#the doctor will forever and always be fruity and i LOVE them for that

[heyitsspaceace]

this may be my new favorite donna and the doctor interaction ever, russell t davies said, you think new doctor who is woke? oh i'll show you woke and i LOVE him for that

[collectivecloseness]

(Small thoughts about Yan! Fruity four) Thinking about when another incident like the first with the Yan! Fruity four would happen again 😌 like CLEARLY that won’t be the last time for it to happen—- like what happens if Nancy deliberately pushes the reader off somewhere somewhat high after they have a disagreement in public. And without the reader even being aware of it. They can all play doctor while readers legs heal, but would Nancy even tell the truth about what happened, and even if she did, what would they do about it?

BROOOOO. I s2g I could talk about the yandere fruity four so much, thank you for contributing 💕

(Cw: yandere, physical injury)

There’s been tension between you and Nancy recently, it’s obvious to at least her. No like big arguments or anything (nothing for you and the other three to be suspicious of afterwards, type of deal, even though she wasn’t planning this) but just small things. At first Nancy wavered between being pissed off, and feeling bad because she just wanted you back in her arms, where she could apologise and baby you in her lap and have you hold her back. But recently it’s been more Nancy seeing you in the wrong.

This time you had visited Nancy at her work. Her office at the newspaper’s was a few floors up, and you’d come to bring her some lunch from a local restaurant she liked, and hang out with her during her break. Which was when an extremely annoying coworker of Nancy’s knocked on her door, and asked who the beautiful madame she had in her office was, with a big smile, and a friendly bow to you.

Suffice to say, Nancy was pissed. Yes of course you are beautiful but you aren’t available!! Nancy’s already started off in an angry mood, because of a particularly harsh dream she’d had last night (one where she woke up, knowing at least she didn’t act that angry and malevolent towards you as she had in those scenes from her sleep, and maybe you should be grateful she always keeps her cool, maybe you need to realise how hard she really tries for you). Not to mention work had been shitty, she’d even been snappy at her coworkers she usually got one with on better days.

Of course she’s been a little better since you came to surprise her at work, not only with a meal you remembered she’d liked, but just because you wanted to hang out with her! Maybe she was being a little pissy with you recently, considering you still came to spend time with her like everything was normal still in your loving relationship. But then you’d shaken off Nancy’s, admittedly heated, comments about her asshole coworker. He was flirting with you, right in front of her, and you were waving Nancy off!

Not only that, but as you both binned your lunches and Nancy was starting to walk you out her office, you were starting to argue with Nancy, just because she wouldn’t calm down because you were acting so crazy and ungrateful and stupidly ignorantly blind for not seeing he was obviously flirting with you, and you were taking his side! Over Nancy’s! Your supposed girlfriends!

Not only that, but now you’re accusing Nancy of being possessive??! Like she’s not just trying to protect you!?! Like she ALWAYS DOES!? AS IF SHE’S NOT CONSTANTLY PROTECTING YOU, WITH THE OTHERS, AND PROTECTING YOU FROM EVEN KNOWING HOW HARD SHE TRIES TO LOOK AFTER YOU, EVEN WHEN YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT’S BEST FOR YOU?!!!

And you’re saying your going to tell her other partners just how out of your boundaries she’d been lately. Like you’d been thinking about this forever! You were going to tell her partners that you didn’t like her behaviour, when you were the one who didn’t care that someone was flirting with you! Even though Nancy clearly knows your lovers better than you do, because why would they want someone flirting with you either, especially since they’re not stupid, they know how easy the things they love, you, could be taken away from them.

Or did you only not care, or even like, this guys advances because it was around Nancy? Would you have been more defensive, more confrontational, less dismissive, if you were around one of your other lovers? Maybe you loved them more than her? Maybe you just didn’t care about Nancy that much at all really. Maybe you had it twisted. Maybe you didn’t think you needed her to protect you anymore. Maybe you didn’t want her!

“Hey y/n stop walking away from me!”

STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM ME!!!!!!

You’re both on the second floor stairwell, you walking faster the more annoyed you get, like you just can’t wait to leave Nancy, while she’s chasing you, still trying to get you to just be on her side.

She pushes you when your back is turned. It was just heat of the moment, she was so angry. Even though she feels that anger still as you fall by her hands, she also feels panic, and her hands want to reach out for you, to save you, even though her body stays angrily out in push mode.

Your body rolls not sideways, but from the front, as you fall. Nancy walks down the flight of stairs slowly once you’re on ground, your scream cut off short when you hit the platform.

She checks you’re still breathing, a small kissing of her teeth as she’s glad you’re fine, and then lifts your cheek to check your head on the side where you fell, finding no blood pouring onto the floor. Another good sign. At least she doesn’t have to think too hard about her, admittedly impulsiveness, being too stupid.

Nancy shakes you, with a “y/n?” But as she looks again at the, dry, concrete floor platform at the end of the stairs, and Nancy looks back to your knocked out form on the ground, she realises this was a bad place to push you.

Nancy looks at way your body fell, and even though she still feels pissed at your response, and Nancy can tell through some introspection that she doesn’t really feel, quite, guilty over what she’s done, she is still worried about you. She doesn’t want you to be hurt. She could never dream of that for you! You’re so important to her, you’re her love, of course she’d protect you from injury. The guilt sets in a little via dread seeping into her lungs with a gulp. Not because she believes she was in the wrong still, but she didn’t mean to hurt you badly! She’d never take it that far. Not at least for this!

She should have controlled herself, she should have been the smart one, done something else to solve all this! Nancy goes to the emergency phone in the stairwell and dials 911, looking only at your passed out form and keeping her eyes sharp for any movement or groans from you. “Hello, 911, wh-“

“I need an ambulance.” Nancy gives the address straight away, the floor as well, keeping calm so no one would waste time while trying to get you the help you needed. But then when she was trying to figure out how to explain what happened, a more frantic voice started bubbling out of her. Hoping it would make the responders come quicker, make it seem like your fall was a big issue, all as Nancy explained how you’d tripped, and fallen all the way down the flight of concrete stairs.

Her frantic expressiveness leads to Nancy starting to call for help, with a louder voice now, yelling in the echoey stairway, so some people in her building come come, and she could order them to go get help as well. She doesn’t need anyone else because she’s enough to help you. Nancy doesn’t need a crowd, it won’t help you. Nancy’s the only one who should be soothing you right now, stroking your hair, calling you honey, trying to lure you awake with your musical name, comforting you... But if someone could find a doctor in the building that’d be good.

Nancy could know more about your condition then, or get you help if you need it more immediately. Obviously worries about you breaking something like your back are there, although Nancy hopes those stairs can’t have done that much. But as she strokes your arm and continually calls your name, someone, actually one of her bosses, having run to find a medical professional in the building, finally in your sleep she notices you twitch. Your hand flexing, and Nancy hopes that it’s not just an involuntary muscle spasm, or a hint of further injury, and it’s actually a sign of you being able to move.

Her managing editor comes back with someone who must be a medical professional of some kind, Nancy’s first question, after “Are they alright?!” Because they immediately skid to your side, with a neat looking backpack thrown to the floor. A crowd has also followed them, Nancy getting slightly pissed that they’re all blocking the doorway, even though the paramedics would obviously yell at them to move when they arrived. She just focused on brushing your cool cheek and listening to what this off duty emt, who was a lifestyle writers husband, had to say. Clearly a lot of lovers visiting over lunch.

With this group of people though, it at least allowed Nancy to take you as her priority. Spotting one person in the crowd, and looking them in the eyes as she beckoned them forward. Mostly because she spotted the pen in their front pocket. They even tore off their cardigan to write on their arm, no one who worked at the newspapers seemingly carrying any paper, jotting down the number of Steve’s home, and the message Nancy wanted them to call with. Telling the others what had happened, that you’d fallen down the stairs at her work and were unresponsive, and to meet her at the hospital as she’d be going in the ambulance with you.

She knows Steve’s house is a bit far from her work, so by the time the ambulance arrives, which should only be several minutes from now, you and Nancy would already be at the hospital. The others would be able to give your name at the front desk, and meet Nancy there. Who knows where the doctors would have taken you by then...

Nancy’s holding your hand the entire ambulance ride. When she’s walking there with you, still unconscious on the stretcher out the building, and some idiot who doesn’t move so they can watch the action bumps into her and nearly knocks Nancy’s hand out of yours... Nancy swears she could kill her. Next time she saw them, she swears they’re done.

She only lets you go when the paramedics tell her to, Nancy watching closely as they shine lights in your eyes, to also see if you respond. When they ask “Y/n? Can you hear us? Nancy’s here with you.” Her heart skips a beat. She hopes you’re comforted, you push more for her, knowing she’s right be your side. And she also hopes you don’t know that she pushed you.

This was another thing Nancy stupidly hadn’t thought about when she was trying to teach you a lesson. What if you knew? What if you felt her hands? What if you remembered? What if you hated her. What if you told the others? What if you told everyone?

Some doctors tell Nancy to wait outside as you’re strolled into a closed off room, neck brace covering the pretty necklace bought by all four of your lovers, a symbolic present for when you first became part of their family, that you always wore.

She didn’t want to risk being thrown out, so Nancy waited outside fretfully, but quietly, trying to walk up and down to see inside the room, with no such luck. They were taking forever with you! What did they know?

Nancy hears Eddie, Steve and Robin, long before she sees them. And not even because she was so accustomed to the sounds of their running patterns, or because of the people complaining in the hallways about people running, but because she could her your lovers calling your name terrified.

They all rush up to Nancy, pulling her into a hug, Robin squeezing her arms tight around Nancy as she sobs, while they ask where are you, and what have the doctors said, what even happened?!!

Nancy says you fell, and the others feel a mix of guilt for her, and also anger, like they would have caught you if it was them, but before they can continue the doctors are rolling you out, now attached to some iv, and they’re all reaching for the sides of your hospital bed, following you as they ask what’s going on. Their eyes wandering all over your body because you’re still not awake. Hands reaching to gently hold you, they just need to touch you, but so scared of accidentally hurting you.

The doctors and nurses walk with you and your lovers as they try to get a word in edgeways, explaining your injuries.

You hit your head in a couple of places, falling down those hard stairs. Luckily, you shouldn’t need to be placed into a medically induced coma, and there’s no signs of permanent damage, they predict you’ll be awake in a couple of hours, and will monitor your brain extremely regularly.

You were lucky only one of your legs was broken. Your left was still pretty fucked up, bruised and bashed to hell, some battered and torn muscles, a dislocated knee, sprained ankle, a two fractured toes. Even though only your right leg was broken, it was however was broken in two places, your tibia and fibula. Luckily though this meant, depending on how much your left leg hurt, you’d be able to use crutches within a week or so, if necessary. A wheelchair was more recommend for now.

Even Nancy knew the others would not be letting you get up to use your crutches to limp around. It would be the wheelchair, or being carried in someone’s arms, if you weren’t being tucked tightly into bed where they could be with you while you rest. Until doctors recommended the crutches to help with physical therapy and healing, then they’d be infighting with each other between trying to help you try as hard as you can, versus being too worried and wanting to coddle you into not straining yourself. Even as one of them, Nancy knew them so well.

You had only a sprained wrist, although it looked very beaten, all the damage was seemingly superficial, with a possible dislocated shoulder, and a deeper scrape on your forearm, from where you probably tried defending your head as you fell, this explanation plummeting sobs from three of your four lovers in the room. But again, that would heal, and a lot of your arm injuries were very minor for what they could’ve been.

A crack in your ribs however was present. Small, you’d still be able to walk soon, but another injury to add to the list. Your hips were fortunate to be undamaged, but just further up your torso was littered with deep bruises, especially discoloured around that bottom rib, the markings all over; something Steve would discover an hour later, when going to loosen your bra, because you always said it hurt if you fell asleep in it, and while trying to snifflingly ease your pain, he instead caused himself and the others more.

A small patch of scrapes littered up the very side of your cheekbone and head, just to the left of your hairline, and a nurse warned them not to be alarmed if any bruising or swelling in your face started to appear soon.

They all winced at this mention, Eddie seemingly being the only brave enough one to reach out at that point, and lightly stroke his fingers under your cheekbone, just past where those nasty scrapes were. He stayed doing so, knowing he was comforting you, even if asleep, until a nurse wanted to patch them up a bit, as they hadn’t exactly been high priority. When Eddie moved, he kissed your lips too, a loving gesture that he knew you’d feel, a promise to you he wasn’t going far at all, he was going right back to your other side and stroking your bare arm there. Eddie had just wished his kiss had worked, and awoken you from your dreadful, cursed, state, so he could really be your fairytale hero. He hoped you still thought of him as that anyway, even while like this.

At this point, it’d been a few months since the baseball bat ordeal. It had been slightly forgotten by now, at least not thought about very often. And with the shock of you being injured, with that hurried phone call from a scared stranger about you sending chill’s down Steve’s spine, Steve’s words shocking fear right into the hearts of Eddie and Robin, watching you here, hurt, unresponsive in their arms, the shock wasn’t making them think back to past events. They were all just too scared for you. Upset that you’d been so hurt, and they hadn’t been there to help you, to catch you, to be with you, to save you.

Even if you’d fallen down at home, their stairs are soft and carpeted, you have rails you can hold, you’d have been surrounded by your loves, the ones who’d always help you the most.

You were so much safer at home. This is what the always feared, but pushed aside for your happiness. You shouldn’t just risk going out into that harsh world.

When you wake up, after a few hours and lots of different doctors coming in and doing things, Eddie Steve and Robin burst into tears. Nancy’s too nervous to cry. All four come closer, swallowing you in a hug, close knit sweat and tears and cried panting breaths and sobs and whispers of your name all enveloping.

Eddie already laying in your bed with you, because he screamed if any of the other three tried to move him, and so they decided to stop, especially since he wasn’t on any wires and he wasn’t hurting you. If anything maybe he was really healing you. And he had some slight trauma with hospitals after people were hurt during the fight against Vecna, so they let him be close to you.

Eddie stayed curled up laid out by your side. Sniffling, stroking your smooth cheek, away from your scrapes, and your messy hair, his dark puppy eyes just staring at you. Breathing through his mouth, until Nancy eventually handed him a tissue. Just wanting to lay there, his hands still gently holding you, and watch you, laying right there with you, until you woke up.

Robin had been sitting in the small space on your bed on your other side, too scared of holding your hand with the iv in, but blubbering words to you faster than you’d probably be able to hear even if you were awake, her hand never leaving your less injured forearm though. Trying desperately not to sink her nails in to you too tight, and also shaking so much she was afraid she’d accidentally let go. Some of her words including swearing that she wasn’t going to let you out of her sight again. Sweeter things, like she’d be there for you. And upset rambles that she’ll never let you leave home again, and she’d rather have you chained to her than out of her reach again. Things too frenziedly mumbled, and in a tone that the others understood Robin probably didn’t even realise she was saying, or care she was so upset, but sentiments everyone was silent at because they couldn’t deny, they’d all been thinking things on other levels of those ideas themselves.

Steve wasn’t afraid to hold your hand with the pain meds injected in, he was gentle. He didn’t touch near the needle, but his thumb rubbed up and down warmly, his hand never left yours, fingers interlocked, with a reassuring hold.

He’d moved the armchair in the corner of the room right up to the bed, Robin’s feet resting on top of his legs, which kinda helped both of them, as he leant his elbows by her own thighs, staring deeply at your sleeping face with the most intent brown eyes. Blocked from the view on the opposite end, of Eddie’s dark brown eyes wetly staring at you on his own side too.

Steve held his chin up with his hands, the only reason his leg stopped bouncing in intervals was Robin’s own legs on top of his. Sometimes bringing your hand up, and holding his chin with that too, whenever he leant his head down to kiss it, tears falling and rolling onto your cool skin also. “Please baby. You gotta wake up. Come back to me y/n.” Steve would whisper occasionally to you. Just like how they’d all talk to you. Quietly, but uncaring if the others heard, because their love was private enough in this room with their family.

Although sometimes the cries of words were loud and shattering instead.

But Steve’s other phrase he repeated a lot, with those eyes kept on you each time he said it, the only words he’d have to look at you for, were “I promise.” He never elaborated. He probably wasn’t even thinking about it. But Steve had so many promises for you. Promises to be a better boyfriend. Be the man you deserve. Be your protector. Bring you back. Look after you properly. Do anything and everything for you. Steve promised all of this, if only you’d come back to him. He knew you knew what he meant though. Of course you did, your love was strong enough for that, Steve knew you understood him.

When you awake, the first thing you say is “Are you okay?” Because all you can see is the faces of the people you love most crying, red, and heartbroken. Heartbroken, but so relieved.

And God... if that being your first reaction to waking up in a hospital bed, doesn’t just prove to them that you are extraordinary. You are so perfect, you’re so kind to them, so so loving and so egregiously loved, and that you are too good for this harsh world, someone who needs to be protected from it, no matter what they’ll do anything to do that.

The second thing you ask is of course “What happened?” Waking and feeling groggy, coming out of your state of unconsciousness, too shocked and bleary, and of course pumped full of pain meds, to really feel any pain right now.

Steve asks how you feel while Nancy asks you to try and move something, over the top of each other. Steve uses the call button quickly, and as you’re getting used to the weird feeling, and the sight, of having a big chunky cast on one of your legs, you wriggle your toes on your opposite foot effortlessly.

Something you get drowned in praise for. Which you can’t deny, feels good. You’re always praised by all four of your lovers, so much so sometimes, but you could get used to being smothered in praise just for wriggling your toes. Or maybe that’s still the daze.

Having your lovers shower you in, careful, hugs and kisses, people swapping who’s holding your face and looking down at you so lovingly, all the kind wonderfully praising words down at you with genuine meaning, and most of all, watching your partners faces go from tear stricken to smiling like they’re high, full of a shoot up of relief, finally happy, pride for you, hopeful, a few tears still falling from a couple of them, but falling because their eyes crinkle as their smiles stretch so wide showing their beautiful teeth it must be hurting their lips. Laughs coming from their throats with a certain roughness from their past crying, and so many loving words surrounding you more and more, and more.

Relieved that you can move, they all saw it for themselves, and having already called the doctor, you ask again what happened.

Boy does Nancy feel relief with that question. Of course you still look groggy, not that anyone would say that of course, all four of them were cradling you in their hands and calling you beautiful. The heartfelt, starry and teary looks in the others eyes, they are being so genuine when they say that. They’re seeing you open your eyes again, looking at them, and bruised or not, you are beautiful.

But Nancy does believe you’ll be none the wiser. Which is lucky for her, again. One cynical part of Nancy’s brain does speak up then, thinking that it’s probably better that their luck run out soon, otherwise Nancy may be less apprehensive doing worse things in the future. Worse things for you. Of course Nancy would only do what’s best though. She just has to try and remember that.

And maybe remember that she’s supposed to be the more restrained one of the group. After last time as well, she definitely doesn’t want to let the others down too. And she wants to be good enough for you, she just wants you to still love her, that’s what’s good enough for Nancy.

Needless to say you’re not being left alone at that hospital. Because you woke up some time before visiting hours were over, the hospital only allowed one person to stay overnight. Steve and Nancy both tried to see if there was any leeway, but with no luck. Surprisingly Robin was the one who nearly got into a big argument with the nurse who had told them so. But luckily Steve had managed to calm her down (and grab her before she could leap at someone).

Whilst Eddie, done with begging, simply stayed nuzzling into your collar, his small tears weeping against your skin whenever he buried his face more. While the others argued he was pretty quiet, wanting to spend his time all with you, and happy with your petting and loving scritching of his head and curls back. At least he got to be with you for longer, and while the others fought.

But Steve and Nancy revealed to a shaking with adrenaline Robin that they needed to stay lowkey. And she let herself be calmed by Steve’s hug, while Nancy rubbed her shoulders, the three all turning to look at you in the now quiet of the room, and Eddie peering up at you too. Honestly you were used to having their eyes on you by this point, very used, but this was a whole other level.

Your other three lovers were actually very valiant, and all agreed Nancy should be the one to stay, before anyone could even put their name in the hat. She’s the one who watched you fall, she’s the one who had to check on you and wait with you, they all let her go first. Something Nancy bowed her head at, with a pink faced thank you. But they all knew it was an easier decision, because the three were breaking back into your room as soon as lights were out for the night.

And it was pretty easy, no one questions you when you look confident with where you’re going, and everyone who worked at the hospital was too tired to even notice them. So half an hour after saying bye, and holding Nancy’s hand and chatting about what she must’ve been thinking when you fell, you had your three loves quietly coming back into your room, and kissing your lips with slight teariness again, because they’d been panicking so at not being able to see you for those past 32 minutes.

You are even more of a princess now, than when you first agreed to go out with all of them

You’ll never have less than two people in your room, more like three, but mostly all four of them. Someone will only be gone when they’re leaving to get you breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks from your favourite places, so you don’t have to eat that yucky hospital food.

You’ll only be minus two when one of them needs to have a cry or talk to another, and they don’t want to do it in front of you. Steve, Robin, or Eddie would leave, and would usually be followed by one of the others, when caught with that obvious need to talk.

You’re brought a different bouquet of flowers handpicked individually by each one of your lovers every single day. The first time was hospital flowers, because no one wanted to leave so far when you were still so freshly hurt. The wounds of it were fresh with them as well. The McDonald’s only across the road got a lot of money that first day. But when you sweetly asked for pizza the next day at lunch, everyone scrambled to see if anywhere would deliver, or where the closest- you said you wanted Pizza Hut? Got it. Where the closest Pizza Hut was.

Presents and anything you needed, anything you wanted, anything they felt the urge to get, was brought to you. Either by them, or asking others to grab stuff, so they could stay with you. They loved knowing they had such good friends that they could genuinely rely on, in times like this too.

They felt better watching you brighten up with your visitors. Dustin came, bringing some board games and other items you might want with a key Steve gave him to their place, and a backpack full with half melted chocolate. As well as a hospital gift shop card, and you only brightened up more that Dustin completely forgot the cheap price sticker on it, but it was so endearing and gave you a good needed giggle, not that you let Dustin know what you were giggling about, and you were coddled over for grimacing in pain because it hurt your cracked rib.

Joyce and El visited, El having hand drawn a get well soon card and having picked out flowers and chocolates in the gift shop downstairs, because she’d never visited someone in a hospital before (for something not life threatening too) and she’d learnt it was something you were supposed to do. Joyce had been lovely, because she’d given you that mom hug, and you’d just held on and burst into tears at her warmth, and her scent, and her tenderness, and her hug. It was the first time you’d cried all day, you didn’t even know why you did. But you loved having Joyce there. Yes your partners brought you comfort, but Joyce had such a parental vibe, she really made you feel like everything was going to be okay, and you were looked after, and loved.

Even Hellfire club stopped by, with more sweets for you. Mike nearly getting hit in the head by Eddie and Steve and Nancy because one of the packs he handed you was already open and half eaten. He hadn’t even had those ones, it was Gareth. But with every friend visiting, and your partners, your family, always around, so encouraging, you felt so loved and taken care of.

And after a few days, with lots of final pestering questions to your doctors by your loves, you were released back home. Already having a schedule Nancy had two copies of in a folder of your medical information, of when you were to come in for physical therapy. Your injuries needed some extra work, especially your broken leg, but keeping up with your meds, having people help you with physical tasks around the house, looking after your wounds, and coming to physical therapy, you’d be back to normal in no time!

Your doctor affectionately nicknamed you ‘The Tank’ for having come out pretty okay from just a nasty accident. You were sure he’d used that name for plenty of patients, but it made you smile every time anyway. And with the reassurance from all your friends, your family, you felt strong too.

Well, strong and their princess. You could be both. They told you so!

Just because you were back from the hospital, didn’t mean you were any less delicate, and precious, and babied and worried over by them. In fact, you were sure someone would have a nervous breakdown as they transported you from the hospital, to Steve’s car, to your wheelchair to the sofa.

Steve was going to carry you to bed tonight, and then they’d all help getting you to the bathroom, to your wheelchair to go to the garden, and to be in the living room with them.

You wanted to feel like you were still part of the household team, and go to the dining room to eat, and watch tv with them at night on the sofa, and explore the garden for fresh air with them all.

