds before the events of the show take place!!
heyo all, writing is hard for me recently so i decided that i would do something based off what real life is like right now with a lil inspo from this request tossed in :) hope you like it!! (naturally, reader is dating jj in this bc i can’t help myself hehe oops)
summary: jj, y/n, and the rest of the pogues (including sarah) live in the world we’re all currently living in: quarantine. so what happens when the craziest friend group in the obx are trapped inside the Chateau for weeks at a time without any authority figures or outsiders? to put it simply, anarchy happens. (alternate summary: what i wish i was doing during this stupid quarantine instead of sitting in my room to avoid my parents’ hovering.) (alternate, simple summary: a hot ass day in quarantine with the pogues.) word count: 2101
sticky. why the hell were you sticky?
you opened your eyes with a deep groan, peeling yourself from jj with a disgusted look on your face. “jj, get off of me.” you’d both been laying on your stomachs as you slept, but the boy had somehow wound up directly on top of you. it would’ve been kind of endearing, cute almost, to wake up so close to jj, if it wasn’t so fucking hot.
someone across the room laughed lightly, and you slipped out from under jj and flipped onto your back, sitting up and squinting to see who it was. when you saw sarah, kie, and pope staring at you from the table a few feet away from the pull-out couch, you let out an annoyed puff of air, raking a hand through your bedhead to slightly calm it. leaning back on your hands, you glanced back down at your boyfriend. his nose was scrunched up, and his hand started rustling around the sheets until it made contact with your right calf. satisfied, his face relaxed again. before you could look back to your friends, pope was speaking. “i don’t know how the two of you managed to sleep like that all night. with those body temperatures combined, i’m pretty sure you should’ve burst into flames by like, 2am.”
“c’mon, pope,” sarah smirked. “they’re in love. their feelings for each other, they’re hotter than anything. like, hotter than--”
“hotter than the flames in hell!” kie interrupted proudly. “and the obx may feel like it’s hotter than that already, but--”
“nothing compares to their sacred, burning love.” sarah and kie both smiled smugly at their own ability to finish each other’s sentences, fist bumping as pope shook his head. “that was good. i love us.” the girls giggled again, and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.
“can you corny fucks shut the hell up? a guy can never get a wink of sleep around here, shit.” with that, jj was rolling over, too, a very unimpressed look plastered on his face as he scolded his friends. not as eager to be awake as you had been, jj groaned as he stretched, flopping into your lap on his back when he was finally done waking himself up. your hands naturally found their way to his hair, scratching at his scalp subconsciously as you looked around at the mess of the Chateau. “where’s jb at? and why is it so fucking hot in here?”
“you can’t really complain about body temps when you’re curled up in your girlfriend’s lap like a cat, bro,” pope pointed out. jj rolled his eyes as pope continued. “but since you asked so nicely, it’s the first heat wave of the year-- you’d know that if you ever listened to anything i say throughout the day. john b’s out trying to get food and water and stuff before it’s all gone.”
jj muttered something under his breath about wishing pope had gone out with their other friend as his eyes closed again at the feeling of your fingertips on his hairline. “you know what we should do today?”
“make out? at least let me brush my teeth first, you animal,” jj interjected. you flicked his nose, ignoring the comment otherwise. “oh, so you don’t wanna make out? alright, y/n, but just remember, it’s your rule!”
“jj, why does everything always have to be about you?”
“i have needs, kie!”
“okay, okay, okay, i think y/n had an idea. let the woman speak!” sarah quickly redirected.
“thank you,” you smiled pointedly at sarah. “i think-- and tell me if there are any objections-- i think, maybe, we should day-drink.”
as soon as the words left your mouth, the door beside you was swinging open with a creak, john b bursting into the room. “did someone say-- DAY-DRINK?” he held up a six pack of beer in each hand, that bright and proud john b grin plastered on his face. the entire group cheered, jumping up to help him bring in the groceries he’d gotten his hands on. “thanks to mr. c’s non-existent credit card limit, we are now loaded. thanks kie!” he tossed her dad’s card back on the table, the curly haired girl laughing at his words. kiara had somehow convinced her parents that spending her quarantine with the pogues at john b’s house was an acceptable idea, and they had even given her an emergency credit line for necessities and necessities only.
beer was an absolute need for the pogues, to be fair.
----
a few hours later, everyone was pretty day-drunk, so to speak.
sarah was currently engaged in a deep conversation with pope about why, exactly, he wanted to be a coroner so badly. you were in the middle of an arm-wrestling tournament against john b, with jj and kie passing the group’s second blunt of the afternoon back and forth. “y/n, your hand is fucking slippery!”
“fuck you, john b! it’s sweaty! haven’t you noticed that it’s a million damn degrees in this place?”
the arm wrestling tourney came to a close soon after, and the group went back to sweating, smoking, and throwing back beers. your feet wound up in jj’s lap as you tried to fan yourself with an empty, folded up cardboard box that one of the six-packs had come in. “hey kie, do you think your dad would mind if we used his credit card to buy a decent air conditioning system for this shithole? no offense, john b.”
“actually, y/n, i kind of take offense to that. just a little, you know?” you stuck your tongue out at your friend, throwing your piece of cardboard at him.
“you know, guys,” sarah spoke up. “me and my sister used to play this game--”
“oh, sarah, please tell me it’s not truth or dare with no dare.” john b’s face twisted into disapproval, and it was sarah’s turn to stick her tongue out at him.
“it is truth or dare with no dare, and i don’t hear any better ideas from anyone else, so we’re playing.”
jj’s hand came down on your ankle as he sat up and looked at the other blonde of the group. “actually, i’m thinking me and y/n will just roll another blunt and go hide in the guest room. that would be a better idea, i think.”
“no way, dumbass! if we have to do it, you two are sticking around for it too. pogues never abandon pogues, remember?” kie and her rules. “so, who starts?”
“well usually when i’ve played before it’s only been two people, so maybe i’ll ask the first question and we can all go around and answer?” jj groaned at this new development, causing you to smile. you flopped around on the futon a bit until your side was pressed against his, and he threw his arm around your shoulders once you’d settled. “okay, first question. um, let’s see... i don’t know. what’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?”
----
“weirdest place you’ve ever had sex. three, two, one, go!” jj pointed to john b, and the entire group erupted into laughter. john b was clearly struggling to think of an answer, and jj, who had become strangely invested in hour-long game, was running out of patience. “c’mon, man!”
“jesus christ, jj, i don’t know!” john b choked out through his laughs. “a bell tower, i guess?”
“great! sarah? where’ve ya done it, kook princess?” that one earned a smack on the arm from you, and jj quickly rephrased. “sorry! i meant, uh, where’ve ya-- i don’t know. just-- what’s your answer?”
sarah glanced between john b and jj, hesitating before she answered. “conveniently enough, my answer is also... a bell tower.”
with the ruckus that answer caused, you weren’t expecting the game to end any time soon.
----
“oh, my god. i finally don’t feel like i’m burning alive anymore.” pope threw his arms victoriously above his head as he made the statement, kie smiling at him and wrapping an arm around his waist.
“that’s how fucked the weather’s gonna be forever if humans don’t start taking care of the planet, pope. isn’t that crazy?” pope looked at her and nodded with a slightly terrified look in his eye, not finding the person kie became when drunk completely trustworthy to not flip out on him for his history of littering and excessive plastic use.
“you know, guys,” john b called out, quickly changing the subject. “this is kind of insane.”
“what do you mean, johnny boy? what’s so insane about a heat wave?” your head was pretty much buried in jj’s chest as you spoke, with his hands slowly tracing big circles in your back. the last blunt of the night had just been smoked, and it was hitting you both a little harder than the others had. for the past few minutes, you’d been thinking about you and jj finally making your way to the guest room for the more intimate one-on-one time that the weed had made you crave. as soon as he’d put the roach down, you’d crawled into his lap. the temperature had dropped reasonably, and the sticky feeling you’d experienced that morning was now completely out of the picture. your left hand was wrapped around jj’s neck, your right just hidden under his shirt as your thumb stroked back and forth just above his hip. jj had watched you nuzzle into that position through hooded red eyes with a little amused smile playing his lips, before returning the physical affection by sliding one hand reassuringly onto the back of your neck and letting the other draw shapes into your back.
by the time john b had finished gazing around lovingly at the group before answering, you had almost forgotten about having asked a question to begin with. “not the heat wave, y/n.” his correction reminded you of what the conversation had been, and your tilted your head up to make eye contact with jj. when you locked eyes, you knew jj was thinking the same thing as you: john b’s about to get corny and emotional. and you were both right. “seriously, look at us. isn’t this crazy?” you and jj smiled at each other, and you placed a loving kiss on his jawline before refocusing your sight on john b. “how did we all end up together? i mean, three losers who met in elementary school,” john b listed, looking to you and jj with a bright smile as you felt jj squeeze your neck lightly. “a weird kid who, for some reason, is totally obsessed with dead bodies and shit,” pope looked a john b awkwardly as kie giggled, slipping her hand into pope’s. “and a couple of fucking kooks.” sarah hummed from her spot next to john b, kie sarcastically saluting with her free hand. “you guys, somehow, we all got together, all found each other. what are the odds of that? what are the odds that we found this totally perfect, totally dysfunctional but perfect little family?”
before you could stop yourself, you felt the first tear slip down your face. “fuck you, john b,” you muttered quietly, taking your hand out from under jj’s shirt to swipe at the wetness on your face. scrubbing away the rest of the tears in your eyes before they could escape, you put your hand back down on jj’s arm this time.
“yeah, fuck you, john b. why you makin’ my girl cry, bro?” everyone chuckled softly, admiring each other in the moment. “alright, though, really. since she’s already crying, i guess i should say it now.” your head lifted back up to look at jj, and he looked back down at you as he continued. “i love you.” as you both broke into smiles, he looked back to your friends. “i love all of you guys. you’re all annoying as fuck, and i know i live for giving you all a hard time and stuff. but seriously. this is my family. pogues forever.”
“shit,” kie muttered this time, her thumb swiping under her own eyes as pope looked down at her adoringly. “pogues forever, guys. thank you for taking in us stupid kooks and letting us be who we are. pogues for-fucking-ever.”
“as corny as it sounds, i feel like we’re kind of required to group hug now,” pope added. “everybody up! i love you sickos and psychos, criminal records and all!”
and then, you all hugged the shit out of each other. pogue style.
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bizarre-alien · 4 years ago
Text
Saturday Morning
I made a short Erasermic fic on Saturday, and I just wanted to post this here because why not! It takes place when they were in their 20s, and Shota is gonna do something bold after a night of clubbing with Hizashi which, apparently, didn't turn out so well!
Saturday mornings were hard sometimes. Waking up hungover while my brain tries to recollect memories of last night only makes me numb with this dull melancholic ache in my chest. I stretched out my limbs across my bed to find that I was all alone. “Shocker.” I thought to myself sarcastically. I slowly turned my body over to get my phone that was on my nightstand. To my surprise, it was hooked up and charged. “No, I was too drunk to do something this responsible.” I mumbled as I unplugged it. There were some unread messages from Yamada, and it brought this warm feeling inside that my heart seemed to crave.
“Last night was WILD! Please text me when you wake up. I need to know you lived! 😭”
“I did lay you on your side with a bucket, pukey! 🤣”
“OMG ARE YOU ALIVE?? I MISS MY BEST FRIEND!”
“I should’ve just crashed on your couch instead of taking the cab back to my place… Could’ve saved myself from stress and money… LMAOOO”
“SHOOOOOOTAAAAAAAA”
I couldn’t help but to laugh at his sweet attentiveness. He never failed to put a smile on my face even if he wasn’t around. I took a selfie and sent it to him. “I lived, bitch. 😤”
I felt my stomach shock from anticipation as I saw the ellipsis pop up. “YOU LOOK GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH!!” The ellipsis came up again. “Also, you looked cuter than me in the shirt I let you wear. If you wanna keep it, you deserve it! I have your shirt, and it’s nice and clean! I think I’ll wear it today!”
I couldn’t help but to blush at his remark. “It’s mine now. I’ll take good care of it.” I looked down to see which shirt it was, and I gasped. It was an exclusive shirt from one of his favorite bands that he got at a live show. The exact one that he said he wanted to be buried in. “WAIT ARE YOU SURE BC I JUST SAW WHICH ONE IT WAS”
“It’s okay!! I’d rather see you wear it instead. 💖”
“... That’s very sweet…”
“How do I look? I’m going for that Shota Aizawa look. Don’t mind my lack of pants, please. 🥰🤣” His selfie nearly made me drown in affection. He looks so good in my shirt… And his legs...
“*Chef’s kiss* You rn…” Were we flirting, right now?? No. He has someone, right? “Wait… Are you flirting with me to make your so jealous? What did he do wrong, now? 🥴” The ellipsis came up, but went away… Then again… Then nothing. I began to worry. “Zashi, I’m playing. You know that, right?” The other end was radio silent, and I felt anxiety surge through me. Was it a sore topic and I didn’t know? Did I just ruin our friendship? I mean, how would that screw everything up? After all we’ve been through for the past 7 years, that couldn’t have been the final straw… right? I was pulled from my overthinking by my phone vibrating. It was Zashi calling, and I picked it up immediately. “Was that a bad thing to say? Because I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt-!”
“It’s okay, Sho!” He chuckled reassuringly to me, but I could hear the pain in his voice. “I forgot that you black out when you’re drunk… No, me and him are done. You broke his nose when I came to you crying about it. We had to leave the club because of all the drama, but no one knew who we were… Thank God, right?”
“Yeah…” I was silent for a moment as I tried to remember what happened.
“Sho! We’re leaving. Come on!” Hizashi roared as he made his way to me.
“Hold, hold, hold. What happened?” I stopped him in his tracks and grabbed his arms. “Zashi, are you okay? Where’s-?”
“Who cares? I hate him! Let’s go!”
“But you left me to blow him in the bathroom! What do you mean you hate him, now-?”
“I wish I didn’t, and I’m so sorry! He’s a monster in disguise, but I was too stupid to notice AGAIN!!” Zashi burst into tears as he held onto me tightly. We stumbled a bit, but I held him back with all I had. I feared that this was gonna happen.
“I knew there was a reason why I couldn’t stand him.”
“Baby, you got it all wrong! I love you, Hizashi! I wanna marry you!” I heard the voice of Zashi’s former lover, and the alcohol in me decided to take control of my body.
“You take another step, and you’ll regret it! Don’t think I won’t have you on the ground, you piece of garbage!”
“Sho, let’s just get out of here! I gotta go!” Hizashi pushed me towards the exit. “It’s not worth it!”
“Hizashi!” The moment he grabbed Hizashi’s arm, I went feral.
I dug my nails into his wrist to get him to let go of my best friend. “Piss off!” I roared as I got Hizashi behind me. Before I could register anything, I felt my right fist connect with his nose hard enough that it sent a shock up to my shoulder. “I knew you were trash the moment I laid eyes on you! You don’t deserve Zashi!” I wanted to go for more, but I felt a multitude of hands grasp at me and pull me towards the exit. I managed to spit on Zashi’s ex before we were escorted out of the club.
“Oh my God, Shota! That was intense!” Hizashi grabbed my shoulders and shook me. His makeup was smeared from his tears, but it made him look like an ethereal being. “You good?”
“Mmh.”
“I can’t believe you did that for me! You’re so sweet! Oh my gosh, like you- Oh, God!” He backed up as he looked at me again. “Alleyway. Alleyway!” He guided us to the alleyway and held my hair the moment I let everything out. “Oh, God. It’s on your shirt. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” When I spat out the remains, he gently took off my soiled shirt. “You are so lucky that I have on something sexy underneath this tee! I guess this may be a sign to dress sexy for myself instead of waiting for someone to see it in private, huh?” He pulled off his band tee and handed it to me with a smile. He had on a fishnet long sleeve bodysuit with nipple coverings, and he looked like the biggest rockstar in that moment… but, that was my best friend… My best friend is the biggest rockstar and he’s holding my gross shirt.
“You’re so freaking nice, Zashi!” I began to tear up as I put on the shirt. “I’m so sorry!”
“I should be sorry! I didn’t listen to you. I just listened to his dick!” We laughed like a couple of hyenas as we took our drunken selves to our favorite place to eat when we drank our weight in booze.
“Zashi." I sighed and shook my head. "I’m so sorry."
“Thanks. It hurts, you know? He wasn’t who I thought he was. I guess… I don’t know how to pick ‘em, huh?” He tried to laugh, but he went quiet.
Never in my life did I want to reach out to him through the phone and hug him as much as I do now, but all I could do was hug him with my words. “You have a big heart and a warm presence that deserves to be honored and cherished, and he just didn’t get it. If I had the chance, I’d punch him again. You deserve so much better, and you will get that.”
“When, Shota?” There was a pause.
“When the time and place is right.” I wanted to say right now and with me, but I chickened out. “That person will love you and nurture your heart, and that person will be the most lucky human in all existence and memory.”
“I wish it were-” He paused and sighed. “I wish it happened now.”
I felt my heart jump and my mind started to race. Did he want me? Should I risk it all? Were we both too afraid of screwing up our friendship? “Hizashi…”
“Hey, do you mind if we meet up somewhere? Your place, my place, a restaurant… Anywhere, honestly! I just need to see you. Sorry if that sounds clingy. I just-”
“Of course! I would love to meet up. You’re going through a tough situation, and I’m more than happy to be there for you.” I smiled. “You can come over to my place and we can decide if we wanna go out or not.”
“That sounds good. I’ll get coffee on the way, okay? I know you need it.” He chuckled.
“You’re the best.” I sighed in relief. “I think coffee would solve a lot of problems, right now.”
“Hey, Shota?”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to know how much I value our friendship. We had rocky moments, but there isn’t a day that I’m not grateful that we smoothed things out. I can freely be myself around you, and that’s really rare nowadays because all these fakes are roaming the streets.”
“It doesn’t help that you’re well known, huh?” I joked.
“Exactly! You keep me from losing my mind… You inspire me, you encourage me, and I know I can be vulnerable with you and you wouldn't judge me for it! I just really love- Ugh... No, I should stop. I’m getting sappy.” He burst into laughter.
“Funny enough, I needed to hear that.” I blushed and rubbed that back of my neck. “Hizashi, I actually wanna talk to you about something when you get here. It’s important to me, so that’s why I wanna wait.”
“Oh, for real? I’m not in trouble, am I?”
He was so cute. “No, not at all!” I snorted.
“Good! Give me a few minutes, okay? I’ll be there in a bit.”
“In Hizashi minutes, right? I'm guessing that it'll be an hour before you get here.”
