#who knew it could get worse than the sweater this morning

[daughterofhecata]

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[moonlitwitchdaisy]

No One Should Be Alone On Christmas

❅ summary: Ever since moving to Tokyo for work a month ago, you’d been drowning in loneliness. You hadn’t fully adjusted to the people or the city yet, and worse, you were about to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning all alone. At least, that’s what you thought. In an attempt to forget your loneliness, you went to a bar, where you met the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Other than the fact that he, too, was spending Christmas alone and that he was devastatingly attractive, you knew absolutely nothing about him. If Christmas miracles were real, maybe you could spend this night—and the morning—in Nanami Kento’s arms.

❅ pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader

❅ word count: 6.1k

❅ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 modern au!, reader and nanami are strangers, one-night stand (?), nanami in a turtleneck sweater because why not??, use of alcohol, christmas market date, big mac and cinnamon rolls (yeah i was hungry while writing), use of pet names, mentioning of loneliness, kissing, neck kissing, nipple play, fingering, slow sex that turns rough, mating press, protected sex, mentioning unprotected sex, dominant nanami, also thoughtful nanami (yey)

❅ a little note: hello everyone with my new christmas-themed story! i was supposed to post it last sunday, but since i just got back from a trip and was very tired, i could only post it today. i think it’s a sweet yet spicy one-shot. i hope i can share the next stories within the coming week. if you’d like to check out the masterlist for these christmas stories, here’s the link.

.ᐟ ← previous story (Last Christmas, I Gave You My A**)

.ᐟ next story → (It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year! Or Not?)

“And that was the ridiculous mugging incident I experienced during my first week in Tokyo,” you chuckled to yourself, the effects of alcohol making everything seem funnier. You finished the last sip of beer left in your glass in one go.

You were drunk. Seriously drunk.

Maybe getting some McDonald’s would help. At least it might clear your head, because right now, loneliness and unhappiness were clouding your ability to make rational decisions.

Spending Christmas Eve alone at a bar, drinking beer, and recounting your Tokyo adventures to a bartender who clearly didn’t care wasn’t part of your plans. Christmas had always been a warm and happy time you spent with your loved ones. But now, all you could feel was dizziness and a coldness you couldn’t explain.

You glanced at the time on your phone lying next to the empty beer glass. It was 8 PM. If you were lucky, maybe you’d find an open McDonald’s.

That is, if you could even manage to get up in your current state.

“Hey, uhmm… is there a McDonald’s nearby?” you slurred, somehow managing to form a coherent sentence as you directed your question to the bartender, who had been your reluctant companion for the past hour.

The bartender handed the cocktail glass he’d prepared to a server before turning to you with little enthusiasm. “I doubt it.”

“That’s ridiculous! McDonald’s is everywhere,” you retorted, anger bubbling up from your hunger.

The bartender seemed amused by your drunken indignation, letting out a low chuckle. “Maybe Tokyo, the city of your dreams, doesn’t have one after all.”

“Wait did you actually listen to me?” you asked, frowning at him because every sentence you told him was about how much you love and wanted to come to Tokyo.

“I got bored while making drinks and found listening to the silly stories of someone spending Christmas Eve alone kind of entertaining, I guess.”

“You’re rude,” you muttered, resting your head in your hands.

“And you’re lonely.”

“Alright, enough humiliation! Sure, I’m spending Christmas Eve alone, but you’re here making drinks and listening to a drunk woman ramble on. Ha! Got you! You’re just as lonely as I am.” Triumphant, you raised your head, only to lose your balance and tip backward. You were absolutely sure you were about to hit the floor, but instead, your back collided with something hard.

Maybe it was the backrest of the barstool?

Relieved, you exhaled deeply and turned around with a grin. “Well, if it weren’t for this backr—” Your words cut off mid-sentence because the thing that stopped your fall wasn’t the nonexistent backrest of the stool but a tall, broad figure dressed in black.

And it had blond hair. A truly stunning shade of blond.

The man in black was staring at you with a completely blank expression. It was almost as if he pitied you, but his face gave nothing away.

He shifted his gaze from your face and handed a card to the bartender. “I drank my usual,” he said.

The bartender took the card with a serious nod. “Yes, sir.” He clearly knew who this man was.

By now, you’d stopped leaning against the solid figure that had kept you from falling. Sitting upright on the stool, you realized you desperately needed to eat something and sober up. You reached into your bag to grab your card to pay.