And honestly, if you hadn’t phrased it like that initially, they might’ve fought harder to keep you only in your bedroom. But they couldn’t deny you after that... how could they! Of course they’d carry you everywhere around the house! They’d take you to watch the sunset glisten against Steve’s pool and sit by the flowers every single evening! Of course they’d do that, you could still interact like you were a normal part of the family, of course they’d do that for you! Anything you ask! They’d do that of course because they love you!!!

And that’s what they do. They try to keep you in bed a little in the mornings, so you’re comfortable. When everyone moved into Steve’s parents house when they weren’t really coming back to Hawkins, Steve tried to get the biggest beds for everyone’s rooms. Enough so five of you could fit, usually if you were all snuggled up to each other at night.

Everyone was pretty wary around your injuries, but having been unable to do so in the hospital, the first night home was spent with you comfortably in the middle of your own bed, and the others trying to give you space, but cuddled up as close as possible, all trying to at least have a hand on you. Sure Robin woke up with a fright because Eddie nearly kicked her off the bed, and when everyone was awake, Nancy was baking because Steve had been like a sauna all night apparently, when she was so squished to his bare back, clinging to his chest and trying to not lie on the edge. But they were happy because they got to be close with you, and you were very happy about the situation too!

Luckily by your window sill, there was a cushioned seating area, that could be used to sleep on if necessary, so that was used some nights as well. There being plenty of big comfy chairs, bean bags, and blow up mattresses around if absolutely necessary also.

You’re of course brought breakfast in bed. Steve wanted to give you healthier stuff to help you heal quicker, but he was also so upset about nearly, potentially losing you, and that you were hurt, he wanted to do everything to make you happy, anything, so he’d bring you the biggest and best breakfasts, on the mornings he went for them.

Steve and Eddie were usually the ones who lifted you, being the tallest and strongest, and no one wanting to risk dropping you when you were like this, although Robin sometimes helped them. They kept your wheelchair on whichever floor you were on, so in the mornings someone could wheel you to the bathroom. No one had wanted to leave that first morning, even when you told them you just needed to piss. Eddie and Robin stayed babbling to you on the bathroom sink, while Nancy and Steve ravaged through gift bags downstairs to find the new bubble bath you’d gotten. And then, admitting your ribs hurt, you eventually accepted Eddie and Robin’s help to haul your thighs back into your chair.

Bath time you were treated even more like a queen, constantly being asked if the temperature was okay, and have whoever was on duty asking if the bin bag tied around your leg, over your cast, was okay too, not wanting it to be too tight or hurting you. It was awkward and hurt a bit to get in the tub, they could all tell, and they hated watching you like this, but they’d stay. Of course they did. Usually multiple of them, just to chat with you, and fight over who got to wash you. Any room you were in, usually so were the other four, unless they were doing something.

They light scented candles, and someone will sing a tune, and they’ll make sure it’s all lovely. They looove just being able to help you relax, styling your hair, and taking the time to gently pick apart and brush any knots out of it. Usually someone got to work with your hair while another washed you. Technically you could probably do that part yourself, even though your arms and ribs were a bit injured, but it could hurt even a tiny bit, and they wanted to wash you, they wanted to treat you like a queen, they wanted to worship you, and they wanted to help you. So of course you wouldn’t complain. And they are sooo gentle around your injuries. Which unfortunately, there are quite a few of. One of the things they hate about bath time is seeing those bruises look worse and worse on your body. You’re still their beautiful girl, thats not changed at all, they just hate seeing you hurt.

They will insist on carrying you back to your room to get you changed, because surely it must be more comfortable to sit on your bed than the bath tub, and they chuckle each time you give a suggestive wink as you mention them carrying your naked and slippery body back to the bedroom. Oh what will they do to you now?

It makes them smile each time. Eddie and Steve will be shirtless carrying you too, at first just so their shirts didn’t get wet they’d say, but that very quickly in the next sentence devolved into a much more flirty sentiment. You loved at least being able to fawn over their bare chests, touching them, and sometimes teasing them too, even if you couldn’t do much with how fucked up you were right now.

They love dressing you up in their own clothes, and it’s not like you’re complaining, or you can easily change back. You love being able to smell them on you, and be comforted by their outfits. Sometimes they bicker over who gets to change you, only because they know they each want to put their own clothes on you. You sometimes get your own very comfy ones though, or your favourite shirts. That and the new clothes they’ve bought you, because your lovers are all compulsive shoppers when it comes to gifting you with things, you learnt way back when they first were trying to court you. It’s a good thing the shared household has a very good income, especially with what was left and still given by Steve’s parents.

They’ll carry you again down the stairs, but then you’re put in your wheelchair if not the sofa, and Robin and Nancy will argue it’s their turn to hold you (push you about) this time, although it ends up being largely shared.

“Maybe you should keep me away from stairs. You know, because of my track record of falling off them?”

Nancy gulps, freezes, but it’s not noticed by anyone, Robin and Eddie still walking besides you, transfixed on your crack of a smile, dealing with their own pounding hearts at the memory of you getting hurt, twice. But Steve smiles back in his joke with you, jostling you carefully up in his arms as he says “Yeah, that’s why I’m taking you downstairs.” The four of you chuckle, and Nancy quickly steps in place behind. It’s a good job they’re all obsessed with you.

If any of you thought at all on this, how you’d ‘fallen down stairs’ twice around her and been knocked out, the coincidence would point a glaringly obvious finger at Nancy. And she’s already got plans in place depending on who or how many of you figure that out first.

Once you’re down, and Robin’s getting chided by Nancy for doing wheelies with you in your chair, you get to decide what you all do. But they’ve all also come up with lots of fun activities themselves! So you’re not stuck bored or having to think too hard, you don’t need to strain yourself, there’s four of them here for you!

Steve and Robin nearly die when Eddie wheels you into their work one day early on. You’ve come to pick out about a weeks worth of films, and they couldn’t be happier having you visit! It makes their heart feel good, and painful things, seeing you out and about like usual, but just in a wheelchair.

They also get slightly scared not having you at home, even though you’re with them. But of course you’d ask Eddie if you two can go out and how could he refuse you! They all have a great time with you at Steve and Robin’s work, the three are just slightly more... protective. Like when people come in and start knocking over tapes because they’re clumsy, or don’t care, or a car outside is going way too fast, near the glass windows of the store. They spend some time just huddled around you in a circle, still laughing and joking around with you, and your lap stacked full of tapes.

Your great idea of a bbq was really nice, because not only did everyone have fun watching Steve in his ‘kiss the chef’ apron cooking (regularly put onto Eddie as well, which he wouldn’t complain about if he got attention, and, kisses) but you all got to spend a long afternoon outside together. It felt really good for you.

You could sit in the outside seating with everyone else, go around with Robin to smell the flowers, watch Eddie throw Nancy into the pool after she’d clearly teased him about something. And although Steve caught your pout, telling him that you wished you could go in the pool, you soon had a bucket of warm, chlorine, water, to paddle your foot not attached to a cast in, and had Eddie spraying you with a water gun he’d found to also help you ‘experience the pool’. He refused to tell Steve where he found them. Although within an hour he’d given you one as well ‘to hide’, so you could pull it out against the others at the funniest opportunity presented to you.

You’d all prepared some lovely cold food and treats in the kitchen together, before going out and eating some skilfully grilled things by your lovers, and kissing a lot of chefs, and Nancy even had her camera out to take lots of pictures together. It had been really lovely. It had felt refreshing. And it proved to you you could have fun, have normal good days, even being kinda injured right now. And your four lovers started to tear up with smiley faces, when you told them how good this day had been, as you kissed each of them with an “I love you so much.”

Anything and everything, all for you, from all of them.

Even when you can start to walk, they still like carrying you around. They encourage your attempts, and reward your efforts, even though, holy God, you feel like you’re constantly being rewarded at the moment. But they still get nervous. A toss up between wanting you to get better and improve, and being so scared you’re not ready and you’ll hurt yourself, and just wanting to do all the hard work for you.

You have to tell them having one person in front of you and one person behind you kind of impedes your ability to walk in any direction, but with people behind you and at your sides, sad they can’t hold your hands, you manage to soon be strong enough to use your crutches. Everyone’s happy your arms are feeling better, and strong too! Although they do keep the wheelchair around, just in case.

Eddie has a bet with you to keep you going strong, about when you’ll next be able to bench press him. At some point the terms of the bet switch to ‘when you’ll be able to throw Eddie against a wall’ and no one can quite trace when that happened. Robin makes a show of fawning over your ‘muscly’ biceps though, and disrespecting Steve’s ‘lack of them’.

Very soon you have the four of them individually (and together) drooling starry eyed over how they have such a strong girlfriend, who they’re so in awe of.

When you push Eddie’s face away as he kneels by the sofa arm after teasingly chattering on and on about his warrior princess girlfriend, and ‘biting into pure muscle’, he pretends to be so thrown back by your mighty hand. And then faints from how intimidated he is by your strength. And turned on. Which gets the remote thrown at his head by Robin. And Eddie fake faints again.

And then you tell Eddie he’s bullying you for faking being knocked out, when that’s basically a trauma for you! And then you get smothered in kissies by your boyfriend!

And eventually your also there girlfriend, who is trying to shove Eddie back after two full minutes of being left out, like Robin was as strong as Eddie pretended you had been.

They all have a little bet of the next time they’ll be able to sit in your lap again - with the caveat of ‘DON’T STRAIN YOURSELF TO DO SO EARLY THOUGH PLEASE MY LOVE’

They drive you to physical therapy, and you always get to go out somewhere as a treat afterwards. They all felt frozen on the spot, after your first session, where you used your crutch to go all the way to the front of the line by yourself, and began ordering your ice cream sundae, but they at least started to calm when they realised nothing bad had happened. And after some talks with each other, where they knew they would not let anything happen to you out there, when you were with all of them.

You hadn’t really noticed yet, but you kinda assumed you hadn’t been out anywhere on your own, because they were worried you wouldn’t be able to comfortably get yourself there and back home without their help. They do slightly wonder if they’ll feel any... less like this, once you’re fully healed up, and probably wanting to go out there on your own again.

...That’s a bridge they’ll cross when they come to it. For now, they loooove being able to spend all their time, taking care of their poor, sweet, lovely girlfriend.

Obviously Nancy is very smart, and I feel like as a yandere it only helps with her manipulation. So she probably wouldn’t tell the others what she did. No need for them to know right! You didn’t know, and neither did anyone else, so why would her other partners need to? There’s no proof, she made sure after the others got to you at the hospital that there hadn’t been any cameras around. So there was no evidence and she was singlehandedly protecting her family herself (by not letting her get arrested and the family being torn apart, as well as the others secrets potentially looked into more).

She knows they’d just be upset. Of course, there’s no reason for her to let that happen. They’d be angry with her, and they’d probably feel guilty and conflicted about letting you in. She doesn’t think Steve would, unless you’re begging him for a truth and Nancy hasn’t been sinking her claws (in a sweet way) into him recently. Robin would also probably be too anxious to tear the family apart, and to tell on Nancy. Nancy had had to tell Robin off, in only medium ways, once or twice, but Nancy also knew Robin was a good girl. But she was also your girl. It would be rocky.

Eddie... Nancy could still trust him, but she could see him being the most tricky out of the group. Tricky to control and predict as well.

She could see Eddie snatching you up and taking you away from her and the others, driving you away in that shitty van to lead a life with you elsewhere, just the two of you.

Eddie had grown used to being alone before they all came together, whereas Steve and Robin were terrified of it. If Eddie was scared for you, he’d steal you away in the night, and Nancy wouldn’t underestimate Eddie’s sneakiness when necessary, including taking you on your own willingness thanks to him, and she wouldn’t underestimate Eddie being content with you being his family, not having you in any harms way, being happy with you. And with only one family member to call and meet up with. Only one other person he cared about like that. Easier to cut ties with the town he wanted to leave before this relationship started.

It also meant Eddie only had his Uncle Wayne to look out for in the town he left. The only one to warn in case any of the others, his nephews ‘ex friends’, started acting weird. Only one person to set up precautions with, in case he was used to lure you and Eddie back.

It’s not like Nancy would ever hurt Mike, who was in Hellfire with Eddie. And she wouldn’t want to do anything to Dustin either, she also knew Steve would not allow that to happen, and Nancy would definitely lose Steve if she hurt Dustin. That would be the best way to get Steve to not only hate her, but fight back against Nancy. Lose Steve, and you, and probably have Eddie gain Steve... and then Robin would probably leave her and join... Not that Nancy was thinking about hurting Wayne. Or anyone, of course not. Eddie just had the most options, as well as a lot of other ticks in the category. ...Nancy just thought too much, was all.

It was just all around easier to not involve them. Besides, Nancy couldn’t deny that when attention wasn’t poured on you, she liked the extra forehead kisses and tight hugs from the others she’d gotten back when she first could have told the truth, the love for her having seen such a dreadful sight, watching you fall, being the one to call the ambulance so fretfully. Poor Nancy, she was so brave to them, so in need of some extra love. And she truly loved all of them, including you.

Nancy would do the right thing. And that was not letting her family be torn apart.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Thank you aeron, I wish i wasn't like this in the first place but unfortunately here we are (not that i mean that against anyone else just myself) you definitely think im more amazing than i am, i just see it as like 'that thing i cant get rid of'

i tried to bring it up again but one of them apologised for being grouchy...lets see how long this lasts but the others don’t know and i upset one of them accidentally today in a gc so now i feel bad and like i cant bring anything up

one of my irls knew i read fanfics and i sent the tags of lady oswald (told you that was my fav fic) to a friend - who tbf already has an inkling but i keep brushing it off - they reverse image searched it and ended up reading more doctor who stuff than i did LOL i stick/stuck pretty much to my sweet sweet clara content whereas theyre in love with half the cast

hopefully they never see this ask! that will be v embarrassing

yeah im gonna call it gopiss girl 🫶

hope your food was nice!

nah my family are all outwardly homophobic (well, they pretend to be okay with it as long as its not in their family type of thing, they pride themselves on having a straight lineage and take bets on which family member will be the first one to come out as gay, and like, whisper about whos a secret gay its ridiculous) long story short it was definitely homophobically intented, but wtf does a gay person smell like, like if i have to define a gay smell i just start thinking of sweet, floral perfumes because thats the smell id be breathing in if i was cuddling with a girl (which part of me longs for but also part of me despises that i long for)

sorry again about the clara thing i feel bad for sending you so many clara requests and your writing is so good i just want more 😭 its my little escape for the world where i don’t have to be seen by anyone and no one can see me hence why i am a (hopefully) lovely anon instead

also on your page saw that gif thats like 'i am a f*cking star!* me i am star

oh cool! with the pronouns thing that sounds cool yeah i have no idea about gender ive had people explain it to me like 20 times i don’t think i will ever truly wrap my head around it but i try to be supportive

i know what a lavender marriage is id just be so concerned that everyone would think my husband is gay or that i would be so paranoid all the time that people would know, yknow - ugh its frustrating im just like, trying to figure out whether to sort of go down the get married traditionally and just be fruity secretly in my head, resign myself to being single forever or be in a lavender marriage but then again no one wants to be in one of those because they'll want to come out at some point and then it makes the girl look dumb or vice versa, and then if they're with someone romantically then you just feel like an idiot idk

sorry this is such a yap ive had a tough day

also thar description of demi kinda soudns like me i literally freak out anything to do with sex im like someones attractive but without clothes im just like 🏃‍♀️‍➡️ like i want it but im so terrified so idek

sending you love aeron and idk where sparkle went love you too

your fics are great aeron if you need validation there you go <3

- ⭐

I completely get what you mean, and I know this is such a tired and overused saying but your feelings ARE important and they DO matter, even if some people can't seem that 🫶

Okay but your friend being in love with half the cast of doctor who is so real because me too honestly 😭 and every time you mention a fic of mine that you love it always fills me with such joy even if you've already said it before 🥰

Gopiss girl 😭😭 I can't

It was!! It didn't last long though because I was hungry lmao

I also thought of floral scents for some reason when I thought of something "smelling gay" idk why either

It's not a problem at all, I promise! I don't mind writing a lot for clara because I also love her and I know it makes you happy which is the goal with my writing 🫶

That quote's always going to remind me of you from now on haha

I get it completely! I think it's okay to not understand something as long as you're supportive and respectful, which you are 🥰

It's completely okay to yap, and I get it. I just hope that someday you're able to get the happy ending you want without having to compromise or feel guilty because you definitely deserve that ❤️

See I didn't think I was demi either until I really looked into it and compared what it meant to what I feel and that's how I was like "Oh yeah I think that might be me" lmao

And you're so sweet star anon thank you so very much <3

[yutahoes]

Punch

pairing : bodyguard! Yuta Nakamoto x rich girl! Y/N

genre: angst, fluff, childhood friends au

word count: 2.7k words

summary : Yuta has his eyes on one girl. A person he cannot have. 

a/n: based on this ask. you’ll probably guess that I intended this to be an angst fic so the ending is kinda off but I still hope you’ll like it anon.  

“Can you please act like a proper lady?” the mother of the house scolded which only made Y/N sip her soup loudly. “Y/N!” she shouted, which made the younger girl flinch. 

The oldest sighed loudly, closing his eyes. “Can’t we just enjoy our meal without shouting?” The younger girl snickered. “And Y/N, please listen to your mom. Act like a proper lady.”

She rolled her eyes at that. It’s not like she’s not an obedient child, she listens to what they want. She just hated how they put all this pressure on her to be a proper woman when it’s not what she wants. The disadvantage of being born into a rich family. 

Her right wrapped fist hit the punching bag before her left fist hooked to hit its side. The door opened and she swings a punch, only to hit her childhood friend by the shoulder. “That is one weak punch.” Yuta teased, fixing the wrap of her right fist. “Why do you have to practice boxing when you have your bodyguard?” He whispered while fixing the other wrap. “I’d rather break all my bones than let someone lay a finger on you.”   

She laughed. “For someone so strong and muscly, you have such a soft spot for me.” She swing another punch and he quickly dodged it. Yuta held her wrist, gently pulling her to the side but Y/N kept on coming to him with punches. She hit his shoulder once but he didn’t flinch making her repeat the punching.  

Yuta stepped backward, laughing at her attempts. His foot reached the edge of the mat at the same time as Y/N landed a punch on his chest. He fell down on his back, dragging Y/N with him. The girl grinned, “I think I just knocked you down.” 

She sounded so proud of herself that it’s comical. Yuta held both her arms, pushing her down to the mat. Him, hovering above her. “The first rule is to never put your guard down.” He can feel her warm breath against his lips. Her fruity smell arousing his senses. A loud heartbeat, he wasn’t sure if it was hers or his, ringing on his ears. 

Yuta stood up as if he’s on fire. Y/N chuckling while lying down on the mat. He reached a hand to help her stand, letting go when she stood up. “Luckily, you will always be here for me.” The side of his lips curled up. 

He didn’t know when it started. Maybe it started even before he realized it. Since his parents work with her family, he became her first friend. When she went to high school, she refused to have bodyguards following her every move so Yuta, being her classmate, became her personal bodyguard. The main reason why he bulked up. 

But it should end now. He can’t be her personal bodyguard forever. Because from the little girl he first met when they were six years old, Y/N had grown to be a pretty woman. And he’s just a guy. A guy who is attracted to the person he needed to guard. 

-----

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said, holding her shoes while running outside their mansion and into the car. Yuta laughed, closing the door behind him then entering the driver’s seat. “Is mom mad?” 

He shook his head, adjusting the rearview mirror to watch if she’s comfortable in her seat. She was putting on her sandals, the skirt of her dress hiking up her thigh that made him cough. “If she asks, just tell her your piano class ended late.” 

“But I don’t have piano classes.” 

“Exactly.” 

The girl smiled. This was one of the things she liked about hanging out with Yuta. Her parents believe him more than her and he’s good at making up excuses. 

It’s not her fault that she enjoyed watching the boxing match on TV and she forgot about the party that her mom kept on reminding her. Honestly, she would rather just stay at home and practice her boxing skills rather than stand in that posh party and act like her mom’s Barbie doll. Why is this the fate of a chaebol’s daughter? 

The car stopped at the entrance of a posh hotel, the valet already opening the door for her. “Are you coming up after parking the car?” she asked but Yuta just shook his head while reminding her to keep her slippers on the side so he can hide them in the trunk. “What if I get bored?” 

Yuta chuckled. “I’ll be drinking coffee in the lobby.” She grinned before getting out of the car and closing the door behind her. 

The elevator ride is boring already but when she came inside the venue, the party made her yawn. Her mom scolded her for arriving late then smiling at her friends which she greeted with a fake smile on her face. She introduced her to one bachelor after another, obnoxious jerks that she knew since she’s a kid. “Didn’t I told you to wear makeup?” Her mom scolded and she hissed, closing her eyes. She’s pissed off that she’s hungry and her feet are aching real bad. She just wanted to go home. 

Maybe she can make a run for it and go to Yuta in the lobby. 

But her mom held her arm, whispering that she should stop being a brat. It wasn’t until her dad said that they should go home since he’s almost drunk that a smile crept on her lips. She almost hurried outside the hotel, grinning when Yuta opened the door for her. “You look like you had fun.” 

She rolled her eyes at that, “I almost died of boredom.” He chuckled before she got inside the car, Yuta opening the front door for Y/N’s dad. 

The car was quiet that surprised him. Normally, her mom will keep on scolding her for her behavior at the party. Maybe she was being obedient today. “Yuta, your dad told me about your family leaving.” He saw movement from the rearview mirror and shrugged it. “Let me know if you need anything.” Yuta nodded, thanking the older man. 

“We know some doctors in Japan. Maybe we can help.” The older woman from the backseat claimed but Yuta just shook his head. He already feels bad about his family moving so suddenly, he’ll feel worse if he let them help his ailing grandmother. This was a decision that his parents had been pondering for a while and when their employer agreed to let them go back to Japan, he can’t say no. 

The car stopped in front of their mansion, the couple getting out of the car but the girl refused to move and even closed the door of the car. She was glaring at Yuta, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re leaving?” 

Yuta sighed. “I can’t find the right timing to tell you.” She rolled her eyes once again. “I’m sorry but grandma is already old and she wants us to go back to Japan.” 

“Can’t you stay?” 

“I can’t, Y/N.” He hissed. “My parents are already old. They need me more.” 

The girl pursed her lips and he cautiously met her eyes from the rearview mirror. “When are you leaving?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Already?” Yuta nodded. The sooner, the better. “Morning?” Again, he nodded. Y/N pouted, squinting her eyes at him. “Can you wake me up before you leave?” 

He smiled, laughing while he turned to her. “You can wake up by yourself.” But she shook her head. “I’ll wake you up tomorrow. Promise.” She grinned, even repeating that he needed to wake her up before leaving the car. 

Yuta sighed, leaning in his seat while taking a silver chain from inside his pocket. His thumb tracing the heart pendant. This was supposed to be his gift for her but seeing as how the other guys from wealthy families gave her diamonds and expensive things, he hid it for months. A knock on the window startled him, hastily putting the necklace in his pocket. He rolled down the window to reveal his dad, smiling at him. “I’ll just park the car.” 

He waited for him outside the mansion as he returned the keys, closing their door in the process. “You know you can stay if you want.” His dad started that made Yuta shake his head. It was his decision to come with them. He can’t stay here and be away from them. They needed him. “I’m sorry, Yuta.” 

“What for, dad?” 

“I should have worked harder and maybe our family is wealthier.” He claimed that surprised the younger guy. His dad is thinking about these things? “You wouldn’t have a problem loving her.” 

A smile crept on Yuta’s face. Of course, they know about it. Everyone does. Except her. 

“It was your mom who found out. You even worked part-time jobs just to get her a present and I felt bad.” Yuta shook his head. They’re the parents he wished for. He doesn’t want anything to change. “Did you at least tell her your feelings?” 

Once again, he shook his head. “It’s just a one-sided crush, dad.” The older tapped his shoulder. “This will pass.” But even he had a hard time believing the words coming out of his own mouth. 

He promised to wake her up and although he’s in front of her room, he can’t have the courage to knock on the door and tell her that they’re leaving. It’s just a crush. He kept on telling himself. This will pass. With a heavy sigh, he put down the necklace on the floor and went downstairs. 