“Shut up, man! I can’t help the fact that I’m a high maintenance scatterbrain!” He whined on the other line.
“Whatever. Just get here when you get here. You know where the spare key is, so I’m gonna take a shower and clean up the place a bit.”
“Sounds good!”
“Okay, cool. See you then.”
“See you!” He sang then hung up.
I looked at my phone with a whirlwind of emotions. The comfort of his voice still in my heart, but it wrestled with the anxiety that I felt in my chest as I knew what I set myself up for. The timing seems wrong, but I was so caught up that I could care less. What if he hates me for even confessing now? Yet again, it seemed that he was dying for me to confess… I just know that this is the last Saturday morning I wanted to spend hungover by myself. I wanted to wake up to messy blond hair in my mouth, limbs entangled, and the sweet smell of his natural scent mixed with the ghost of his perfume of choice from the night before.
The feeling was so strong that I clutched my pillow for dear life, and I couldn’t tell what kind of tears were falling from my eyes. All I could do is lay there and imagine what could possibly become a reality while also fear that I could make this imagery impossible if I said the wrong things. Funny enough, this hurricane of emotion is something that I’m just observing. Somewhere deep in my core, I felt a sense of relief and peace. And it was that very peace that gave me the strength to get up and get ready for a life changing discussion with my best friend.
Thank you! Bye!
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kyber-crystal · 4 years ago
Text
A-Z List of Fluff
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: An alphabetic list of yours and Steve’s dynamic relationship. 
Warnings: none, mainly just fluff and very very slight mentions of violence but that’s it :)
A/N: I combined these prompts from multiple people, so credits to all of them <3 @goldenhour-goldenboy​ . this is a friends to lovers trope :) Some letters are repeated. bcI wanted to add in an extra concept. This is prolly gonna flop bc its not a traditional oneshot, but I wanted to publish something for y’all while I’m editing my WIPs
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A= Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)
Steve loves everything about you, but the two things that really drew him to you was your smile and compassion. Your smile and laugh were extremely infectious - nobody could stay mad for long when you were cracking a grin. Despite having been through hell in the past: overcoming many hardships and enduring countless difficult wars, you managed to find it in your heart to keep faith in humanity and always held your head up high no matter what. You were always respectful and kind to everyone around you, and he greatly admired that.
B= Best memory (What is the best memory they have with you?)
One weekend after a particularly rough mission in Eastern Europe, Fury forced the Avengers on a team vacation to Bora Bora for two weeks. During that time, you and Steve had grown extremely close - taking daily sunset walks, surfing together, and swimming with dolphins. It was a jam-packed fourteen days to remember. He loved seeing you genuinely happy as you got to relax.
C= Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)
You’d moved in to DC together after the Battle of New York, and often times you spent evenings on the couch eating takeout while wrapped up in each others’ arms, so cuddling is almost second nature for him. He’ll come up behind you on nights you’re in charge of cooking for the team, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as you prepared dinner. He loves to cuddle and he’s built perfectly for them. His muscular figure and warm arms make the best cuddles. Sometimes, he’ll randomly come into your room in the middle of the night and snuggle up against you. You’ll wake up in the morning to see him holding you tightly like a koala, an arm draped protectively around your torso and his legs entangled with yours. The team likes to tease you about your close-knit relationship and as in love with him as you were with each other, you kept trying to deny it in fears of those feelings not being returned. 
D= Dreams (What do they want to do in life?)
Steve is a very determined and headstrong man, with the desire to fight for his country and its citizens having been ingrained in the back of his head since he was a mere teenager. He doesn’t know when he’ll retire and give up the title of Captain America, but for the time being, he wants to keep doing what he’s doing. He loves his job and his teammates - he wouldn’t trade them for the world. But he knows he’d like to marry you and start a family with you someday.
E= Everything (You are my ___ (e.g my life, my world…))
“You are my infinity.”
F= Feelings (When did they know they were falling in love?)
You were on a quad mission with him, Sam, Bucky, and Wanda to take down a Hydra base stationed in northern Serbia. Steve was stuck in a fistfight with one of the agents and you could see another approaching from behind to ambush him, and you knew if you didn’t step up and do something, that he would die. So without a moment’s hesitation you ran into the crossfire, taking the bullet that was meant for him, straight to your stomach.
As upset as he was with you for getting injured, he couldn’t help the feeling of pride and awe in his chest at your unwavering willingness to lay your life on the line for those you loved; your selflessness. 
And he knew in that moment, he’d fallen for you, and fallen hard.
G= Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)
Steve’s naturally a gentle person (though he’s an absolute beast on the battlefield, with those skills of his) and everyone on the team can clearly see he has a big soft spot for you. He’s always extremely gentle and very polite: holding the door open for you, putting his hand out in front of the elevator doors so you can step in, and makes sure not to squish you too tightly because his bear hugs can be quite strong. Essentially, the man is a giant puppy.
H= Hand/Hold (How do they like to hold? How do they like to hold hands?)
He absolutely loves holding hands. It’s been a frequent habit of his - both platonic and non-platonic. He’ll take your hand in his and intertwine your fingers together, and when he senses that you’re anxious about a situation, he’ll begin rubbing circles across your palm to calm you down. Like always, the team goes nuts whenever you two do so much as make eye contact, because you’re acting like a couple but aren’t doing anything about it.
I= Impression (First Impression)
From the moment you first met, you and Steve were attached at the hip. Having been 27 when he came out of the ice, and you being just a couple years behind him at 24, you were assigned to help him adjust. He remembers seeing you walk in with your radiant smile and your head held high, greeting him politely. He particularly liked how patient you were with him, taking him around the city and updating him on all there was to know, answering all his questions. By the time you both joined the Avengers Initiative, and the Battle of New York came and went, you were practically inseparable.
I= I love you (Who says it first?)
Steve does. You’re already very comfortable around one another that he doesn’t think before saying it. It was so out of the blue when it happened - you were in charge of dinner for the team one night when he came and kissed your cheek as a thank-you, saying a quick “I love you, darling,” before sitting down between Natasha and Sam, who looked just as shocked as you did. 
“So are you guys dating or what?” Bucky questioned. 
“No,” you and Steve replied in unison, though your cheeks were both bright red.
J= Joker (Are they into pranks?)
He’s not a huge prankster like Loki and Sam, but occasionally he’ll walk up behind you and whisper ‘Boo!” into your ear, making you jump and scream lightly, whacking him in the shoulder from shock. But you realize it’s just him, not someone else - and quickly burst into laughter. It’s impossible for you to get mad at America’s golden boy.
K= Kisses (How do they kiss?)
Contrary to your initial belief, he doesn’t mind PDA at all. You would often joke around about people mistaking you two as a couple because of how close you were. You’d greet each other in the morning with a kiss on the cheek (earning snickers from Bucky and Sam), and he’d say goodnight by kissing you lightly on the forehead.
His kisses are very gentle and wholehearted, yet filled with passion at the same time. You can almost never get enough.
Your first kiss wasn’t how you thought it’d be at all. It was on a Costco grocery run one Sunday afternoon when you were trying to reach up to one of the higher racks to grab something, struggling on your tiptoes. He offered to help you and as he pulled the item down, you’d grown rather close, literally - with your lips being just a few centimeters apart. Oh, screw it, he thought to himself, placing a hand on the small of your back and pulling you to him, pressing his lips to yours. 
L= Little Things (What little things do they love/notice.)
Steve notices that whenever you’re extremely focused on something, you bite your bottom lip and an adorable little crease between your brows appears. He always likes to tease you about it.
M= Moment (Their favorite moment.)
Getting caught under the mistletoe at Tony’s party. As cheesy as it sounded, it was your guys’ favorite moment together. When his eyes landed on you in your shimmery gown, his heart began to race. You were the literal definition of a dream, perfection. And when he finally kissed you it felt like fireworks were going off in his chest, electricity shooting through his body as your lips met. It was only your second official kiss but everything about it felt so real, so true, so right - that he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
N= Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)
Steve doesn’t normally go way over-the-top when it comes to gifts, but whenever it’s a major holiday or your birthday, he goes all-out. He’s a very good listener, so he’ll take note of the things you like that come up in conversation and take notes later, and will buy you those exact things. He loves seeing your face light up as you receieve his gifts - that’s when he knew he loved giving more than getting. 
O= Orange (What color reminds them of their other half?)
Red. You’re bright-spirited and confident and kindhearted all at the same time, and not to mention powerful - just like the color itself. He can’t help but notice how good you look whenever you wear red - especially in your stealth suit with its’ burgundy highlights. He has to be paired up with Bucky all the time on missions so he wouldn’t get hurt while he was distracted with watching you fight.
P= Pet names (What pet names do they use?)
Sweetheart, love, darling, doll, honey, etc. <3 (and once again, the team is frustrated because you’re acting like a couple but haven’t even started dating)
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Steve naturally has a better-than-average memory, but he remembers much more about you than the rest of the team does. He knows your birthday, your favorite color, your likes and dislikes, and every little detail. He remembers all the little things. He can’t help but remember everything when he’s so in love with you. And when he brings this up into conversation, it makes you fall even harder for him.
R= Rainy Days (How does he/she comfort them on dark days?)
You don’t have to tell Steve directly for him to be able to tell when something’s wrong. He knows you like the back of his hand, a skill nobody else on the team had. When you’re rather quiet after a rough mission or just feeling down in the dumps, he doesn’t talk, doesn’t ask any intrusive questions (he knows you hate it when people do that), and just pulls you into a warm embrace and holds you until you feel better. And usually, that’s all that’s needed to lift your spirits.
S= Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush.)
When he called you by a pet name for the first time. It was in the middle of an intense sparring match together in the boxing ring, the team eagerly watching from the sidelines as you circled each other. “You’re tough, but you’re gonna have to try harder than that, sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear. You froze, taken aback, and in that moment of hesitation he whipped around and put you into a firm headlock. 
“The tension is through the roof here, I swear to Odin’s beard,” Sam groaned. “Just date already.”
S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Steve is extremely protective of you. He’ll make sure to walk on the outside when you’re walking down the sidewalk together because as he insisted to you, “your safety is my number one priority”, often pairs up with you on missions to look out after you and if not, constantly checks in via comms to make sure you’re alright. With the way he’s constantly hovering over you, the team likes to tease him for acting like a worried boyfriend or husband. 
T= Talking (What do they love to talk about?)
Anything and everything that comes to mind, whether that be old memories together, favorite memories with the team, your childhoods, or what was on the news that day. You could go on talking for hours at a time - in fact, there were many occasions in which you stayed up all night together, sitting around on the sofas in the lounge with mugs of hot chocolate in hand and the fireplace on, warming your bodies as you spoke.
U= Universe (Use a metaphor, what are they to each other? (e.g he was the universe, ever-changing and mysterious.))
Before you became an Avenger, you were one of twenty-eight dancer-trained enhanced assassins of the Red Room Academy alongside Natasha. A doubtful fighter, you, along with Natasha, were taken under Tony’s wing to further your training with SHIELD. Before becoming an Avenger, your life was a mess. You lost your family at a young age, torn away from the life you’d known as a little girl, forced to grow up too fast. So meeting Steve was like taking a breath of fresh air. He was your safe haven. He was a life raft and you were lost at sea, his presence serving as a reminder that you were in fact, still sane and not just drifting mindlessly through space.
V = Vaunt. (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)
Obviously, his strength and speed. He purposely lifts heavier weights in front of you while you’re training in the gym with him. “It’s arm day today,” he’d whisper, sending you a flirty wink as he flexed his biceps. You blushed. Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes.
W= Why (Reasons why they love you.)
There are so many reasons for him to love you. One, you give him a sense of peace and happiness, of home. You were his home. He felt like he could trust you with anything, as you were very easy to talk to. Steve loves how he could just be himself around you, as well as your competitive nature - that’s why he always asks you to go on his morning runs with him. And he loves your kind heart. You’ve seen and experienced far more war, more bloodshed and violence than anyone should have to experience in ten lifetimes, and still, forced yourself to be kind and gentle, to soften your heart. He loves you with his whole heart and soul and wouldn’t trade you for the world.
X= Xylophone (What’s their song?)
Electric Love by Børns. After a nice dinner at Olive Garden together one Friday night, you decided to go on a little late night drive throughout the city. With the windows of the Audi rolled down, the wind in your hair as your face lit up and you grinned from ear to ear, you both sang at the top of your lungs as you made your way through busy New York. He fell in love with you even more, if that was even possible.
Y= Youtube (What are they like online? Do they post about their relationship constantly?)
After several days of you pushing him to get Instagram, he finally made an account (quickly catching up to your 30-point-something million followers). He loves to post about you and your adventures outside of missions together and whenever he does, his followers go absolutely crazy. 
Z= Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)
An adorable mixed breed. You’re both left with cleared schedules on one Monday morning after breakfast, so you decide to head out to the shelter. There’s one dog that stands out to him above the rest, and as soon as he sees them come running up to you and jumping around you, he knows that’s the one. You settle on the name Dodger and take it home. The entire team spoils him to death.
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heirloommtomatoes · 5 years ago
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you’re in a car with a beautiful boy
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I’m at least 90% sure this ask was not sent with the intent of receiving a fic as a response but. Here we are. This got way longer and more convoluted than I had intended it to be and I’m jus gonna post it at this point bc i’m losing my mind re-reading it jsksk ! The title is from part 24 of Richard Siken’s poem “You Are Jeff”. Perfect poem for their first kiss, I think! Enjoy reading! :)
Warnings: Two instances of canon-typical homophobic language; canon-typical swearing.
Word Count: 2.6k~
The day Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, red-cheeked, out of breath, and wanting, no — “I need to see you” — needing him, Mickey knows he’s done for.
What comes out is: “I thought you were working today.”
Nice, dumbshit, that’s helpful, he registers the thought somewhere in the back of his mind, but mostly he just can’t stop staring at Ian. His eyes flick over his face, and he doesn’t have time to be shocked by how much he cares.
He’s embarrassed to reveal that yes, he did memorize Ian’s work schedule because he was in fact listening to the guy when he was busy running his mouth at the convenience store. Instinctively, he casts a quick glance over his shoulder. He can’t let Terry see this gay shit, Ian all worked up about some mommy issues and Mickey trying in his own way. To do what exactly, he’s still not completely sure. Comfort him, maybe? He doubts his father would clue in, his head’s too far up his homophobic ass for that, but like hell Mickey’s gonna risk it. Nothing’s gonna touch Ian. Fucking ever, if it’s up to him.
“I’ll meet you there in twenty,” Mickey says a short while later. He closes the door and goes back inside to stand around the dining table where Terry was going over some kind of raid or bust or heist while somehow managing to boss Mandy around every other word.
Mickey can’t focus on anything. He’s going to see Ian in twenty minutes. He’s bubbling with palpable excitement and fear and feelings he has no name for. What if Ian wants to talk about everything? Does he smell bad? What could Mickey say so he doesn’t leave? So Ian doesn’t see what a miserable shit he is? He hates Ian fucking Gallagher for making him care about dumb stuff like this, for making him incapable of hearing a word his Dad is saying to him and his brothers, for making him want to do some astronomically stupid thing like kiss him.
“Mickey, why you over there starin’ like some dumb fuckin’ fag?”
He doesn’t work up the courage for over another year.
Mickey slams the door to his room after running errands with Iggy all morning. It smells stale and one of the posters is curling off the wall in the mid-summer humidity. He’d changed his sheets this morning. The same red ones from the day Ian had burst in here like a maniac demanding the gun back. From then on, the two had been inseparable; no matter how hard their South Side circumstances had tried to pry them apart, every time they came back together like magnets.
Mickey knows he can’t really hide from Ian, and it scares him as much as it excites him. Ian reads him like no one ever has. The guy even had the nerve to smile that adorable smile that makes Mickey’s chest tight when he’d told him he’d rip his tongue out back in juvie. For some reason that Mickey cannot begin to fathom, Ian seems to want to spend time with him. Seems to believe in him.
He had thought himself perfectly fine to live a life half-awake, to spend his days either in prison or in the Milkovich household (one in the same, he thinks - except that juvie doesn’t have Terry), probably die by shivs or bullets or fists, and have his body buried in some unmarked grave all before his 50th birthday. Ian had wedged his place in the timeline of Mickey’s life. There was a before, and an after, and neither of them would ever be the same. Mickey pretends that its not this thought that keeps him up at night.
As soon as he realized that Iggy and Colin and Terry looked at girls and actually wanted them, that it wasn’t just some bizarre social act they all bought into, he knew he was fucked for life. His whole existence feels like some grand joke that everyone is in on but him, and when he lays down at night and stares at his ceiling and thinks about Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, he wonders if maybe he was the butt of it all along.
Ian Gallagher, who knew him and wanted him anyway, who took the time to care about him, who sought him out to spend time with him just because he wanted to. When had their ten minute fucks turned into smoke breaks? When had their smoke breaks turned into —
Mickey’s phone dings in his pocket as he sits on the steps of the Milkovich house, a cigarette dangling idly from his mouth.
Ian
what are ur plans today
He swallows his heart back down as it leaps into his throat, almost dizzying him with excitement. Get a grip, you fuckin’ girl. He’d done all that he needed to do for the day. He’d helped Iggy with some errands in the morning and had planned on laying low, playing Halo 3, and chain-smoking his way through a pack until dinner.
He chews on his lip as he considers what to say. He texts back:
Mickey
don’t have any
He wants to say “why, what’s up?”, he wants to say “let’s go to the dugouts”, he wants to say “let’s do something”, “let’s hang out”, “i want to see you”, “i want you”. But he’s not allowed to want things. Certainly not…this. Whatever this is. He receives a response almost immediately and can’t help but crack a fond smile. Someone’s eager.
Ian
come with me to that abandoned building near the L
you know the spot
That’s how Mickey finds himself sitting atop a wooden platform, watching Ian run military drills below at 1 in the afternoon on a Sunday.
He fires his gun into the sky while resolutely pretending not to be checking out the younger boy below.
“Hey,” Ian says, breathing heavily and squinting against the sun and Mickey finds himself realizing he is made of things he cannot ever have, “You know that guy you beat the shit out of at that club?”
Of course Mickey remembers. His stomach flops at the mention of him.
“He wants me to sneak into his mansion and take all of his crap.”
“Really,” Mickey responds dryly, firing off another shot. He doesn’t want Ian to keep talking about him, “Hi-larious.”
“Can’t get it himself,” Ian continues, as if Mickey cares. And the worst part is that he thinks maybe he does — he cares about everything this alien-looking ginger has to say and he hates it and he can never, ever get enough of it, of him, of Ian, “Divorce. Says I can take whatever I want. He’s loaded. You want in?”