But just as you were about to hand it to the bartender, the velvety voice of the man who had caught you made you turn your head.

“Please add the lady’s drinks to my tab,” he said.

The bartender glanced at the man and then at you, surprised, but didn’t protest as he added your drinks to the total. You stared at the man, trying to process what had just happened.

The blond-haired man was still watching you, his expression unchanging. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he pitied you again. After all, you were a woman spending Christmas Eve alone in a bar, drunk, and nearly cracking your head open on the marble floor. With all that combined, it was probably easy to see you as a pathetic, lonely soul in need of help.

The slight burning sensation in your eyes made it clear that tears were threatening to spill. And they did, quietly running down your cheeks. You didn’t even know why you felt so terrible. Spending Christmas Eve alone wasn’t that bad. You weren’t the only one doing it. Even the bartender, who you thought hadn’t been listening to you, probably was. And the other people quietly nursing their drinks in the bar were in the same boat.

And maybe even the blond-haired man who had stopped you from falling.

But right now, all you wanted was to build snowmen with your family, a tradition you’d done every Christmas Eve.

Screw it. Who wanted to be alone on Christmas?

Grabbing your coat and bag from the stool beside you, you muttered, “I’m sorry,” to the man before stumbling toward the door. The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, making you scrunch your nose. It helped clear your head a little. You were about to pull out your phone to find the nearest McDonald’s when you realized it wasn’t in your bag.

Perfect. Your dramatic exit was now a complete failure.

Quickly wiping the tears from your face, you were about to turn back toward the bar when the door opened, and the blond-haired man emerged, looking concerned. His expression softened when he saw you. You, on the other hand, were standing there with mascara likely smeared all over your face.

He approached you quickly. “Excuse me, you forgot your phone,” he said, handing it to you.

You sniffled, your cold nose stinging, and looked at him gratefully through tear-filled eyes. “Thank you so much. I—I… Oh, God…” And just like that, you broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably.

The scene was so humiliating you wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. A stranger had saved you from falling, paid your tab, brought you your phone, and now had to watch you cry like a child because of your stupid Christmas loneliness.

And here you were, crying again.

Covering your face with your hands, you tried to hide from him. All you wanted was to find that damn McDonald’s, eat until you were stuffed, and go back to your tiny but beloved one-bedroom apartment to bake cinnamon rolls.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you okay, miss? If you’re feeling unwell, I could take you home. Or, if you prefer, I can call a cab,” his soft voice said, breaking through your sobs.

You lowered your hands to look at him, sniffling a few more times. The blond man had a slight accent. His Japanese was fluent, but the words carried a subtle difference in tone. It was strangely captivating. And it wasn’t just his voice that was impressive—his face and build made him almost ridiculously perfect. You’d noticed his face briefly in the bar, but now you could fully appreciate it.

And yet, how could anyone be this nice? Of course you shouldn’t trust him immediately. For all you knew, he could be one of Tokyo’s most wanted criminals. With his black turtleneck, matching coat, and slacks, he had a slight “mob boss” vibe. The glasses softened his sharp features a bit, but actually, no—they made him look even more severe. Still, his previously stoic expression had faded. Now, there was a mix of concern and pity on his face.

You didn’t want his pity. No one wanted to be pitied. But maybe, just maybe, you could use it to feel a little better.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you sniffled again and said, “I’m just… really hungry.”

The blond man responded to your honest statement with a smile, which only made things worse. How could he be even more handsome now?

“Alright, I know a good place. Would you like me to take you there? Don’t worry, I'll just take you there,” he said, his voice as gentle as ever.

Accepting his offer didn’t seem like a bad idea. If you ate something, you’d sober up and fill your empty stomach. The only problem was that you didn’t want to do it alone. Sure, this guy might be Tokyo’s top serial killer, but even killers didn’t commit crimes on Christmas Eve, right?

“Do you like McDonald’s?” you asked, though you doubted it. Looking at his impeccable physique, he probably only ate the healthiest foods imaginable. But you’d already made your offer.

The blond man’s smile widened, and his answer made your heart skip a beat. “I’m sure there’s one nearby.”

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“You’re really hungry.”

Your eyes drifted to the blond-haired man as you bit into your second Big Mac. You were absolutely delighted. You’d managed to find a McDonald’s just a ten-minute walk away (take that, bartender!) and had ordered two Big Macs, two large fries, and an iced tea. The man across from you hadn’t ordered anything. No matter how much you insisted, he said he wasn’t hungry. When he tried to pay for your meal, you’d grabbed yhis wrist and said, “Unless you want me to throw up on you, put your card away.”