“Did you wake her up?” Yuta smiled, shaking his head. "That girl, really." The older woman was about to leave when the younger stopped her, saying that it's fine. His mom stared at him in worry.

Yuta went inside the cab while her parents thanked the other couple. This is it, he thought. His goodbye to her. His thumb grazed against her smiling photo as his phone wallpaper. His parents both looked at him when they went inside the car, asking if he's alright and he nodded then closed his phone. 

As the car started moving away from the mansion, his phone lit up with her name. He's a coward. He shouldn't be her bodyguard. He closed the phone, removing his sim card and breaking it in half. 

Yuta's goodbye to her. The love of his life. 

The last few years were so good to Yuta. His uncle sent him to a university in Tokyo where he took a course in business administration and start a small business of his own. He met a lot of good people, nice girls from his line of work but sometimes he would trail to thoughts of her. Her smile, her eyes. 

Whenever winter comes, he would think of her grinning excitedly at the thought of snow. When spring comes, he finds himself smiling at the cherry blossoms. Wanting her to see them with her own two eyes. Whenever summer comes, he wished she’s here with him and eating delicious foods at festivals. When it’s autumn, he would dream of them walking under the shedding trees and holding each other’s hands. Then the cycle repeats itself. 

He missed her more as time pass. 

Can he even see her again? Why can’t he fully say goodbye to his feelings for her? 

“I heard there are pretty girls at the party. We should definitely check it out.” One of his business partners claimed, referring to a party happening to a famous hotel in Tokyo. “Maybe this is your chance to forget about that girl.” 

Maybe it is. He should focus on forgetting about her. Maybe this time, he can finally say goodbye to the thoughts of her. 

Surprisingly the more he stayed at the party, the more he was reminded of her. Is this how it feels like being the ‘Barbie doll’? Just standing, smiling, and greeting people when you want to go home and just rest. Seeing how some creepy rich old men were walking to where younger girls are, he thought that these chaebol’s daughters should really have a bodyguard of their own. How is she? Did she find another bodyguard?   

Yuta excused himself outside to get some breath of fresh air. This is dangerous, he kept on thinking about her. He’s failing his mission. “Y/N!” someone called that made him turn to the owner of the voice. A guy in simple shirt and jeans, very different from the semi-formal attire in the party, was looking around the garden. “Y/N, your mom is going to kill me.” 

He really said her name, didn’t he? Before he can walk to where he is, he heard a small sound behind the bushes then some movement. Curious, he peeked behind only to get punched in the face. Hard. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Is he hurt that much? Why is he seeing her? “Yuta?” 

“Y/N!” the sound got closer that made her pull him to hide behind the bushes. 

“What are you…?” She put a hand over her mouth to cover his voice. Their distance so close that he can feel her warmth and the fruity smell that he always associated with her. A loud heartbeat ringing in his ears but now, he’s sure that it was his. 

When the guy went inside the party, Y/N breathed hard in relief. Her head lay on Yuta’s shoulder, catching her breath. “That was so close.” 

He lightly pushed her, moving to the side to create a distance from the two of them. “What were you doing?” 

“Hiding.” she said with a grin. “He’s going to return me to mom and introduce me to some Japanese hotshot." he rolled her eyes while fixing her skirt. "I don't even know how to speak Japanese, I just passed class because…" She lightly glanced at him, her eyes widening in surprise. "Your lip is bleeding." 

Yuta touched his bottom lip, a bright red tint appearing on his thumb. "Maybe because of your punch." She repeatedly apologized, handing him her handkerchief. "Have you been practicing your punches?" 

"I'm training to be a boxer to join the Olympics." 

"Seriously?"  

The girl squinted her eyes at him. "I'm stuck with that lanky guy who can't even land a punch. How am I supposed to protect myself?" 

Yuta laughed then pulled her down in an attempt to hide her from the guy looking for her. "Why are you stuck with that guy anyways? Your dad knew better." 

"Well, my bodyguard left me without even saying goodbye when he promised me..." 

"I'm sorry." Yuta whispered. "Saying goodbye is harder than staying with you." He breathed heavily. "I'm falling deeper for the girl I'm supposed to protect. I'm scared I might hurt you." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

She rolled her eyes at that. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Because I'm a nobody and you're way out of my league, Y/N." 

"You're stupid, Yuta. I didn't even sleep that night and waited for you to knock on the door that morning." She lightly punched his shoulder, earning a yelp from him. Tears were streaming from her eyes that startled him. "I even went to Osaka to look for you." 

He held her cheeks, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He mumbled. “I can’t get you out of my mind as well.” He held her in his arms, her necklace hanging loosely from her neck. He traced the heart pendant, smiling at her. “It looks good on you.” 

She punched his shoulder another time, surprising Yuta. “Don’t hide from me again. I’ll kill you, Yuta.” 

The guy rubbed the spot she just punched, “I don’t think I can be your bodyguard anymore. Let me just guard your heart instead.” Another punch and he just chuckled, pulling her in his arms again.

Yuta smiled. Mission failed. 

He really can’t say goodbye to the love of his life. 

[dynyamight]

I've seen a lot of people do it, so if you are up for it~ Ship your moots!

FINALLY. THE AWAITED LIST OF MOOTS IS COMPLETE. sorry this took forever anon!!

now, this is going to be long & i will try not to overexplain my ship pairings. did i take time to think about each paring? yes. but, will they be serious? no. they are dumb & silly.

let the crack pairings begin <3!!

@dekusneakers x BAKUGOU & TODOROKI now you would think? sneakers in a throuple? how come? mmm simple. i couldn’t choose one for her so she gets both. the more the merrier. besides, she deserves love from both sides, kisses on both cheeks. one begrudgingly smooch & one icy kith. as a deku kin, she’s completely satisfied. you’re welcome

@izusun x AIZAWA & ORCA similarly, i can’t have my bestie here with just ONE babe. so, i thought why don’t we get a fatherly figure & a dad bod to give her all the love she needs. so yes, bestie, you two deserves hugs at both sides of you. a twiggy one & a muscly one. the sun needs some shade, & that shade is these men.

@midnightpirates x SUKUNA he’s a mass murderer !! you can’t— oh, but i can. you see, yanna here hates mahito & guess who was the one to fuck up his shit. ah, that’s right, it was sukuna. two mahito an/tis sitting in a tree <3 it’s the perfect match made in hell.

@goth-himbo-dabi x DOCTOR WHO once again, people might wonder: why not dabi? my answer? it’s because my bby here finds the twiggy men attractive. i know, bummer. & you can’t get any twiggy-er than david tennant & matt smith. but which doctor? all of them.

@minisheku x KAMINARI i see you simp for his dunce face. & honestly, who wouldn’t?? also, i originally put sheepku,, but that’s ,, a bit weird. but, here’s the solution. you OWN a sheepku, with kaminari. ah yes, a modern day family unit. & he can entertain you, as well as be a source of electricity for your drawing tablet !! resources !!

@oyavaski x EN you said he was hot literally in your tags earlier in a reblog. so, i am simply gifting you water to quench your thirst. may you two meet in afo, & fall in love in the subconscious of deku’s mind. will deku feel awks? yeah. but like pfft, he’s so whipped for bkg, he’ll forget you two chilling in the corner of his thoughts.

@okworstie x GOJO & WATARI i never have to look up the gojo tag, like ever. because you’re always plastering his face all over my timeline. & yes, this is a good thing. but, the same applies to watari. i have never even seen bakudiez, or whatever it’s called, but apparently he’s aro, & there’s a moth man, & tape hits post limit thursday’s? yeah just keep both, mimi.

@rrandomtthings x AN/TI as one of fellow loyal, amazing bkdks, i think it’s only fitting that you find true love with a bkdk an/ti. create the banti we seek in our community. the enemies to lovers trope is in your blood, written in your deku genes. so, i dedicate the banti movement with this small offering of a ship. may you find diamonds on the minecraft server & build a diamond cabin.

@believeyourgalaxy x ITADORI you two are such cinnamon rolls !!!! super friendly. super kind. super relatable. & together, you guys can pin over megumi. maybe hopefully, sam can help itadori with his low iq brain to finally get together with megumi. because damn, sam can be like “this is my boyfriend, itadori. & this is itadori’s boyfriend, megumi.”

@wrensknight x SHIRAKUMO i didn’t even know it was oboro birthday, until you not only made a public post about to, but made art for him. cloud boy needs that partner to respect & cherish him entirely. & you just treat him so right?? draw him so good?? i hope you can go cloud watching & then later, ride the clouds with him. till death do you guys uh,, you know,,

@b1m0 x MIDORIYA you can't stand when he gets injured, let alone reckless & trying to save the world, when he should literally be saving his own ass. but, that just means you care about him DEEPLY. plus, you both are wholesome people. obviously two cinnamon rolls make a whole bakery !! & who doesn't want a bakery ?? i sure do! wehjw idk why i brought the point here, but just know you two make sense.

@mysterionrising x RENGOKU & VIGILANTE DEKU it’s that enemies to lovers trope once again !! for someone who wrote him off as annoying the first seconds she met him, kenny sure flipped over to the stan side. ever since then, i can only see kenny when i see rengoku. but, you know who else reminds me of kenny. vigilante deku. it’s super fruity that you have an entire bomb playlist for him. so keep him too !!

@kamishima x KIRISHIMA you are the biggest kiri simp i have ever met. you basically ship kiri with anyone who makes him happy. though, you do have a lot of ships, but with kiri it’s different. & so, i was thinking ‘mmm, if bug ships kiri with so many people?? shouldn’t she ship him with HERSELF?’ boom. suddenly both kiri & bug are happy, with a lovely home. my work here is done.

@ckatsudon x LAW LIET did i dig through your blog. why yes. & you know what i found? reblogs & tags dedicated to L. he’s best boy. he’s precious. he deserves a better end. an end with you. mmhmm !! because if we rewrote death note, where you were light, i think L & light could have been canon. & that also would make you happy. & the rest of the entire world

@drfox-kinnie x UNIKITTY i don’t even know the show, let alone who unikitty is exactly. but, you reblogged a banner, confirming your love for unikitty. & so, i am of course doing you a big favor !! she’s bubbly, friendly, & passionate just like you !! & bestie, while i may not know nothing about her, i know you love her. so, maybe you two platonically have a wonderful time, adventuring with the other wholesome characters !! also,, is she big enough to travel on? if so, look i got you a cat car!!

@midorree x MINACHAKO i ship you with another ship. why? because i can. besides, you are like my moot who is genuinely a head leader of the minachako ship on my timeline, & you have steadily been converting me?? but, i also noticed that mina AND uraraka have stolen your heart, & you have yet to fight them for it back. i hope you three can go into a brawl & see who can grab each other’s hands fastest.

@kiribakuxkacchakolover x HATSUME YOU HAVE IT AS YOUR TITLE HEADER. like you are literally having a billboard that calls mei your cutie patootie. &, you ask, & you shall receive. i hope you two can be the dorkiest nerds together, & ramble for eons & eons. i hope i’m invited to the transformer wedding you two will have <,3

@balaroo x MIRUKO like before, you too have your interest out in the open in your title header. but, you see, miruko is a total babe, with confidence & ego & with this stride that makes even the most alpha male quiver. you would be a total wife to miruko’s girlboss energy & that’s why this ship totally works.

@quix-mix x FREDDY FAZBEAR my precious lil young moot, i dug into your blog & noticed you enjoy the fnaf games. & mmm are you perhaps wanting to cuddle a certain demonic teddy bear? well, i approve. he'll fall in love, head over heels, with your art, he might not possess you right away !! might. but, listen, you always do enjoy the villains (; i gotchu !!

@lonely-rabbit x LANCE you said we’re moots & i agree, we are. however, i have noooo idea what even are your preferences. so, i went digging. & it’s such a coincidence that we bonded over our voltron trauma, & yet you still continue to simp over lance. &, like i don’t blame you !!! he’ll always be dumb baby & so all i ask is that you love him, for our sake. & sanity.

[reidsmemory]

Sick Day

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Genre: Fluff!! Just the cutest stuff :)

Request(s): hi! request, spencer xfem!reader? reader works at the bau but spencer isn’t there (mutual crush or beginning of relationship) so she swings by his apartment to see he has a stomach flue so she helps and takes care of him? fluff? and hi i was wondering can you write a criminal minds fan fiction with a fem!reader x spencer? something like he didn’t show up to work so y/n goes to his place to see he’s sick so she helps comfort and take care of him? it can be an already established relationship, thank you!

Quinn Speaks: Sorry this took such a long time to get out! I also combined both of them cause they were kinda similar so I hope that’s okay. I hope you all like it <3 I’m working on a couple of other things right now as well and hope to get them all out in the next few weeks :))

not my gif!

So it was normal day and Spencer arrived at work with his coffee in hand

Sitting down at his desk he began to start typing up a report from a case you all finished a while ago

You hadn’t arrived yet which was odd because you were usually here before him most days

Spencer would usually tell you random facts before work until someone told him to get back to work 

That was one of the things Spencer loved about you

You would never cut him off or tell him that you didn’t care for his rambling 

The fact was that the young doctor had developed quite the crush on you and was not very good at hiding from the team as Derek had caught on almost immediately

Then the rest of the team found out about it and he had practically begged them to keep their mouths shut around you

They did but would tease on occasion, but no matter what they said you seemed oblivious to his feeling for you

Like the time Derek suggested that you and Spencer go undercover as a couple for a case

Spencer’s face flushed bright red

You had mindlessly agreed and Derek shot Spencer a shit eating grin as Spencer flashed him eyes that said ‘i’m going to kill you slowly’

Emily muffled her laughter and JJ hid her smile

Or the other time that Emily was talking about her latest date and had asked you what you looked for in partner right in front of Spencer

‘Nice, intelligent, and funny’

It was pretty basic and Spencer thought about being those things whenever he was around you

‘I’ve got this friend, he’s tall, brown hair, kind of a dork. He would be good for you’ Emily had said as Spencer blushed as she shot him a wink when you weren’t looking

Before you could answer Hotch entered and had told you all something about the case you were working

By this time everyone had arrived at work except you and he knew something was up

He didn’t want to ask the team as they would tease him even more so he made his way to Garcia to ask her

She didn’t exactly tease as she did ‘ship’

Often time texting Spencer when you were in the room about being her ‘OTP’ or sometimes just rambling about a cute date that he could take you on that he might have taken note of

Garcia had pulled up your personal file and saw that you had called in sick, much to Spencer’s dismay

Penny told him that he should go by your apartment after work and bring you soup 

He had nodded and Penelope squealed loudly as Spencer blushed

He didn’t stop worrying about you for the rest of the day and had decided that he would bring you some soup as Garcia suggested as well as a book that he would pick up from his house as you two would often trade books

So he stood in front of your door and felt the heat already rushing to his face even though he hadn’t even rung the doorbell to alert you that he was here yet

He thought about turning away but then thought if he was in your position he would have loved if you had come by and done this

So he pressed the small button and heard the faint sound of your voice saying ‘just one minute’

You opened the door and Spencer took in your appearance

Your nose and cheeks were quite red and you covered yourself in a fluffy blanket as well as wearing sweatpants and a oversized tee shirt

‘What are you doing here, Doc?’ you asked him as he held up the soup and book as you nodded lightly and moved so he could enter your flat

He saw that you had a TV program running and that you also had multiple blankets and pillows on the couch

‘I just wanted to see if you were okay,’ he rambled on about the statistics of people who live alone and how sick days affect most of them which didn’t put you at ease at all

It was already dark out and you spoke lightly, ‘do you want to stay for a while?’

He nodded and agreed immediately and told you to sit down while he warmed up the soup

You unpaused the show and soon enough Spencer was handing you a bowl that was warm to the touch as well as giving you a spoon

You thanked him and gestured for him to sit next to you 

Spencer was a germaphobe but in this moment he could care less about that and rather focused his attention on helping you and making you feel as good as possible 

You finished the soup and felt your eyes drooping and Spencer could see it too

He didn’t really know how it happened but it did

Maybe it was the way you always sat with each other on the jet or during briefings or maybe it was how Hotch seemed to pair you up with each other whenever you touched down in a new city or maybe it was because he would always jump in front of you or push you aside to take that bullet and you would do the same

He was drawn to you and you were drawn to him

You rested your head on his shoulder and soon it became you laying flat on his chest while he wrapped his arms around your waist and you had yours on his chest

You looked beautiful even with a red nose and slightly puffed out lips as well as you practically being a space heater with the warmness that was coming off of you Spencer made sure to take your temperature 

You both laid there for the rest of the night as Spencer had dozed off too

It was about 3 days later that you arrived back at work and were met with warm smiles and hugs from your team

JJ insisted on taking your temperature and Emily gave you cough drops even though you insisted you were fine

Derek carried all your stuff for you and Penny sent you articles on ‘how to deal with getting back to the workplace’ like you hadn’t been sick before

Hotch made sure to do an evaluation and Rossi offered to cook you something if you needed it you didn’t reject that offer 

Spencer was the sweetest of all he got you tea as well as assisting you with anything that you might need his brain for

This was normal of course

Spencer was always offering to help and getting you coffee or tea but now when he did it you realized the faint blush on his cheeks or how he would stutter or ramble a bit more than he did when he gave something to Emily or Derek

So you got an idea

He was standing over by the coffee machine and you made your way over to him as he poured his third cup of the day

‘I never got to thank you for the other day,’ it was true; when you woke up that morning you apartment looked as if it had been cleaned as well as the fact that you woke up in your bed rather than the couch you had fallen asleep on

He told you it was no problem while stirring sugar into his cup as well as avoiding all eye contact 

‘Seriously, Doc. I want to thank you,’ you lightly smiled as a blush crept it’s way up onto his cheeks as he looked at you, ‘let me take you to dinner’

He nearly spit out his coffee but opted to choke lightly on it

Spencer looked at you like you had just said Doctor Who was the worst TV show 

It wasn’t the exact reaction you were hoping for and so you began to tell that it was okay if he didn’t want to and that it was just a suggestion

Morgan, JJ, and Emily all watched as they cringed when Spencer couldn’t utter any words

Finally Spencer managed to nod his head as a light smile made it way to your face

‘It’s a date’ 

Those words seemed innocent enough to you as you turned to go back to your desk but it left the brown haired man with a gaping mouth and wide eyes

He seemed to stand at the coffee machine forever until Garcia walked in with a mug in hand

She turned to strike up a conversation with the genius only to find him staring right at you with what she described as ‘dreamy eyes’

Penelope nudges him lightly effectively pulling him out of his trance

She urged him to tell her what had happened and when he repeated the words you had said to him she let out a high pitched squeal as a couple heads turned and she apologized

You sat at your desk oblivious of your co-workers gathering and practically dancing with glee as Spencer had told them about your dinner date

He insisted that you probably said it by accident or that it was a common saying but that didn’t stop them from having wide grins on their faces 

The night had rolled around and Spencer walked into the small cafe and greeted the hostess 

Light music was playing and there was warm lighting all over along with beautiful murals

He was surprised he hadn’t been here before

Then Spencer swore time stopped 

You were sitting at one of the tables and were picking at your nails as it was a nervous habit of yours

Were you nervous?? Spencer refused to believe that you were nervous for a friendly dinner date with him

No way

You were wearing a nice dress with a color that complimented your skin perfectly as well as a perfect looking hairstyle

Looking up you saw him and waved as he then made his may over to you and sat down

Soon a waiter came over and took drink orders as you requested a home brewed beer and he took his pick of one of the many fruity alcoholic beverages on the menu

The waiter left and you two started conversing well rather you were doing most of the talking as Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet 

‘Thank you again, Doc,’ you started, ‘I probably would’ve not eaten anything and been miserable the whole night’

He insisted it was no problem and you both shared light smiles

Soon your waiter came back to take your order for food and that came out in no time

The night went on wonderfully

Spencer finally got out of his shell and you talked about everything and anything all night 

Soon you both finished up and had split the bill much to your dismay but Spencer fought you hard on the matter

You both stood outside the cafe under the moonlight and various light fixtures

‘I had a really good night’

‘So did I’ 

Your eyes met and then his flickered down to your lips as you did the same and then both of you leaned in

Both hearts beating fast and both eyes held a mutual love for the other

It was like everything had stopped and like fireworks had gone off as cheesy as that sounds but it was true

Spencer brought his hands up to cradle your face as you both pressed your lips against each other’s 

You pulled away after a few seconds and when you did you saw the cutest smile on Spencer’s face

You laughed a bit and kissed him again lightly 

After that you parted ways 

‘See you Monday, Doc’

“Yeah-yeah Monday’

Both of you went home feeling better than ever and all because of a little cold

[midnightmoonkiss]

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar. 

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out. 

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

 “It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil. 

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?! 

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid. 

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on. 

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

“Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you. 

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up. 

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah. 

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before,  afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became. 

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was. 

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now. 

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’

[dylanxmin]

Arranged Beauty ∣ m.yg

this fic is part of the event that hosted by @ / House of Ddaeng network. 

y/n thought she is way good with being alone and rejects her parents insist on getting marrying with someone they offered, but soon after, she realizes she is not way good with being alone. contrary, she needs that arrange marriage.

pairing; min yoongi x reader

genre; fluff, angst, arranged marriage!ua, first date!au,

warnings; swearings, mention of sexual association, y/n gets bratty for a second but she’s gonna regret that, soft soft yoongi but also brat, jealous yoongi, they both just stupid,,

rating; pg-15

word count; 8.2 k

a/n; i have no idea what i did. it started as a waaay shorter story, but end like this, asfhas,, hope you’ll love this fic as much as like to write it. im curious about what you’ll think about this, so yes, feedbacks are highly appreaciated!! thank you for reading, lots of love ♡

Twenty-six. 

That was the age when your parents started to pressure you to have a decent life. According to them, one can call their life as a decent one, if they are married, but they were also okay with a short time engagement. And when you hit the age of twenty-six, they start to bother you, bombard you with their wills to be grandma and grandpa. 

Your mother's daring character even leads herself to offer you some pictures of the men she knows somehow. Lawyers, doctors, and of course the future CEOs of the very important companies. 

At the age of twenty-six, you thought they were going crazy or trying to make you go crazy. Of course, you vetoed every man she offered you, even though your mom can be very, very persistent, you handled the situation well. Avoiding them until they get sick of your stubborn attitudes, and they stop keeping their hopes high. Well, your little sister's marriage had helped you with the issue, but either because of this and that, they stopped forcing you. 

Even though your parents find it highly pathetic, you finally enjoyed winning the constant fight that was going on for years with them. In your single-roomed apartment, all by yourself, and no one there to heat your cold feet in the coldest days of winter. 

And at the age of thirty-two, you start to think a lot. Overworking, and overthinking yourself with the black space in your chest. 

The freedom you loved so much led you to stay single, one night stands, and the dates you go to a couple of times aside. Most days, it didn't bother you that much. Being alone and being all alone forever. Seriously, it didn't bother that much. Until you find yourself in the loop where you watch only romantic comedies, paying a great deal of money for the napkins, as you find yourself crying until your throat goes sore. 

That's how you found yourself dialing your sister's number, mumbling some bullshit over the phone. Throat sore, eyes puffy and red from all the crying, words falling from your lips, and Eunji finds it too hard to understand what you were talking about. She puts you on speaker, calls for her lovely husband he loves so much, and hoping Hoseok could understand what was going on with you. 

''... not wantin' that. Don' want to die alone,'' freshly married couple only manage to pull these words from your mouth, and couldn't clarify the thing you babbled. 

Does it sound completely pathetic? Well, if you have the authority, you can always blame the cherry martini. And if you have to be honest, despite you don't want to, it was more like lots of gin side with cherries. 

According to what you say to them-- you, of course, couldn't remember what you said. And how much they told your parents, you at the age of thirty-two found yourself in a first meeting. With the man you'll be married.

Arranged marriages weren't your thing, but seeing your friends getting married one by one, having children, and happily married in front of you, basically forced you for doing this. Thirty-two years old so-called modern advertiser gets sick of the loneliness she had and agrees to an arranged marriage. And this is no other person than you.  