Mickey fires shots at the ground by Ian’s head where he’s crawling under some boards. He’s remembering seeing them at that bar in Boystown, out in the heat and in the sun and in public, cracking jokes and living a life Mickey can only watch from behind glass, from behind bars. Fuck that old guy for getting handed on a silver platter what Mickey so desperately craves but cannot have. Not just Ian — freedom. Though Mickey thinks they’re one in the same these days.
“Jesus! Use blanks, maybe?! Fuck.” Ian shouts up at him, dragging himself up off the ground.
“Bring my cousins?” Mickey asks, refusing to look at him. Every time he does he sees them together and wishes that it had been him, sun-drunk and laughing and free by his side.
“Yeah,” Ian shrugs.
“‘Aight, I’m in,” Mickey fires off another shot. He’s angry at Ian for nothing other than exercising his complete right to see other people since they weren’t really together anyway, he’s angry at that old ass man for being able to go out for drinks with him, touch him, kiss him, and most of all he’s angry at himself.
He feels broken for wanting him. He feels broken for not being able to be brave enough to admit that he wants him. He gets cut on his own self-hatred any direction he turns.
“I dunno what you see in that geriatric viagroid,” he says, forcing himself to meet Ian’s gaze, if for a brief moment.
“He buys me stuff, orders me room service,” Ian says nonchalantly, looking up at Mickey. It’s obvious how much he’s been working out. His shoulders are hard and defined, his chest chiseled through the dark green of his military shirt. Mickey feels the familiar sting of contempt rising in his throat and fires off two more shots.
He can’t buy him anything, let alone room service. The fuck kind of response is that? More than anything, it annoys Mickey because he knows it isn’t really true. He’s bullshitting him, and that gets to him more than Ted or Ned or Fred or whatever the hell is name is ever could. He knows he’s not that superficial. Sure, he doesn’t doubt those are nice bonuses, but he knows there’s more to it than that.
He knows Ian. He knows Ian and he wishes that didn’t have to mean he loves him, but it does. He doesn’t understand how anyone could know Ian and not love him. But he’s not quite ready to admit that yet, least of all to himself.
“He isn’t afraid to kiss me,” Ian adds.
Ah. There it is.
His world has become a breathing thing with Ian in it. Before it was stagnant, stale, drowning. It has become a beast with teeth that threatens to tear him from the careful scaffolding he has built around the most fragile parts of his life.
If he kisses him, then everything he fears he is will be true.
Some dumb fuckin’ fag.
So Mickey brings his cousins later that evening and doesn’t stop thinking about Ian’s comment for the rest of the day. The van ride is full of loud music and rolled down windows that let in the warm, fresh summer air, and Iggy and Colin are endlessly bickering and hitting each other in the back of the car.
“Can you assholes quiet down when we get closer? You’re gonna wake up the old lady and everyone else in the goddamn neighbourhood before we even roll in the fuckin’ driveway,” Mickey says, swatting at them from where he’s sitting in the passenger seat. Ian glances his way with an amused smile that Mickey only just catches when he settles back. He grins in return around the cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“Oh hey, pass one?” Ian asks, holding out his hand. Mickey’s about to give him one before a car speeds around a corner and almost T-bones the side of the van. Ian’s hand snaps back to the wheel to swerve out of the way, and Mickey drops the cigarette to the floor of the van in all the commotion.
“Asshole, watch it!” Ian exclaims as he uselessly flips off the car that’s now long gone down the road. Mickey lets out a guffaw of a laugh and abandons handing him the lost cigarette in favour of placing his own half-smoked one right between Ian’s lips.
The intimacy of the action doesn’t strike him until he’s nudging the cigarette against his mouth and his eyes are tracing the outline of his lips and he can feel the warmth of his breath against his tattooed knuckles. The raw familiarity of the action and the fact that Mickey’s own lips had just been on the cigarette that’s now resting on the edge of Ian’s mouth has his heart racing so quickly he can feel it in his chest like a ton of bricks. Ian casts him a side-glance out of the corner of his eye as he parts his lips to accept it. Mickey takes his hand away and clears his throat, glancing at the rear-view mirror to an oblivious Colin and Iggy.
“Thanks,” Ian mumbles, remembering himself as he snaps out of whatever it had been that passed between them just now.
Mickey wants to kiss him. He really, really wants to kiss him. He’d tried fucking girls and had been less turned on than he was just now doing nothing other than placing his cigarette in Ian’s mouth.
Ian pulls into the drive minutes later, cigarette since burned through and discarded out the window. Mickey tries not to feel the absence of it as though it were his own lips against his and not just the ghost of them stained onto the cigarette.
Colin drags open the side door and hops out with Iggy, zipping open a duffel bag full of guns. Mickey’s grateful for the distraction, for the absolute focus violence requires that he hopes will shove his desire to do something as stupid as kiss Ian out of his head.
“Hey! Whoa, guys, guys! No fucking guns, alright? It’s just a drunk old lady in there,” Ian says, brow furrowed as he looks at Mickey.
Trust Gallagher to be the defender of drunk old ladies. Mickey bites at his lip, trying and failing to ignore the way his chest swells with adoration at Ian’s request. Soft motherfucker. He’s right, though — any unnecessary violence and this could be a way bigger deal than it needs to be. Plus, he’d rather not piss off his only and best friend. He grabs the guns back from his cousins, much to their disappointment, and makes off toward the house.
He hadn’t woken up this morning thinking that today would be the day he’d kiss Ian. Hell, even now he’s sure that if he thinks about it any more he’ll chicken out and never kiss him at all. Mickey Milkovich, with the F-U-C-K U-U-P knuckles, who wears dirt and a scowl like they’re permanent accessories, is going to kiss Ian Gallagher, the freckled boy who protects drunk old ladies and smiles at him like he hangs the damn stars. He figures he was about to storm into an old lady’s house brandishing firearms without second thought or fright. Is kissing someone really that much more terrifying?
Abso-fuckin-lutely.
But there’s nothing between them but the van and Mickey’s fear. And fuck the fear. Fuck it. 
He can pretend that he kisses him for no other reason than to prove a point, than to fulfill some implied dare. 
At the end of the day, he kisses him because he wants to. 
He kisses him because he likes him. 
He kisses him because he loves him.
Mickey’s heart is racing so badly he feels that he might throw up and well, what an impression that would leave. Every part of him is shaking as he turns and takes one step, two steps, pulls himself into the van and…
His lips are against Ian’s. They’re so much softer than he’d imagined (and he had imagined, often) and warm and Mickey can feel the breath from his nose against his own face. He tastes like smoke and freedom and something sweet Mickey can’t place -- a fucking Snickers bar? -- but loves the taste of anyway.
His brain short-circuits. He lingers longer than he had intended to, but it’s real and it’s better than he ever thought it could be. He’d kissed Sarah Perkins on a dare back in 7th grade and he’d gargled vodka afterwards to wash his mouth out.
He’d thought himself broken for it just not feeling right. But this…this feels right. Ian makes him feel right. He had expected, hoped even maybe, that it would feel wrong. That he would kiss him and feel as though he had done something terrible, something worse than stealing from an old lady’s home, but if it does he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.
On his tongue, in his touch, with his laugh, Ian has given him the vocabulary to understand himself. To put a name to feelings mostly only understood in the illuminating glory of hindsight.
He’s spent his whole life outside of himself. Is this what it is to know yourself? Is this what it is for everything to suddenly make sense? He isn’t allowed soft things. He isn’t allowed this.
But here he is anyway.
And the world spins on.
He wants to kiss him again and again and again but he remembers his cousins in the house and what he suspects was probably less than five seconds feels like an eternity and Ian’s lips are starting to respond and move and is that his hand starting to lift to touch him? oh shit what if they come back to get him and this is what they walk in on and --
He pulls back and retreats as quickly as he’d arrived, throwing up a middle finger at Ian. Afraid to kiss him, Mickey’s ass.
Fuck he thinks as he runs back to the house, and can’t think much else but fuckfuckfuck, every inch of him charged and shaking and electric.
“Forgot somethin’,” he says breathlessly to the two boys who are, as it turns out, barely paying him any mind as they bicker between themselves about how they’re going to manage picking up a cabinet heavier than the two of them combined. Mickey’s not listening to them as they end up dropping it to split up and tackle smaller bait.
He grins wickedly to himself. He did it. Mickey goddamn Milkovich made a choice that wasn’t about pain or hurt or violence. He’d made a choice that was his and his alone and it was soft. Mickey Milkovich could choose to be soft, and gentle, and maybe even caring.
And if he can kiss Ian Gallagher? He can do anything.
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gerrystamour · 4 years ago
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the bittersweet between my teeth, Chapter 6
Written by: GerryStAmour | Gift for: @northisnotup​
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Some Important Notes:
I choose to believe that anything is possible in the future and that includes ridiculously quick turnaround times after near-death and also Getting Sexy New Teef bc I personally find it really hot.
The smut is only available on AO3! Link is in my pinned post! There is nothing in the smutty parts that is plot heavy, so you aren’t “missing” anything that isn’t covered in the PG-13 parts.
Nureyev is a gender euphoric trans man, as in he does not experience any dysphoria, and has not hat top-surgery, and he does not wear a binder. I use a mix of typically masculine and feminine terminology for his anatomy, particularly his genitalia, as I do for my own body as a transmasc individual.
Nureyev is never depicted with dysphoria in my fics, or having discomfort with his body because describing such a thing with a character I deeply identify with will trigger discomfort in my own body, etc.
Chapter Six [Previous Chapter][First Chapter]
- - - - - Nureyev’s POV - - - - -
Nureyev woke up slowly, his entire body feeling heavy and fatigued with a dull pain in his back and across his stomach, along with lesser pains all over his body. He swallowed and grimaced at the sensation of bandages across his throat.
The memories of the heist were slow to return to him. He could remember the sewers before entering, remembered getting to the vault and collecting the weapons. Then Nureyev remembered the Piranha, Juno coming to rescue him and the slice of pain as the knife plunged between his ribs. He remembered only flashes of their desperate escape, mostly just perfect, stupid, noble Juno refusing to leave him behind, even after discovering the wound.
Straining a bit, he could remember the sewers, laying on the ground while Juno was on his comms, panicked and pleading. The memory of Juno’s outrage at the thought of Nureyev—a thief, a murderer, a nameless criminal, a wanted terrorist—dying in a gutter like he deserved, his conviction that he wouldn’t…
 “I love you, Nureyev.”
Jolting at the memory, Nureyev found himself properly awake and looking around for his beautiful detective.
Dread settled in his gut as Nureyev noticed multiple things at once. First, Juno was not anywhere to be seen. Second, he was in a hospital room, which did not bode well. Third, he had no glasses, which made it difficult to get an accurate impression on his situation.
The room he was in appeared to be either rundown or unfinished. The bed he was on felt new, however, so he was inclined to assume the latter. Swallowing thickly, he realized just how dry his throat was and looked around again.
He startled when he realized that someone had actually been sitting beside him, and Nureyev wondered how strong of painkillers he was on were. At first, with how groggy he felt and how fuzzy his vision was, he thought it was Juno, but quickly realized it was Benten.
Benten was reading a book but looked up as Nureyev moved around. He snorted a bit before standing to hand Nureyev a pair of glasses.
“Juno grabbed those for you from your hotel room,” he explained as Nureyev put the glasses on, adding, “He paid for a reservation extension, by the way.”
Nureyev attempted to thank Benten, but only a croak came out. When Benten handed him a water bottle and a straw, he nodded gratefully and took long sips. With his throat soothed a bit, Nureyev tried again and asked, “Where’s Juno?”
Benten stared at him, his expression stony before he sucked his teeth and said, “Taking care of whatever you idiots stole.”
“Ah, right,” Nureyev said with a nod, leaning back and trying not to feel disappointed. That was the smart thing to do, and Nureyev knew it. But waking up, remembering the panicked confessions, and not seeing the lady himself… “That’s good, then.”
“Don’t be too upset, Rex. He was here day and night until you were given the all-clear,” Benten said blandly at Nureyev’s sulking. “It would have been romantic, but he’s my brother, so it’s gross.”
“I’m sure,” Nureyev said with a laugh, looking around again now that he could see. Sure enough, the room he was in was unfinished, with most of the equipment missing and wires hanging from where there would someday be cameras.
“Okay, you know what? No,” Benten burst out, startling Nureyev out of his thoughts abruptly. When Nureyev looked back at him, Benten was glaring at him. “It wouldn’t’ve been romantic, because what you two did was  stupid  , and  reckless  , and so far beyond selfish, even  I  am disgusted with it.”
“Pardon?” Nureyev questioned, bewildered. “We were stopping—”
“Yeah, yeah, you were saving the world,  whatever ,” Benten snapped, and it was at that moment that Nureyev realized there were tears in his eyes. “I’m just a little sick of hauling my brother out of gutters, covered in blood. And worse, you two  and Rita hid it from me!”
“Benzaiten,” Nureyev started, but he quickly closed his mouth when he realized that nothing he could have said would be helpful.
“Like, fuck,” Benten said with a heavy sigh as he slumped back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “When Juno told us to open without him, and Rita was jumpy all day and then you didn’t show, my first thought was you two dumb saps eloped—”
Nureyev actually choked a bit, blushing deeply. “I didnʼt— We wouldnʼt—”
“—That was literally my worst-case scenario, you know that, Rex? Then Juno’s call happened, and then…” Benten trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Nureyev in the bed before he pouted at the wall next to him.
“Benzaiten, I’m— There’s nothing I can say that can make up for what we did, but I am sorry,” Nureyev said slowly, carefully, and he barely refrained from flinching when Benten looked at him sharply out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, I know you are,” Benten said sternly, heaving a huge sigh. “Still mad as hell, though.”
“Of course,” Nureyev said with a nod before asking, “So, what happened after I passed out?”
Benten shrugged before saying, “Rita and I closed the cafe early, raced over, you were…  bad , and Juno was…”
When he trailed off again, Nureyev remembered the hysterical edge to Juno’s voice just before he faded completely, and nodded.
“I called Mick, since he’s a security guard here, and he pulled some strings to get you up here,” Benten continued after a moment. “No cameras, and no records at all. Juno threw a ton of creds at the doctors and nurses. Rita’s checking constantly to make sure they keep their end of the deal.”
“Thank you,” Nureyev said after a bit, raising an eyebrow.
“It was Rita’s idea, mostly,” Benten said with a shrug of his shoulders and an eye-roll. “She heard you say ‘no hospitals’ like one of those ridiculous characters from her cheesiest streams and hatched the whole idea.”
Nureyev smiled at that and leaned back against the pillows. “Still, thank you, Benzaiten.”
“Whatever, Rex,” he replied with another eye-roll.
Nureyev actually chuckled, feeling exhaustion coming over him again. “Careful, Benzaiten. You’re almost being nice to me.”
“I’m contractually required to do anything my brother asks for twenty-four hours if he cries,” Benten said flatly. “He asked me to wait with you and ‘be nice’ when you woke up.”
Nureyev laughed out loud, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. Licking his chapped lips, he flinched when he found the gap where his teeth used to be. He pressed his tongue into the hole, and made a face, resolving to fix that as quickly as possible.
“Plus, I mean,” Benten began with an explosive sigh. “I can’t really listen to my brother sob about how much he loves a guy while he’s bleeding out in a gutter and then get right back to bullying him when he wakes up. I have some morals or whatever. Yelling at you for being stupid does not count as bullying, though.”
Nureyev froze, eyes flashing open to look at Benten sharply. “How much… did you overhear?”
“Some of it. Enough of it, I guess,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug. “Juno already tore into me about your name, by the way. I get it, my lips are sealed, I’m leaving it alone. You’re ‘Rex’ until you tell me otherwise, okay?”
“Sounds agreeable,” Nureyev said tensely, but he forced himself to relax. This was Benzaiten Steel, the love of his life’s twin brother, with whom Juno shared nearly everything. If there was another person in the galaxy Nureyev would have eventually told, it likely would have been him.
“Just don’t be too hard on him about it,” Benten said quickly. “He’s been working himself into at least three ulcers over it.”
Nureyev merely nodded before he closed his eyes again and laid back. He would think about it more later when he had the opportunity to do so alone.
Benten made an unimpressed noise. “You have to choose your meals, Rex. It’s the paper on your tray.”
Nureyev sighed and shook his head. Exhaustion was dragging on his limbs and he couldn’t be bothered to choose what awful hospital food he would have forced on him.
“Fine, go to sleep. Gonna set you up with a liquid diet,” Benten said sourly. “Nothing but smoothies and broth.”
Nureyev laughed a bit before allowing himself to drop off back to sleep.
It was the next day when Juno returned.
Nureyev was picking at his meal, having eaten everything remotely palatable while Mick sat with him, shuffling a deck of cards. They had played a few rounds of various games up until someone delivered him his meal.
He could hear Juno’s heavy boots in the hall and looked over at the door moments before the detective walked in. Seeing him again, after everything they’d gone through, took the breath right out of Nureyev’s lungs.
Juno’s clothes were dusty and rumpled in a way that made Nureyev think heʼd slept in them, and he had more than a little bit of stubble on his jaw. Nureyev remembered that Juno loved him, and a thousand butterflies took wing in his stomach. He wanted to leap out of the bed and embrace Juno, shower him with romantic verse and tell him over and over and over again that he loved him, too.
But when Juno’s eye met his, he froze in the doorway, his expression open and easy to read for only the briefest of moments. It showed relief first, and then fear before it was closed, like shutters being pulled to keep Nureyev out.
That was concerning, but he wasn’t about to jump to any conclusions.
Mick looked over and grinned, his big goofy one that was usually contagious. “Hey, JayJay! Welcome back!”
“Hey, Mick,” Juno greeted, biting the inside of his cheek but not entering the room any further. “How’s everything?”
“Everything’s great!” Mick replied, turning to scoop up his cards and put them away in their box. “Especially now that you’re back, everything’s perfect!”
“Where are you going?” Juno asked, a look of panic overcoming his expression when his big friend stood and walked toward the door.
“I mean, I was going back to work? I do actually have a job here, you know,” he replied with a full laugh, looking between Juno and Nureyev with a suggestive look. “That, and I figure you two lovebirds would like the chance to catch up.”
Before either of them could say anything, Mick was already out the door, only pausing to clap a heavy hand on Juno’s shoulder as he passed. Once the door shut behind him with a loud clap, silence fell over the room.
After a minute or two with nothing said between them, Nureyev motioned to what was left of his food. “Hungry? I’m not eating the rest of this,” he said, sneering at the remainder of his meal.
Eying what Nureyev had left on his tray, Juno snorted. “Too good for jello and applesauce, Rex?”
“Yes,” Nureyev replied flatly.