He was bigger than you and would probably win if it came to a fight, but you could handle paying for your own food. Sure, it was nice of him to be so polite, but this was a bit much.

“Yooh. I loveee Bog Moc,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, trying to speak as best as you could. It was definitely not respectful, but you’d already cried enough and embarrassed yourself in front of this guy.

The blond-haired man laughed at your attempt to speak. “I’m glad. I hope I’m not bothering you?” he asked casually, folding his arms across his chest.

You swallowed your bite and wiped your mouth with a napkin. “Not at all! If I felt uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have invited you.” You took a sip of your iced tea. “Though, I did wonder if you were a serial killer on the most-wanted list.”

You must’ve genuinely amused him because he threw his head back and laughed. That deep, masculine sound was more beautiful than any song you’d ever heard. This man did everything with elegance.

Unlike you.

He unfolded his arms and rested them on the table. The sleeves of his sweater pushed up slightly, giving you a brief but glorious view of his veiny forearms.

Now you were even hungrier. And this wasn’t a hunger another Big Mac could satisfy. You needed those arms. You needed to taste how strong they were. If you were lucky, maybe you’d get to feel the pleasure of his fingers inside your vagina.

In your wet and swollen vagina.

“Who knows, maybe I am. But if I were, why would you invite me to come along?”

“I thought about it and decided no killer would be boring enough to commit murder on Christmas Eve.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “You’re right. At this moment, I’d rather watch a crying woman devour hamburgers than deal with bloody, tedious business.”

You paused mid-sip of your drink, your face falling at his words.

He must’ve noticed because he immediately looked concerned. “Shit. I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh… As you can see, I’m not great at that.”

But he had made you laugh. The fact that he thought he’d upset you was actually funny. “Do you want to know why I was crying?”

“If it won’t upset you, then yes.” As he spoke, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. That small gesture was enough to make your heart race at 500 beats per second. It was a suspiciously intimate act for someone you’d only known for an hour, but you didn’t think he was trying to seduce you.

“I moved to Tokyo a month ago for a job offer. While moving to the city of your dreams is exciting, there are so many things I miss. I might have a great job, and small apartment which I love but being away from my family and friends is so hard. I know it might sound silly, but I miss them. And this is the time of year I want to be with them the most. Instead, I’m sitting here with a sexy man who still hasn’t told me whether or not he’s a serial killer.” You realized you’d said the word “sexy” only after finishing your sentence, and to cover up the embarrassment of your slip-up, you quickly stuffed a fry in your mouth.

“While I appreciate you saying I’m not bothering you, the fact that you said I’m a sexy stranger who could be a serial killer is truly…” He paused, searching for the right word. “…honorable.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not bad company. I just miss them. Right now, I’d probably be having a snowman-making contest with them and baking cinnamon rolls afterward. My dad is the best at that. He owns a little bakery in my hometown. I try to beat him every year, but I think some things just come down to talent.” As the memories flooded your mind, you shook your head and took a big sip of your drink.

“That sounds wonderful,” he said, looking like he wanted to say more. After a moment, he added, “I’m Japanese, but my maternal grandfather is Danish. I grew up and studied there. Like you, I moved to Japan last month for work.”

“Wow, we really have the same story. What company do you work for?”

“Nanami Structures.”

Your eyes widened at the name. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”

“Yes… Why?”

“The advertising agency I work for is doing their new campaign! We even have a meeting with the owner after New Year’s. Of course, I’ll just be there to take notes. Everything was already planned before I joined them.”

“Then this must be a nice coincidence.”

“Definitely! So, what do you do there?”

The blond man hesitated for a few seconds before answering. “I’m an architect.”

“Cool.”

“Thank you. Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I go through the same struggles as you. I’ve always worked away from my family and only get to see them once a year at best. Still, I make sure to call them every Christmas morning, and they always show me our dog Takuma in his latest Christmas costume.”

“That’s adorable. There’s nothing cuter than dogs in costumes! Especially if they’re dressed as elves.”

“That was last year. My guess for this year is a reindeer costume.”

“If you keep talking, my heart is going to burst from how cute this is.” The two of you laughed, and you realized how much better you felt talking to this stranger. As you finished your fries, it hit you that while you now knew the name of his dog, he still hadn’t told you his own name.