When Eunji and Hoseok come to visit you and giving you the big news with a wide grin, you didn't think that they would find someone so quickly, but as the rumor says--rumor was no other than your sister--, the very charming neurosurgeon who is only thirty-five couldn't find himself a decent woman to marry. Not to your surprise, your parents get so hyped up with the news, and to your luck, the man--soon after you learn that his name was Yoongi. Min Yoongi-- happened to be the very best friends of Hoseok. 

Without wasting any more time, your parents meet with each other on the phone, both women burning with the desire for a grandchild, even though they already have. And the fathers, talking formally with each other, and saying how being single after the thirties is dangerous for one's career. Deciding the time and place for both of you two meet, and even your parents decide what you should wear. 

It all feels like you are the head actress in a movie, where your parents forced you to marry the rich man for your family's debt. In all reality, there was no debt or force. Maybe there is a little force, but in the end, you wanted them to find someone for you. When you keep thinking about it, guilt starts to creep towards your chest. Questions with unknown answers fill your mind. 

What if the man turns out as a psychopath? What if he has some weird kinks that you can't handle? The more you think everything scares the shit out of you. You cover your face with your palms, you groan while your head falls on the table. How could you be this stupid to agree on what your parents always wanted? Arranged marriage? What time is this? The late seventies? 

In the internet age, you really did agree on meeting with the man you probably were going to marry in a small coffee shop that your parents chose, wearing a blue dress that also your parents picked. 

Is it too late to go back? What if you leave before he gets here? Probably he doesn't know how you look--as you had no idea about his face or body image. A huge knot sits on your throat, making it hard to swallow your regrets. Not that you were giving lots of crap about someone's look, but what if he is not your type? Is it okay to leave after ten minutes of talk? What if--

''Ih-hım,'' before another ball of questions jerk into your mind, a fruity voice cuts you, ''L/N Y/N?'' while you taking your hands from your face and lifting your head from the table, the comforting fresh odor fills your nostrils even before you see the man. ''Y--yes,'' 

Between in your slight nods, twinkling your eyelashes while staring at the man in front of you. Thick blonde haired-man eyeing you above, a light smile hangs on his face, square glasses stand under the button nose. Contrary to your dismay, he is looking good. His smile gets wide, hangs his hand in the air, ''I'm Min Yoongi. It's nice to meet you,'' 

It takes a couple of minutes before you realize that you should greet him the way he did. Even though you try hard not to act like an idiot, you are flummoxed by his sudden appearance. The voice of the chair tumbling to the floor echoes in the shop, causing all the heads to turn towards you when you clumsily get up. ''Oh, I'm so.. sorry,'' you jabbered after your head bumps to the man's when both of you try to fix the chair. 

''I'm really sorry,'' you utter in agony and guilt. Probably you look like an idiot, rather than only feeling like it. He smiles and waves his hand like it's nothing after adjusting your chair. ''I'm not going to suffer from it, don't worry,'' he chuckles, eyes staring deeply. Even though he isn't much taller than you, his soft but scanning glares made you feel smaller. He put his hand in his pocket, flexing his shoulders while standing inches away from you. Before your mind works properly and offers him to sit, you keep watching his sight. Eyes wander, settles on the others without landing on you, glancing up to the ceiling. 

''Oh my--Please take a seat,'' you plead, gesturing the chair across from the table. His brows raise with your high pitched voice, but the soft smile takes its place without wasting time. He nods, taking his seat in front of you. The reason why you act like this is both caused by how attractive he is, and how nervous you are. Either way, you feel dump while sitting across from him. 

After you take your place, long silence arises between you two. So, you take the advance from this silence by scanning him. From head to toe. 

He is wearing a dark blue sweater, a black coat on top of it, with black pants. The only colorful thing was his blonde hair, and it surprises how he looks so good with it. One glance and anyone could understand how important he is and the job he does. He is intimidating, contrary to his small smile on the corner of his lips. When your stare meets with him, you understand that he is scanning you the same way you do. Were you looking good? Does the dress look stupid in this weather? Despite his coat and sweater, you were wearing a blue thin dress with black spots. You wonder if the cut on the dress is too low or not. Not that you can do anything about it. 

''So, you are a doctor?'' his eyebrows rise with your statement. It was stupid of you, but the bizarre silence only causes you to grow more anxious. Yoongi places his hands on the table, holding his laugh on the back of his throat. He feels how anxious you are, and he enjoys how your expression changes when you think you said something stupid. He finds it cute. He nods and smiles while your face goes pink. ''Neurosurgeon, yes.'' 

''Cool,'' blinking your lashes, you start to nod in small. You didn't know if he is interested in you or the opposite, so you didn't want to make, or say something weird and scare him away. So, when the waiter came and took your orders, you thanked him mentally. Because you were at the edge of asking how much money he makes, and looking like a total gold digger. Aish... why can't you act like a normal woman for a minute? 

''And you?'' the husky voice of the semi-stranger made your heart flinch and gathered all of your attention to himself. You tilt your head and he sees your glazed face. ''What you do for a living?'' he asks one more time. Rather than finding you oddly idiot, he likes the way your cheeks go pink. ''Ah. Work. You mean... my job,'' he nods, the smile bigger now. ''I-I'm working for an advertisement company... yes,'' normally you would find your job highly amusing and cool, but with him, you feel small. Like the job you have was nothing, as he touches brains every day. Oh... you feel like an idiot. A real idiot. 

''Oh. That's cool,'' he smiles, nodding his head the same way you did. And he enjoys the way your cheeks blushes after his little tease. 

And you couldn't understand why he was acting so... kind. Contrary to all the things you did, which they were very stupid, he didn't mind them. Rather, he looked like he enjoyed them, and this literally made you feel uneasy. It was strange. Yes... strange. 

''Really?'' you tilt your brow, ''You think that's cool? Or, are you trying to insult me?'' his eyes went round, blinking them a couple of times. 

''Did I sound like that?'' he lifts his hands up, fixing his posture to emphasize and look sincere to you. ''I didn't mean to sound like that. I'm sorry and of course, I am not trying to insult you nor the job you do.'' you nod, expecting his apology. It was your time to enjoy the way he looks dumbfounded. 

''Iced americano,'' when the waiter comes with your orders, you hear him release a long breath under his breath. The way he takes a sip from his cup, and not knowing where to look kinda warms your heart, and you feel bad for mocking him, but still, you were having fun with this. 

After a couple of minutes of silence, you decide it wasn't fun to mock with him. Instead, it killed the mood and now Yoongi wasn't talking, probably too scared to talk with a psycho like you as you just accused him something he didn't do like some hebete. And the way you found it funny, left its place to regret while you were playing with your mug, chewing inside of your mouth in guilt. 

''H-how did you met with... Hoseok?'' yes, you know it is a lame question to ask but the stupid awkwardness was eating you alive, and you want it come to an end.  

''College,'' he pressed his lips together, eyes carefully sizes you up as he doesn't want to say something to offend you. And you were sure that was going to be the last thing he said, and probably leave after drinking his coffee in rush. But he surprises you with the sudden giggle. ''In the first year of college, we decided to go to a Carnival and I still don't know why we decided to do it. But in the roller coaster, suddenly someone held my hand and never left it until it stopped--''

''Oh my... don't tell me it was Hoseok!'' you jerk your hand to your lips, very amused by the new information he gives. 

''Jackpot.'' he doesn't even try to hold his smile back, nodding his head cutely. ''I had to take care of him for the rest of the night. Because he was so frightened and needed someone.'' both of you start to laugh with the memory of him. Even though you would never think Hoseok would do that, somehow you could imagine him doing that. Somehow that suits him well. 

''Yoongi, you gave me the best card ever against him.'' you chuckled, wiping the tears from your eyelids. ''He will feel remorse over setting this meeting,'' your stomach starts to ache a little from the laugh you share with him. And you were glad that he didn't let go of this date and made you laugh like this. 

Yoongi waved his hand while leaning to take a sip from his cup, ''He will probably kill me for telling you this.'' the corners of his mouth turned up before he talked again. ''You should protect me from him as I share this with you.'' you exchange looks with him. The playfulness of him surprised you and how he changed the mood so smoothly. 

You nod with a smile on the corner of your lips, staring at his eyes. ''Of course. I will.'' 

After exchanging the memory of your mutual friend, the bleak mood left its place to a warmer one. There were a couple of good jokes, more questions to get to know each other better, and you almost forgot that this was the arranged date and you had so much fun rather than you assume. With the timid glances, leaning each other to hear better, and the way you two get closer in time felt like a real date. Not a date your parents arranged. 

Now you know about his love for music, and one could never doubt his passion for it. The way he talks about it causes your heart to hum, seeing how his eyes go all shiny while showing you his carefully made it playlist warmed your chest, you can't lie. Seeing someone getting this enthusiastic about the thing he loves brought the memories of how you liked to paint at one time. Getting all dirty while trying to achieve your goals, nose went numb because of the smell. You loved it. 

Somehow, the blonde man finds his way to your heart, and you had no objections to this. 

''Okay, tell me yes,'' you tear yourself off from the memories, and adjust your focus on him. Hands up in the air, eyes gleaming in anticipation. 

''I will,'' you said in a curious tone, seeing the corners of his mouth turning up, ''If, I know the reason,'' 

You giggle the way his eyes going round, he looks like you betrayed him. A thing about him always finds its way to make you feel relaxed around him, and it was like you knew him for more than three hours. ''After all the things we share, all the laughter and all these minutes. I thought you would say 'yes', but I guess I'm a fool,'' 

''Uh, if you are going to be this dramatic, then yes. For what is in your mind,'' you can't ignore the gasp that escaped his mouth, hand wraps his heart, shushing to fix the broken pieces of it. ''We were thinking about treating her with the best chicken wings in the country, but she decides to act rude. Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?'' he pouts, faking an attitude. 

''Oh. Pardon me and my bad mouth.'' you decide to continue the game he started. ''From now on, I won't have a second doubt about saying 'yes'. Promise.'' his mouth curved into a smile after you lifted your pinky finger in the air, and without wasting time, he wraps his around yours. 

''And tell me more about those chickens,'' you say, stealing a laugh from his chest. 

''Oh my--god.'' your hiccup interrupts you while laying yourself on the back of the booth. You lick the sweet chilly from your finger, having a food baby in your stomach never felt this good. It was the best chicken you ever eat, and you almost started to cry after tasting it the first time. The sweet chili sauce and the crispy cover on the chicken wings just blew your mind and took your mouth with it. If you could, you would eat a dozen of them. 

''Right!'' Yoongi voices with pleasure, takes another bite to fill his mouth, ''This brings heaven to your mouth. No less.'' your laugh cuts in the middle as a cramp finds its way to your stomach. You really ate too much. 

''You were right, but I guess I'm going to faint.'' opening the little packet, you start to clean your fingers with the wet wipe, the sharp smell immediately fills your nostrils. You did enjoy every bite, it wasn't a lie. But you could feel the heaviness on your stomach from all the eating and the drinking. You were over thirty and there was no point worrying about eating too much or drinking beer on the first date. 

To be honest, you would worry about this if the date was not with him. But with him, with Yoongi you don't feel the need for acting differently. You like the way you can do whatever you want to do. 

''What about another round?'' his eyes gleamed with a mischievous hint. It was triggering the ache in your stomach, and as every sensible human being, you should say no. But the sweet taste lingers on your teeth, numbs your tongue with its savor. 

''You are inviting me to sin.'' you wipe the corner of your mouth while trying to lean towards him, but the body feels like a ton. Despite the ache and the handicap on your way to breath, you reveal a big grin. How could you say no while he looks at you with those bright browns? You couldn't. ''And I'm happy to participate in this. Course you need to pay for my hospital expenses,'' 

He lets out a choked, husky laugh. Holding his stomach while serving you the best gummy smile, and looks deep into your eyes after adjusting his posture. ''Believe me,'' the way he licks his bottom lips just does something to you. Levitates your stomach, sticks your breath on your throat. If someone would ask you, you would gladly accept to watch him sit in front of you. That's something you are sure about. ''You won't regret eating too much of this. No one can.'' 

He holds his hand up after tearing his eyes from you, calling the waitress for the second round. A grin stuck on his lips, you stupidly believe him. You would believe if he said he is the president of the world, and that was stupid. But you didn't mind, as your heart never filled with this much joy for so long. 

With a wiggle in your stomach, you feel heavy on the heart. Overwhelmed by his actions, the way he affects you. The way he has the cutest, heartwarming smile made you angry as he had no right to look like this. With the blonde hair, smart-looking glasses, and the round button nose that you just wanted to boop your finger. 

It was enough to catch you on his spell but too much for your poor heart.

You know that you owe a big thanks to Hoseok for arranging this date-- you didn't know what this was, to be honest. Was it a date that he agreed just for fun and not calling you in the morning, or is he thinking this is more serious than a silly date? You didn't even know what or how to think about this. Yes, you agreed to an 'arranged marriage' thing with your parents, but were you going to marry the first man you date? Were you going to decide after one date? 

Whether deciding it after the first date, or the first man, you only know one thing. And that is the amount of joy and happiness you feel heavy on your chest. Only watching him while he is eating chicken wings in extreme delight was enough to change the speed of your heartbeats, so you had only one thought. Letting him decide. 

Your judgment wouldn't be clear or sensible, you know that as the heat on your chest won't stop growing minute by minute you spend with him. 

Letting him decide if this is just a one-time thing he just agreed for his friend's sake, or he would consider marrying you. You didn't know if handing the ball in his hands was being selfish or the contrary, but you just want to enjoy the moment and not overthink it. Or about him. 

No lie, you liked him. Maybe even too much for the first date, but screwing this up the last thing you want as you always do. Selfish or not, you choose not to make a decision. 

''Can I open my eyes, now?'' 

Everybody would like a little excitement in their life, as well as you. But you never imagine that excitement would be like this, taking somewhere on your first date with a blindfold. It was much more likely a napkin from the place you ate the chicken wings than a blindfold, but it didn't change the result. 

Yoongi decided to take you somewhere you could burn the calories you have been whining about. Probably you wouldn't come up with an idea about the place, but as you were almost walking for almost ten minutes, it should be close. Thinking and trying to guest the destination was useless, as you never came here before. 

One second you were worrying about marriage, but now, all that worry turns into losing your lungs. If you could stop being dramatic, you trust Yoongi enough that he wouldn't do such a thing, but would you ever stop? That is trickier than taking away by a blindfold. 

You hear Yoongi's sigh, very likely getting sick of your questions, as you never shut up asking questions. But how could you stop exactly? How could you expect him to hold you by the wrist, covering the napkin on your eyes after handling the check and saying he knows how to burn those calories. He is not resembling a creep, but who would do and say such a thing? It is suspicious. 

''Okay. You would probably slap me after finding out where we are, and the unnecessary act of cutting your sight,'' he pauses to let a giggle, hands of him leave your waist and wrist, ''Either way, prepare to defeat Y/N,'' 

Before his fingertips find the hem of the napkin and free your eyes, you collect the latest clues about the place and the thing he said. A couple of boy's voices reach your ears, shooting and directing each other. The very last hints you could get before the lights dazzle your eyes. 

''Ow,'' you whispered, covering your eyes to protect them from lights in a reflex. 

Yoongi stands there, waiting beside you while you blink your lashes in the cutest way possible, watching your eyes go between him and the basketball court. The corner of his mouth quirked up, enjoying way too much with how you look at him with wide eyes in awe. ''So?'' he holds his arms in the air, makes a circle with his body, and stops after turning his face to yours once again with a proud smile on his lips. 

''So?'' you repeat, tilting your brows. Seeing the three boys playing basketball on one of the hoops, the other one is empty, waiting for you two to play on there. There was another couple of people who were sitting on their portable chairs, drinking from their cups, and laughing. It was them and the boys who were too caught up with their game but even thinking to play in front of them made you nervous. It was duskily illuminated, but still, you had worries to play. 

''What, too scared to play with me?'' pale blond lifts an eyebrow, seeing the timid look on your eyes, he leans over, brushing his shoulder to yours, ''You know you can't beat me, don't you?'' a sheepish smile stands on his face to tease you. Yoongi didn't know about you too much, yet he could understand pushing your legs would pay. 

''Tch, please.'' just the way he thought, your ego beats your anxiety. ''I could crush you with my amazing triple shoots,'' you stick your tongue out, can't help but act like three years old while challenging him. The way you act, causes him to burst into a laugh. When he thinks you can't look cuter than before, you stand in front of him, sticking your tongue out. He must have done something so good to have you in return. 

''Well well, then you should show me those 'amazing' shoots,'' while you tilt your brows for the second time today, he leaves you in surprise, turning his back at you and starts to walk away. 

''We don't have a ball to play!'' you try to remind him, yelling at his back but he turns around, grin on his face. If he tries to look cool, you know he won't look his butt on the ground because walking backward isn't cool, or a sensible thing to do. ''You think?'' he shouts back, the mischievous glow could be seen from where you stand. 

What does 'you think' mean? You don't have a ball to play if he didn't plan this before and take one with himself but to your knowledge, you are not blind. Because one can see the orange ball-- You could go on the debate in your mind if he wasn't talking with the boys you notice before, taking their ball after having a small talk with them. 

Yoongi walks over you, bounces the ball, swirling it around his body. Basically showing off, trying to surprise you with the moves he made. You watch as the wind messes with his hair, how he grips the ball, and bounce it like a professional. He is good at what he does, and you could understand that with a glimpse of look, but also you can catch the way his eyes follow the ball, lips curled up with the delight he feels. 

You cheer for him when he passes the ball between his legs, without paying it much effort. You didn't know he was this good, as he never mentioned his interest in it, but seeing it with your bare eyes rather than just mentioning is way better. Well, little did he know you haven't shared the same interest with him. 

''Okay Jordan, pass me the ball,'' you wave your hand, directing him where to stand after he throws it. He giggles the name you call him, blessing your ears while waiting for you to make a shoot. 

It's only been a day, yet you feel like knowing him more than one day, way too comfy around him while talking, eating, or acting. You don't know if this is one of your dreams, where it affects your subconscious because all of the romantic movies you had watched too much in depression. Or simply, this man who makes you do stupid things like eating dozens of chicken wings is just a wizard. And you are affected by one of his spells, can't make proper decisions, and probably he isn't this good looking. It is all because of the spell he did. 

His eyes are not this bright, his cheeks are not that cute and tempting you to squeeze them. Or his lips are not that mesmerizing and you only want to taste them every time he smirks just because of the damn spell. You are old enough not to charm by a hair, yet all you want to do is bury your fingers in that velvety fuzz. 

''Are you gonna show me those shoots or too scared to move?'' his mouth twisted, pale skin peeking under his sweater and the coat he is wearing, glowing shamelessly. You nod, plastering a smile on your lips, can't get enough of his teasing. Even though you want to see his face after the shoot you are going to, retarding is more enjoyable. 

So when you throw the ball with a false effort, causing it to fall inches away from the hoop, you hear the squeaked laugh you never heard before. Apparently, it was too funny for him as he almost kneeled in front of you from laughing, holding his stomach while his shoulders shake. ''Well, we can say that wasn't the amazing one so far, huh?'' he teases while wiping his eyelids. You could offend by his actions if this isn't all an act, and in reality, he is the one who should laugh at. 

''Trying again? Okay, I can teach you the right way after that,'' you want to throw the ball to his head, his cockiness amazed you as you bite your lip to hold your laugh behind. The popular neurosurgeon was nowhere to be found when you eyed him. And you like the way he leaves the maturity aside, having fun with you and the time you two spend. You could easily say after spending enough time that he wasn't acting, the laugh that leaves his throat is real, as well as the shine in his eyes. Part of you doesn't want to wreck his mood or turn off the cocky light in his eyes but on the other hand, you desperately want to see his face after you stop acting and shoot a real basket. 

You bet the blonde prig won't be expecting you to take an oh so good shoot, and the cunning side of you wants to wipe that smile on his face. You want it so bad and can't help the way your body moves to the right corner, dividing your strength equally to your legs and arms before taking a shoot. With a light jump, you send the ball right into the basket, it takes two turns on the hoop before passing through it. It wasn't the best triple shoot, but you only played it in your free time with your family, yet you know that your body reveals that you played basketball very well. Much to his dismay, it was a perfect basket. You turn your head as you want to see his face, putting your hands on your waist and serving him a big grin. ''How about this one?'' the hint of your laughter can clearly be heard by him, not that you want to hide. 

He stares. 

And he stares for a long one minute, not talking nor giving you an idea with his expressions. After fixing your posture, your lips quirk in a pout, brows furrowed as you can't understand why he hasn't said anything or did. A knot sits on your stomach, you want to say something but your mouth goes dry with the uncertainty. While the deep silence takes over around you two, finally he shows a feeling on his face. 

A line appeared between his brows, a beam flash past in his eyes, and he started to walk over to you. 

Was he angry? Because you can throw a ball? Yes, you wanted some reaction, but anger wasn't the quite close expression you expect. With every step he takes, the hair on your body stands on end as you didn't know what to say. So you try to ease the nervousness you felt, ''Not so cocky after seeing this girl can play, huh?'' you mock, pointing yourself with your forefinger, wiggling your brows before he stands in front of you. 

Way... way too close. 

He stands so close that you could even see the little mole on the left side of his face, right beside his nose placed cutely on his cheek. The tiny whiteness on the same side of his lips, breaking the proportion but adding him another sweet flaw. You even pay attention to his facial line on the side of his nose, only to abstain from his eyes. Abstaining from capture by his lovely, velvety browns. And when he starts to speak, you can smell the chili sauces mixed with the beer he drank. 

''Can you wear my coat?'' with a mouth that slowly opens, you stare at him without blinking. He tilts his brows slightly, it was tiny and almost non-visible, but you catch the twitch on his jaw. 

''I'm sorry but, what?'' you baffled, obviously not expecting him asking that, and can not put it on logic. Under his bashful stare, you hear the sound when he takes a deep breath between his teeth. Cocking your head aside, you try to evaluate if you are cold or not, but you know that you haven't done anything for him to take as a hint that you are cold. Darting your eyes at him, your stomach flips over after realizing how good he looks under the slight street light that illuminated the court, the shadow of his eyelashes falling on his cheeks, mesmerizing with every blink. ''Y... you want me to wear your coat. And that's why? I'm not cold if this is what you think--'' 

''It's not. Not because you are cold,'' you watch him slipping his fingers on his hair, ruining the straight strands with a pout. Yoongi opens his mouth, but the weight of his words feels too much, he closes it again. He is thirty-five years old and should be mature enough to press this puberty feeling, and not want to cover you with his coat so no one can see the way your dress moves, expose the skin you covered with the same dress that betrayed you. And also, he knows he is not in the place to tell you what to do, or get jealous the way the others who size you up. But the first time after he gets mature enough, Yoongi can't find control over his emotions. ''I thought... thought that you could feel uncomfortable with the... dress,'' 

''Oh,'' you bite your bottom lip after getting caught off guard. Not that you are irritated or think it's possible, but is he just jealous, or is this just your mind playing games and causing you to think the impossible one? 

''But you don't have to. I mean if you are okay with your dress. You just don't... don't have to wear this.'' bubbles of laughter fills your throat as he stands stunned with wide eyes, 'o' shaped mouth is enough to melt your heart and spread heat to your chest. You bite harder your lip to hold your laugh, bend your head staring your shoes. ''Is it too distracting for you to beat me, Yoongi?'' darting over your eyes at him, you open them wide, rolling his name on your tongue only to tease him more. Getting even closer to his face, you talk in a pout. ''Do you think it's can affect others just the way it does to you?'' 

An almost unhearable whimper leaves his lips, shaky breath hits your cheek. A shade of embarrassment crept towards his cheekbones, increasing his cuteness. He stares speechless, you could only catch the loud gulp from his throat and you know it is enough of teasing him. 

''Okay, I'm admitting.'' taking a step back, you pat his shoulder. ''I'm a little cold, and it looks cozy.'' you lie while pinching his coat. His dull expression slowly fades, the corner of his lips tilt in the shape of a smile. Eye bags puffing up, face lines appear only to puss his soft cheeks on his cheekbones. 