With a chuckle, Juno picked up the applesauce pouch and opened it, eating the stuff slowly while Nureyev watched him. The detective was obviously thinking about something, and it wasn’t sitting very well on his mind either. Nureyev just wasn’t quite sure how to bring the topic up in a way that would be productive with his detective.
“Juno, darling—”
“I have to check on the cafe. It's been closed for a couple days,” Juno said suddenly, furrowing his brow down at the pouch of applesauce. “Gotta make sure it’s still in one piece.”
“I—” Nureyev started, his mouth twisting with hurt but he didn’t know what to say. Despite saying he should go, however, Juno hadn’t made any move to leave which gave Nureyev some hope. “O-of course, I understand. Could we talk before you leave, dear?”
“What’s there to talk about?” Juno asked, still pointedly looking at the pouch in his hands, and Nureyev’s frown deepened.
“Well, we can start with something small. How did disposing of the weapons go?” Nureyev asked, working hard to keep his voice steady.
“Went fine, your friend isn’t very talkative,” Juno replied, still not looking at him. “Feel like he kinda overcharged for his services, but hey, I’m not about to argue with someone twice my size. Plus, seemed kind of fitting to use Pereyra’s hush-money.”
“Of course,” Nureyev said, and the sigh escaped him before he could stop it, and he asked, “Have I done something wrong, Juno?”
“What?” Juno asked, finally meeting Nureyev’s gaze with an alarmed look.
“I mean, of course, I’m struggling to think of anything I could’ve done, given that I’ve been unconscious—”
“Rex, why the hell would you think you’ve done anything wrong?” Juno interrupted and Nureyev laughed at the question.
“You have barely looked at me since you returned and were planning to leave the moment you saw I was conscious,” Nureyev listed back at him, raising an eyebrow, trying to calm the rising panic in his gut. “So, either I’ve done something, or… I don’t know, Juno. I don’t know what else all of that could mean.”
“No, Rex, that’s not—” Juno abruptly cut himself off, and just like that, the wall came crumbling down. “I’m—I fucked up, so much, and didn’t listen to anything you said. I know you said no hospitals—”
“Juno—”
“—and I know it was really selfish of me to risk your identity—”
“My love, please—”
“—But I couldn’t just let it happen like that. And then Benten reminded me about Mick—”
“Juno—”
“—and I know Benten overheard your name, I fucked up, forgetting the comms—”
“Juno! Please,” Nureyev finally managed to get in, and Juno shut his mouth with an audible click of his teeth. Nureyev swivelled his tray out of the way and looked at Juno. “Yes, I said I couldn’t go to the hospital, but you seem to have sufficiently worked around the issues I have with them. As for your other point, yes it was not ideal, someone else learning my name, but I’m not— you didn’t do anything wrong. It can’t be taken back now, regardless.”
“But Rex—”
“I’ve talked to Benzaiten about it already. Now answer this for me: would I have survived if you had not brought me here?” Nureyev interrupted curtly, and he could feel himself shaking as he waited for Juno’s answer.
Juno bit the inside of his cheek, and his eye went glassy and wet with emotion. “No,” he replied, his voice something quiet and delicate.
“Then I’m grateful you ignored my wishes, Juno,” Nureyev said with a smile, holding his hand out to reach for Juno. “Now, please, can you just come here and lay with me?”
Juno was quick with tossing the empty pouch of applesauce in the trash and removing his boots before climbing onto the bed next to Nureyev. Juno only paused in laying down to give him a kiss, deepening it with a keening whine and a swipe of his tongue, straddling his lap carefully. The rasp of Juno’s stubble against Nureyev’s face was novel and exquisite, and he almost pulled the detective in for even more.
Then Juno pulled away with a bit of a grimace, laughing at Nureyev’s puzzled expression. “Sorry,” he laughed again, not sounding sorry at all. “Feels kinda weird with the missing teeth.”
Nureyev groaned. “I’m well aware, dear.”
Juno chuckled and kissed him again. “I’m sure I can get used to it. You know, if we practice a bit,” he said suggestively, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in for another kiss. Nureyev smirked and deepened it just enough to warrant a quick nip at Juno’s lower lip as he pulled away.
“That is certainly something we can do,” he agreed, grabbing the front of Juno’s shirt and pulling him in for more.
They made out slow and easy with no sense of urgency and very little heat for some time. Juno brought his hands up to hold Nureyev’s between them, sighing happily as Nureyev licked into his mouth.
After some time passed languidly like that, Juno pulled back to grumble, “How is it you can be out cold for two days and not have just rancid morning breath?”
“They do let me out of this bed, dear detective,” Nureyev replied with a laugh. “That is actually a requirement for them to discharge me. I’ve both bathed and brushed my teeth today.”
“Right, yeah,” Juno said sheepishly. “That makes sense. So you’ll be discharged soon?”
Nureyev nodded and said, “In a few days. The wound on my back has one more round of treatment before I can resume most normal physical activity.”
Juno nodded but was startled by a very big and very loud yawn. “Oh, shit. Sorry, Rex, I’m not bored, just exhausted,” he grumbled a bit as he rubbed his eye tiredly.
Nureyev smiled sweetly at Juno, which had the detective looking at him with a wide eye and chewing on the inside of his cheek. The expression was so strange on his face, so vulnerable that Nureyev expected the shutters to be pulled any moment, but then they weren’t. Another flock of butterflies burst to flight in his stomach.
“You’re fine, darling. Come and lay down with me,” Nureyev finally said, beckoning Juno into his arms, an invitation that was immediately accepted.
Nureyev let out a contented sigh as Juno wrapped around him like an octopus, his mouth and nose pressed into his throat, against the parts of his skin that weren’t covered in bandages. Nureyev shivered at the brushing touch of Juno’s lips, at the hot breath against his neck and felt the fluttering in his gut settle as he wrapped an arm around Juno’s shoulders. Held tight in Nureyev’s arms, Juno sucked in a deep breath through his nose, seemingly holding it before slowly releasing it and burrowing deeper into the nape of his neck.
“Is everything okay, Juno?” he asked quietly, feeling his entire body relaxing with the warmth of his lover against him.
“Mm-hmm,” Juno mumbled, his voice already thick and sleepy. “I was just… just needed to check something.”
Nureyev smiled at that and turned to press his lips against the top of Juno’s head in a gentle kiss. “Juno,” he said quietly, his heart jumping when he remembered Juno’s confession again. “I wanted to ask you something.”
There was no response from the detective except for a quiet, gentle snore. Juno was sound asleep within the handful of minutes it had taken him to settle in against him, and Nureyev couldn’t have helped the smile that came to his face if he wanted to.
- - - - -
It was dark when Nureyev was woken up, and he was immediately tense. Something was wrong, and for a delirious moment he thought it was the weight holding him down that was the issue. Then the memories of the hospital, Juno returning, and both of them falling asleep together came back in a rush.
Juno twitched and let out a low groan, his fingers curled tightly into the front of Nureyev’s medical gown. He was clammy, his sweat soaking through to Nureyev’s skin, and he was shivering. Then Juno gagged, dry-heaving as he woke up and looked around wildly.
Nureyev grabbed the little bucket he had been provided by the hospital and handed it to Juno, who immediately used it with incredible enthusiasm. The whole time, Nureyev rubbed his back gently, pausing to massage the back of Juno’s neck when he was done unloading the contents of his stomach, humming quietly as the detective tried to calm his breathing. A few minutes later, after successfully staving off another bout of puking, Juno finally leaned over to place the bucket on the bedside table.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he groaned, covering his face and his voice sounded entirely too upset for Nureyev’s liking. “They come back when I’m stressed out. The nightmares, I mean.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Nureyev asked, reaching up to gently pull Juno’s hands away from his face.
Juno blinked at him as if the answer was plain as day, baffled that he would even have to ask. “I woke you up,” Juno said flatly, as if that was enough of a reason. “I woke you up, almost puked on you, and shit, I’m so sweaty—”
“Juno, dear, do you realize how low those things are on my list of priorities?” Nureyev interrupted, lifting his hands to cradle Juno’s face. “Right now, I’m worried about  you, love.”
He could feel Juno’s face heat up against his palms, the detective clearly embarrassed and perhaps a bit overwhelmed. “It’s— you need your sleep, so I should go,” Juno quickly said, but before he could get up, Nureyev adjusted his hands to hold the back of Juno’s head.
“What you’re going to do, Juno Steel, is go into that bathroom and use one of the toothbrushes provided by the hospital,” Nureyev said firmly, and Juno went still next to him. “Then you’re going to come back here and lay with me again.
“You don’t have to do this, Rex,” Juno whispered, and Nureyev pulled him down so he could press a kiss to his forehead.
“Of course I don’t, Juno. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” Nureyev replied, sighing as he let Juno sit back enough to meet his gaze again. “If you refuse to let me do this for you, then do as I ask for my own comfort. I’m worried about you, and would very much like to hold you.”
Juno bit the inside of his cheek as he shook his head in disbelief. “Are you serious?” he eventually asked and Nureyev laughed softly.
“Of course I am, darling,” he replied, pursing his lips tightly. “Now go and brush your teeth. I expect you to come right back here.”
Juno huffed a weak laugh and as he slipped off the bed, he muttered a quiet, “Yes, sir.” Nureyev found himself a bit breathless at being called “sir” and decided that might be something for them to explore properly later.
A few minutes later, Juno crawled back onto the bed, squawking a bit when Nureyev yanked him forward by the front of his shirt. Tucking the detective in beside him, Nureyev dipped his head to capture Juno’s lips in a chaste kiss, sighing when Juno pressed up into it.
“Would it… help to talk about it?” Nureyev asked a bit haltingly when they pulled apart. He personally had very little experience with nightmares and even less with the nightmares of a loved one.
“I don’t know,” Juno replied after a bit, and he flopped down next to Nureyev, tucking his head under his chin. “They’re just about when I lost my eye.”
“Ah, I see,” Nureyev hummed, rubbing Juno’s back soothingly.
“But now you’re there,” he confessed, wrapping his arm tightly around Nureyev’s waist. “When I was so busy fussing about my aim that she got you. Keeps replaying.”
“Juno, please understand that I am incredibly grateful for you taking what time you did to aim,” Nureyev said firmly. “Also, understand that she was going to ‘get me’ whether you shot her or not.”
Juno stiffened in his arms before propping himself up to look at Nureyev’s face. “What?” he asked quietly.
“I’m not sure if this will be comforting to you or not,” Nureyev started, before sighing. “I felt the knife before you even lifted your blaster, Juno. It was likely her plan to stab me, and let me bleed out while she continued taunting you.”
At that, Juno sat up fully to meet Nureyev’s gaze properly. “Seriously?”
“She underestimated you, dear detective,” Nureyev replied, smiling. “She didn’t do it as some sort of last moment revenge on you. She truly believed she had won.”
“That’s…” Juno trailed off before chuckling a bit. “That actually is kind of comforting.”
“I should hope so,” Nureyev said with a laugh of his own. “You were amazing in there, and I cannot thank you enough for doing literally nothing I told you to.”
Juno laughed out loud and bent to kiss Nureyev, slow and searching before pulling away to snuggle in tight again.
“I’ve always had a problem with authority,” he joked around a yawn.
Nureyev chuckled at that and squeezed Juno against his side. Within a few minutes, Juno was asleep again and Nureyev was drifting off to join him.
- - - - -
Nureyev discharged himself from the hospital a day early. He had managed to convince Juno to go home early in the evening, and that he would come by the cafe the next day at dinnertime, so there was no need to visit him again. There was part of him that knew leaving Mars immediately was wiser, that staying was just asking to get caught again by Ramses or even Pereyra.
But Nureyev was fairly confident that the information dug up and subsequently leaked for both mayoral candidates would keep them busy for the foreseeable future, at least long enough to spend a couple more nights however he pleased.
And what he wanted most was to spend his last night on Mars with a cranky private investigator. He also had another appointment.
So he changed hotels to something fancier, though discreet with very few surveillance cameras in the halls, as the establishment catered to guests seeking a more romantic experience. They would not be watched, nor bothered, and the rooms all had incredible sound-proofing between units.
Nureyev decided he should go all out for his romantic evening with Juno, and rented the honeymoon suite. It was a corner suite on the highest floor, which would give them an almost panoramic view of Hyperion City and the surface of Mars beyond the dome through uninterrupted floor-to-ceiling windows. Just off the spacious living room through a set of double-doors was the bedroom and it’s ensuite.
Nureyev was particularly enamoured with the king-sized four-poster bed, which was on a raised platform and tucked right into the corner of windows. There were gauzy fabrics hanging from the ceiling and secured at points above the corners of the bed, though they only draped to curtain off the two sides of the bed facing into the bedroom. The gauzy fabric was lined with thousands of dots of gentle, amber lights that twinkled like stars.
The ensuite itself was massive, with a huge soaker tub and luxurious shower stall, both also situated against floor-to-ceiling windows.
Nureyev spent the better part of his afternoon chatting with the concierge about arrangements for the next evening and then, after asking her a few questions about local stores, he headed out to do some shopping.
The next day, Nureyev properly groomed himself for the first time since the heist, which had been… a bit of an ordeal he hadn’t anticipated.
It was the first time he had seen himself naked for any amount of time without bandages and there was a vain part of him that cringed away from himself, that squirmed at the idea of Juno seeing him like that.
The scars on his face would be easy to hide with make-up, he decided, especially the thinner ones that decorated his cheeks and the line of his jaw. The ones on his throat would be trickier, and he cursed his lack of foresight during his shopping trip the day before. He could have gotten a nice collar or something to cover them up. He would have to use make-up until he found a more suitable alternative.
It was the mess of slashes on his chest and the electrical burn scars on his abdomen that caused him the most distress, given his penchant for revealing tops. He didn’t have much in the way of sexy clothing that would hide those, and make-up wouldn’t be ideal.
What would Juno think?
But then he remembered that Juno wore his scars, if not with pride then with defiance. What would that say to Juno, if Nureyev went to such great lengths to hide his own wounds? What would that communicate to his sensitive detective?
So with a determined sigh, Nureyev got dressed without consideration for hiding anything, putting on a black, cropped top with a plunging neckline that showed off all of the jagged scars across his chest, and if not for the corset-waisted slacks he wore, the burn scar would also have been almost completely visible.
He finished his look off with a loose braid, tied off with a black ribbon, keeping his hair quite nicely out of his face.
Nureyev looked at himself in the mirror again, and hated what he saw, but he would learn to be okay with it. If Juno could, so could Nureyev.
As he left the hotel that afternoon, he stopped by the front desk to verify that the special accommodations he set up the night before were still happening, and to inform them he was leaving for the day for their convenience.
The cab ride to his first destination was short and sweet, and Nureyev asked the driver to keep the meter running, regardless of how long it took him to return.
It did not take long, as he had been promised it wouldn’t when the specialist had visited him at the hospital. It was only thirty minutes, and he was returning to the cab with a new set of teeth. The marvels of modern medicine and cosmetic surgery had allowed him to easily and almost painlessly fix the mess the Piranha had made of his iconic smile. He even paid a little bit extra to get something a bit flashier than boring old white, going instead with something that looked like rose gold, inspired by the ear cuff Juno always wore.
In the back of the cab, Nureyev was beside himself with excitement to show Juno, bouncing his knee and drumming a beat on his thigh. By the time they reached the cafe, he was about to vibrate right out of his skin.
“Keep the meter running again, please,” Nureyev said breathlessly to the driver, sliding out and walking into the cafe
Juno was behind the counter with Benten and Rita, the three of them chatting while Juno was balancing an empty serving tray on the tip of his finger. Juno was less rumpled—wearing a pink sweater-dress that exposed his shoulders and just enough of his collarbones to make Nureyev’s mouth water—though he still had quite a bit of stubble defining the sharp edge of his jaw.
Nureyev may have commented on the stubble at one point while he was in the hospital, perhaps in the middle of a heated make-out session with his detective. There was also the possibility that he had made a crude comment about where else he might enjoy feeling the burn of it. Juno had since been conspicuously lax on shaving, and that excited Nureyev greatly.
Juno looked over, and when he properly registered that it was indeed Nureyev he was seeing, his face lit up. It wasn’t a grin, but there was a way his face would shift when he smirked at him that felt like the entire sun was being channelled through it. Juno’s posture straightened and he grabbed the tray between both of his hands to avoid dropping it.
“They let you out early for good behaviour?” Juno asked teasingly, pushing a grumpy Benten out of the way so he could lean against the counter as Nureyev approached. “Thought you wouldn’t be here until after dinner.”
“I actually discharged myself last night to get a few things prepared. I also had an appointment today,” Nureyev said as he stopped at the counter. He placed his hands on the counter top and leaned close, grinning broadly at the detective.
The moment Juno saw the new teeth, his eye widened and the tray slipped out of his hands, clattering loudly against the counter before hitting the floor.
Benten let out a low, begrudgingly impressed whistle before turning a judgmental look on Juno.
Rita however shoved herself up as tall as she could get on the counter short of standing on it, letting out a high-pitched sound of excitement. Without hesitation, she grabbed Nureyev’s face with both hands and turned it side to side before squealing again.
“Wow, Mista Glass, that is  so cool! And  preeetty!” she gushed before gasping dramatically and letting go of his face. “They’re pretty-cool! Not pretty cool as in cooler than normal, boring cool, but pretty-cool as in they’re both pretty  and  cool because they’re cool  and pretty!”
She barely paused to catch her breath before she smacked Juno’s arm with a stern look. “Mista Steel, aren’tcha gonna say something nice about Mista Glass’ new teeth?” she growled in a tone that she possibly thought was quiet, but the entire restaurant heard her.
Juno swallowed thickly, taking in a shaky breath before nodding. “Uh,” he began, his voice too hoarse to continue right away, so he cleared his throat before saying, “They’re, uh, they’re really great. They l-look, uh, good.”
Nureyev took a moment to bite his bottom lip, feigning shyness to show off the teeth pressing into soft flesh. Juno’s breath left him in a quick whoosh at that, his expression taking on an even more dazed quality.
“Holy shit,” Juno whispered dreamily, quiet enough that only the three of them with him at the counter could hear.
At that, Benten pulled a face and gagged audibly. “Oh, gross. Get a room,” he groaned loudly, and Juno spluttered for a moment, successfully snapped out of his stupor.
Nureyev turned a broad grin on Benten, not missing the way Juno’s eye locked on his mouth again.
“I did, in fact, get one,” he said, and turned to look at Juno again, adding, “I’m here to collect my dear detective for the evening.”
Rita actually screamed with her delight, gaining the attention of every patron in the cafe, and abruptly turned to start pulling Juno’s apron off.