Excitedly, you asked, “Okay, you might be on a most-wanted list, but can you at least tell me your name? Don't worry! I won't tell anyone. I’m just tired of calling you the man with the nice arms and the limp.”

“You think my arms and limp are nice?” He raised a brow, giving you a questioning look.

Apparently, the alcohol was still in your system because you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

He responded with that deep, masculine laughter again. “You can call me Ken.”

“Ken… Honestly, that suits you. You look like a Ken doll.” You extended your hand to him, telling your name. He shook your hand with his large, soft one.

“For someone who draws all day, your hands and fingers are surprisingly soft.”

He glanced at his fingers. “I take good care of them. After all, I need them to keep people satisfied.”

That statement could be interpreted in three ways:

1. He’s an architect who creates designs to impress people.

2. He uses those hands to satisfy partners in bed until they’re utterly spent.

3. Both of the above.

It was probably the first, but your slightly aroused brain was leaning toward the second… or maybe the third.

“I’d be very happy if you told me the cream you use,” you stammered, barely managing to speak through your embarrassment.

“Gladly. If you’re done eating, how about we get some cinnamon rolls?”

Surprised by his suggestion, you asked, “Do you think we can find some? Most places are closed on Christmas Eve. Even this place will close in an hour.” Your original plan had been to bake them at home, but inviting him over seemed too forward. He might have a girlfriend or even a wife. Heck, maybe he even had kids. Okay, probably not a wife or girlfriend—he wouldn’t be spending time with another woman alone if he did. But the kids were still a question mark.

While he offered to find cinnamon rolls, you were mentally drafting his backstory like a TV drama. How ethical was that?

“There’s a Christmas market near where I live, and I saw some on sale earlier,” he said.

You immediately stood up, grabbing your coat and bag. “How far is it?”

Ken laughed, standing and guiding you toward the McDonald’s exit with a hand lightly resting on your back. “Not far, don’t worry.”

It seemed this Christmas Eve wasn’t turning out so bad after all.

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The cinnamon rolls were absolutely delicious. Maybe they weren’t as good as your dad’s, but they were definitely better than the ones you made.

“I don’t know why we didn’t meet earlier,” you said, taking another bite of your cinnamon roll. “If we had, I’m sure we’d be great friends. I’d probably come to this market every day, too!”

Ken laughed as he watched you. “I think we would’ve been great friends, too. And since you eat so much, I’d have made a workout program just for you.”

By the time you’d left McDonald’s and arrived here, you’d talked about so many things. The conversation continued while you searched for a place to sit and as you devoured the cinnamon rolls. Ken might have appeared to be a stern person, but after spending this time with him, you were certain he wasn’t a serial killer. Also, as you had guessed (unlike you), he was one of the healthiest eaters you’d ever met. And after your mini TED Talk on your love for food, he seemed determined to convert you to the joys of a healthy lifestyle.

“Hold it right there, big guy. I’m perfectly happy with my body.”

Ken’s eyes instinctively roamed over your body. You weren’t wearing anything particularly eye-catching—just a white sweater and jeans. But even so, his gaze lingered on you with undeniable appreciation.

You wondered if he wanted to do more than just look, and then he spoke his thoughts aloud. “You should be proud—you have a really great body.” After saying this, he seemed to lower his head, almost embarrassed.

You didn’t want him to be embarrassed. If anything, you wanted him to say more. Much more…

You placed your plastic fork back into the container of cinnamon rolls. “Even though we’re spending Christmas Eve together, I still haven’t thanked you for saving me. If you hadn’t stood behind me when you were about to pay, who knows how much I would’ve embarrassed myself.” You let out a playful groan.

“You’re welcome. But I’d also like to thank you.”

“For what? If it’s for the cinnamon rolls, you’ve already had enough—”

“Oh no, but thanks again for those. If I hadn’t stopped you, I’m pretty sure you would’ve broken my arm.”

That was true. You’d insisted on paying for the rolls yourself as a kind gesture. After all, he’d paid for your drinks. Also, when you handed over your card, seeing his veiny hands and the Rolex on his wrist had almost made you bite those hands right then and there.

“But what I want to thank you for is making me laugh while you were drunk. Also, we’re definitely going to report that mugging incident to the police.”

“Wait, you were actually listening to me?”

“I wasn’t sitting very far from the bar, and after I noticed you, I don’t think I could’ve focused on anything else.”