You are not going to admit this to him, but the way your heart flinches under your chest, the way his soft smile cuts your breath, and the way your fingers physically pains to touch his cheeks just unbearable to hold on. At first, you only thought that his lips were in a good shape, can be even called cute but right now, they were just tempting. It was almost aching how your feet itch to take a step closer, and closer until your breaths can mix with each other, and the so imagined taste meets with your lips. 

''Here,'' he acts, taking his coat off of him swiftly to wrap it around you, and he does gently. Helping you to pass your arms in its sleeve, patting your shoulders after he links each button, as he looks way too pleased with the gummy smile that pinned to his face. ''Better now?'' he asks sincerely, wanting to make sure of your comfort, so you nod in appreciation. 

The heat immediately rushes over to your body, you thought you were joking before but after feeling the relaxation on your muscles, you surprise how cold you were. Wearing a dress in this weather without any coat was a big mistake, you noted. 

''So, if there is nothing you can object to, can we go on and play? Or, are you too scared?'' he scoffs at your playfulness, tilting a brow. Yoongi does not know how to react the way you wiggle your brows, the way you dare him with the buffoon smile. Luckily, he has another plan on his mind. ''So eager to taste the defeat, huh? All right then, I will give you a lesson.'' 

''Hah. Bring it on--''

''-But, before you get all moody, I want to do something.'' in return of his sparkling browns, your lips curl into a pout. Not expecting him to cut you off like this, even though he didn't do it without having any kindness. It only takes two seconds for you to realize what he was up to when his palms cover your cheek, timid touches of his fingertips on your skin. Is he going to kiss you in public? In your first time? Should you object? Between trying to ease the chaos on your mind, and understanding if you want this or not, hot breath already stands way too close to your lips. It was not a lie that you were thinking about kissing him a minute ago, but when this happened as a reality, you stand there like a deer in the headlights. 

Before you can choke yourself with overthinking, his whisper cuts it. ''Can I?'' he raises his brows, asking for your permission one more time before going for it, making sure of your emotions and thoughts about himself. Eyes of him scan yours pleadingly, as he was trying to emphasize his intentions. You were so nonplussed by what he was up to that you couldn't even move a muscle, only blink hard enough to capture the moment, face turning scarlet with the heat just crept towards. Feeling your heartbeats on your cheeks, under his fingertips. Every loud hammer brought your heart over your mouth, mouth dried completely. But you manage to voice, almost inaudible. 

''Please,'' 

When you met with his lips, it wasn't soft as you expected due to his dried lips, but soon after it changed. After you part your lips to capture his bottom lip between yours, a ball of warmness just explodes. Reaches till your fingertips from your chest, tiny mewl slides by you with the strong rhapsody you have inside. 

It was palm pulling, lips trying to deepen the kiss kind of keenness you both felt for learning, acknowledging each other. Soon after one of his hands left your cheek to pull you closer as your fingers weren't enough to do so. The others were long forgotten, it was just you and him. Everywhere was clouded, protecting your intimacy from others. 

You were only tasting, knowing, and capturing each other. 

When the kiss broke out as both of you needed fresh air in your burning lungs, you were shocked by the way you carried away by your desire. You, probably Yoongi too, was feeling the same way, find this very immature, unwisely but the thing you feel, and wish that he was feeling the same way you do was beyond your imagination. The attraction was between you from the first time you started to bond today, but you could never think that would be this euphoric. 

Between heavy breathing, and adjusting the moment you just shared cuts off by his hoarse voice. ''Was this highly good or is it just me?'' you snort at his silliness, slap him by the head before he can react. 

''You'll get your answer if you can beat me,'' tearing yourself apart, you take the ball despite his whines. But as he sees you won't step back, he sends hair-raising glares at you. 

Soon after, the contest loses its solemnity and turns into something where Yoongi chases you with the ball to throw at you. And you found yourself giggling, running away while screaming in tiny. With a glance at you two, and no one would believe you two for being over thirty but it felt so good to act without caring for anyone. You almost forget the feeling of happiness, cooing from joy, and having someone not minding your bullshits even on day one. 

Of course, you accept how the kiss felt 'highly good', holding your palms up in surrender, before laying on the grass. Not that you lost the game, more likely from winning the better prize. The blond neurosurgeon, at age thirty-five was your prize. To be honest, he is the best thing that happened to you in ages without any exaggeration. For all you know is that maybe arranged marriages were not that bad. 

Frankly, you wouldn't dare to lie and say you still object it while watching the man beside you. He gave you more than you expected. The comfort, happiness, and tickling bubbles on your chest. And you hope that would last long enough to the day you knew each other like an open book. As you wanted to know and more about him, every little detail, and every tiny mimic he makes. 

And you will see that day if you are lucky enough.

''We are out of rice!'' you flinch with the loud voice, take a big sigh at the view you see in the mirror. Lipstick extends along to your right cheek from your lips, as the outcome of hearing the thick voice without any warnings. ''And the last toilet paper just finished!'' tsking audibly, you take the wet tissue to clean the mess you made. While wiping the ruins of the lipstick, you hear the whining voice once more, closer this time. 

''We don't have any toothpaste, either. God, why don't we have anything? Aren't you supposed to take care of the grocery this time? It was your turn,'' the man is nothing but in black sweatpants and a white shirt appears, constant grumble on his mouth trying your patience. ''You have lipstick on your cheek,'' he points his face to address where the stain is as you lock your gaze on him by the mirror. 

''You don't say,'' lifting the brows you watch him narrowing his eyes, scoffing at your answer. ''And I was thinking why I have wet tissue on my hand. Thank you, babe.'' he rolls his eyes, sighs while ruining his hair. Black hair flies in the air, every pinch falling another direction and it warms your heart. Your husband dyed his hair black from blonde after having a white hair crisis and deciding to dye it for good. Not that you didn't like the blonde hair on him, but black was something different. It gave destructive charisma to him that you adore so much. 

It is the greatest thing since sliced bread. 

''When you say they'll bring Hoseong and Aera again?'' after finishing the cleaning, you turn to your husband who asks nonchalantly but the light in his eyes says he is happy. ''They'll be here any time soon. Why?'' 

He shrugs a shoulder, acting as he is not interested. ''Just curios. I'll adjust my appointments so,'' you nod, giggling as you decide to reach him. Leaving your bean bag chair, you take a two-step to wrap your arms around his neck. 

Brushing your nose to his, ''You love to hang out with them, don't you?'' you ask, mentioning your nephews. Even before he admits, you already knew that he adores them. Hoseong at nine and Aera at seven years old buck of happiness for Yoongi, and you can see it in his eyes. The way he plays with them, caring for them always puts a light serene in your heart, but you two never mentioned having a child. Soon after you are scared to open it as you are afraid that he doesn't want to have kids, but the love he had for your nephews always confused your mind and heart. 

''Well, they are fun to hang out,'' he tears his eyes from you but you catch the attempt to hide the smile he had. Lips forcefully stay flat but gaze full of bubbles. But when you tilt your brows, staring at him with a pout, you break him. ''Okay, okay... I love those chubby kiddos. You know how smart they are, don't you? Aera asked my opinion about Pluto, whether it's a planet or not. Can you believe it?'' 

''You are so whipped,'' you let out a laugh that wrinkles your eyelids. His enthusiasm over your nephews made your day, a bolt of laughter spilled by your lips over and over again until you managed to ease it. ''such a cute man,'' wiping your tears away from your face cut by his hands when he grabbed yours. 

''Y/N, did you... did you ever think about having a child? I know we never talked about this all these years, but I guess... No, I know I want one. Yes, I want us to have a child to raise together.'' his eyes burned with determination. It was enough for you to know he really serious about it. There was nothing for you to obligate it if you look. Both of you get paid well, had a nice home and big enough even for two kids, moreover, both of you love each other so much and you know that you two will love the exact same way if you have a child in this home. ''What do you think?'' 

Taking a deep breath to ease your thoughts you eyed the man you adored so much. His keenness sparkled in his eyes, waiting for your answer to be the happiest man alive. Even if you wouldn't want a kid in your life, you couldn't break his heart by saying no, but fortunately, you want this as much as him. 

''I would love to have a baby who has the same gummy smile you got on there,'' Yoongi, your husband coos after what you said, holding you by the waist and twirls your body with himself. He acts like you just said you are pregnant, but you laugh and kiss him back when his soft one finds your lips. He thanks, swears that he will be the greatest dad and husband for this family. 

The ring on the door cuts his words, tearing himself apart from you, he leaves to open the door wiggling his body in great joy. But you believe him. You would believe him even if he hadn't sworn and put his heart on it. He already was the best husband ever, and you had nothing to worry, frighten for. He will be the best dad in this world, as you know because he said so. Just like the time, he said you two will make a good couple after he took you home on your first date. As he said, you took his heart and his last name after four years. 

Never regretting for one second on agreeing to go on an arranged date. And you knew that you won't have any other regret in the future, either. Not with the sweetest neurosurgeon you love so much. 

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Miami Nights (Ethan x MC)

Warning: 18+, NSFW.

Summary: While in Miami to celebrate their upcoming wedding, Ethan and Naomi sneak away from the festivities to have their own celebration.

A/N: Like all of my NSFW fics, this was 100% self indulgent and written with only me in mind. 

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @mal-volaris @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. And if your tags do not work, I’m sorry, and blame Tumblr. ~v~ In a perfect world, Ethan Ramsey would be at home, on his couch, a good book in one hand and a tumbler of scotch in the other. The last place he necessarily wants to be is in the crowded bar of a Miami hotel, sandwiched between a 21 year old girl and her friends, and some guy crying into his pint of beer.

The things Ethan does for love.

Coming to Miami was Naomi’s idea. She wanted a fun weekend away for their bachelor and bachelorette parties, and Miami was the only place she even considered going. What better way to celebrate their upcoming nuptials than to go to the city, specifically the hotel that started it all?

He hasn’t seen her all day, her friends kidnapping her as soon as their plane touched down. He misses her. They’ve been attached at the hip ever since they began dating, even more so after she moved into his condo, and being without her feels strange, even if it’s only for a night. And while he’s grown fond of Naomi’s merry band of misfits, spending the entire night with Bryce, Elijah, and Rafael requires more patience than he has.

He’s spent the entire day with them, and his capacity to be around other people has reached its limit. So while the guys were making plans of going to a strip club, Ethan left altogether, quietly slipping out of their room.

Ethan feels a tap on his shoulder. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

He’d recognize that voice anywhere, the slight drawl of Naomi’s accent when she has to pronounce certain words. Once he’s turned around, all thoughts of what he could possibly say are gone.

After two years together, Naomi’s beauty shouldn’t stun him anymore, but she still manages to render him speechless.

“Wow,” is the word his brain finally settles on.

Forever the drama queen, Naomi twirls around so her fiancé can get a full look at the sparkly dress she’s wearing. “I take it you like the dress?”

“You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” Her eyes sweep over Ethan, taking him in. He’s not doing anything in particular, but his presence is still commanding and magnetic. “You look pretty handsome yourself. Now, do you care to tell me why you’re missing your bachelor party?”

“I didn’t want to go to a strip club,” Ethan says simply. “And Lahela kept referring to us in third person, calling us ‘The Boys’ all night. It was becoming tiresome, so I left.”

“You can’t leave your own bachelor party.”

“Says the woman who ditched her bachelorette party,” Ethan shoots back.

Naomi rolls her eyes. “I only left my bachelorette party because you texted me to meet you down here.”

“I was simply over the night,” he says with a shrug. “We did a bit of gambling, we went to a cigar lounge, we got dinner. That’s more than enough entertainment for me. The other guys will be fine for the rest of the night if I’m not there.”

“Well if you’re checking out for the night, so am I.”

“No, you can still enjoy the festivities with your friends.”

Naomi shrugs. “Kyra and Sienna went too hard on the tequila shots at the club, and they’re currently passed out. Aurora, Jackie, and I were just in their room talking.”

“About anything in particular?”

“Mostly hospital gossip, nothing major.” Naomi takes a step forward and wraps her arms around Ethan’s neck. “Take me to our room, we can order room service and have our own celebration.”

One of Ethan’s eyebrows raises at the command. His hand travels to his fiancée’s hip, squeezing roughly. “Oh yeah? What kind of celebration?”

“I don’t know,” Naomi says, playing coy. “But I’m sure you can come up with something, doctor.”

~v~

They manage to get to their floor in record time, after Ethan requests that a bottle of wine get sent up to their room, which is a miracle because they spend entirely too much time stumbling through the halls, stealing kisses and touching each other.

Because they got separated early in the day, Naomi didn’t get a chance to see the room she and Ethan would be staying in for the weekend. As soon as he slides the key card through the door and pushes it open, Naomi just knows.

It’s the same suite she and Ethan shared the first time they visited The Celestial. “Ethan, this is...wow.”

“I take it you’re surprised?”

“I’m more than surprised.”

Naomi wanders around the room, her fingers lightly touching all of the fixtures. The bedding is still the same, white and lavender, the room open and light. It even smells the same, and suddenly she’s transported back in time, 3 years ago.

Leaving Ethan where he’s standing, Naomi heads to the balcony, throwing open the sliding glass door. Everything is so still, weird for a city like Miami that’s constantly buzzing with energy. She doesn’t notice Ethan step out a minute later, a chilled bottle of merlot and two glasses in his hand.

He pops open the bottle and pours them both a glass, handing one to her. “Would you like to toast?”

“Sure.” Naomi raises her glass. “Here’s to us, our upcoming nuptials, and the best marriage the world has ever seen.”

“That’s a bold toast.” Ethan gently clinks his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

Naomi takes a hearty sip, ignoring all of the tips a sommelier usually gives on how to drink, the fruitiness of the wine taking over. She watches as Ethan heads to the railing, his own glass less than full.

“I still can’t believe you managed to get this room,” she says, sighing wistfully, overlooking the ocean from her vantage point. “How did you pull it off?”

“Everyone has a price. I said money was no object, and when I told them it was a surprise for my fiancée, they were a bit more inclined to help.”

“Really?” Ethan hums and nods in response. 

“I told them the room has sentimental value to me,” he explains further. “It’s the room where I realized I was utterly helpless against your charms.”

“Ethan Ramsey, you’re truly a romantic at heart.”

He’ll never get used to hearing her praise him so openly. Ethan ducks his head down so Naomi can’t see the flush creeping up his neck at the compliment. “You bring out this romantic side of me.”

She goes to join him at the railing. He doesn’t say anything, but he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Butterflies bloom in her stomach at his words. It’s nice to know that their first trip to Miami means so much to him, because it was an absolute game changer for her.

“I remember everything about that night so vividly,” Naomi says, her voice almost a whisper.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Losing to Declan in that poker match, coming out here, sharing a bottle of pinot noir, and talking about Naveen and my dreams for the type of doctor I want to be. I remember it all.”

“And then we kissed,” Ethan adds.

“Oh yeah, we did kiss, huh? I can’t believe I almost forgot that.”

“Ha ha, Rookie.”

“You know I’m just kidding. Of course I remember that kiss. It was the start of quite the journey for us.” A pained look flashed across Ethan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I kissed you and then I immediately reneged. I started us on that ridiculous journey and wasted so much precious time because I didn’t want to admit that I was falling for you.”

“Hey.” Naomi grabs Ethan’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, and look at where we are right now. We’re getting married next week, we’re starting the rest of our lives together. Yes, the journey took a bit longer than I had hoped, but I don’t think I’d change anything in our past. It’s led us to this moment right here.”

“How are you so much more...wise and articulate than me?”

Naomi shrugs. “It’s a gift. Not everyone is privileged to possess it.”

“You remember all of the broad strokes of that night in Miami, but I’m more fond of the tiny details.”

“Like what?”

“I remember your blue dress and how it matched my eyes,” he starts. “I remember the sweet smell of your perfume, jasmine. I remember your coconut shampoo. I remember the way your pupils dilated when you saw me step out of the shower.” Ethan pulls Naomi closer to him and one of his hands gently cups her face. “It’s the same look you gave me when you realized that I threw that poker game for Naveen’s benefit, one of pure awe.”

“Your skin was incredibly soft,” Ethan continues, his finger tracing a nonsensical pattern on her collarbone. “Like silk. And it still is. But you want to know my favorite memory of that night?”

“Wh-what?”

A hand underneath her chin, Ethan tilts Naomi’s head up, their lips dangerously close. If she moves just a hair closer, they’ll be kissing. She’s tempted to just take the plunge, but she’s frozen, trapped under a spell of his.

With that, Ethan’s mouth descends on hers, pulling Naomi into a kiss with a ferocity she wasn’t expecting. She melts into it immediately, moaning, her hand flying to the back of his neck, getting tangled in the hair at the nape. She can taste the wine of him, the sweet taste of cherries as tongue slips into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

Ethan pulls away only to nip at the corner of her mouth. “That fucking moan of yours. The tiny little noise you make at the back of your throat whenever you’re aroused. It’s been playing in my head on a loop ever since.”

His beard scratches a path down Naomi’s neck and shoulder as he kisses her.

“You want to make that sound for me again?” Naomi nods frantically, desperate for whatever is about to come her way. “Good girl.”

Taking her hand, Ethan pulls her away from the railing. Instead of heading back into their suite, he presses her into the tall pillar next to them, barely giving her enough time to put down her wine glass. The exposed skin of her back collides into the pillar with a soft thud.

“Out here?” She asks with a squeak as Ethan tugs at her dress.

Ethan shrugs. “Why not?”

His lips are on her neck again in an instant, clouding her judgment and making it harder to respond. “Someone can–” she dissolved into a fit of moans at Ethan’s ministrations. “Someone can see us.”

“We’re thirty floors up,” Ethan deadpans. “And it’s pitch black out here, no one will see us.” He grabs her hips, pulling her flush against him, and Naomi gasps at how hard he is. “Now hearing you, that’s another story. You’re loud and I have every intention to make you scream.”

If he wasn’t holding onto her, Naomi is sure she would’ve fallen over at his words. Ethan’s cockiness is on full display, and arrogant Ethan was definitely one of her favorite versions of him.

Ethan pulls away, giving Naomi a bit of breathing room so she can properly think again. “Does that sound like a plan, Valentine? Me having my way with you right here on this balcony?”

“God, yes.” She ignores the way he smirks at her unbridled eagerness. Ethan has a healthy enough ego without her stroking it.

“Correct answer, Rookie.”

Ethan’s hand wraps around the silky material at the top of Naomi’s dress and yanks it down. Naomi hears the ripping of the material and her eyes fly open in shock at the cool Miami air hitting her exposed chest.

“We’re going to have to talk about the serious lack of respect you have for my clothing.”

“You told me you got this dress because someone you called a “Pictagram influencer” advertised it and had a coupon code making it 70% cheaper,” Ethan counters.

“Yes, the dress was cheap, but you have to stop ripping all of my clothes.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“With a new dress?”

Ethan rolls his eyes at his fiancée’s quip, but he ignores it. “Something better.” He kisses down her neck and chest, stopping to wrap his lips around her nipple, biting down gently.

It takes a second for Naomi to register that the source of the unladylike growl filling the air is her. She grips Ethan’s shoulder to steady herself, her nails digging through his shirt, and her head falls forward at the sensation.

“You’re always so responsive to me,” Ethan murmurs softly. His mouth descends on her other nipple, his tongue flattening over the pebbled bit of flesh. “And I don’t even have to do anything to you.”

“Well, can you do something to me?”

“You young people have no patience,” Ethan clicks his tongue teasingly. Slowly, he sinks down to his knees in front of Naomi, tugging her dress down with him. He’s already ripped it, there’s no use in exercising any more care. The sparkly dress pools at Naomi’s feet and she kicks it away.

“You old people move too slow–”

The words die on her throat as Ethan hooks a finger into the band of underwear and tugs them down at a frenzied pace. His calloused fingers dig into her hips, hard enough to bruise. She always calls him old, teasing him into accepting whatever challenge she’s thrown his way. “I’ll show you old, Rookie.”

Leaving her hip, one of Ethan’s hands travels to her knee, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He hooks her leg over his shoulder, giving him more leverage.

She can feel his breath, warm and tickling on the inside of her thigh, so close, yet so far away from where she actually needs him to be. Her hips fly forward, a silent plea for him to continue this little game they’re playing. Thankfully Ethan doesn’t tease her any further as his tongue flies out, licking at her folds.

Naomi inhales sharply and she nearly hikes up the wall at the sensation. “Oh, God.”

“You’re so wet for me, Naomi,” Ethan whispers against the overly sensitive flesh.

He dives back in, moaning against her and Naomi throws her head back at the vibration. “Always for you.”

She can tell by the way his blue eyes sparkle as they lock eyes that he’s smirking. But Naomi doesn’t have time to care about that because his lips wrap around her clit and he sucks hard. Naomi cards her fingers through his hair, tugging at him roughly, like she will die if he doesn’t keep his attention right where it is. 

It doesn’t last long though, and with ridiculous strength and skill, Ethan manages to grab her wrists in one hand, and keeps her hips planted against the pole with the other. Naomi receives the message loud and clear: he’s in control here, unequivocally.

Secure in the fact that she won’t be doing too much moving, Ethan doubles down, his tongue lapping at her. The familiar scratch of his beard against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh only makes her more delirious with lust.

Molten core levels of heat prick at every bit of her skin, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Her stomach tightens and there’s a tingle at the base of her spine. She’s close and it’s not fair that he can make her come this quick, and she’s not sure if she hates it or loves it. “I’m gonna–”

“I know.”

Ethan pulls away slightly, but Naomi doesn’t get the chance to whine about it. In an instant, he’s slipped a finger inside of her, earning a groan. He is just so...relentless in his goal, and Naomi barely has a chance to breathe before she’s keening (something so dramatic and unlike her. Ethan will never let her live it down). Her orgasm is swift, crashing into her like a tidal wave, knocking her off kilter almost instantly. Ethan doesn’t back away, his mouth still on her, working her through the release.

Her entire body is buzzing, still wracked with aftershocks when Ethan finally stands up. His eyes are dark, no longer the ocean blue they usually are, now taking on something closer to the midnight sky, fully dilated and hooded. His mouth is wet, slick with...well her, and Naomi has never wanted to kiss him more.

“That was a promising start,” Ethan says. “But it’s just that: a start. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

A start? If Naomi had the energy to do so, she would laugh at him, but one look in Ethan’s eyes lets her know that he’s being serious. She gulps audibly. She’s a shaky puddle of goo right now, and that was only the beginning?

“Turn around, hands against the pillar,” Ethan commands.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Naomi. Hands out, ass up.”

He’s using his commanding doctor voice on her, and she loves it. Naomi does what she’s told, palms flat against the pillar holding up the balcony.

She hears rustling from behind, and she’s sure he’s undressing. Now she’s extremely aware of their power imbalance: she’s stark naked, save for a pair of high heels, while he’s still fully dressed. It’s not fair. Shifting slightly, Naomi lifts a foot and shakes it, hoping to get the shoe off in one fell swoop.

She’s stopped short of her plan as a sharp smack is delivered to her ass. She’s unable to contain the expletive in her throat, a loud, “Fuck!” drifting into the Miami air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan asks.

“Taking off these heels.”

He tsks at her, as if the answer isn’t good enough. “I don’t remember giving you permission to do so.”

The authoritative tone zips straight through her, and Naomi turns to face him, putting on her best doe eyes. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Christ.” Naomi didn’t know it was possible, but Ethan’s eyes darken even further at the word. He doesn’t bother stripping out the rest of his clothes, just quickly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down until they pool at his ankles. Without warning, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Naomi’s back collides with his chest with a hard thud. “Kiss me.”

That’s not a command that needs repeating. Naomi tilts her head back in an attempt to kiss him, but their vast height difference and Ethan’s death grip on her make it a challenge. She just barely manages to capture the corner of his mouth before Ethan growls impatiently, and grabs her neck, forcing her head back to deepen the kiss.

It’s overwhelming and heady, and she’s so caught up in it, she doesn’t even realize his cock, hard and pulsing, is poised at the entrance until he plunges into her in one smooth thrust.

If he wanted her loud, he got what he asked for, because Naomi breaks their kiss in order to scream at the welcome intrusion. The air rushes from her lungs, and she can’t even begin to breathe again before Ethan pulls out and enters her again with just as much intensity as before.