“Aw, Mista Glass, how romantic! C’mon, Mista Steel, get outta here!” she commanded, growling when Juno kept knocking her hands away.
Juno bit the inside of his cheek, finally managing to get Rita to stop grabbing at his clothes. For the first time since Nureyev arrived, Juno looked unsure and Nureyev wanted to pull him into a kiss.
“I’m not really dressed for a date, Rex,” he said, and Nureyev could tell he was pulling down the back of his dress nervously. Nureyev smiled at him, feeling utterly fond of Juno in a way that was almost smothering.
“You look beautiful, radiant even, my love,” he replied and Rita made that sound of hers again, the one like a rocketship revving, while Benten groaned and rolled his eyes.
“What a line, Rex,” Benten said flatly. “Juno’s not that easy—”
“Y-yeah, okay. Yeah,” Juno interrupted, his gaze turning dreamy again as he fished the keys to the cafe out of the pocket of his dress and finished taking off his apron.
“Wow, I stand corrected,” Benten murmured, eyebrows raised as he accepted the keys from Juno. “Are you going to be home in time to open tomorrow, or should I post a sign?”
Juno glanced at Nureyev, who merely smirked at him suggestively, relishing Benten’s gag and Rita’s snickers.
“The sign might be a better idea, Ben,” Juno replied with his own little smirk before he came around the counter and followed Nureyev out.
They slid into the backseat of the cab, sitting flush together and the moment they were settled, Nureyev pulled Juno into a kiss. It was chaste, for the sake of the driver if nothing else, but he desperately wanted to deepen it. Juno, the absolute minx, tested his restraint when he dragged his pierced tongue along the seam of his lips.
However, the driver cleared his throat and Juno pulled away so quickly, Nureyev feared he might exit the vehicle entirely.
“So, where to now, Mr Rose?” the driver asked, his expression unimpressed in the rear view mirror.
Nureyev only smiled at the man’s sour look and said, “Back to the hotel, please.”
“Your hotel?” Juno asked, and when Nureyev looked at him, he was delighted to see the confused little pout.
It was obvious Juno was thinking about the seedy little hotel room he’d booked before the heist, and it was endearing that he had expected better. Nureyev smiled soothingly down at Juno, grabbing his thigh and squeezing lightly.
“Do you trust me, love?” Nureyev asked, low and quiet.
“Well, yeah,” Juno said without hesitation.
Nureyev leaned down and gave Juno a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and the detective immediately turned into it. Nureyev was almost sad that he had to pull away, lest he get carried away.
“Then trust that I wouldn’t take you to a hovel for—” he paused, realizing what he was about to say, and that it would be the first time he was saying it aloud. Nureyev took a deep breath, and said, “For our last night before I leave.”
Juno’s expression faltered, becoming deeply sad before he visibly rallied himself with a small smile. “Okay.”
When they pulled up to the hotel, Juno let out a low whistle and looked down at his sweater-dress and clunky leather boots. “Damn, Duke. Now I’m definitely underdressed,” he said, and while it was said as if it was a joke, it sounded a bit too self-deprecating for Nureyev’s liking.
Nureyev paid the cabby handsomely for being a chauffeur and got out when the doorman opened his door. Reaching back into the cab, he helped Juno slide out with a firm grip on his hand.
“I said you looked radiant, love, and I meant it,” Nureyev soothed. “And if it worries you so much, I do have something up in the room for you to change into.”
“You bought me clothes?” Juno asked him incredulously, his face the picture of annoyance but his tone lacked all heat.
“Only a few items, love, and at quite the discount, too. A steal even,” Nureyev said cheekily, kissing the top of Juno’s head and tangling their fingers together. “So don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours.”
“Duke, is this… okay?” Juno asked quietly as Nureyev led him inside by their clasped hands. When Juno tucked himself in close to his side, Nureyev looked down at him and while the detective looked unsure, there was the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.
“This hotel is very discreet, very few cameras,” Nureyev explained, squeezing Juno’s hand a bit. “Also, we aren’t hiding from mayors, aspiring or otherwise, nor their shared criminal bodyguard.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Juno said as an adorable smile curved his lips, and Nureyev was very nearly about to bend and kiss him senseless right there in the lobby.
“And,” Nureyev began in a lower voice as they arrived at the elevators. “The staff might think it’s odd if we walked in acting like we barely knew each other.”
“And why’s that?” Juno asked, looking up at him through his lashes.
“I requested a few romantic accommodations earlier,” he replied with a smirk, pausing at Juno’s shaky inhale. “And, I did rent the honeymoon suite.”
“Are you serious?” Juno asked as the elevator dinged with its arrival, his hand twitching in Nureyev’s.
“Of course I am,” Nureyev says with a winning smile as they stepped inside. Juno’s gaze, as Nureyev expected, was immediately drawn to the new teeth. “Only the best for my beautiful lady, after all.”
As soon as the doors slid shut behind them, Nureyev was dragged down by the front of his loose and flowy shirt, his mouth captured in a hungry kiss. Juno whined, pressing as close to Nureyev’s body as he could, tongue pressing into his mouth insistently. The sudden armful of solid detective had Nureyev stumbling back against the wall, chuckling into Juno’s mouth before meeting his tongue halfway. He allowed the kiss for a few moments before he gently pushed Juno back, grinning at the detective’s dazed expression.
“Slow down, love,” he said soothingly as the elevator slowed to a stop. When the doors reopened, Nureyev took Juno’s hand again and began to lead him down the hall. “We have all night.”
“That a promise?” Juno asked huskily, and Nureyev was shocked at how slick he felt between his legs already.
“Well, I’m certainly up for the challenge,” Nureyev replied as they arrived at the door to the suite, pulling out his key and smirking down at Juno. “And I fully expect you to stay the night this time.”
“Sounding pretty confident there, Rose,” Juno teased.
“I can be quite persuasive, I’ve been told,” Nureyev replied, beckoning Juno inside once he got the door open.
Upon seeing the suite, Juno gasped and let go of Nureyev’s hand to cross the room to the windows overlooking his city.
Nureyev took the time that Juno was distracted to survey the room for his requests and remove his gloves. There was a small table set up with a tablecloth and a beautiful flower arrangement, ready and waiting for their dinner to be delivered in the next hour or so. The monitor was on, set to a station that was playing gentle, romantic music.
Overall, he was pleased with the hotel’s work and had faith the bedroom and ensuite were to his specifications as well. Joining Juno at the windows, he looked down and his breath caught at the stunned expression on the detective’s face. Juno finally turned his gaze away to look at the suite, his eye wide.
“Nureyev,” he started, and it was that moment that Nureyev realized he hadn’t heard his name from those lips in days, a realization that almost knocked him off his feet. “This is… really nice.”
Nureyev was very suddenly unsure of his plans, whether they were the right course of action or if they were more likely to scare the detective away. Juno looked overwhelmed, his eye wet with unshed tears, his bottom lip quivering a bit before he bit it lightly. Nureyev cupped Juno’s cheeks in both hands, wiping away a tear that was about to fall.
“Juno, is this okay?” he asked, truly worried he’d gone too far.
“Yeah, jeez, sorry. This is amazing, just,” Juno said with a laugh, tilting his head into one of Nureyev’s hands and closing his eye with a watery sigh. “No one’s ever done something this nice for me.”
Not for the first time, Nureyev was overcome with the urge to hunt down and strangle the life out of every single person who had deemed themselves worthy of Juno Steel’s time. They had all swept him up and they took, and took, and took from him, not once putting in the work to deserve him, leaving Juno to tear up over the bare minimum.
Instead, Nureyev stooped to kiss Juno, deep and searching, drawing the soft little gasping moans he loved so dearly from his gorgeous detective.
“Well, then I’m glad to have been the first,” he said as they parted for air. “Dinner should be arriving in just over an hour. The bathroom is just inside the bedroom if you would like to freshen up a bit?”
Juno took a deep breath and nodded, stepping out of Nureyev’s embrace. “Yeah, I’ll go do that,” he said, a bit dazed still, and when he turned to walk away, Nureyev followed him.
“You know, I’ve been running around all morning, so I think I’ll get cleaned up as well,” he said with a cheeky grin, the expression widening at Juno’s sceptical snort.
“I doubt we have time for both of us to take a shower, Nureyev,” Juno said.
“I’m sure we could think of some sort of arrangement, love,” Nureyev purred suggestively, thoroughly enjoying the confused look on Juno’s face when he glanced back.
“What the hell does—” he began, but at Nureyev’s smirk, his expression went slack with realization, an expression Nureyev found as beautiful as it was priceless. “—Oh.”
Juno swallowed thickly and stammered, “Y-yeah, I mean sure—yeah, we can do that. Totally.”
Nureyev smiled  wide when Juno cut himself off shyly, biting the inside of his cheek. Juno glanced at the new teeth again, and Nureyev took that moment to drag his tongue lightly across the points of them. Juno took a shuddery breath before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the bedroom.
The opulence of the bedroom actually tripped Juno up a bit, Nureyev running into him when he staggered to a halt with a gasp.
The curtains around the bed were freed from their tie-backs, and the twinkling lights in the billowy canopy were turned on. The gauzy fabrics obscured the view of the bed and windows beyond by quite a bit, but Nureyev did like that they wouldn’t offer complete privacy.
Taking a deep breath, Juno continued into the ensuite, only to come to an abrupt halt all over again.
The room was lit up in the gentle, amber light of the chandelier hanging above the huge round soaker tub to their left. It was set into a ledge which sat against the massive windows overlooking the city. The tub was already full of steamy water, and there was a near-solid layer of rose petals across the surface. The petals were also scattered across the edge of the tub, the window ledge, and the floor around it.
“Jeez, Nureyev. Are there any roses left in Hyperion City?” Juno all but whispered next to him, and he flushed deeply.
He had requested a romantic set-up for the evening, certainly, but he had expressed that his date would not appreciate a spectacle. The concierge had confirmed a subtle, understated romantic feel, and Nureyev shuddered at the thought of what the full romantic package would have looked like.
Nureyev turned to defend himself and saw the expression on Juno’s face. His eye was wide with wonder and delight, as well as something intense like yearning— no, it was love that overtook Juno’s expression. Nureyev was winded when he realized that Juno loved it, every part of it, right down to the floral massacre in the bathtub. The sass was an attempt at deflecting, at trying not to let on just how much he wanted it.
With a tug of their clasped hands, Nureyev spun Juno into his embrace and dipped down for a searching kiss, hands twisting in the knit of Juno’s dress. Juno whined and opened for him, pushing up onto his toes with his hands holding Nureyev’s biceps. They stood flush together, mouths moving slow and perfect, and Nureyev sighed when Juno’s tongue pressed against his own, the piercings sending a thrill through him.
Nureyev pulled back to catch his breath, and Juno tipped back onto his heels to stare up at him, dazed and smiling. He took in the face of his detective, his gaze lingering on the plain black eyepatch for a few moments before lifting a hand questioningly. It wasn’t even particularly important to him if Juno wore the eyepatch or not—that was Juno’s decision, and his decision only. Nureyev only figured that it would be an inconvenient obstacle in the bath.
Juno sucked in a sharp breath as Nureyev’s fingers lightly touched the eyepatch, and Nureyev waited for a sign to continue or back off. There was a beat before Juno gave him a quick nod, and Nureyev slowly lifted it off, tossing it onto the vanity.
Turning back to his detective, Nureyev  took in the full view of Juno’s face for the first time since meeting him.
Nureyev found himself surprised to see that Juno still had his natural eye. For whatever reason, he had expected the eye to have been completely removed, but that was not the case.
“They were able to save the eye itself,” Juno muttered quietly, tensely as if hearing Nureyev’s thoughts. “Couldn’t get the vision back.”
Nureyev nodded with a comforting smile and looked his face over, really taking it in and cataloging each new thing.
There were three very distinct scars running vertically over the eyelid. Two of them were quite shallow and short, just enough to have drawn blood and cause pain, but minimal permanent damage. The third, however, was deep and jagged, starting just under Juno’s brow and ending just about his cheekbone. While the eye itself had been salvaged, it was murky where the scarring and blood vessels had formed over the damaged iris and pupil.
The injury would have been brutal, the pain immense, and for a moment Nureyev was deeply disappointed that the Piranha had been given a quick execution.
Juno’s breathing quickened as Nureyev took his time, his eyes glancing down before he began to turn away, biting the inside of his cheek. Nureyev made a small sound, a gentle  tsk as he cupped Juno’s jaw with both hands and turned him back to meet his gaze. The detective was shaking, waiting for Nureyev’s reaction and it was obvious he expected the worst.
And Nureyev wasn’t sure he could blame Juno; if anything Piranha had said about this supposed fiance of Juno’s was true, he had every reason to fear such vulnerability.
Slowly, Nureyev bent to place a gentle, lingering kiss to Juno’s cheekbone, waiting out the bout of shuddering breaths. The moment Juno released a soft sigh, and the tension leaked out of his shoulders, he moved his lips to the corner of his eye. There he waited again, humming happily when Juno almost immediately tilted his head back, and leaned his body closer to Nureyev.
Nureyev dropped a hand to wrap around Juno’s back to hold him firmly, soothingly, and gently brushed a gentle, barely-there kiss to Juno’s scarred eyelid.
“You’re gorgeous, my love,” Nureyev breathed, and he could feel tears pricking behind his eyelids with the ferocity of his emotions for Juno. “What did I do to deserve this?”
Juno made a soft, almost wounded sound before he tipped his head back and surged up onto his toes to capture Nureyev’s lips again. With a happy sigh, Nureyev gathered Juno up into his arms, pressing closer and deeper, wanting to taste and feel Juno as much and as quickly as possible. He was overwhelmed by the way the detective clung and squirmed against him, making soft and desperate sounds against his tongue.
Nureyev pulled back with a groan and dropped his mouth to Juno’s shoulder, exposed as it was with the open panels of his dress, and bit it lightly. Juno gasped, tipping his head back with a shudder, and Nureyev let go to place an open-mouthed kiss against the spot, lapping at it soothingly as Juno let out a sob.
He startled at the metallic tang of blood and pulled back to check on Juno. There were two cuts, each tiny enough to have stopped bleeding already, but Nureyev still cursed himself under his breath for being reckless.
“I’m sorry about that, my love,” he said sheepishly, kissing the spot soothingly again. “These new teeth are quite sharp.”
“Yeah, they are,” Juno sighed dreamily, and when Nureyev properly looked at him, the detective appeared perfectly blissed out. “They’re amazing.”
Nureyev raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, are they?” he asked with a smirk, and at Juno’s rare, unrestrained grin, Nureyev pressed in for another searching kiss.
- - - - -
They sat in the bathtub for some time, slowly making out while they caught their breath after their impromptu romp. Nureyev was floating above the clouds it seemed, weightless and blissed-out with his lady in his lap and in his arms.
Juno made a small sound in his throat at one particularly languid pass of Nureyev’s tongue and squirmed against him. Heat was building again, and Nureyev was happy to be swept away by it again. He knew there was a reason not to, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember it when Juno shifted to straddle his lap, sitting flush to his front and playing with his tits idly.
“The hell was that?”
Nureyev actually whined when Juno wrenched away from his mouth, and he chased after the kiss. His lips found Juno’s throat instead, which was perfectly fine for him.
“Duke, knock it off, I heard something!” Juno hissed and that caught Nureyev’s attention.
Pulling away, Nureyev and Juno sat quietly for a few moments, listening to the sound of movement in the living room. At a sound that was clearly the clinking of cutlery and crystal, Nureyev cringed.
“That is likely the serving staff,” he said slowly, tipping his head back against the cushioned lip of the tub and closing his eyes. “Delivering our food.”
“Duke… did you close any of the doors coming in here?” Juno asked quietly, drawing the question out and pulling a chuckle from Nureyev.
“I did not,” he confessed. “I foolishly had not planned for us to have… appetizers, so to speak.”
“So they heard at least some of that?”
There was something odd in Juno’s tone, and Nureyev opened his eyes again to meet his gaze, worried that Juno was upset. “It’s entirely likely,” he replied carefully.
Nureyev did not miss the look of intense interest that crossed Juno’s face, and he was a little shocked that the detective would be inclined toward a bit of exhibitionism. Then again, he thought, Juno had been the one to wear fancy lingerie to work under a sweater-dress that barely covered his ass. Excitement pulsed through Nureyev at the thought of Juno wanting to show off a bit, about taking Juno where they might get caught, where they could be heard and possibly seen.
He quickly filed that away, however, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he got too hot again.
“Perhaps we should wash up while we wait for them to leave?” Nureyev suggested, and Juno nodded quickly, smiling openly at the thief.
They took their time wiping each other down, slowly kissing while they did. Nureyev paid special attention to Juno, keeping his touches light and chaste, though their intent for later were quite clear. Juno leaned heavily against him, accepting the pampering with a sigh while he mouthed at Nureyev’s pulse.
When they had finished up, Nureyev cradled Juno’s cheek gently and smiled lightly when their gazes met again. Juno leaned forward with a sigh, and Nureyev happily accepted the slow, sweet kiss, wrapping his detective in his arms loosely. It was utterly perfect, and Nureyev almost cursed when the noises from the living room quieted and they heard the door to the hallway close.
“I think it is safe to get out now, dear,” he murmured against Juno’s lips, gently pushing him away and encouraging him to stand up.
Juno grumbled as he did, unclipping the collar of his harness and peeling it off of himself. Nureyev watched Juno move around the bathroom in all of his naked glory with an appreciative eye as he got out of the tub.
“I have something else for you to wear this evening,” Nureyev said as Juno moved to grab his sweater-dress off the ground, touching his arm lightly and smiling when the detective looked up at him questioningly. “It’s in the closet just inside the room. I’ll meet you at the dinner table.”
Juno blinked up at him, a bit dazed by the gentle commands, and nodded as he returned the smile.
Nureyev watched the detective leave before he turned to the cabinet in the bathroom, where he kept his own outfit for the evening.
It could hardly be called an “outfit,” though.
After seeing Juno in his harness on their first date, Nureyev simply had to get his own, a sleek black and gold number that had straps and the gold detailing all the way down to mid-thigh. The embroidered design decorated his abdomen with a chevron that ended just below his sternum, framing his pelvis along the outside edge of the piercings lining his hips.
Over the harness, Nureyev pulled on a short, sheer black robe which tied shut at the waist with a thick black ribbon. The entire back of the robe was lace and completely see-through, showing off all of the straps of his harness where they hugged his pale skin.