You stared at Ken with a hungry look in your eyes. The fact that he wanted you made you want to scream with joy. This man had truly saved you from a lonely Christmas. Tonight would end soon, but maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t wake up alone on Christmas morning either.

“You said you live nearby, right?”

“Yes, why? Are you not feeling well?”

“No instead I’m really good. I just want to feel better.”

Ken didn’t say anything for a moment, but the look in his eyes told you he understood exactly what you meant—and that he wanted the same thing.

“Are you sure? If you’re still drunk and don’t want to—”

“I really want you, Ken.”

He still didn’t respond with words; he just kept looking at you with that same hungry gaze.

“Five minutes. It’s just a five-minute walk.”

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“Mffmmp Ken, please…”

As soon as the elevator reached the floor of the luxurious apartment and he opened the door, your lips collided with Ken’s, and you practically jumped into his arms.

He kissed and sucked your lips with such hunger that it felt like he was already inside you. One hand caressed the right side of your face while the other firmly gripped your waist.

He pulled his lips away from yours. “What is it, baby? You want more?” He brushed his lips against yours again but didn’t kiss you. You could feel his hot breath on your lips. “Say it. Say it again.”

“Fuck… Yes, Ken. I want you to pin me to your bed and fuck me until I can’t feel my legs.” You managed to get the words out, panting.

“I knew the moment I saw you that you’d drive me insane.” He pulled you away from the wall where he had you pressed and kissed you again, carrying you toward his bedroom.

You closed your eyes along the way, but you knew you were going upstairs somehow. Was this apartment his? And damn, why was it so big? You were too aroused to focus on anything else. All that mattered to you was the fullness of his luscious lips.

When your back met the soft satin sheets, you opened your eyes. Ken was watching you with a deep hunger in his gaze. Slowly, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before trailing softer kisses downward.

He licked and sucked at your neck, his hands sliding under your white sweater until they reached your breasts. Without rushing, he kneaded them with a deep hunger.

He spoke against your neck, his warm breath making you shiver. “May I take this off?”

The only response you could muster was a loud moan. Ken took it as a yes, planting a final kiss on the sensitive spot of your neck before sitting up and carefully removing your sweater. All that was left was your white lace bra, but instead of taking it off immediately, he let his fingers wander over the lace, particularly around the area of your nipples.

“They’re so soft and beautiful. I could play with them all night.” He leaned down and pressed wet kisses against your bra-covered breasts.

“Oh my god, Ken! Shit—are you going to take it off or not?”

His gaze shifted from your breasts to your face, darkened with desire. He took your right nipple between his teeth over the fabric, making you moan loudly. When he released it, your eyes were still closed, and you were gripping the satin sheets so hard it was a miracle they didn’t tear.

“I like it,” he said, his gaze returning to your breasts. “Besides, the night is long. I’ll take it off when I feel like it.” Without hesitation, he moved to your left breast and gave it the same pleasure as the right.

“Sh-shit, I’ve never—never felt this way before…” Your hands left the sheets and gripped his hair, pulling him closer as if begging for more.

“If I wanted to, I could make you come just by sucking on this perfect nipple, sweetheart.” You were sure he could. If he kept torturing your nipples like this, your panties would be completely soaked.

As if he’d read your mind, his lips left your breast and returned to your neck. He immediately found your favorite spot and began sucking, while one hand moved downward to your soaked, desperate core. You hadn’t even realized when he’d removed your jeans and panties; the pleasure in your breasts had blinded you to everything else.

“So wet and…” His fingers explored your walls, gently rubbing them. “…so warm.”

“KEN… PLEASE.”

“Shhh, be a patient baby. I promise you won’t spend a single second of this Christmas Eve alone or without pleasure,” he said, his lips biting down on your neck as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed it slowly but firmly. “No one will stop my new friend from having a beautiful Christmas.” His fingers moved faster, pressing hard against your most sensitive spot.

“Ughh… Ken, fuck—fuck, I don’t want to—don’t want to be alone.”

His hot breath and quiet curses landed on your neck. “You’re not, sweetheart. I won’t let you be. You’re with me, here, in my bed.”

He drew circles over your clit with his fingers before suddenly plunging them inside you, making you cry out. You didn’t know how he sped up, but as his thick fingers pumped in and out of you, he never slowed down.

“Y-you’re so fast, Ken!” you stammered, barely able to speak from the pleasure. He pressed against your G-spot with such precision that it felt like he’d tear through it.