She feels delirious, and she can’t pinpoint why. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re 400 feet above solid ground, and one look down makes her head spin. Maybe it’s the fact that someone, somewhere in this hotel knows exactly what they’re doing. Maybe it’s the fact that every inch of her skin burns deliciously as Ethan has her stretched at full fucking capacity, and she has nowhere to run or hide. There’s no sheets she can pull, no pillows to muffle her moans, nothing she can grab onto to anchor herself to reality. She’s suspended in this moment, and she can’t do anything but simply take it as Ethan fucks into her like a madman.

The noises she’s making along with the sound of their skin slapping together is wildly obscene, and it only spurs Ethan on. Abandoning her throat, his hand travels down to her chest, his forefinger and thumb pinching her nipple, bringing the tiny nub to an almost painfully hard peak. He makes sure to give the same level of attention to the other nipple, torturing his fiancée until she’s whining unintelligibly.

His lips find her earlobe and he bites down. “Are you close again?”

“Yes,” Naomi answers.

Instead of speeding up, Ethan slows down, his thrusts slowing down to an agonizingly deep pace, fully pulling out of her and thrusting in again at a leisurely pace, the sole intent of driving her insane.

“Ethan,” she whines. She’s a shaking mess, unable to do much else besides cry out and occasionally moan his name. Her spine curves, back arching and her head falls against his shoulder. “Fuck! Ethan, please.”

“Please, what?”

Despite his teasing, Naomi can tell he’s just as desperate as she is. His breath is coming out in ragged and uneven pants, there’s a thin layer of sweat, slick and coating his chest, and she can feel his heartbeat, wild and erratic against her back. He’s just as tortured as she is.

In a Hail Mary attempt to get what she wants, her inner muscles clench down on him, stopping him mid-thrust. Ethan’s knees buckle, the move unexpected and throwing him off-kilter.

“Shit, Naomi,” he manages to rasp out. “You don’t play fair.”

Being fair has no place in this, she plays to win, but she has no time to throw it back in his face as he presses into her clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make her yelp.

If her last climax felt like getting slammed with a tidal wave, this one feels like floating down a river: languid and unrelenting, refusing to stop. It consumes her entire body, engulfing her in pleasure so white hot and intense, she’s sure stars are popping behind her eyelids as every bit of pleasure is wrung out of her body until there’s nothing left to give.

Ethan’s thrusts speed up again, messy and spasmodic, all rhythm gone. His hips snap against hers before she feels him coming, his entire body going rigid.

Thankfully, Ethan has enough energy left to pull them into a chair because Naomi was more than willing to simply collapse onto the concrete and stay there. She curls into his side, her face finding a spot in the crook of his neck.

They don’t speak for what feels like forever, both just trying to regulate their breathing and return back to normal.

Ethan breaks the comfortable silence, but Naomi barely realizes he’s talking before it’s too late to fully listen. She tilts her head back so they can lock eyes. “What?”

“I asked if you’re okay,” Ethan says.

“I can’t feel my legs,” is all Naomi manages to say. Ethan chuckles and reaches forward, slipping Naomi’s heels off, the relief pretty much instant.

“Better?”

“Much.” She sighs sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy. She burrows deeper into his side, Ethan’s body heat lulling her to sleep. “This was much better than staying in the girls’ room.”

“And it was much better than going to a strip club with your friends,” Ethan adds.

“You like them. They’re your friends too, don’t deny it.” Ethan doesn’t outright confirm or deny anything, which is all the confirmation Naomi needs. “Told you so.”

“How about a shower, Miss Know-It-All?” 

“Sounds great,” Naomi huffs, but she makes no effort to move.

“This is doing more for my ego than you’ll ever know.” Ethan is careful, extracting himself from Naomi’s grip in order to get up. He then hooks his arms underneath her, lifting her up bridal style to carry her back into their suite.

Naomi might as well be unconscious because she’s dead weight in his arms as he maneuvers his way to the en-suite. Thankfully the shower isn’t complicated and all Ethan has to do is turn a few knobs for it to turn on. He waits a few seconds to make sure the water is the perfect temperature, before pulling Naomi in with him.

They don’t spend too much time in the marble and glass box, as Ethan can see Naomi is probably seconds from passing out. The shower is over almost as quickly as it began. Both wrapped in large hotel robes, Ethan nudges Naomi back to the bedroom where she collapses face down onto their bed.

Once Ethan is in bed with her, Naomi rolls over, her face firmly planted on his chest. Upon making contact, Naomi sighs.

Ethan kisses the top of her head. “I can practically hear your thoughts. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Naomi assures him. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“It just feels...surreal, being back in Miami, being back in this room,” Naomi explains. “We’re getting married next weekend.”

Ethan lifts Naomi’s left hand, her engagement ring sparkling in the moonlight. “It does feel surreal.”

“I think we should make it a tradition, coming out here.” Ethan looks down at her, a curious eyebrow raised. Naomi feels the need to explain herself, the words rushing out of her mouth. “It doesn’t have to be annual or anything, but I want this to be our special place.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Ethan says. The next they come to Miami, she’s going to be his wife, and the thought spends a thrill down his spine.

“And we have to have sex on the balcony. It’s tradition now.”

“I’m starting to think you only want me for my body.”

“Of course not,” Naomi argues. “I’m in it for your money, too.” Ethan pinches her leg for the teasing, and she squirms away from him, laughing.

“When I die, I’m bequeathing all of my money to Jenner.”

“He’s a good boy, he’d share with me.” 

Ethan rolls his eyes and pulls Naomi in for another kiss. They don’t make it very far though, as the sound of a cell phone pierces through the air, making them spring apart.

“Yours or mine?” Ethan asks, eyes scanning the room for the source of the noise.

Naomi bends over and sees her cell phone on the floor by their bed, and not on the nightstand. 

Weird. She picks it up, and her eyes widen at the amount of texts she’s received in the past minute, the vibration so strong, it knocked the phone off of the table. “It’s mine.”

Bryce L: DUDE!!!

Bryce L: Where the duck r u?

Bryce L: ????????????????????????????????

Bryce L: Srsly not funny, did u run away from ur own bachelor party?

Bryce L: Pick up fone. Nay will murder us for losing u. 

Bryce L: But I will murder fist, 4 running away

Bryce L: Oh shut. Naomi, ignore this!!! 

Bryce L: JK, false alarm

Bryce L: Ethan is fine, picky promise!

Between the misspelled words and strings of emojis, Naomi can tell that her surgeon friend is completely drunk, but she manages to figure out what he’s saying. “So Bryce is having a meltdown because he lost you.” Taking the phone from Naomi’s hand, Ethan holds it up to his face, squinting as he reads. “And he thinks he was texting you, when he really just texted me.”

Ethan chuckles slightly, and mere seconds later, his own cell phone rings ‘Dr. Bryce Lahela’ flashing across the screen. “He’s figured it out, and he’s calling me now. Should I answer?”

“No. Let them have their Hangover moment.”

“Their what?”

“From The Hangover. The movie with Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zack Galifiniakis where they get totally shitfaced and lose their best friend a day before his wedding,” Naomi explains. Ethan just stares at her blankly. “Oh my gosh, you’ve never seen it?”

“How does this come as a shock to you, Rookie?”

“Well, we can't get married until you’ve seen the entire trilogy.”

That makes Ethan’s brows fly up. “There’s 3 of those movies that you want me to sit through?”

“God Grandpa, you’re so lame,” Naomi groans and her hand reaches out onto the nightstand, grabbing the remote control. She points to the large flatscreen tv in front of them. “Hopefully we can order movies on this. If not, I brought my laptop so–” Ethan plucks the remote from her hand, and tosses it to the edge of the king sized bed. It lands softly. “Hey!”

“I don’t care about some stupid movie.”

“It’s not stu–” He tugs at the knot holding her robe together until it falls open. “Ethan…”

“You have options, soon to be Missus Ramsey,” Ethan starts. He rolls over until he’s on top of Naomi, his arms bracing either side of her cage, caging her underneath him. “We can watch that movie, or we can pick up where we left off on the balcony. Which choice do you prefer?”

“The movie,” Naomi quips back with a smirk.

She laughs at her own joke and Ethan’s eyes darken mischievously, taking on the challenge. “Just for that, I’m going to guarantee that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

[unholyhelbig]

[A/N: I finally updated "Dead Ivy" after a good year. Here is Chapter one if you haven't checked it out yet!]

Beca could feel the soil beneath her fingertips. It was soft, freshly overturned, and in a way, comforting. She was careful not to let her knees touch the ground- not privy to the dark stains that would splay against the fabric. The tree stood tall above her, stretching its large oak branches towards the pluming blue sky. A nice summer breeze tussled her hair, and she was sure that if she breathed in, she would smell freshly cut grass and chlorine from the neighbor’s pool.

The treehouse had long since been torn down to make room for her mother’s garden. Something that stood at the end of the fenced in yard. For a while, she grew tomatoes and zucchini. Beca could still remember the first red bulb that poked its head from the dirt. They made a salad from store-bought spinach and divided up the little thing, no bigger than a golf ball. It was still the best tomato that Beca had ever had.

She sighed at the hand that squeezed her shoulder gently. Her father smelled of aftershave and bourbon. His tie wasn’t fastened all the way to his white button down, and he had strung his suit jacket over his arm. He held a sad look that was shielded by the sun as Beca squinted at him. She pulled herself to her feet, feeling the age of her aching bones as she stepped back from the large oak tree and stared up at the branches.

“Do you remember when I fell out of this tree and broke my arm?” She asked.

Her fathers’ eyes crinkled at the memory as he gave her a sad smile. She had needed him to run beside her when he first took the training wheels off her bike. She had needed him when she learned how to drive and took out the Johnson’s mailbox. But when she dropped from a higher spot in the oak tree and felt something audibly snap, it was her mother that came to the rescue.

She had been clipping up sheets to the clothesline, claiming that the summer air was always better for stuff like that. A beautiful woman that would beam endlessly and cradle Beca in her arms with her stormy eyes and eerie calm. Beca needed that right now. Needed it to get through the handshakes and the hugs. The baked goods and casseroles that people deemed necessary when something like this happened.

“I do.” He chuckled wearily, “I got a call at work that something had happened. You scared the hell out of me that day, kid.”

Beca snorted at the nickname. She and her father had gotten along significantly better since she moved out on her own- took up a place and a prominent career across the country in Los Angeles of all places. She had, of course, taken time off work to come back for the funeral. To pull into the sleepy little Georgia town with a giant oak tree that shook in the summer breeze. She squinted at the bark, at the carving so crudely made by a grooved pocket knife.

C + B FOREVER & EVER

The second half was etched in different handwriting, something more elegant and thought out. It was funny, really. When they were kids, it was easier to think about the future in terms of relationships. Of course, they would always be with one another- they wouldn’t fathom being apart. But then college. Careers. Plane rides. Marriage, kids, and divorces. All inevitable. All anything but forever.

“She still lives around here, you know? Owns a little café in the far side of town.”

“That so?”

He grunted and sniffed away any feeling that still leaked in his voice. No one would question them for standing out here- but they still felt obligated to go back inside the old farm style house with the wrap around porch and the honeysuckle bushes. Beca didn’t know how he could still live here. “Yeah. You should pay her a visit while you’re here. I bet she’d like that.”

Beca simply nodded and let the tips of her fingers trace of the words that had been weathered over time, but they were still there. They had stood the test of time, unlike her treehouse. Unlike the little plants of tomatoes and zucchini that had rotted away to decaying vines that stretched like deadened ivy up the side of the fence.

“Right. Well, we should probably go back inside. The quicker we talk to everyone, the quicker they can go home and mourn their memories.”

It was a grim thing to say, but it was the truth, so her father let the words die in the air before sliding on the suit jacket to cover up the sweat stains against his dress shirt. She let her hand fall and looped it around his arm like he was escorting her down the carpeted floor of a chapel on her wedding day. Instead of white, she dawned black, though. And so, did he.

She thought that drinking and sadness walked hand and hand. It was why the only two bars in town did so well on any given night, and if things were bad, any given day. The other place, the snake eye, had karaoke on Friday nights and Beca didn’t think she was well equipped to listen to TLC, so she chose The Red Sun instead.

There were repurposed Christmas lights strung against the bottom of the counter, hot to the touch. A low rock ballad cracked over the loudspeaker. She wasn’t sure if the jukebox that changed light settings every few beats actually had a purpose or if it just ate up quarters. Either way, Beca Mitchell was in her own world.

She tilted her head back and let the bourbon burn on the way down. A nice and subtle sting that washed the taste of stale crackers out of her mouth. It was the only thing in her stomach- despite the spread that was now packed with tin foil in the fridge. Her father was drinking too, she was sure, at home in his study. The house was too quiet for her, though.

Beca felt a twinge of guilt in her gut.

She had ignored the last call from her brother. She was in the middle of the meeting, and at the time, the buzzing of her phone sounded louder than anything else in the world. She flushed instantly and clicked the side of the device before staring back down at her notes and sunk further into her seat.

He had died the next day, she had forgotten to call him back. A car accident and a drunk driver. Which, she supposed, defeated the purpose of being here- in this stupid some-hazy bar with nothing but time on her hands. She considered switching her flight to something earlier. But then reconsidered as quickly as the thought entered her mind. Her father needed her, at least for now.

“Beca Mitchell?” The voice startled her, it broke through the garbled focus of the next song. She blinked a few times and turned her head to the side. Stacie Conrad. She looked older, wiser even, but maybe that was the glasses. The smile on her face aged her, but in the best way. Still impossibly attractive, and confident, it seems. “Is that really you?”

“As I live and breathe.”

She winced at her use of words, but Stacie didn’t seem to notice as she quickly wrapped her in an awkward hug, Beca still half-sitting on a bar stool. Still, she craved the embrace and hugged back naturally.

“God, how are you?” She pulled away, “That’s a stupid question… I mean, as well as you can be, I hope.”

Before Beca could answer she lifted her hand in the air and signaled the bartender, the woman busied herself with preparing Stacie’s usual and pouring another sour edge of bourbon into Beca’s glass. She wasn’t sure if she would drink it or not, but she appreciated the sentiment behind it. Stacie settled into the seat next to her.

“I’m doing fine,” She finally managed, earning a detrimental look. “As well as I can be.”

The bartender set two glasses in front of them and Beca wrinkled her nose at it before focusing her attention on Stacie, the way her own drink looked like radioactive fluid. It was always the fruity things that packed the most punch. Not the gritty glass that she would be nursing for the rest of their conversation.

“I’m sorry to hear about him, you know.” Stacie finally said after a beat of silence.

Beca simply nodded. She was numb to the situation at this point. Her whole body felt like a lead pipe. She and Jason didn’t get along too well. He traveled the world and she resented him for that. But they played nice during the holidays and smiled for family pictures. He got divorced young, married even younger. It still ached her whole entire being.

“You and most of the town,” Beca chuckled dryly, begging for a change of subject. “I haven’t seen you in what? Eleven years?”

“Twelve. God, we’re old.”

She was thankful that her high school friend could take a keenly dropped hint. The two of them encircled the same click during those years. It was better than giving in to the southern tenacity of it all. They would smoke behind the bleachers and drink if they were feeling lucky. They usually were.

Beca caught a glimpse at the wedding band that took over Stacie’s finger. It was simple, not overstated with large diamonds. A simple one that was surrounded by two smaller stones. She smiled “You’re married now?”

She took another gulp of her fruity drink and hummed in response, instinctively twirling it around her ring finger. She got a goofy grin on her face and twirled slightly to make eye contact with Beca. Sure, she had seen the social media posts. The cute announcements and the picturesque scenes.

“Happily, at that, we invited you to the wedding, you know?”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“S’alright,” Stacie said with a beaming smile “Rose loves the panini press.”

Beca scoffed and picked up her glass, chancing a sip of the molten liquid. It hissed as she swallowed, and she blinked away the residual prick of pain that collected behind her eyes. Stacie glanced behind her at the group of girls that she had come in with- doctors like her, she supposed. They all had that tired professional look that the woman beside her carried.

“Listen, uh, how long are you in town? I’d love a chance to catch up in a setting with better lighting.”

“A couple of weeks, at most. We have to settle his estate.” She grimaced at the technical term. “I’ll be around.”

“We’ll catch up, promise?”

She gave Beca a squeeze on her shoulder and a sympathetic smile, but she didn’t say it again and Beca was thankful for that. She watched as Stacie went to the four other colleges that were in her inner circle. They all asked questions and cast wary looks her way- she lifted the glass and gave a smile before turning back to the bartender. She was cleaning out a glass and eyeing her.

“Promise,” Beca mumbled, tipping her head back the rest of the way, finishing the glass of bourbon she hadn’t even ordered.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? Nope. What's your favorite pizza place? A few local places. What was the last stupid thing someone talked you into believing? I don’t recall. 

What's at the top of your to do list in life? Right now it’s trying to get my shit together. What's a song that would describe your life at the moment? *shrug*

Do you ever scream at inatimate objects? I’ve definitely gotten frustrated with them and said things like, “ugh, you stupid thing why won’t you work??!” What was the last thing that you shared? The new Kit-Kats I bought recently. They’re “fruity cereal” flavor, which of course is Fruity Pebbles and they’re very delicious. What smell/s can you absolutely not stand? Shit, vomit, garbage, old food, seafood... Do you ever eat leftover pizza cold? I used to love it when I was younger, but not anymore. It’s weird. Where are you the most ticklish? Just my neck. When you're wanting a midnight snack, what do you normally get? My midnight snack is my nightly bowl of ramen. What color best represents you? Hm. Gray for moodiness and gloom. Do you like marshmallows? I do. What is your favorite flavor of candy cane? Good ol’ classic peppermint. Do you have any shoeboxes full of old photos/letters/other memorable stuff? Yeah, a few. Are you in any way double jointed? My thumbs are. Have you ever considered a career in music/acting? No. I have zero musical or acting abilities.  When was the last time you felt seriously embarrassed? Recently. Have you ever liked a song, looked up the lyrics to it, then hated it? No, I don’t think so. Which is worse for you: being hot, or being cold? Being hot, hands down. It makes me miserable. What would be the icing on the cake for you this Christmas? We booked a weekend stay at a cozy cabin somewhere where it snows. If you had the opportunity to live forever, would you take it? Well, I believe in life after death in heaven. Have you made someone happy today? No. Do you generally watch a lot of television? My TV is always on, but it does serve as background noise quite a bit. If your bedroom walls could talk, what would they most likely say? Yikes.  What's your favorite Christmas song? I love all the classics. Did you ever really believe in Santa Clause? Yes. Do you like the band Relient K? I liked a couple of their songs. Actually, “Who I am Hates Who I’ve Been” has been stuck in my head recently. Do you like quesadillas? Chicken quesadillas are delicious. Did you like the show Invader Zim? No. Do you think tomorrow will be a good day? Just another day, I’m sure. Do you ever talk to yourself? I think out loud a lot. Who's butt did you last slap? I don’t slap anyone’s butt. Do you think that chivalry is dead? No. What's the greatest/most influential song you've ever heard? Worship songs. What's the weirdest thing you've seen in a grocery store? Uhh. I don’t know. Do you like chocolate milk? No. Have you ever bought yourself a present on Christmas? Yeah, I get myself some things as well. Have you ever been on a mechanical bull? No. Do you prefer to pull off band-aids slowly or quickly? I do it slowly unless it’s not super sticky or painful. Depends where it is. Have you made a mistake in the past week? I'm always making mistakes. What was the last weird thing you said to someone? I don’t know. Have you ever met any bands/band members before? No. Have you ever sat on a copy machine and made copies of your butt? Uh, no. Are you a camera whore? Definitely not. Have you ever purposely dropped someone's toothbrush in a toilet? EW, omg. Nooooo.  

What kind of mood are you in right now? A blah one. What was the last thing someone told you that had you at a loss for words? Some news from my last doctor appointment. What's something that always makes you smile, regardless of whats going on? There isn’t really anything like that these days. :/ 

What was that last thing that you bought online? Food delivery. Do you enjoy riding around town looking at Christmas lights? Aw, we used to do that every year when I was a kid. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I should start that up again. Is there someone that you're mean to for no good reason? No. I’m not a mean person. I’m moody and cranky and miserable, but I’m not mean.  What was the last thing you got out of the freezer? Ice cream. Are you currently reading anything? Yeah, “Such a Good Girl” by Willow Rose. It’s the 9th book in a series. What's a good book you'd recommend? Willow Rose has a few different series I’d recommend, as well as Mary Stone. Also, the Emma Griffin series by AJ Rivers. They’re all murder mystery/psychological thriller authors.

[drjackandmissjo]

Roses are Red, Tattoos are Forever

Chapter 3 --- previous chapter

Feysand masterlist

The Sherlock Conundrum

Florist and tattoo artist Au, Modern Day

“Can you please stop with this madness? Hugh Laurie is clearly the best Sherlock ever!”

They were both sitting on the couch of his living room. Really close to each other. She had her left knee under her body and was fully facing him. He had been throwing glances at her way the whole time she’s been there, and now was admiring her everything as they bantered lovingly.

After a particularly rough client, that had taken her nearly seven hours to finish, she came into his shop claiming: “We’re both closing earlier, I need to rest and so do you.”

At his attempt to tell her off, cause “I don’t need to rest I am in pristine fit every second of every minute”, she simply replied with an elongated ‘Please’ and a pair of puppy dog eyes that would’ve put a Labrador to shame.

Useless to say, they ended up on his couch half an hour later, a marathon of the fourth season of House M.D. on the television and chips and popcorn all around.

Feyre is harder than she looks, tougher. She likes to drink whiskey and burning liquor and beer.

Rhys, on the other hand, is a refined rosé man. He drinks fruity drinks and cocktails and vodka. He tried the same stuff that she drinks, once, when they went out with the rest of the inner circle after Az had received a promotion. It didn’t end well.

Feyre and Cassian will forever tease him about it.

Since their taste in alcohol was on such a wide spectrum, they decided to settle for some sparkly Coca-Cola for that fine night.

About halfway through episode six, the debate had begun. The show was soon forgotten and left as a white noise machine that lulled them into their silliness.

“Feyre Darling. You are being delusional. Dr House’s got nothing on RDJ’s Sherlock. Just cause the character was inspired by Conan Doyle’s work it doesn’t mean it can be considered a Sherlock.”

She laughed. A delicious sound that was filling his days more and more each morning. “Do you know that Conan Doyle based Shelly on a doctor, right? Also, yeah Jude Law’s better than Wilson, that is true.”

“Can we just agree that Cumberbatch and Freeman are equally amazing.”

“Yeah, duh! But, controversial opinion: I don’t actually ship Jonhlock romantically.”

“More like platonic soul-mates? Makes complete sense. They are not interested in each other at all. You are right, Fey-ruh Acheron.”

‘HOW DARE SHE...’, he thought severely displeased.

“Oh please don’t be pissed at me. I like them together and everything, but in my mind, Sherlock is pretty much ace-aro. I mean, Cumberbatch was also Smaug. Which in the books is described as a dragon while the movies decided to portray him like a vixen...” He solemnly nodded.

That is, indeed, a severe problem in mainstream media.

“That is, indeed, a severe problem in today mainstream media. We live in a world where people don’t know the difference between one another! Daenerys Mother of Dragons? More like Dany The Soccer Mom of three cool lizards. That would be more appropriate!”

“Don’t talk to me about Dany, I’m still pissed about Jonerys. I mean, fan-service much? Okay, I can deal with that. But don’t freaking kill Viserion and try to make us all believe that HIS MOTHER WOULD FUCK HER NEPHEW THIRTY MINUTES LATER!”

She laughed again.

‘Gods above and below,’ he thought, ‘how much can a person love another?’

“Agree 100% on Viserion, though Jon after Ygrit should’ve just zipped up his pants and close business. You experience that kind of love once in your screentime. And when you do, Martin kills the counterpart off immediately after the big scene. You know that sadist is gonna kill you off, so just spare him the dirty deeds to write.”

“The dirty deeds are the reasons he is taking so much to finish that freaking book. Also, salty much?"

"You dare calling me salty? It’s been years and you still weep over Robb’s body.”

“Excuse you, it is a very fine body. Have you seen Richard Madden lately? With that kilt at Kit and Rose’s wedding? Fine AF.”

She was now scooting over, moving closer to his face to find a reaction.