Slipping his glasses back onto his face, Nureyev looked around the room and made a face at the smudges, huffing with some annoyance. He picked his pants up off the floor and dug for the cloth he kept specially for cleaning them, cursing his hoarding tendencies for the first time in his decades-long career. After a few too many moments of struggling, Nureyev made a small sound of triumph when his fingers finally closed around the little scrap of material.
Wiping his glasses clean and putting them back on, he completed the ensemble with a pair of black silk slippers. Then, fixing his braid, Nureyev walked out to the living room to join his lover.
Nureyev was nearly winded at the sight of Juno as he stood by the windows and looked out over Hyperion City in the long, sleeveless robe Nureyev had bought him. The fabric was gauzy and pale pink, sheer enough to see the outline of Juno’s legs through it with the neon of the city shining in on him.
Juno must have heard him and turned around a bit with a warm smile. Nureyev could see a hint of the new harness he procured for Juno through the V of the robe, pink and cream flowers decorating his chest and ending in a pretty collar of flowers at the base of his throat. The robe itself was tied by three delicate ribbons at the thick panel of pink and blue flowery lace just above Juno’s natural waist.
Nureyev wanted nothing more than to untie those little ribbons and devour Juno.
When he finally snapped himself out of his own thoughts, he realized Juno was staring. Their gazes met in the next moment and they both swallowed thickly. Juno’s expression was so beautiful, full of want and love, that Nureyev was ready to forgo every plan he had to leave the next day and stay.
Juno cleared his throat and he glanced away. “The hell do you have such long legs for, Nureyev?” Juno asked, his tone so offended and accusatory that Nureyev couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.
“And why are yours so thick and enticing?” the thief countered, looking pointedly at where he could see Juno’s gorgeous thighs through the opening of his robe.
Juno merely bit the inside of his cheek, and the smirk he wore was tinged with something distinctly pleased.
Nureyev motioned at the table set with their dinner and asked, “Care to join me, dear?”
Juno smirked and crossed the room. “Thought you’d never ask,” he teased and sat down.
Their dinner was quite lovely, filled with casual chatter, laughter, and more than a few glasses of champagne. Juno looked so happy and relaxed across from him, smiling and laughing openly. Nureyev couldn’t help but watch him dreamily as he animatedly told a story from his childhood.
Juno looked so beautiful in the dim, amber lighting of the living room, and Nureyev’s heart ached with the weight of knowing he could not keep him.
Nureyev remembered the pleading “I love you’s” from the sewers as Juno ended his story, and he placed his glass on the table.
“Juno, I distinctly remember I had asked you to accompany me to a gala,” Nureyev started, drawing it out only in part to enjoy the way Juno pouted. “I had done so with the hope that I would have the honour of dancing with you.”
Juno cringed. “Yeah?”
Nureyev nodded and stood, his gut churning with anxiety about what he was about to do for the first time that evening. Offering his hand to Juno, he asked, “May I have this dance?”
“Here?” Juno asked, biting the inside of his cheek. “Now?”
“There’s music, there’s space, and there’s two of us,” Nureyev replied, smiling winningly down at Juno, even as his stomach roiled. He was only comforted a small amount by Juno’s hungry look at his new teeth. “So why not here? Why not now?”
Juno made a face of mock disapproval, but accepted the offered hand and allowed Nureyev to tug him in close. They were hardly dancing, only holding each other and gently rocking, but for Nureyev it was perfect. When he looked down at the detective, he could see tears in Juno’s eyes, belying once again just how much he loved it. It only took a few slow turns for Juno to melt completely against Nureyev with a sigh, resting his ear against the thief’s chest.
They danced together quietly while Nureyev contemplated how best to bring up what he heard in the sewers. He didn’t want to scare Juno off, but Nureyev couldn’t leave Mars without telling the beautiful detective the depths of his own feelings.
“Juno, I wanted to ask you about something,” Nureyev started tentatively, and frowned when Juno tensed in his arms.
“Mm-hmm?” Juno prompted, and Nureyev really wished he’d started this when he could see the detective’s face.
“Well, it’s more I would like to tell you something, but,” he babbled a bit nervously before he took a deep, calming breath that did nothing to help calm him, and said, “I remember hearing you say something in the sewers before I passed out.”
Juno went rigid and pulled back, though they did not pause in their dance. Nureyev’s stomach twisted when he realized that Juno had that unreadable expression on his face that he’d only seen once before.
When he had told him his name and confessed to working for the people who ruined his life.
“You do?” Juno asked, his voice flat and Nureyev realized too late he had brought it up all wrong and began scrambling internally for the words to defuse the situation.
“Yes,” Nureyev said after taking a deep breath. “I was still lucid enough to hear you, when you said you lo—”
“Shit, I didn’t—” Juno hissed, pulling out of the embrace, and Nureyev let him. Then he growled at himself, “Shit, Steel, there you go ruining things again.”
Nureyev stepped forward and gently grabbed Juno’s hand. “Juno, just let me finish—”
Juno wrenched his hand away and looked around the room. His expression was so intensely sad for just a second that Nureyev felt his own eyes prickle with tears. Then the shutters behind Juno’s gaze slammed down, and when Juno’s eyes met his again, he saw anger.
“I always do this, get too attached, too soon and then—” Juno muttered, mostly to himself before cutting off with a bitter laugh and eye-roll. “That’s why you did this, isn’t it?”
“Well, the short answer is yes, Juno, but—”
“All of this, it’s all just a joke. Or I’m an easy lay until you find the next stupid sap on some other stupid planet who’ll spread their legs for you,” Juno spat, but then his expression changed, filling with something like humiliation. “Or worse, you felt bad.”
“Juno, please—” Nureyev began, reaching for the detective again, frustration building in him when Juno stepped away from him. For how intelligent and logical he knew Juno to be most of the time, Nureyev was genuinely surprised by his commitment to jumping to the worst possible conclusions if the truth meant happiness for him.
“That’s it, isn’t it,” Juno cut him off again, and though he worded it like a question, it was spoken as an accusation with such bitter anger that Nureyev almost flinched. “You feel bad for me because I was stupid enough to fall in lo— fall for you in two weeks like some fucking teenager. About what the Piranha said about my ex. About my eye. All of it.”
Nureyev’s thoughts were swirling as he felt everything falling apart. He loved Juno deeply and fully, and he had desperately needed him to know it, but now their last few hours together were unravelling because he tried to say it. He berated himself for his impulsiveness, for jumping the gun and breaking the fragile truce he’d come to with Juno’s sense of self-worth.
He wanted to drop it and ask Juno to forget he had said anything, but the longer Nureyev said nothing, the surer Juno became in his conviction.
Tears brimmed Juno’s eyes when Nureyev met his gaze again for just a moment before he strengthened his glare.
“Admit it, Nureyev,” Juno demanded, crossing his arms over his middle.
Nureyev reached forward to grab Juno’s hand with both of his and held tight when the detective tried to pull it away again. “Juno, I promise—”
“Just admit it, Nureyev!” Juno all but growled, fighting the grip on his hand.
“You won’t even allow me a word in edgewise, Juno, even for that much!” Nureyev snapped, not quite yelling but close to it, and Juno’s mouth shut with an audible click.
Nureyev softened, pulling Juno closer and cradling his jaw gently in one hand while the other wrapped around his waist. He held tight when Juno made a half-hearted attempt at breaking free, and after a few moments Juno’s breath left him in whoosh.
When the detective relaxed almost completely against him, Nureyev felt hopeful that he could turn this evening around for both of them.
“You are so clever, so good, and absolutely gorgeous, Juno,” Nureyev said fondly. “You are also frustratingly committed to self-sabotage, love.”
Juno pulled a face, and he looked almost embarrassed. “What the—”
“No, I’m talking now, detective,” Nureyev said sternly, and Juno instantly closed his mouth again. “Do you truly believe I would do all of this for you as a… a pity fuck?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time, Nureyev,” Juno snapped. “Had a guy almost marry me, and it turned out he only stuck around as long as he did because he felt bad for me.”
Nureyev felt rage wash over him at that, wanting to know the name and last known location of Juno’s former fiance. Perhaps this was information he could get from Benten or Rita before he left, he thought briefly but dismissed it in favour of focusing on the conversation at hand.
“Juno, I would never do that to you,” he said instead, tone gentle and earnest. “This isn’t a pity fuck, I’m not using you, I’m— if you wanted to leave right now, I wouldn’t stop you. You could walk right out that door, and that would be the end of it. You’ll never hear from me again.”
Juno bit the inside of his cheek and glanced around. For a heart-stopping moment, it looked like Juno would actually pull away and get changed. Nureyev was prepared to stand by his promise, but he felt gutted at the mere thought of having to.
Then Juno sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head to lean into Nureyev’s palm, and asked so quietly Nureyev almost couldn’t hear him over the music, “What the hell else is this, then?”
Nureyev lifted his other hand to cradle his face in both, lifting Juno’s gaze to his own again. “I’ve done all of this—the room, the clothes, the dinner—as well as given you my name, Juno, because,” Nureyev paused to take a deep breath, “I believe I’ve fallen in love with you as well.”
Juno sucked in a harsh breath through his nose, a tear falling as he quietly asked, “W-what?”
Nureyev wiped the tear away with this thumb with a gentle smile. “I love you, Juno. I thought that much was obvious since our first night, but I suppose you could benefit from hearing it being said.”
“B-but you— that— you barely know me,” he stammered, trying to look away but Nureyev held fast.
“You know even less about me, Juno,” Nureyev pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Yet you love me?”
“That’s different,” he said stubbornly, and Nureyev’s heart broke.
“How is it different, Juno?” he asked gently. “If you truly believe that, help me to understand it.”
Juno let out a gusty sigh and his eyes teared up even more. Seeing both eyes—one a deep blue and the other murky white—glassy with unshed tears had rage boiling in his gut all over again. He wanted to hurt every single person who taught someone as beautiful, and good, and caring as Juno to feel shame and guilt for being told he was loved.
And suddenly Nureyev understood why Juno couldn’t readily accept his confession; Juno saw himself as inherently unworthy of love and affection while giving himself completely to everyone, hoping they would finally see he had something to offer. That was where it made sense to Juno that he could fall in love with someone he barely knew, but those feelings could not be reciprocated.
“It’s just different,” Juno repeated firmly and with such finality that Nureyev knew he couldn’t push for a proper answer without damaging something between them beyond repair.
So Nureyev stepped closer to Juno instead, their bodies pressed flush together again. “Do you trust me, Juno?” he asked, stroking both of the detective’s cheeks with his thumbs.
“Yes,” Juno said without hesitation.
“Do you trust that I wouldn’t lie about something important?” he asked, and when Juno’s expression twisted, he added, “If we were having any other conversation right now, would you trust I was being honest with all of the important details?”
“Yeah,” Juno answered quietly, almost reluctantly.
“Then allow me to put things into perspective for you,” Nureyev said earnestly, meeting Juno’s gaze and holding it. “You are the first person to have learned my real name with my consent in twenty years.”
Juno took a shaky breath, and though his expression was still sceptical, it was also so soft. Nureyev could see that Juno wanted to believe everything, that he wanted to accept what he was offering, so Nureyev continued.
“Do you think a master thief would have risked courting you the way I had just for fun?” Nureyev asked, and did not wait for Juno to respond before he wrapped an arm around his waist. “I have given you the key to a past I’ve tried to bury, as well as the very thread that could unravel my entire career for the past twenty years.”
Juno looked up at him, his expression unreadable as he lifted a hand to cover Nureyev’s still cradling his cheek.
“Look me in the eye and tell me none of that means anything, Juno,” Nureyev offered, and shivered when Juno closed his eyes and turned his head just enough to press his lips to the middle of his palm. “I wouldn’t give any of that to just anyone, Juno.”
Juno was quiet for what felt like an eternity, his eyes closed and breathing softly against Nureyev’s palm. Eventually, the detective sighed and kissed him gently before turning to meet Nureyev’s gaze.
“You’re about to sign up for one hell of a time trying to convince me, Nureyev,” Juno said lightly, and though it was said as a joke, Nureyev could tell he was also completely serious.
Nureyev smiled broadly and stooped to kiss Juno, sweet and chaste.
“Then I gladly accept that challenge, starting tonight,” Nureyev said against Juno’s lips before kissing his way up his cheek, taking a small detour to press a light kiss just below Juno’s right eye. He finished his journey at the hinge of Juno’s jaw and whispered, “I love you, Juno Steel.”
Juno exhaled sharply and sobbed, angling his mouth up for the searching, needy kiss Nureyev had for him.
“I love you…” Juno whispered when they pulled apart for air, and very quietly, almost reluctantly, he added, “Too. I love you, too.”
The quiet concession, even if it was clear he didn’t quite believe it but was willing to try, made Nureyev’s heart pound and butterflies burst to life in his gut. Just hearing those three words again, this time when he was meant to hear them and he wasn’t knocking on Death’s door, brought tears to Nureyev’s eyes.
It was at that moment when Nureyev realized, or allowed himself to realize, that he hadn’t let himself get close enough to anyone since Mag to be loved. He kept himself unreachable and unknowable for twenty years, leaving Mag as the last person to have said they loved him and meant it.
Several moments of heart-stopping terror followed that revelation, and Nureyev wanted to run from it. He did the calculations instantly; he knew the flight schedule for every ship off of Mars by heart for the next week and a half, and with a good distraction, he could catch one within the hour. His fingers itched for his comms and he instinctively began to slip out of Juno’s arms, pretty words and a prettier lie already on the tip of his tongue.
Juno pulled him in tighter, however, clinging to him as he brought their lips together again, and Nureyev was shaken from his thoughts.
“Shit,” Juno all but sobbed against his lips, laughing wetly as tears fell down his cheeks. “I love you, Nureyev.”
Just like that, Nureyev dumped every contingency plan and escape route he had drawn up. There Juno was, giving him everything he had, and Nureyev was thinking of leaving him with nothing. Master thief though he may be, Nureyev was determined to not become one of the people to steal Juno’s heart. He would make a fair trade for it, give himself to Juno, and share the heartbreak of their parting.
Nureyev recognized the desire to run, to leave and never look back, but he knew that he would never be able to compartmentalize his love for Juno.
At Juno’s shivery whine, Nureyev hauled him up into his arms and groaned when Juno’s legs locked around his waist. With one arm around Juno’s waist, and his other hand holding his thigh, Nureyev stumbled in the direction of the bedroom. Juno’s hands were in his hair, messing his braid up and pulling on the freed strands, and Nureyev couldn’t help the soft, needy sounds he was making. Losing focus and rapidly losing his balance, Nureyev stopped just outside the bedroom, and pinned Juno against the wall next to the double-doors, licking deep into Juno’s mouth while he slid his hand up to grope at his ass.
When Juno turned his face away to catch his breath, Nureyev latched onto his throat, kissing, biting, and licking the length of it, paying extra attention to the underside of his jaw when Juno’s cries grew higher in pitch.
“N’reyev, the bed,” Juno whimpered and Nureyev moaned his agreement into the bruise he had just worried into Juno’s skin.
After a few more stumbling moments and close calls, Nureyev found the bed, which was tall enough that Juno was almost sitting on it already when he let him go. As he stepped back a couple paces, Juno looked up at him with eyes still glassy with unshed tears, but the softest smile Nureyev had ever seen on his face. Juno reached out to hold Nureyev’s hand, as if needing some sort of physical contact and Nureyev could understand.
Stroking the back of Juno’s hand with this thumb, Nureyev asked, “How do you want to spend the rest of our evening, my love?”
With a shiver, Juno shifted onto his knees to undo the belt of Nureyev’s robe and admired the view as it fell open. Nureyev shuddered a bit as the silky material slipped down his arms and pooled around his feet. Juno pressed in for another kiss, wrapping one arm around Nureyev’s shoulders and walking the other down his stomach teasingly.
“Think it’s pretty obvious what I want, Nureyev,” Juno replied cheekily as his fingers reached his lower abdomen.
“Use your words, dear,” Nureyev scolded lightly, grabbing Juno’s wrist gently. “Or you get nothing at all.”
Juno huffed, but it had no heat to it. Nureyev did not doubt that Juno was a bit frustrated—used to being tipped over and tumbled without ceremony as he was—but he also knew Juno thoroughly enjoyed being told what to do.
“Do I have to do this every time?” Juno asked with a pout.
“With me?” Nureyev replied with a chuckle, stooping to kiss Juno’s cheek. “Yes.”
Juno shivered and nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek before he pressed up against Nureyev, both arms around his shoulders as he untied the ribbon holding Nureyev’s braid together.
“I-I want you to fuck me into this mattress until the neighbours complain,” Juno whispered in a bit of a rush, and Nureyev’s breath hitched.
“The sound-proofing in this hotel is almost absolute, dear detective,” Nureyev responded huskily.
Juno laughed lightly before looking up at Nureyev coyly through his lashes. “I’m sure it is,” he said softly and deliberately.
Nureyev groaned and recaptured Juno’s lips, bringing both hands up to cradle the back of his head and keep him there while he kissed the breath from his lungs.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Nureyev all but growled between kisses and swallowed Juno’s excited laugh.
- - - - -
Nureyev worked to catch his breath, his arm slung around Juno’s waist so he could run his hand up and down his back soothingly. Occasionally, he would sweep his palm further to massage the muscled thigh thrown over his hip.
“Are you okay, love?” Nureyev asked around a yawn when Juno stretched with a bit of a pained sound.
“Yeah, I’m golden,” Juno said softly with a dreamy sigh, nuzzling his forehead against Nureyev’s chest before meeting his gaze with a blissed-out smile. “I’m perfect.”
“I’m glad to hear it, my love,” Nureyev hummed, stealing a chaste kiss from Juno before saying, “We should wash up before bed, though.”
Juno groaned and snuggled in closer, shaking his head with a little hmph. “Don’wanna,” he mumbled petulantly.
Nureyev laughed, just as disinterested in the prospect of getting up, but there were some general hygiene items they needed to take care of. “Come along, love, up we get,” Nureyev said, sitting up and giving Juno’s ass a sharp slap.
“Babe, if you want me out of this bed, you better knock that off,” Juno teased with a sexy sprawl, but the effect was lost when he yawned hugely.
“No offense, dear, but I don’t think either of us have the stamina to make good on any threats like that,” Nureyev laughed, and eventually dragged Juno out of the bed and into the ensuite.
The shower stall was ridiculous in its size, and set in the bathroom so one of it’s walls was just windows. The windows in the shower weren’t quite floor to ceiling, and had a tiled ledge that was about half a foot tall. There was also a safety bar that travelled along the window. The spray of the shower came from a fixture right above them, the water coming down like a perfect, warm rain. It reminded Nureyev of a rain storm he had found himself caught in the one time he had gone to earth, and Juno hummed thoughtfully when he told him as much.
Neither of them was particularly keen on turning on the lights, so they showered by the lights of the city coming through the window. Juno was looking down at Hyperion City, his city, with his hands resting on the safety bar while Nureyev lathered up a plush washcloth and began wiping his body down.
Standing flush behind Juno, Nureyev wrapped an arm around his shoulder and chest, holding him tenderly as he washed his stomach and lower. With a contented hum, he pressed a kiss to the hinge of Juno’s jaw and frowned when the detective sighed a touch too wistful for Nureyev’s comfort.
“What’s on your mind, my love?” he asked before mouthing at Juno’s throat.
“What if you could stay?” Juno asked, his tone flat but curious.
Nureyev hesitated a moment before asking, “Do you want me to answer that?”
“Yeah,” he replied after a thoughtful hum. “The honest one.”
“That would be the only one I would give you, dear detective. You’re too important and too smart for any of the others,” Nureyev sighed, and he couldn’t help the teasingly bitter tone out of his voice.
“Yeah, yeah,” Juno snorted, and Nureyev could hear the eye-roll. “You’re deflecting.”
“We would be happy for a bit, I think— No, I know we would be happy, at first that is. Then I would get bored,” he confessed in a sigh against Juno’s ear, and when he felt Juno tense in his arms, he added quickly, “Not of you, my love. Never of you. But I would go mad sitting still. Doing busywork.”
Juno chuckled, as if laughing at some private joke, but the humour didn’t quite reach it.
“Like a caged fox. Or something,” Juno supplied, and leaned his forehead against the glass.
“Exactly,” Nureyev replied quietly, a sad smile of his own twisting his mouth. “And if you could come with me?”
Though he couldn’t see Juno’s face completely, Nureyev could tell there were tears in his eyes with the way he bit his lower lip.
“I… I would be miserable without Benten and Rita,” he admitted, his voice watery. He lifted his hand to wipe a tear that fell away and Nureyev’s heart broke. “I don’t think I’d be happy without them at all, even in the beginning. I’m sorry—”
Nureyev turned Juno around and kissed him soundly, sighing when Juno opened for him readily. There was no way to measure who would hurt the most when it came time for Nureyev to leave, the one who could stay and would hate it, or the one who could leave but would suffer. But they didn’t have to think about that tonight.
Nureyev just wished they didn’t have to think about it at all.
“Don’t apologize, Juno,” Nureyev whispered when he pulled back to finish washing them up. “I understand.”
A short time later, they slipped back into the bed, still damp and naked from their shower. Nureyev propped himself over Juno, kissing him breathless with lazy and slow motions. With a contented noise, Juno kissed his way to the line of Nureyev’s jaw, lips pausing over the raised line of the new scar there. Nureyev shivered a bit when Juno pressed his fingers against his chest, gently feeling the jagged lines before sliding down to press his whole palm to the burn on his abdomen.
When he didn’t move his hand any further, Nureyev pulled back to look at Juno’s face.
Juno was thoughtful, looking down at the lines of his scars, stroking the burn gently with a furrowed brow. Nureyev reached up to brush his thumb across Juno’s cheekbone, below his blinded eye. The detective almost flinched away as if the touch burned before he settled and leaned into the touch.
“What are you thinking about, love?” Nureyev asked, dropping a soft kiss just below his eye.
Juno shivered under the gentle affection with a little sigh. “Are you going to get your scars reduced?” Juno asked after a bit, scrunching his face up adorably when Nureyev moved his lips to the scar on the bridge of his nose.
“Why would I?” Nureyev asked, pulling back and meeting Juno’s gaze.
The detective shrugged, glancing away and chewing his cheek. “Your whole anonymity thing?” Juno offered in a quiet mumble. There was obviously more to that thought, but Nureyev wouldn’t pry.
“Going under for surgery is risky, so I typically avoid doing so outside of emergencies,” Nureyev replied with a small smile. “I’ll simply cover them as needed if I must.”
Juno hummed at that, nodding and moved his gaze away to look at the jagged lines that criss-crossed his throat.
“Besides,” Nureyev continued, lowering himself to lay his full weight against Juno, his legs straddling his thick thighs. He gave Juno’s eye another soft kiss, and said, “I find scars to be quite… sexy.”
“Of course, you do,” Juno said with a snort.
“I do,” Nureyev replied seriously, figuring Juno didn’t have to know how much he hated the scars at the moment, and coaxed Juno into a searching kiss.
Juno didn’t respond as readily as he had expected, so Nureyev pulled back and met his eyes again. The detective was still pensive and even a bit sceptical, which was far too serious for Nureyev’s liking.
“Juno, darling,” he prompted gently. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”
“No, you didn’t say anything wrong, just thinking,” Juno said almost flippantly, but he seemed to realize he was dismissing and deflecting. With a sigh he said, “I don’t… believe you when you say the scars don’t bother you, but that’s not— You didn’t— I get it, if you didn’t like them. They’re ugly—”
“They’re not ugly,” Nureyev interrupted firmly, and Juno glared a bit up at him. “If we’re to have these sorts of talks, dear, we should keep this… negative self-talk to a minimum.”
Juno snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” Juno conceded and took a deep breath. “My ex wanted me to get mine fixed, or reduced, or whatever. He was really pushy about it, and wanted me to get a fake eye, too. Even just a basic glass one. Nothing fancy.”
“But you didn’t,” Nureyev encouraged.
“Well, obviously. I didn’t want to spend Pereyra’s hush money, and I just… didn’t want another surgery,” Juno said quietly. “I didn’t really get that it was such a big deal for him until he— until I ended things. Or, when he left.”
“Do you know why it was such a big issue with him?” Nureyev asked, even as he planned the very painful way he would dispatch the bastard. When Juno raised his eyebrow at him sceptically, it hit him instantly.
Juno had looked like Benten, until he lost his eye.
“It’s the past, and it should stay there,” Juno replied eventually, and hummed when Nureyev drew him into a gentle press of lips.
“I will be honest with you, Juno; I hate my scars, as they are right now,” Nureyev confessed when he pulled away, smiling weakly at Juno’s curious expression. “Perhaps once they’re less fresh, I will find them more tolerable, but I was considering covering them up before meeting with you tonight.”
“Why didn’t you?” Juno asked.
“Because of you, honestly,” Nureyev said, smiling openly at Juno. “I thought of you, and how beautiful I believe you to be, and your scars are part of that.”
“Jeez, Nureyev,” Juno huffed, glancing away bashfully and chewing the inside of his cheek. “You’re laying it on pretty thick.”
“All of it is the truth, my love,” Nureyev sighed with a grin. “I just can’t believe no one else had figured it out as well.”
“Well,” Juno started with a shrug, “I got you out of it, didn’t I?”
“I was avoiding celebrating decades of people being incredibly stupid and cruel to you, dear,” he chastised lightly, pulling a laugh from Juno.
“Go ahead and celebrate. I mean, I am,” Juno said, accepting another kiss with a quiet moan.
“Are you?” Nureyev asked teasingly, their lips still pressed tightly together.
“Little bit,” Juno sighed and Nureyev laughed, deepening the kiss.
Nureyev kept it up until Juno began faltering in returning the kisses, his eyes fluttering shut. The detective would shake himself awake every time his mouth fell slack under Nureyev’s, returning the kisses with renewed fervor and enthusiasm, hands finding their way into his hair to ground himself.
Eventually though, when Juno drifted off, Nureyev pulled away and let him sleep.
Nureyev laid next to Juno for a while, watching the love of his life sleep peacefully, partially lit up by the city beyond the windows. The next day, he knew he would have to leave, but he thanked every entity from every planet orbiting every star that must have answered whatever secret prayer he had whispered.
Juno Steel was such a gift he didn’t deserve, it had to have been divine intervention.
With a sigh and one last chaste kiss to Juno’s cheek, Nureyev lowered his head to his own pillow and quickly drifted off to sleep as well.
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littlespoonevan · 5 years ago
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God, and they GET TO have those stupid, imperfect, sloppy, too-much-smiling, talking kisses... Because they don't have to treat every kiss like it's a Huge Thing anymore. It doesn't have to be like every kiss night be their last. Do you think they have had a silly night just sharing touches and kissing each other like that... Since... The sleepover, even?!
listen, i think i wrote ian mentioning this in a fic once bc, i’m gonna be honest, i literally forgot how 3x05 ended, but let’s assume the kids weren’t taken out of the gallagher house until the next morning bc my favourite headcanon in the world is that after mickey’s been patched up he can’t really walk yet so he ends up camped out on the gallagher couch, stuck on his stomach and after everyone’s left/gone to bed ian sneaks back downstairs and they talk (about ian’s fears of his siblings being split up) and joke around (about how ridiculous it is that mickey got shot by an old lady) and then their laughter kind of peters out and ian is sitting on the floor next to the couch by mickey’s head and their faces are so close together and he thinks about earlier that day and he knows if he asks about it mickey will close off but right now mickey’s got this drowsy, comfortable smile on his face and ian just. leans in and kisses him. and keeps kissing him over and over again and it can’t go any further bc mickey’s out of commission for at least the night so they just spend hours learning each other’s mouths and what feels nice and what makes the other React and both of them have so many butterflies in their stomach by the end they legit feel like they’re going to burst. and about 10 mins before the whole house wakes up ian gives mickey one last kiss and they share an bashful, embarrassed smile and mickey maybe mumbles, “get some fucking sleep, firecrotch” and for the first time ever, they both think to themselves that this maybe, really feels a lot like love :’)
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hongism · 5 years ago
Text
not your typical flower shop story chapter two
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Flower Shop Owner!Taehyung, College!Reader, College!Taehyung, Fluff, Angst, Future Smut
Word Count: 6055
Rating: M
Warnings: mild language
Summary: You always goes to the cute boy next door’s flower shop across the street because hi yes he’s the cutest damn person you’ve ever seen, until one day a guy with tattoos and a severe obsession with the color black shows up in the shop asking for the ‘usual’ and you find out that your cute innocent little flower boy has a dirty little secret.
A/N: okay tbh i didn’t write an outline for this so i just wrote whatever to my mind and let the story take me where it wanted to go. I’m hugely overwhelmed by the support you guys have given to the first part! and hahahahahhaahahh yoongi isn’t a bad boy whOOPS, i wanted to kinda break that stereotype and throw you for a loop lol. And I’m super excited to see where it goes! I am bumping the rating up, because i kinda expect it to get more mature as it progresses and possibly have future smut but??? I’m anxious about that bc i’ve never written smut askfskdjf we will see where it goes!! Onto the story~
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"Here's some hot tea. I don't know if you like that kind of thing. Um, it's peppermint flavored." Taehyung passes a steaming mug your way, but you don't reach out to accept it. You refuse to look in his direction in fact and opt to pull the wool blanket draped around your shoulders closer to your body as though it will take the coldness out of your skin. Taehyung sighs and sets the mug on the coffee table before you. "Y/N..." He trails off without finishing whatever train of thought he had, and instead moves to sit on the couch beside the chair where you sit.
Wood squeaks, protesting against movement that does not belong to Taehyung, but rather Yoongi, who occupies the chair directly across from yours. You lift your gaze to look him in the eye. The furrow of his brows shows the evident concern that both him and Taehyung must be feeling, but too much is running through your system at the moment and you can't bring yourself to care all too much.
The events that followed your text are still a blur, and you aren't sure the memories will ever return to you.
read
That small, supposedly insignificant word remains emblazoned at the forefront of your thoughts. How are you supposed to focus on whatever was happening outside the shock of seeing that word beside your texts after going so long without it? To put it simply: you aren't, and you won't.
You blink at the coffee table, looking past the steaming mug of tea Taehyung set down and towards the identical black objects a bit further down.
"You have a gun," you say at last, eyes fluttering shut as reality slowly settles in.
"Y/N, I can ex—” 
"I must be dreaming. Or losing my mind. Maybe this is all a hallucination, and I've finally lost it."
"I know this is a lot to handle, and I'm truly sorry for putting you in a position where you could have been hurt." Taehyung scoots forward and tries to lessen the distance between the two of you, but you lean away from him in response. "I can explain."
"Explain what? The boy across the street who sells flowers for a living — and is my neighbor — has a gun on his coffee table. Not only that, he brought said gun to dinner with me. Then there was an armed robbery at the diner, and I had to text your "friend" in code." You shake your head as you speak, unable to process the words yourself. "You're a drug dealer. My neighbor is a drug dealer."
"I'm not a drug dealer!" Taehyung protests.
"Part of the mafia? A gang? Nothing else explains why you would carry a gun, talk in code with your supposed friend, and talk about drugs in your texts!"
"That's not—it wasn't—I have an explanation." Taehyung stands up and brings his hands to his face as though pleading you to hear him out.
"I'm gonna die."
"What? No! Why would you think that?"
"You're gonna kill me to keep me quiet," you reason. "I can't do this."
"No—Y/N, no one is going to kill you." Yoongi cuts into the conversation, pulling your attention off Taehyung with his raspy tone. You press your lips together. "Taehyung, let me explain."
"I'm the one who got her into this mess though! I should be the one to explain," Taehyung argues. He falls back onto the couch, arms falling to the cushions, and heaves a deep sigh.
"It's not your fault that robber came into the diner tonight. There is no way you could've known that was going to happen, okay? Listen: you need a breather as much as Y/N does, so let me explain what's going on."
"Okay, okay." Taehyung relents, and his eyes find you again. You look straight ahead though, chin a bit dipped, and stare at the black combat boots that came to the table you were crouched under at the diner and the pale hands that pulled you out from under it to tell you that it was over.
The faint scent of cinnamon touches your nose as you sniffle, and you acknowledge the smell for the first time since coming to Taehyung's apartment. Warm. Cozy. Safe. Except you are anything but safe right now, and nothing about this situation feels comfortable or warm.
"Y/N, Taehyung is not part of the mafia or anything like that. Neither am I. We aren't drug dealers either, and there are no gangs. It's just a concealed handgun—” 
"That's not legal here though," you interrupt. Another surge of panic rushes through you at the idea of being involved in something illegal. That could mean that I won't be able to visit the hospital anymore, even if it is just the front lobby. Maybe they'll kick me out of university too. Fire me from my job. Then what? I can't pay the medical bills if that happens. I'm fucked.
"You really aren't making this easy, Y/N." Yoongi rubs his forehand, exposing the pale skin under his jacket, and you spot more black ink across it.
"Well, I'm sorry but how in the hell is any part of this situation supposed to be easy?"
"Okay. Fine. I am going to give you two options then. The first: drink the tea and regain your strength, then go back to your apartment and act like this never happened. The second—” 
"Done," you say before Yoongi can finishing explaining anything else. You jolt forward and snatch the mug from the table. The liquid burns your tongue and tastes like fire as it goes down your throat, but none of that is important in the moment. You just want to get out of here. Away from Taehyung, away from Yoongi, and away from the guns. The table trembles when you slam the mug back down against the surface. Both Taehyung and Yoongi wear similar expressions of wide eyes and dropped jaws. "Thanks for the tea, and thanks for saving my life I guess. I'll be leaving now." You hop up from the chair, blanket falling off your shoulders as you do, and head for the door without sparing either man another glance.
Then you're out the door and moving towards your own apartment with uncertain steps and weak knees.
I don't want to know, you tell yourself as you fumble with your keys and struggle to get the door unlocked. I don't need to know. Whatever the hell Taehyung is doing does not matter to me. It doesn't involve me. The less I know the better. You burst into your apartment, and the door slams against the wall hard enough to leave another dent in the plaster. It truly is in your best interest to walk away from Taehyung and Yoongi, ignore them and whatever insane life they're living, and focus on yourself. You don't need flowers anymore.
Hifumi is right. I shouldn't be wasting my money on flowers anyways. I should be saving the money for the medical bills. I should focus more on my studies.
The abrupt scream that leaves your lips surprises you. You aren't sure why the noise escapes — maybe the frustration and panic surrounding your situation or the realization that someone is reading your messages now of all times. Why now? I didn't get any calls from the hospital, they didn't give me any updates, so why? Why is this happening? Why tonight?
Knocking interrupts your train of thought, and the force behind it is so strong that you fear whoever is behind is may break the door. Your heart feels like it's beating in time with the rapid knocks. As you stand in the dark, part of you wants the night to be over and for you to wake up to find that it was all a dream. The other part panics because who the hell would be knocking at your door at this hour? Was it the robber from the diner? Did he follow you back here? Or maybe someone else is here to kill you.
"Y/N, open the damn door!" Taehyung, it's Taehyung's voice. Thank goodness. You stumble towards the door, and in your moment of panic, you forget about your intentions of putting Taehyung out of your life. Twisting the handle, you pull the door open to reveal Taehyung's face behind it. He pushes past you and into the apartment, leaving you to look at Yoongi, who stood hidden behind Taehyung.
"Are you alright?" Yoongi inquires. He stretches an arm out to touch your shoulder, but you shy away from his grasp.
"I'm fine. What's the problem?"
Taehyung rushes around your apartment, scouting out every corner and crevice in sight, and once everything is searched to his liking, he stops to look at you.
"Is someone here? Did something happen? Why did you scream?" He interrogates. You glance down at his hand, spotting the black outline of a gun in his grasp. When you turn back to Yoongi, you spot the same object tucked into the waistband of his pants.
"Di-Did you think—” you stop yourself as the lingering contents in your stomach churn. "No one is here. I'm alone." Why did he have to mention that? What if someone really is here? Dammit there's no way in hell I'll be able to sleep tonight.
"We heard you scream. I thought something happened," Taehyung explains. He tucks the gun behind his back, no doubt placing it in his waistband as Yoongi did. "Y/N, I know you would rather put this out of sight and out of mind. That's fine with me. If you really want to do that, then I won't stop you. Please, though, please stay at my apartment tonight. I need the peace of mind. It's the last thing you have to do for me, and after tonight, we don't ever have to talk again." You fold your arms over your chest. The plea sinks into your skin, and you stand in contemplation of the possibilities as Taehyung waits for your answer with bated breath. No. At least, that is what you ought to say. The puppy dog eyes — those damn puppy dog eyes — are present. How can I say no when he's looking at me like that?
"I—look, you're right next door. Isn't that safe enough for you? Even if it's not, why can't you just stay in my living room? Why do I have to go over to your apartment?" Arms fall to your sides, and you blink at Taehyung. He sighs, fingers coming up to tug at his loose hair, then looks behind you.
"My apartment is safer, Y/N."
"What? Do you have iron bars over the bedroom windows or something?" The man stays quiet in the face of your accusation, exchanging a glance with Yoongi.  "Oh my gosh, you have got to be kidding me. Taehyung, is that even allowed here?"
"Can we ignore that for now?"