“Fine, you’re right. But Darling, you know damn well I am attracted to that man, you can’t just casually throw his name around! That would be like me, saying that Misha has aged like a fine whisky.”

“And where would a lie hide in that sentence?”

“ANYWAY. We were talking of something terrifically important.”

He decided to add a Meaningful Pause to give himself some dramatic effect...

“How can you say you don’t ship Jonhlock romantically?”

‘Honesly I love that woman. She is my other half, I would die for her and with her. My life without her has no meaning.

But if her answer doesn’t please me then so help me God I will suffer through a meaningless life with the strength of my ships.’ His mind said.

“I told you before the 'The Hobbit/Game of Thrones' parenthesis. When I read the books I thought of Sherlock as a madman who cared about Watson profoundly, but mostly cares about himself and his work. Someone who doesn’t dwell into feelings, doesn’t really enjoy sexual times and, truly, a modern-day asexual and aromantic asshole with a kink for unofficial police work. Yes, He and Watson are amazing together, and especially with RDJ and Jude Law I saw the sexual tension, which then I also saw in the BBC’s version. But for me, since I read the books first, Jonhlock will always be the exact relationship shown by House and Wilson. Sorry to disappoint.”

She was so close to him, he could smell her shampoo and count the freckles across her nose. She was staring directly into his soul. Rhys was fully clothed in an old tee and some pants and yet he’d never felt more naked.

“You never disappoint me. As a matter of fact, you never cess to amaze me, Feyre Acheron. You are perfect and beautiful both on the inside as well as on the outside. Here I was, looking for a polite way to kick you out of my apartment after you say you don’t ship one of my OTPs and now, here still I am trying not to be drowned into you and trying not to get lost into your eyes and I love you so fucking much that it physically hurts.”

His inner monologue at the time? ‘Fuck. FUCK. What the fuck did I just say???’

She had managed to fry his whole brain with her smart reasoning and perfect voice and now he had ruined a perfect moment by saying cheesy stuff to a girl that didn’t particularly care for cheese.

That was the end of Rhysand Sphera as we all know and love him.

Cause of death: killed by Feyre Acheron as result of saying something completely idiotic.

Only...

“Do you really mean that?”

She sounded hopeful and scared at the same time. The horrors she had to face in the past came running back to her and were written all over her face. Rhys took her hands in his. They were both trembling.

His mouth had probably never been that dry and yet aching to speak at the same time. He could only nod and pray she reciprocated.

That was the moment of truth.

“Of course I mean it. All of it. Each unsaid sentence and each shared glances. Every time I bring you coffee or a send you a picture of a dog that walks into my shop with its owner even though I’m terrified of them. The dog, not the owner. Even though some owners of dogs are terrifying. I have been in love with you for so long, I forgot how it feels not loving you. I look back at those times when you were not in my life and even back then I knew I was missing something. And when he-who-must-not-be-named showed up and swept you off your feet away from me, I was broken beyond repair. But you came back and made me hope that maybe, maybe all my dreams could become true. But you were hurt and also broken, and you needed time to heal. You still do. I shouldn’t have said anything, but you’re just so fucking amazing that I struggle to not scream ‘I Love You’ every time you breathe. I am utterly in love with you and hopelessly devoted to you. I understand if you still need time to heal or would rather be with someone else. But I said it, and I do not intend on taking it back.”

She was kneeling on the couch, her hands still clutching his, tears streaming down her face.

“Don’t take it back.”

Rhys thought he had heard what he wanted, so he had to ask, “What?”, a dumbstruck disbelieving-his-luck expression plastered on his face.

“I said don’t take it back. I feel the same way. I am utterly in love with you and hopelessly devoted to you too. I thought you hated me after, well, Tamlin. It is pleasant knowing we reciprocate each other’s feelings.”

Feyre laughed again, breaking the spell between them. Only, now the deed was done. Neither of them could hold their emotions in any longer. Feyre leaned in and so did Rhys, and their lips met halfway in a once in a lifetime, epic romance, Full on Princess Bride type of kiss.

After they both ran out of breath, they simply remained connected in every way possible given their awkward position. Foreheads never leaving each other, hands clasped together, lips barely touching. That spell, though, didn’t last for long. Soon they yearned to touch each other’s skin and feel each other’s bodies.

They were never going to have enough of each other.

[silverfootstepswrites]

At the Wisteria Tree

“I would not have you see what I become.”

She remembered the pain ripping through her chest. The anger and sorrow hot as it filled her throat. Her fingers curling into the front of his clothes as she sobbed. 

“Forgive me, my love.” His last whispered words to her carried her through the darkness of her dreams. Until she was buoyed up and up. Arms and legs limp as she broke the surface of those ever-cresting waves. 

She gasped as she drank down the cool air for the first time. The moonlight that spilled in through the windows blinded her. She pressed her palm to her temple. As a high-pitched noise pierced through her ear. Just the one on the right side. And if she focused hard enough, she could almost make out the sound of a voice in it. But like all the other times, the pain faded. The sound fading with it.

An unfamiliar name lingered on the tip of her tongue. But the harder she tried to remember it, the more quickly it slipped from her mind. 

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she took a deep breath. 

Soon, she couldn’t remember what had woken her in the first place. A bad dream? Maybe even a good one. Rubbing her hand along her cheek, she wondered why it came away wet with tears.

“You doing okay?”

A clipboard clattered onto the table. Dragging a hand through her hair, Sakura lifted her chin. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” she answered. She smiled when Ino reached out to pat her on the shoulder. 

“Drinks after?” Ino suggested. 

“Please. This project has been so stressful,” she grumbled. Ino’s hand gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“Yeah. The client’s almost as picky as you,” Ino teased. Sakura glared at her. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re a nightmare when you want to be.”

Squinting, Sakura considered that. And then she tilted her head before she gave a reluctant nod. “Okay, yeah. You’re right.”

“Cool. Now let’s go get wasted,” Ino declared. She slapped her palm against Sakura’s before she pulled her out of the room, down the hall.

Sakura ran her hand down the craggy bark of the massive tree. When she reached up to touch the flowers, she thought she heard a whisper. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a shadow. It disappeared around the trunk. 

“H...hello?” she called, tilting her head to follow the movement. 

“Don’t look!” a voice growled as hands whipped through the air to shield her eyes. 

Sakura started but held still. The hands that covered her face were warm but rough. Slowly, she reached up to touch them, tracing her fingers up the wrists, tracing the jut of bony knuckles. She heard a sharp exhale behind her. And then, just as slowly, she traced the other way, past the wrist, over the cold metal of what felt like a bracelet. No. A... maybe a shackle? And then down the smooth fabric that whispered over itself.

“Does it still hurt?” she heard herself ask. Even though she had no idea what she was saying. 

“Please, stop looking for me. I beg you, my love.” He didn’t answer her question. 

“I’m not trying. I just keep finding you,” she answered.

When Sakura blinked, she was staring at the ceiling of her studio apartment. 

“Weird,” was all she could think to say. 

“What’s weird?” asked Ino, standing in front of the microwave. She scratched her stomach as she watched her instant oatmeal slowly revolve.

“Uh...” Sakura said, rubbing her hands over her eyes. Tenting them over the bridge of her nose as she tried to think.

“Can’t remember,” she sighed.

On most days, Sakura could be found in her workshop. The temperature was the same whether it was winter or summer. Neat rows of glass bottles lined the walls with the white labels facing out. 

The only thing that changed was the combination of fragrances that filled the room. And that all depended on the demands of that particular client. 

Some days, Ino walked into what smelled like an orange grove. Other days, a woodsy, earthy smell drifted into her nose. Some scents were strong, others more subtle. And if she asked, Sakura could immediately rattle off a list of all the components that created each combination. 

“What about Chanel No. 5?” Ino asked one night over Chinese food. Sakura finished slurping up a long noodle before she screwed up her face to think. 

“Hm...Rose, obviously. Ylang-ylang. Jasmine. There’s some sandalwood and patchouli in there. Vanilla, definitely,” Sakura thought out loud. 

Sakura could close her eyes and conjure up a thousand fragrances in her memory. She could even tell the difference between a synthetic and natural scent. She could identify the different brands of the perfumes and colognes of the men and women she passed on the street. Some were more pleasing than others. But there was just one smell she couldn’t capture. No matter how much she mixed and stirred. No matter how many new samples she acquired. 

It just wasn’t the same.

Sakura opened her eyes. She was blinded by the sight of those violet flowers again. Clustered so tightly together, dripping lovely and soft from sagging branches. 

“Where are you?” she wondered.

Darkness fell over her eyes again as he covered them with his hand. She turned her head, the tip of her nose brushing against his wrist. It was a nostalgic scent. One that also managed to be sad, if a smell could carry sorrow. 

“Why are you here again?” he sighed.

She felt a smile creep over her face. “Should I leave?”

She wasn’t surprised when she felt his other hand tangle with hers. Fingers twisting together as naturally as if they’d done it hundreds- no, thousands of times before. 

“I can’t stand the thought of you all alone in this place,” she said. The words felt familiar even as they left her mouth. 

“I would not have you see what I become,” he whispered. And somehow, those words were even more familiar. They filled her with a strange, twisting feeling. 

“You always do this. You know it won’t last,” she sighed.

And she was awake again. Blinking against the sunlight. Wondering why, for just a moment, why everything around her seemed tinged with soft purple and the fragrance of something sweet.  

“Wo-w.” Temari drew out the syllable as Sakura sat down across from her. Sakura flipped her hair over her collar as she shed her coat. Temari reached out, making a grasping motion. Sakura handed over her arm, letting Temari lift her wrist up to her nose to sniff.

“That smells amazing,” Temari declared. Beside her, her husband leaned over to get a whiff. 

“Yowza,” Shikamaru agreed, lifting his sunglasses on top of his head. 

“Sell me a bottle of that,” Temari requested. 

Sakura picked up the menu. “This is still in development. You’ll have to wait,” Sakura told her as she flipped through the salads and pastas. 

“Better yet, just come work for us. We’ll pay double what Ino pays,” Shikamaru suggested.

 Temari slapped his arm. “We can’t afford that. Don’t lie to her,” she scolded. 

Despite being on the receiving end of a lecture, Shikamaru stared at Temari. Adoration shining in his eyes. His face so soft that Sakura almost felt embarrassed to see it. And it tugged at something in the back of her mind. Like a memory buried in a blind spot. No matter how hard she dug, she could never seem to find it. 

That night, the silver-purple of the wisteria tree filled her dreams. Sakura closed her eyes. 

“I won’t peek,” she assured him. 

Stretching her arms out, she waited. Just the whisper of the tree branches swaying in a non-existent wind. And it occurred to her then, like it had all the times before, that it was silent here. No birds, no insects. Not even the cautious croak of a frog. 

His hands slipped over her eyes. But when she twisted around, she felt his hands go limp. She pressed her face against his chest instead, listening to the thunder of his heart. Taking in that smell again that she could never remember outside of these dreams. She gripped the back of his shirt, suddenly a little angry.

“It’s getting worse,” she scolded him. 

“Forgive me.”

“You’re such a fool,” she sighed. Her hands tightened on his shirt. She felt his hands rest on her lower back, hugging her a little closer. 

“My fool,” she then added. 

His heartbeats grew heavier. More insistent. Beating like angry war drums.

“Please stop looking for me. I’m begging you, my love,” he pleaded. 

“No,” she answered, almost smiling. “Never, ever.”

It started as little things. Just a slight ringing in her ears. The doctor assured her that it was due to stress and recommended melatonin to help her sleep at night. 

But the strangest thing was that she could almost hear something in that ringing. Muffled and smothered deep somewhere in that noise. A voice that she would know anywhere yet could not remember. And more than that, there was a strange fragrance that haunted her. No matter how much she experimented, she could never get it quite right.

All fragrances had a combination. Mossy, earthy, floral, fruity. All it took was the right number of drops to evoke a memory or a place. Vanilla and fruit mixed with almond brought in the memories of homemade cookies. Rose and sandalwood made people remember their mothers putting on their makeup in the morning.

“I don’t get it. What’s wrong with this? It smells great,” Ino said, lifting the dropper to her nose. 

“It’s not right,” Sakura mumbled. She rubbed her hands over her face, letting out a sigh. 

“What’s it supposed to smell like?” Ino asked. And Sakura knew that she was just trying to be helpful.

“I... I don’t know. I can’t remember,” Sakura admitted as the ringing returned to her right ear. Just high-pitched enough to make her wince.

“Do you remember?” she asked him. She didn’t even remember the beginning of the conversation. But she was wrapped up in his arms again. The wisterias brushing against her cheek and hair. The heavens and all the stars blocked by the fluffy petals that sagged down to the ground. 

“Of course I do,” he answered. His voice was filled with so much pain. She knew it was her fault, but she wasn’t sorry.

“You can’t avoid it forever,” she warned him. 

His arms tightened around her. She felt his chest hitch. It felt hot against her cheek. His fragrance filled her nose and her mouth. Swept down her throat, expanding her lungs.

“I can fix this. If only I had more time. I can.... I can...” he whispered. 

Her chest ached at the brokenness of every syllable he spoke. This was not him. This was not how he was supposed to be. 

“I’ll find you soon, my love. Wait for me,” she promised. 

When she opened her eyes, again, Sakura found them overflowing with tears. Her hands grasping at thin air. 

“Ouch!”

“You alright?” Ino asked, looking up from her files. She found Sakura standing at her work station, her left hand twisted around her thumb. The rose she had been working with lay abandoned on the counter. Bright red droplets oozed up from the gouge the thorn had left in her skin. The ringing rising and rising, filling her ears, piercing her head with the pain of the whispers that rose with fervor.

Ino plucked some tissues out of the box as she walked over to her. But when she handed them to Sakura, there was no reaction. 

“Hey. Sak,” Ino said, waving the tissues a little.

“Of course,” muttered Sakura. 

“Huh?”

“It was... this. This was missing,” Sakura whispered. Her eyes fixed on the blood that flowed from her finger now. It dripped onto the counter. Onto the bright green stem of the guilty rose. 

And the smell of the blood filled each of her breaths. She closed her eyes. She could see the fluffy wisteria waving in the breeze. The way the petals seemed to glow with ethereal light. And the shape of his lonely silhouette standing under that tree. Waiting for her. 

The scents combined all at once. Earth, bark, rain, wisteria.

And blood.

She opened her mouth to call the name she could now remember. The name that had been hiding in those whispers all this time.

“Madara.”

“Sakura, what are you-”

Before Ino could finish her question, Sakura was enveloped in golden tendrils of light. And then she was gone.

The gate to the Well of Souls was locked. As it had always been. 

Somehow, she knew that she was right on time.

Sakura held her hand up. The bars of the gate buckled, crumpling inwards. They twisted until the chains binding them snapped, sparks flying. And after she stepped through, the bars righted themselves. The links of the chains coming together, like they had never parted in the first place. With each step, the darkness receded. Crawling away from each of her footsteps, as if fleeing her presence. 

Up ahead, she could see the glow of the wisteria tree. Ancient and young all at once. The blossoms never withering, petals falling and scattering only to rise back up to their places. The branches swaying in a silent wind. 

“Madara.”

The curtain of the wisteria parted for him. He peered out at her past the glowing flowers. The golden manacles on his wrists jangling together with each of his movements. Dark movements fluttered behind him.

“I begged you not to look for me. Why are you here?” he spat. Face contorting as the chains on his ankles jerked him back when he strayed too far from the tree. 

“Have I ever listened to you before?” she laughed, taking a step toward him instead. He retreated back under the cover of the wisteria tree. Eyes the color of blazing flames as he turned them away from her. 

“It was said long ago, Madara,” she went on as she ducked past the flowers. He stood with his back to her. 

“When the serpent who guards the Well of Souls breaks free from his chains, it is the beginning of the end,” she recited. She drew closer. When her hand touched his shoulder, Madara flinched away from her. She grabbed him by the chain instead. The gold felt cold against her palm.

“As he breaks his bonds, the serpent will shake the foundations of the world tree. He brings forth calamity. The sun will descend to the lower levels of the underworld. The moon and the stars turn their faces from the world in pity of its destruction.”

Madara finally looked at her when she touched his cheek. His eyes too bright.

“It’s time to go free, Madara,” she told him. 

“I didn’t want you to be here,” he spat. Teeth gleaming white and sharp as his lips pulled back. 

“Why?”

“I’m the monster that destroys the world,” he hissed. 

A smile softened her face. She cupped his face in her hands, laughing a little at how he stooped so that she could reach. 

“And I’m the monster that frees you,” she reminded him. She drew him in for a kiss. Lips lingering and soft. The fragrance of the wisteria unbearably sweet. 

“You love this world,” Madara mumbled against her mouth. 

Eyes still closed, she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. 

“The beginning and the end are one in the same, my love,” Sakura assured him. She kissed him one last time before she let her hands slide down his shoulders, trailing down his arms, to his wrists. The manacles melted under her touch. The gold dripping down his wrists and fingers. The chains around his ankles dissolved just as quickly. 

Then the world erupted in flames. The wisteria tree blackening and crackling as the heat engulfed it. The bark splintered as the delicate purple flowers dissolved into soot. He razed and he thrashed. A howl ripping through his throat as he watched the world crumble all around him. All the while, the flames burned hotter and hotter, blackening the mountains as they sunk into the seas along with the sun.

And when the flames had finally died down. When all was silent. He heard the footsteps crackling through the soft blanket of ash that had descended on the barren world. 

Madara lay huddled on his side. HIs throat raw, his limbs heavy. 

“Is it done?” he asked, needlessly.

“Yes,” Sakura answered, just as needlessly. 

She lay down in the ash beside him. Resplendent and smiling as she laid her hand over his cheek. 

“You can rest now, my love. You’ve done so well,” she murmured. Despite the weariness that weighed his limbs down, Madara moved his head, his forehead touching hers. Tears spilling from his eyes as he finally let them close. 

“This time, we’ll make something beautiful,” he promised her.

“We always do,” she answered. 

“You know, legends say that the world is made from the bodies of the gods,” Ino remarked. Sakura looked up from her book, blinking. 

“What?”

“Yeah. According to the myth, the oceans come from their blood, the mountains from their bones. And according to one myth, the world is reborn every millennium. How crazy is that!” Ino laughed at the absurdity of it all. 

Sakura turned her head to look out the window. For a moment, she saw long branches dripping with purple flowers. When she blinked, they were gone. A soft ringing in her ears echoed faintly. Carrying a whisper of something that she couldn’t quite understand. 

“....yeah..... How weird,” Sakura mused, chin in her hand. 

[cottontail20]

The Domestic Life Of The Vision And His Witch, Chapter 26: Te Vei Casatori Cu Mine?

Summary: After all his planning, Vision is finally ready to propose to Wanda.

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461504/chapters/50708360

Vision held Wanda close as she slept, the early morning light filtering through the window to perfectly illuminate her face. Perfectly at peace, no longer suffering the nightmares that had once plagued her.

To Vision, she was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He hoped Today was perfect too.

Today was the day. The day all his planning would pay off. Today was the day that he would ask Wanda Maximoff to be his Wife.

Vision pressed a kiss to Wanda's forehead, then her nose, her perfect rosy cheeks. Only when she had begun to stir did he kiss her lips, gently coaxing his beloved to full wakefulness.

"Mmm.." Wanda smiled against Vision's lips, one hand curling around the back of his head to lazily return his kiss. "Buna dimineata.."

"Good Morning to you, too" Vision smiled as he broke the kiss, his breath catching when Wanda's eyes opened to look at him properly. She had such beautiful soft green eyes.

"Are the boys awake yet?" She asked him, gently stroking the back of his neck.

"I'm sure they will be, any moment now" Vision held her closer, savouring whatever time they had before the twins woke demanding attention. "But not yet. Clint and Laura are going to babysit for us tonight. I have a special surprise for you.."

"Oh?" Wanda kissed him again. "What kind of surprise?"

"If I told you that" Vision returned the kiss, "It might not be a surprise anymore."

At that moment, a soft cry of 'Mama' could be heard from next door, and Wanda's eyes lit up. Billy had not said 'Dada' yet, but Vision could wait a little longer if it meant he got to keep seeing that wonderful look on Wanda's face whenever their son called her 'Mama'.

Another moment, and Tommy had begun wailing.

"There they are" Wanda chuckled, disentangling herself from Vision's. "Let's go get them, and I will make you tell me more about this surprise.." She winked.

"Oh, I really don't think you will.."

Wanda could always just read him, but he knew that she wouldn't. It was an unspoken agreement between them that, after the civil war, they would never use their powers against each other. Besides that, Wanda generally avoided reading people who's privacy she did not want to invade, and then there was the minor point that a part of her probably already knew what Vision was planning, and didn't want to ruin it for him. --

That afternoon, while Wanda was dropping the boys off with Clint and Laura, Vision packed the car. He packed a picnic basket filled with all of Wanda's favourite things, a picnic blanket to sit on, and other blankets, pillows, and sleeping bags. And, of course, the ring. All his plans would be pointless if he forgot the ring. He drew the ring-box from his pocket, opening it for a moment to examine the precious piece of jewellery. He hoped Wanda liked it.

"You ready to go, Vizh?"

Vision jumped at the sound of Wanda's voice, hurriedly shoving the box back into his pocket.

"Yes, I'm ready."

"You okay?" She raised an eyebrow. "You seem a little.. ametit."

"Flustered? No, of course not" Vision jumped in the passenger seat.

"Vizh, aren't you driving?"

Vision's cheeks reddened, and he hurried out of the car to get in the driver's side.

"That's better" He grinned sheepishly.

Wanda smirked, hopping in beside him. --

Wanda trusted Vision, completely. However, when their car pulled up outside 177A Bleecker Street, she couldn't help but feel just a little.. Confused.

"Vision, where are we?"

"You'll see" Vision politely opened the door, stopping to fetch their supplies before leading her up the front steps to knock on the door.

Wong soon answered it.

"Vision, nice to see you again.. I'll take you straight through to his office.

"Thank you, Wong."

Wanda let Vision continue to lead her, but only felt more confused, especially when they entered a rather unusual office, and a man in strange robes stood to.. Hang on, hadn't she seen that guy on television?

"Vision, you made it" The man smiled, shaking Vision's hand before turning his attention to Wanda. "And you must be Wanda Maximoff. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Doctor Stephen Strange."

"Oh!" Recognition sparked in Wanda's eyes, and she took the hand he offered. "You're the wizard who went into space with Tony and Peter."

"And you're the woman who saved the universe" Strange replied.

"That may be a slight exaggeration.." Wanda blushed.

"Oh, it's no exaggeration" Strange smiled. "The choices you made made all the difference. You are a hero, Miss Maimoff."

"Thank you.." Wanda blushed deeper, so, sensing her discomfort at the praise she was getting, Strange turned back to Vision.

"Do you have everything you want to take with you?"

"Yes" Vision nodded.

"Alright then, just a moment.." Doctor Strange waved his hand in a circular motion, and what looked to be a portal opened.

"What the.." Wanda gaped.

"Just step through" Strange instructed, "And call when you're ready to come back, alright?"

"Yes, thank you" Vision excitedly pulled the very confused Wanda through the portal, which soon closed behind them. --

Though the experience was slightly disorienting for Wanda, once she recovered enough to look around, it didn't take her long to work out where they were. The undisturbed feel of the place, miles away from anyone or anything. The darkening sky, impossibly clear, filling with stars. And memories that both warmed Wanda's heart and made her blush.

"This is where we.."

"It is." Vision nodded. While Wanda was taking everything in, he had set up a picnic, and was currently pouring a glass of a fruity wine that Wanda enjoyed.

"I love you.." Wanda smiled softly as he handed her the glass.

"I love you too" Vision smiled back. --

Sometime later, Wanda sighed happily, pleasantly full with all the food Vision had brought for her, and leaned against his shoulder, gazing up at the stars.

"This was wonderful, Vizh.. Thank you."

"You're w-welcome.." The ring was starting to feel as though it was burning a hole in his pocket.

Vision had practised the words, over and over. In front of the mirror. To the twins (while Tommy had quickly grown bored, Billy had listened rather intently). To Wanda as she slept.

Now was the time to put that practice to good use. Wanda had already told him she was going to accept his proposal when it came, but even knowing this, he was still so nervous..