"Fine, fine! Just let me change clothes, okay?" You sigh and scoot past him to get to your bedroom. Taehyung prevents you from making it to the door, taking quick steps to reach the wood before you do.
"What if someone is in there? Let me go first. I'll check it out." He jiggles the handle to no avail because you locked the door before leaving this afternoon. Without a word, he finds you with his eyes and waits. The sigh that leaves your lips is a long one, and after that, you unlock the door for him and pray that your room is in a decent enough condition to be seen. Then again, if someone really is in your room, then they've already seen the disaster inside so you shouldn't care all too much. Taehyung bursts into your bedroom with gun in hand, and you nearly scream at the suddenness of his action. The ease and fluidity of his actions shows that this is something he has done before, and he's done it enough times to be comfortable with it. If your heart could plummet any further in dread, it would. After everything that has happened this evening though, you think it's safe to say that you've reached your limit for dread and panic for the rest of the month.
"If it makes you feel any better, he's like this all the time." Yoongi appears at your side. You don't hear him approach, and the darkness in your apartment makes him blend in a bit too much for your liking since he's wearing an obscene amount of black. You jump, hand coming to your chest when he speaks. His eyes widen at your reaction, then fall to a relaxed state again after a moment. "Sorry, I do that a lot."
"I don't wanna know," you claim. Yoongi sends an indiscernible look your way, and you have to remind yourself that it's the truth even though there is curiosity in you that truly does want to know what the hell is going on with Taehyung. "I just want to go to bed and wake up tomorrow as though this didn't happen."
"Is that how you handle all your problems?" Yoongi asks as he watches Taehyung analyze every inch of your bedroom.
"It's the best way to handle problems," you counter. Heat rises on your cheeks, and you begin to feel a bit sheepish for acting so dramatic.
"Really? Let me know how that works out for you in the long run."
"I won't because this is the last time we'll be seeing each other." Again, Yoongi looks at you, and this time a smirk plays at his lips.
"Okay, Y/N."
"Hey, the violets look really nice!" Taehyung's voice cuts through your conversation. He grins at you from the doorway of your bedroom, the boxy smile seeming out of place alongside the gun in his hand. He tucks the weapon back into his waistband, then says, "It looks safe though, so you can go ahead and get whatever you need for the night."
"Oh, uh, thanks." You slide past him to get into your room, glad to see that it isn't as much of a mess as you thought it was. "Can you give me a few minutes? To use the bathroom and stuff?" Taehyung nods and hastily steps back into the living room alongside Yoongi. Shutting the door in their faces feels awkward but the moment of privacy makes it worth it. You head for the bathroom but once you get there, you sit on the floor to stare at your phone, the message you sent earlier still bearing the small insignificant word next to the block of text.
It can't be him. There's no way. The hospital would've called. Someone must have stolen the phone.
You force your shaking fingers to type out another message.
from y/n, 10:49 p.m. unread
   - who is reading my messages? why? what do you want? why do you have this phone?
from y/n, 10:49 p.m. unread
   - i know you can't be the actual owner of the phone because i would know if you were. answer me before the morning or i will call the cops.
Breathe, just breathe, Y/N. You place your phone back in your lap. The amount of time you have left before Taehyung starts to panic and think that someone snatched you from the apartment is dwindling, so you pull yourself to your feet and leave the bathroom. It's cold when you step back into your bedroom, but you like it that way typically, so you shouldn't complain. Tonight, however, it doesn't feel right; nothing does. The air filling your lungs, the cold touching your skin, the methodical rhythm of your heart straining against the confines of your rib cage.
You strip down to your undergarments slowly, peeling each layer away one by one, then you remain in the center of your room. Standing. Thinking. Wondering what the hell happened tonight still because you can't wrap your brain around it. The fan above your head is quiet, so quiet that you can hear Taehyung's voice through the wood of your door.
"She's taking too long, Yoongi."
"Leave her be for a few, Tae. I'm sure she's fine."
"What are we gonna tell the others?"
"Nothing for now. Eventually you'll have to say that you screwed up tonight."
"I screwed up? What the hell did I do?"
"You know the rules! You should've kept your ass in that booth and messaged Tower instead." Tower? Who in the hell… 
"I couldn't do that. Y/N looked way too terrified for me to just sit there and wait for Tower to get off his ass for once."
"Hey, keep it down. She might be able to…” Yoongi's voice dies down and even as you press your ear to the door, you can't hear whatever they're saying anymore.
"I knew it," you mutter under your breath. "It's some sort of drug cartel or the mafia or a gang. Oh my gosh, one of my neighbors is a stripper and the other is a criminal. What the hell?" You are vaguely aware of the fact that you are standing in nothing but a bra and underwear while pressed against your door -- and it isn't hot and sexy in any kind of way because you're alone. The main struggle of this whole night is coping with the fact that your messages say "read" and there is no explanation as to why. Until now actually, because your phone buzzes on your bed, a ding resounds through the room, and you lunge for the device without thinking twice.
from y/n, 10:49 p.m. read
   - who is reading my messages? why? what do you want? why do you have this phone?
from y/n, 10:49 p.m. read
   - i know you can't be the actual owner of the phone because i would know if you were. answer me before the morning or i will call the cops.
"Okay, okay, okay. Y/N, don't panic. Just breathe." You let the device fall to the mattress again. Yet there is still a tremble in your hands as you pull a fresh set of clothes out of your dresser. Your knees still feel weak when you press your legs through the holes of the pants, and a distinct pain lingers in your chest. You wish you were numb, or that the cold would sever this feeling from your body.
No buzz emits from your phone again. You leave your bedroom, bearing sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. If the night's events had not occurred maybe you would be more concerned about the way you look in front of the cute innocent flower boy that is Taehyung. Correction — that was Taehyung, because he no longer holds that image in your mind.
He and Yoongi have moved to your kitchen counter, where one stands on either side of the counter and exchange hushed whispers. The sound of your door opening does not divert their attention, so you clear your throat albeit a bit awkwardly because intruding on such a seemingly serious conversation does not feel right.
"I, uh, I'm ready whenever you are." You shift your weight from foot to foot and stretch your arms away from your sides. The image resembles something a young child would do to get the attention of her parents. You feel like at child too, because of the way you are being coddled and protected by Taehyung and Yoongi. The focus doesn't stay on either man for long as your phone buzzes in your hand. Taehyung speaks but the words go in one ear and out the other as you read the message you just received.
from jimin, 11:05 p.m. read
   - now that's not very fair, is it Y/N?
“Now that wasn’t very fair, was it, Y/N? C’mon, you gotta play fair!”
“I am! I haven’t done anything unfair. You’re the one who is supposed to be good at games, aren’t you?”
You stumble on thin air, grabbing hold of the door frame behind you to steady your wavering balance, and Taehyung stops talking at the sight of your blunder. Shit. Dammit. What the hell? There's no way…what the hell is going on?
"Y/N? Y/N! Hey, are you okay?" Taehyung's shouts grow increasingly louder as he gets closer to you.
"I'm fine," you hiss through gritted teeth. Gripping the wood tighter, you steady yourself and hold out your free hand to deter Taehyung from coming any closer. He pauses at the end of your hand, eyes lingering on the tips of your fingers then travelling up to your face. "I'm feeling a bit lightheaded from everything that's happened tonight."
"Come on, you can lay down as soon as we get back to my apartment." Taehyung wraps his fingers around the hand that you have extended. The warmth from his hand almost burns your cold fingers. He tugs you away from the door frame, and you lose your grip on it, knees locking as the support leaves you, but you manage to stay upright.
"I-I need to lock the door, Taehyung," you say when he pulls you into the hallway. You hold your keys out to prove your point, and Taehyung snatches them out of your hand before you can blink. He tosses them to Yoongi as he steps out to join the two of you in the hallway.
"And I need to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His features soften a bit as he looks down at you, a breathy sigh leaving his parted lips. "I feel responsible for what happened tonight. It's my fault for putting you in a position where you could be hurt, and it's my fault for letting you get this involved with things you're too good for. I'm sorry." The warmth of his hand leaves you, and the cold rushes back. You have to stop yourself from chasing the warmth of his touch.
"You couldn't have known that was going to happen," you argue.
"You really think so?" Taehyung's voice holds a melancholy thickness in it, and although he has his back turned to you now, you can picture the puppy dog eyes.
"Taehy—” 
"I could've picked any other place and this wouldn't have happened."
"That can't change anything now, Taehyung. As upset as I am, I still want you to know that I don't blame you for anything that happened. There's no way you could've known."
"That's where you're wrong, Y/N. I should have known, and I should've said no to you when you asked to get dinner because I know how dangerous it is to know a person like me." Taehyung won't look at you as he speaks. You follow him into his apartment again, the warmth scent of cinnamon hitting your nose once more. Yoongi follows close behind, your keys hooked on his index finger and jingling as he twirls them around, and he snaps the door shut. "Yoongi has the right idea. You ought to act like this never happened after tonight, because that's the best way for you to be safe. I promise that I won't bring you into anything ever again. You should avoid coming to the flower shop too. There are other places to get bouquets if you still want them, but I don't think it's smart for you to keep coming to me when you don't trust me and I'm dangerous."
"I know," you mutter. "That's my plan." Taehyung shifts from foot to foot, then turns to face you.
"Good. Yea…that's good."
The clinking sound behind you ceases.
"I'm getting a call," Yoongi announces, clearing his throat before he speaks. "I'll be right back, Char—Tae." He stumbles on the name, the first syllable spilling out awkwardly before he rushes to correct himself. You don't bother looking in Yoongi's direction, instead focusing on the flash of panic that flashes through Taehyung's brown eyes. He notices your stare lingering.
"Uh, come on, I'll show you my room." He motions for you to follow him and leads the way to his room. "I'm sorry if it's a bit messy. I wasn't really expecting…well, never mind." Taehyung opens the door to a dark room, one with blue painted walls and a pale carpet spread across the wood floor. The room illuminates as Taehyung flicks the light switch on. A bit messy, no. It's not that, and you couldn't call it that even if you were being nice. The mess starts near the front door, a pile of clothes beside the entrance, and it continues to the bed where the sheets are pulled back and almost tugged off the mattress. A pile of papers scatter haphazardly on his desk, crumpled up balls of paper fall from the surface to the floor, missing the trash bin only a few feet away. Across the window, sure enough, lie five rows of iron bars, the handiwork obviously belonging to someone who isn't an engineer or architect by any means. You decide not to comment and pass a smile Taehyung's way instead.
"Don't worry about it," you say.
"Do you need anything?"
"No."
"O-Oh, okay, well — uh just let me know if you do. I'll be right outside."
"Okay."
Taehyung glances over the mess again, and you see the internal debate etched across his features. He must talk himself out of picking anything up because he spins on his heel and steps out of the room, leaving you to stand alone. The two of you stare at each other. His grip tightens around the door knob. The tension hanging in the air thickens.
"Taeh—” 
"Y/N—” 
You speak at the same time. If the tension didn't exist, maybe both of you would laugh and urge each other to go ahead and speak first. Neither of you say anything though, voices dying in your throats. Taehyung pulls the door shut after a quiet apology, and you blink at the wood in shock.
"Oh." The sigh leaves your lips, a rush of air that feels warm against your cold mouth, and you turn away from the door. Sitting on the bed leaves a strange sensation in your gut, one that tells you that you don't belong here, this isn't your home, and even with the iron bars and Taehyung's promise of safety, you don't feel safe here. You're typing away at your phone in a frenzy now, mind reeling more and more as the night continues.
from y/n, 11:26 p.m. unread
    - i know you aren't really him, because the hospital would've told me if anything happened. so quit playing games and tell me who you really are.
What happened that night...you don't want to relive any of those memories, and perhaps you can use that as your excuse as to why you never visited his room in the hospital. Facing the consequences of your mistakes and decisions would be far too difficult for you to handle. Besides, as you told Yoongi earlier, the best way to deal with your problems is to run away from them. Leaving a vase of flowers in the lobby with instructions on which room to deliver them to was enough. It is enough. You won't change your mind on that decision.
A series of soft knocks touch the door and your ears at the same time, and you look up from your lap. It opens without your permission, and you half expect Taehyung to step through, a rectangular grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. Maybe he would start talking about violets again, or go on about which flowers do best this time of year. But no, you have no such luck, because it's Yoongi who steps in with another steaming mug in his hands.
"More tea from Taehyung. He didn't want to bother you anymore though." Yoongi lifts the mug as he walks closer to the bed. The scent of peppermint mixes with cinnamon, and you wrinkle your nose. If Yoongi notices, he doesn't mention it; instead, he places the mug on Taehyung's bedside table beside a couple balled up pieces of paper. "You know," he says, "I don't blame you for wanting to run away from this situation."
"Who says I'm running away?"
"Oh, my bad. Isn't that how you deal with your problems?"
"It's not running away," you hiss back, glaring up at the leather clad man before you. He tilts his head, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth up.
"No need to get feisty."
"Don't act like you know me. We met only a few hours ago."
"Don't act like I haven't heard of you before today." Yoongi leans forward, bending at the waist to be eye level with you. "Taehyung is chatty, you know." You bite the tip of your tongue hard enough to draw blood, and Yoongi chuckles.
"What exactly do you want?" You ask.
"Nothing." You frown at the response, disbelief evident in your expression. "Alright kid, scoot over so I can sit."
"Um, kid?"
"You're a university student, so you must be younger than me."
"Aren't you the same year as Taehyung?"
"No, I graduated five years ago."
"W-What? But Taehyung said—” 
"He lied." Yoongi cuts you off, pushing the haphazard bed sheets around to make a spot to sit.
"What else did he lie about?" You mutter the question more to yourself than to Yoongi, but he responds anyways. The mattress creaks under the added weight, and you subconsciously shuffle away from him and move closer to the pillows at the head of the bed.
"He's not a bad person, Y/N. That's probably the only thing he's lied about."
"Except for his profession."
"Has he really lied about that? Think about it, Y/N. What do you know about him?"
"I thought I knew he was a university student who runs a flower shop."
"And both those things are true, aren't they?"
"But--"
"Have you ever asked if Taehyung does anything else on the side? Any other jobs? Hobbies? Commitments?"
"We-Well, no…” Yoongi lets that information sink in while you refuse to look his way, gnawing on the edge of your lip with a bit too much enthusiasm.
"What are you trying to blame him for?" The question stops you in your tracks.
What am I trying to blame him for? Nothing. I have no reason to blame him. And I'm not blaming him anyways, I'm just upset that he withheld that information, right? Isn't that what I'm upset about? Nearly dying, receiving texts from someone who shouldn't… 
Tears prick the corners of your eyes.
Freezing. Being unable to move. Crawling under the table in the diner. Crying. Puking. I'm upset that I didn't do anything. I'm upset that I couldn't do anything, not once but twice.
"I'm not trying to blame him for anything," you claim. There is a slight tremble in your tone, a quiet shakiness that Yoongi no doubt detects, but again, he does not comment on it. "I'm not."
"I understand that you don't want to know anything about our...profession, but I'll tell you one thing. We don't do the things we do out of enjoyment. It's out of necessity. A need. Whatever that may be: a job, money, help, something to bring home to family, a means of protection for a loved one. We do what we have to."
"I don't understand," you whisper. Glancing out the corner of your eye, you spot the resigned expression across Yoongi's delicate features.
"Take me for example. I don't enjoy the dirty parts of my job. Things like what happened tonight though? I know I helped Taehyung, and that's what is important to me. I know that the money I earn goes to paying for my younger brother's education. It keeps him from ever having to step in the muddy water I live in. Even if one day he learns what I do and calls me evil, I know that I've done what I can to keep him good." Yoongi stands up all the sudden, groaning along with the bed that squeaks in relief from the extra weight. "Take that as food for thought, Y/N, before you put us down for what we do."
The silence after he leaves the room is deafening. The scent of peppermint too strong in your nostrils, and you feel lightheaded.
Yoongi's words bear a striking resemblance to Hifumi's earlier in the day.
“You call me vile now, but you’ll find out soon enough that we can’t always do good things for the people we love. If it means saving someone, there is no line between good and evil."
We do what we have to.
It's a suffocating soliloquy, not a defense but a revelation. However many times you've wondered how Hifumi could have no shame in her work, Yoongi's explanation serves to shed light on her position as well. She does what she has to, just as Yoongi and Taehyung do.
"You just need to stop letting your ego get in the way of what really matters."
“And what would that be?”
“I can’t answer that for you, love.”
What really matters? You could put five people in a room and ask them that same question, and you would receive five completely different answers. What matters to one person is pointless to another. Take buying flowers from a shop across the street for example. To you, an important and crucial part of the day that serves to alleviate the pain from school and classes. To Hifumi, a waste of money and time based on childish hopes and admiration for a cute boy. Whatever Hifumi meant though, you cannot figure out. Your ego is not getting in the way of anything. You just want to get through school, pay off some hospital bills, and not go into debt because of university. Work as a speech and language therapist, doing good work and being a good person.
“Wow…that’s — uh, you’re a really good person. That’s amazing how you want to help people and do good things for others. I...I can’t imagine.”
Perhaps Taehyung's words make more sense now, knowing that he is a part of some less than savory things in his spare time.
“You…you are a person who has seen a lot of terrible and evil things, but you still see the good in the world nonetheless. You want to expect the best from people, and yet you’ve been disappointed so many times that you aren’t sure anymore. That’s why you’re studying linguistics and psychology. So that you can do something good in the future, something with an impact, something meaningful. You’re too good for this world, yea…no doubt about that.”
An impact.
Something meaningful.
Good.
Is that not what really matters?
You shift your gaze to the mug on the bedside table, and an unprecedented rage swells in your chest. They raise you to think that doing good and being good is all that matters. That no matter what evil you see or hear, you are supposed to be good. Help others by doing good and meaningful things. What if doing good things doesn't get you far enough? You stretch your hand out, knocking the mug to the floor as a cat would with a glass. The ceramic shatters upon impact. Hot tea splashes your bare feet, burning and scalding the skin. A rush? A feeling as though you've broken some sort of invisible chains? Why does it send a thrill of exhilaration up your spine and through your body?
The door bursts open, Taehyung and Yoongi standing behind it to find the source of the crash no doubt. You get to your feet. A shard of ceramic crunches under your toes, not enough weight put down to break the skin, but it stings nonetheless. Both men glance between the mess on the floor and your stony expression.
"Is everything alright, Y/N?"
Your phone is buzzing again, a series of vibrations against the bed, and a distraction for both Taehyung and Yoongi. You pull their attention back with your next words though.
"You said you would give me two options. I want the second, and I want to know everything."
...
written by: jungtaeyoongles
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