"Vision.." Wanda sensed his nerves, "Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all.. at least, I hope not.." Vision forced his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small box.

"Oh.." Wanda's breath caught in her throat. She'd known this was coming, had even suspected, earlier, that it might be coming Today.. and yet, it was still a surprise. That Vision was serious, that he really wanted to be with her forever.

"Wanda, I love you, so much.. You've given me more than I ever could have hoped for, and there's nothing I want more than to spend forever by your side. So.." Vision took a deep breath. Opened the ring-box. Said the words one more time in his head, hoping the pronunciation was right, before speaking in Wanda's language. "Te vei casatori cu mine?"

"Oh, Vizh.." Wanda knew how much he had struggled pronouncing Sokovian in his early days, and the effort he had put in to learn, for her, touched her heart, bringing happy to tears to her eyes.

Of course, at the sight of her tears, Vision immediately panicked.

"Oh dear.. I'm sorry.. I must have pronounced it.. Mmm.." His panicked ramble was cut off when Wanda kissed him deeply, passionately, pouring all her feelings for him into the kiss.

When she broke the kiss her forehead still pressed to his, a single, breathlessly whispered word escaped her lips.

"Da.."

"Da.." Vision blinked, then his eyes lit up. "Da.. But that means..""

"Yes" Wanda nodded, a bright smile spreading across her face. "Yes, frumoasa mea idiota, Yes, I will Marry you!"

Vision grinned and kissed Wanda again, then moved to slip the ring onto her finger. Wanda admired it, the ruby at it's centre glinting in the starlight.

"Do you like it?" Vision asked quietly.

"It's beautiful, Vizh.. absolutely perfect. I love it."

"I'm glad. I designed it myself, just for you."

"You did?" Wanda's eyes sparkled.

"I did."

Wanda kissed Vision once again, climbing into his lap. Looked around slyly.

"So..this place is still hundreds of miles away from anyone or anything, right? No one to see or hear us?" She lightly kissed his neck.

"Mmm.." Vision tilted his head. "Yes, that is right."

"Good.." Wanda worked at the buttons of his shirt. "Because we have a night without babies and a lot to celebrate.."

Notes:

Translation:

Te vei casatori cu mine?: Will you Marry me?

frumoasa mea idiota: My beautiful idiot.

[neshabeingchildish]

Hello Stranger.

A few different things went into the creation of this fic. One was a request: “A story 10 years in the future. Henry has not seen or communicated with Charlotte in years. His best friend, Jasper sets him up on a blind date with an old friend.” Another was a chat with the fandom bestie about various ideas we both have the mind for but not necessarily the time for. But, what really made me definitely go for it/make the time for this one was me rewatching Moonlight and remembering the classic goodie that is Hello Stranger by Barbara Lewis. It’s not very long and I don’t have the time to make it longer, so hopefully, it’s enjoyable.

Hello Stranger.

Jasper knocked on Henry’s door and wondered, “Are you cancelling the date?” 

Henry was literally in his boxers with a bowl of Frittles and about to turn on the Dog Judge marathon on the classics channel. “Ohhh… Yeah… I guess, I am!” He reached for his phone to text Jasper’s friend, but Jasper snatched the phone and texted instead, So sorry! Running late. Will definitely be there. “There! She’s expecting you to be a little late. Let’s get you dressed, now!” He took the bowl, much to Henry’s dismay and pulled him up by the wrists.

“Dude, just because you just got engaged doesn’t mean I need to go on a date!”

“No, it doesn’t. But, you’re certainly not gonna cancel a surprise date that I worked my butt off to arrange for you to sit in your underwear eating chips!”

“Some people would kill to have that option…” Henry complained. Jasper was hearing none of it. This was probably the best date that Henry would ever have. He had been sinking more and more into his work and becoming numb in every other area of his life. He barely noticed when Jasper stopped coming home, when Jasper fell in love, and when Jasper got around to being so involved with his partner that he was now engaged and getting ready to plan the rest of his life. He hardly even seemed to care when Jasper told him. He’d simply said, “Okay, well, I can move into the gift shop. That office in the back has room for a little bed.”

No! Jasper didn’t want to see his best friend die, a sad, lonely old man, or worse… Be a soulless manbaby like Ray Manchester. He wanted to see him happy and in love, or at least among a friend or two. It couldn’t be Jasper, right now. He would do what he could, but planning a wedding, contemplating children, and selecting a family dog were all his top priorities for now… If only he could get his worries off of Henry’s lack of a social life. So, he set him up on a blind date with an old friend and wanted it to be a surprise to the both of them.

His plan - to get them there to meet up and then voila! Seeing each other should do the rest. But, he didn’t want too much anticipation, so he just referred to them as “A friend that I think you’d like,” and gave them contact numbers and got them to text what they would be wearing. Now, Henry was so disinterested in this date that he forgot it was even happening; nevermind what she was supposed to be wearing! But, Jasper searched the text and found Henry’s outfit to fit the description… But it was “like a flannel shirt or plaid or something and jeans and boots.” Jasper rolled his eyes. 

But her response had been, “Okay. Sounds casual. Then, I’ll have maybe a floral blouse and khaki shorts. I’ll throw a flower in my hair in case the place is riddled with cutiepies in khaki.”

Jasper wiped his face, “It’s like neither of them even want to do this.”

.

Charlotte was already at the bar, with a virgin drink in a coconut. If Jasper’s little friend was gonna be all casual and stuff, she decided on a pretty casual place, but one with great ambience that wasn’t too far from her house, in case he was a loser. He was friends with Jasper, so… She chuckled and shook her head. That wasn’t nice. Besides, you dated him! But, that was ages ago. She and Jasper. And, it was honestly unexpected and probably just a move of convenience. They’d just gotten so close being in the background of all of Kid Danger’s things… She smiled to herself. Kid Danger. Henry Hart… Now, what the heck was HE up to?

She wondered if he’d kept in touch with Jasper. He certainly hadn’t kept in touch with her. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Henry in 10 years, despite all of those “friends always” declarations they’d made over the years as friends. It was surprising to her, but she got it. The guy was a superhero. Keeping in touch couldn’t be easy. She wasn’t even a hero and even keeping in touch with Jasper had been difficult for her, especially in the past few years. Engaged??? That was bonkers to her. He was probably still a great guy and all, but that somebody was ready to marry him forever… That was… Incredible. 

“Charlotte Page?” She heard a voice say and she turned and SPEAK of the Devil!

“Henry Hart?” her face brightened and she smiled and said, “Wow! HI! Good to see you!” She reached for a hug. “What are you doing here?” She asked. Then, she winced a little. It’s a bar and grill. He’s probably here for dinner, ya gunch!

Well, he didn’t want to say that he was meeting a date. In fact… Now, he didn’t want to meet his date! In fact… He had to cancel that date and Jasper would just have to be mad at him later. Charlotte obviously noticed his hesitation and filled in the space with her own plans, “I’m uh… I’m meeting someone for dinner, but I think he’s running late, if you wanna try to catch up for a bit?”

“Yeah. I do. I’d love that. I’ve just gotta run to the bathroom and wash my hands, then I’ll be right back to see what the ever-beautiful Charlotte Page is up to these days.” Henry rushed off and she smiled at his retreating back, noticing that he was in plaid and jeans. Wait… She took her phone out to check the text, because that was pretty much what her Jasper date was supposed to be wearing, and that would be quite the coincidence if… Hey. It’s Jasper’s friend. So sorry. Something really important came up and I can’t make it. Hopefully you have a great night though. She looked suspicious. More and more, this was looking like… She saw Henry returning, and tossed her phone into her bag and tried not to drool over him. 

He looked good. Like really good. And… his plaid was gone. Why was his shit gone? He just had on a t-shirt now. “Spilled water on myself, like an idiot and had to ditch my shirt,” he said. 

She laughed at that. “How do you spill water on yourself washing your hands?”

“I actually remembered that I had to wash my face too and also brush my teeth…”

“How and why would you even leave your home without doing that?” She asked, pretty disgusted.

“Enough about me! What’s up with you? You look good. You said that you’re meeting somebody?”

“Yeah. Well, not anymore. My schedule has freed, so - you wanna be my date tonight?” As soon as it came forth from her lips, she regretted it and tried to correct herself, “Not like date, but you know, like a date, an old friend date or whatever… Not… It doesn’t have to be a date, but…”

“I’d love to be your date,” he said, cutting her off and beckoning the bartender over. “What are you drinking? Something girly?”

“Something fruity and alcohol free.”

“No drinking for Ms. Page?”

“Not while I’m on a date. It hinders the decision making portion of the brain.”

“You won’t be obnoxious about it if I order a drink, will you?”

“Absolutely not. I do find it harder to trust people’s words and actions when they’ve hindered the decision making portion of their brain, but a great deal of my business happens because of those types of mistakes.”

“Morbid. What kind of doctor are you?”

She laughed, “What makes you think that I’m a doctor?”

“Well, I remember that you were going to go into engineering or medicine. I just haven’t talked to you enough to know which direction you went in.”

“Well, I was an engineering major, but I changed halfway through college. Never EVER bring that up to my parents, because they are both still pissed at me, to this day! I had gone through a bad breakup and my ex was top of our class and in the same field. I wanted both some distance and a change, so I let her have that world and I dove head first into political science.”

“Her? Your ex was a her?” Henry asked smiling.

“Grow up, Henry. People should connect at soul.”

“No, I agree. I just didn’t know. I knew you and Jasper dated in college. I thought that was pretty funny.”

“I don’t know if I like the word funny to describe that. It was definitely not perfect, but Jasper will always have a special place in my heart. He’s a good friend and he was a good boyfriend. He just wasn’t one for a long journey.”

“One for a long journey?” The bartender came and Henry said, “Yeah, I just need a licorice soda with a lime.” She grimaced at that order. That sounded disgusting. But, he went back to the conversation, “What is one for a long journey?”

Charlotte smiled and said, “Well… I don’t believe in eternity. I don’t believe in soul mates. I don’t believe in ‘the one.’”

“Great date topic.”

“Don’t interrupt. What I do believe is that individuals evolve and develop and the people that we interact with add to and take away from our lives, in order for us to become our best selves. We have to use every connection that we have as a means to grow. People are there so that we can take a journey together that nobody else is equipped to take with us. Sometimes the journey is short. Mine and Jasper’s was because we were friends stepping out into a bright new world and scared shitless. We needed support and wanted romantic connection in the meantime. It was great for what we both needed at the time. He helped me to relax when I was stressed and I helped him to take things seriously. It flowed until neither of us were getting what we wanted or needed and both of us knew that the journey had ended. But, then I met someone who… if I did believe in soul mates, she could have been that… But, a couple of years later, I realized that even though it was a longer journey than Jasper’s, it wasn’t an endless journey. I also realized that my journey needed a detour.”

“All of that is so over my head. Basically what I heard is that you love being in love but it's being committed that you’re unsure of.”

“You heard a different monologue than I gave, I assure you,” she laughed. “I am very committed, as a friend, a lover, or a business associate. My trustworthy reputation is how I keep clients.”

“You never told me what you do! You went into political science… Wait! Are you a lawyer?”

She smiled and said, “I thought about it, but I wound up working as a political analyst after becoming popularized by my commentary on social media and ran out of the time and energy for law school. I did eventually take the bar exam in a state that lets you do that without finishing law school, but I only did that to say that I did it.” She laughed.

“Same overachieving Char. So, you built an online rep and wound up doing well.”

“Yep. I went into crisis management a couple of years ago and recently started my own firm.”

“Crisis management…”

“Like what Olivia Pope does, but not as sensational… or as dangerous. Though, I have definitely gotten death threats…”

Henry suddenly looked alarmed and went into protective mode, “From who? They ever find them?”

She laughed and said, “Calm down, Hero. No need to blow a bubble tonight… Is that still how you do it?” She wondered. He raised an eyebrow and finally got his soda. “You know what? After 10 years, it's totally inappropriate of me to wonder about that part of your life. I’m sorry I asked.”

“No. It’s alright. I mean… I always presumed that you knew I was still working.”

“I am definitely a Captain Danger fangirl,” she said and blushed slightly.

“He’s alright.”

“Not according to my research. He’s expanded outside of Swellview, Bordertown, Neighborville, Rivalton, and I heard that he might be looking to expand even as far as Metroburg.”

“Jasper’s not supposed to be telling people stuff, Man.”

“He’s really bad at secrets when it comes to me, but he did good this time. I had no idea that he was setting this up.”

“Setting what up?”

“...This date. Didn’t Jasper send you here to meet up with a friend of his tonight?”

“Yeah… Wait… That was you???”

“Yeah. You totally ditched me tonight to go on a date with a more charming, hotter woman.”

Henry was bright red in the face. “I am so sorry! Why didn’t he just say that he wanted us to meet up? He knows I hate blind dates.”

“Maybe he didn’t think you’d want to see me. Last time we talked, it was pretty… uncertain how things would go. Then, we never talked again. Whenever we were dating, he would always ask, ‘Have you and Henry still not talked?’ and I’d tell him that you never call.”

“You never called, either.”

“I didn’t think it should be up to me. You were the one who was angry. I gave you space. I guess Jasper decided it was too much space.”

“Jasper decided that he didn’t want to see me move onto a cot in office of the florist and gift shop that I opened a floor above Junk n’ Stuff, because that’s what I intend to do since my roommate is getting married and it’d be a dick move to try to get him to move out of our apartment.”

“Jasper and Donovan are not moving into that apartment. They’ve got a house.”

“Jasper and Donovan have a house?”

“Donovan has a house and they’ll expect Jasper to move in, I’m sure…” She squinted her eyes and reminded him, “You know that Donovan’s pronouns are they, their, them?”

“Right. I do know that. Because, I was definitely told that. And I definitely can’t determine outside of that who Donovan might be.”

“You are borderline being transphobic. Donovan is nonbinary and they look androgynous, but anything beyond that is quite frankly none of our business.”

“I wasn’t being phobic. I just never really got a chance to be around this person much and now Jasper is marrying them? Like… Where did the time go? Where did my friends go?” He blinked a little and Charlotte reached out and held his hand. He looked at their hands, then into her eyes.

“Whoever you need on your journey will definitely be in your path whenever you do need them.” She smiled and squeezed his hand, “It feels good to be back…. You want to order something to eat?” His thumb caressed her skin and he nodded. She grabbed the menu that had been sitting in front of her this entire time and said, “I heard this place had a rockin’ jackfruit menu.”

“Jackfruit? They have a tomahawk steak called the Hunk o’ Cow… It’s like… It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“I’m not eating a hunk of cow. Oooh, I see the jackfruit menu. This jackfruit poke bowl sounds good.”

“It absolutely does not!” 

.

After dinner, Henry walked Charlotte to her car and she was unsure if they should hug it out, kiss, if she should invite him to her place, ask to come to his… “Hey… I had a really great time. If this was a date with anyone else, I might wonder if they would like a nightcap. Me and you… There’s just so much history in the air. But, if you’re fine with us taking a different journey than we initially had before, my place isn’t far.”

Henry wrapped his hands around Charlotte’s waist and pulled her to himself for a hug. He felt her shiver in his touch and as much as he enjoyed that, she was right. There was a lot of history there and in his opinion, not nearly as much catching up as he needed in order to let his guard down with her yet. “That sounds amazing, but maybe another time? I definitely want some kind of journey with you. Just… Maybe a slow one, if that’s okay?” 

She smiled and nodded. “Of course it is.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and got into her car. “You have my number now. Call me. Don’t wait ten years.” 

“You kidding. You might be stuck on a very long journey with me, now.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she said and winked. “It was really good to see you, Hen.” She started her car and this song began to play on the satellite station she had on. She heard the words and wondered if that was some kind of sign as she drove home. 

[unholyhelbiglinked]

Dead Ivy | Chapter One

CHECK IT OUT FROM THE START | AO3 LINK

Beca could feel the soil beneath her fingertips. It was soft, freshly overturned, and in a way, comforting. She was careful not to let her knees touch the ground- not privy to the dark stains that would splay against the fabric. The tree stood tall above her, stretching its large oak branches towards the pluming blue sky. A nice summer breeze tussled her hair, and she was sure that if she breathed in, she would smell freshly cut grass and chlorine from the neighbor’s pool.

The treehouse had long since been torn down to make room for her mother’s garden. Something that stood at the end of the fenced in yard. For a while, she grew tomatoes and zucchini. Beca could still remember the first red bulb that poked its head from the dirt. They made a salad from store-bought spinach and divided up the little thing, no bigger than a golf ball. It was still the best tomato that Beca had ever had.

She sighed at the hand that squeezed her shoulder gently. Her father smelled of aftershave and bourbon. His tie wasn’t fastened all the way to his white button down, and he had strung his suit jacket over his arm. He held a sad look that was shielded by the sun as Beca squinted at him. She pulled herself to her feet, feeling the age of her aching bones as she stepped back from the large oak tree and stared up at the branches.

“Do you remember when I fell out of this tree and broke my arm?” She asked.

Her fathers’ eyes crinkled at the memory as he gave her a sad smile. She had needed him to run beside her when he first took the training wheels off her bike. She had needed him when she learned how to drive and took out the Johnson’s mailbox. But when she dropped from a higher spot in the oak tree and felt something audibly snap, it was her mother that came to the rescue.

She had been clipping up sheets to the clothesline, claiming that the summer air was always better for stuff like that. A beautiful woman that would beam endlessly and cradle Beca in her arms with her stormy eyes and eerie calm. Beca needed that right now. Needed it to get through the handshakes and the hugs. The baked goods and casseroles that people deemed necessary when something like this happened.

“I do.” He chuckled wearily, “I got a call at work that something had happened. You scared the hell out of me that day, kid.”

Beca snorted at the nickname. She and her father had gotten along significantly better since she moved out on her own- took up a place and a prominent career across the country in Los Angeles of all places. She had, of course, taken time off work to come back for the funeral. To pull into the sleepy little Georgia town with a giant oak tree that shook in the summer breeze. She squinted at the bark, at the carving so crudely made by a grooved pocket knife.

C + B FOREVER & EVER

The second half was etched in different handwriting, something more elegant and thought out. It was funny, really. When they were kids, it was easier to think about the future in terms of relationships. Of course, they would always be with one another- they wouldn’t fathom being apart. But then college. Careers. Plane rides. Marriage, kids, and divorces. All inevitable. All anything but forever.

“She still lives around here, you know? Owns a little café in the far side of town.”

“That so?”

He grunted and sniffed away any feeling that still leaked in his voice. No one would question them for standing out here- but they still felt obligated to go back inside the old farm style house with the wrap around porch and the honeysuckle bushes. Beca didn’t know how he could still live here. “Yeah. You should pay her a visit while you’re here. I bet she’d like that.”

Beca simply nodded and let the tips of her fingers trace of the words that had been weathered over time, but they were still there. They had stood the test of time, unlike her treehouse. Unlike the little plants of tomatoes and zucchini that had rotted away to decaying vines that stretched like deadened ivy up the side of the fence.

“Right. Well, we should probably go back inside. The quicker we talk to everyone, the quicker they can go home and mourn their memories.”

It was a grim thing to say, but it was the truth, so her father let the words die in the air before sliding on the suit jacket to cover up the sweat stains against his dress shirt. She let her hand fall and looped it around his arm like he was escorting her down the carpeted floor of a chapel on her wedding day. Instead of white, she dawned black, though. And so, did he.

She thought that drinking and sadness walked hand and hand. It was why the only two bars in town did so well on any given night, and if things were bad, any given day. The other place, the snake eye, had karaoke on Friday nights and Beca didn’t think she was well equipped to listen to TLC, so she chose The Red Sun instead.

There were repurposed Christmas lights strung against the bottom of the counter, hot to the touch. A low rock ballad cracked over the loudspeaker. She wasn’t sure if the jukebox that changed light settings every few beats actually had a purpose or if it just ate up quarters. Either way, Beca Mitchell was in her own world.

She tilted her head back and let the bourbon burn on the way down. A nice and subtle sting that washed the taste of stale crackers out of her mouth. It was the only thing in her stomach- despite the spread that was now packed with tin foil in the fridge. Her father was drinking too, she was sure, at home in his study. The house was too quiet for her, though.

Beca felt a twinge of guilt in her gut.

She had ignored the last call from her brother. She was in the middle of the meeting, and at the time, the buzzing of her phone sounded louder than anything else in the world. She flushed instantly and clicked the side of the device before staring back down at her notes and sunk further into her seat.

He had died the next day, she had forgotten to call him back. A car accident and a drunk driver. Which, she supposed, defeated the purpose of being here- in this stupid some-hazy bar with nothing but time on her hands. She considered switching her flight to something earlier. But then reconsidered as quickly as the thought entered her mind. Her father needed her, at least for now.

“Beca Mitchell?” The voice startled her, it broke through the garbled focus of the next song. She blinked a few times and turned her head to the side. Stacie Conrad. She looked older, wiser even, but maybe that was the glasses. The smile on her face aged her, but in the best way. Still impossibly attractive, and confident, it seems. “Is that really you?”

“As I live and breathe.”

She winced at her use of words, but Stacie didn’t seem to notice as she quickly wrapped her in an awkward hug, Beca still half-sitting on a bar stool. Still, she craved the embrace and hugged back naturally.  

“God, how are you?” She pulled away, “That’s a stupid question… I mean, as well as you can be, I hope.”

Before Beca could answer she lifted her hand in the air and signaled the bartender, the woman busied herself with preparing Stacie’s usual and pouring another sour edge of bourbon into Beca’s glass. She wasn’t sure if she would drink it or not, but she appreciated the sentiment behind it. Stacie settled into the seat next to her.

“I’m doing fine,” She finally managed, earning a detrimental look. “As well as I can be.”

The bartender set two glasses in front of them and Beca wrinkled her nose at it before focusing her attention on Stacie, the way her own drink looked like radioactive fluid. It was always the fruity things that packed the most punch. Not the gritty glass that she would be nursing for the rest of their conversation.

“I’m sorry to hear about him, you know.” Stacie finally said after a beat of silence.

Beca simply nodded. She was numb to the situation at this point. Her whole body felt like a lead pipe. She and Jason didn’t get along too well. He traveled the world and she resented him for that. But they played nice during the holidays and smiled for family pictures. He got divorced young, married even younger. It still ached her whole entire being.

“You and most of the town,” Beca chuckled dryly, begging for a change of subject. “I haven’t seen you in what? Eleven years?”

“Twelve. God, we’re old.”

She was thankful that her high school friend could take a keenly dropped hint. The two of them encircled the same click during those years. It was better than giving in to the southern tenacity of it all. They would smoke behind the bleachers and drink if they were feeling lucky. They usually were.

Beca caught a glimpse at the wedding band that took over Stacie’s finger. It was simple, not overstated with large diamonds. A simple one that was surrounded by two smaller stones. She smiled “You’re married now?”

She took another gulp of her fruity drink and hummed in response, instinctively twirling it around her ring finger. She got a goofy grin on her face and twirled slightly to make eye contact with Beca. Sure, she had seen the social media posts. The cute announcements and the picturesque scenes.

“Happily, at that, we invited you to the wedding, you know?”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“S’alright,” Stacie said with a beaming smile “Rose loves the panini press.”

Beca scoffed and picked up her glass, chancing a sip of the molten liquid. It hissed as she swallowed, and she blinked away the residual prick of pain that collected behind her eyes. Stacie glanced behind her at the group of girls that she had come in with- doctors like her, she supposed. They all had that tired professional look that the woman beside her carried.

“Listen, uh, how long are you in town? I’d love a chance to catch up in a setting with better lighting.”

“A couple of weeks, at most. We have to settle his estate.” She grimaced at the technical term. “I’ll be around.”

“We’ll catch up, promise?”

She gave Beca a squeeze on her shoulder and a sympathetic smile, but she didn’t say it again and Beca was thankful for that. She watched as Stacie went to the four other colleges that were in her inner circle. They all asked questions and cast wary looks her way- she lifted the glass and gave a smile before turning back to the bartender. She was cleaning out a glass and eyeing her.

“Promise,” Beca mumbled, tipping her head back the rest of the way, finishing the glass of bourbon she hadn’t even ordered.