“Fuck… Right here, isn’t it? That sweet spot. I bet it’s been swollen like this even before we got here,” he said, slowing his pace but pressing harder and deeper against your G-spot. With each deliberate thrust of his fingers, their full length filled you completely.

“YES—YES, THAT’S EXACTLY IT… OH KEN… DON’T—UGH—DON’T STOP!” Both hands moved from the sheets to his head, pulling at his perfectly blond hair as if encouraging him to go deeper.

“Don’t you dare come yet. You’re only coming when I’m inside you for the first time,” he warned as he felt your walls begin to clench around his fingers.

Amid the wet, obscene sounds of your core, you tried to protest. “But I want to… I-I’m so close, Ken.” You pulled his hair harder.

Ken suddenly stopped moving his fingers and pulled them out of you. He sat up, licking his fingers clean. His deep, masculine groans as he savored every inch of your taste sent shivers down your spine.

“Screw the cinnamon rolls. This is my dessert.”

He climbed off the bed and removed his pants and the black turtleneck that fit him so perfectly. His boxers strained against his erection. He opened a drawer from the nightstand, pulling out a condom packet. Lowering his boxers, his cock sprang free, leaving you staring in awe.

Calling it a “cock” felt insufficient—it was massive. A rare sight that anyone would only encounter a few times in their life. And lucky you, on a Christmas night you thought you’d spend alone, you’d encountered it. In that moment, you mentally thanked Jesus. Because without him, there would be no Christmas.

Ken tore the condom packet open with his teeth and carefully rolled it onto his length. He must have noticed your wide-eyed stare because he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips for you to focus on him.

“I never have sex without protection, but if you’re uncomfortable—”

“No—no. I don’t take pills, so we can’t take any risks.”

His gorgeous smile returned to his sweaty face. Aligning himself with your entrance, he pushed just the tip inside, making you close your eyes and let out a deep moan.

“Ken…”

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Too tight…” He gripped his length and pushed more inside. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to his body as you adjusted to his size. He hadn’t even fully entered you yet.

Ken began thrusting slowly, letting you get used to his girth. When your back hit the satin sheets again, he hooked your legs around his waist. His face found your neck, his favorite spot, as he groaned softly.

“This—this is exactly what I needed.” His cock slid in and out with increasing depth. “This isn’t just—fuck… Christmas fun, sweetheart. You’re mine now.”

Pulling away from your neck, he straightened up and started moving faster. Your legs stayed wrapped around his waist, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

“Hnngh Ken… F-faster… Please, faster…” You needed more. You wanted all of him.

Ken gripped your legs tighter. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” He suddenly pushed your legs up to your chest and leaned over, slamming his entire length into you.

“KEN—KEN… FUCK… YOU’RE GOING TO BREAK ME!”

“That’s the plan.”

This was more than just sex—it was pure obliteration. His cock was wrecking you, pounding against your G-spot with relentless force. Your legs, trembling from pleasure and strain, would have fallen limp if Ken weren’t holding them.

“Ken… I think I’m—I’m going to come…” you moaned, the waves of pleasure building in your body signaling your release.

“Yeah?” His hands tightened around your thighs. “Then take it. Take every—every inch of me. Come for me, sweetheart…”

“DAMN—I LOVE CHRISTMAS SO MUCH!” you cried out, the explosion of your orgasm rocking through you.

Ken thrust into you a few more times, then slowed his movements. The grip on your legs loosened as he let out a deep, guttural growl and came, filling the condom.

As he released your legs, they dropped to the bed, completely limp. You didn’t have the strength to lift them. Ken braced himself above you, breathing heavily. His eyes were closed, and in that moment, you decided this was the most handsome he’d ever looked.

He pulled out of you and disappeared into the bathroom. You assumed he was disposing of the condom. When he returned, his cock was still hard, and he was stroking it lightly as he walked toward you.

You stared at him in shock. Again? Hadn’t he just come?

The sweet man you’d met that evening now looked serious as he ordered, “Turn around and get on all fours. No condom this time.”

Your eyes widened at his words. You were done. You had no energy left, but you still obeyed, getting into position despite your trembling legs.

As you closed your eyes and prepared to feel his massive size inside you again, one thought crossed your mind: Jesus was probably watching.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been. Did you really want him witnessing these nasty moments?

Happy birthday, Jesus.

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You woke up the next morning with a sharp ache in your hips. You’d known this would happen. After going six rounds in five different positions with that massive cock, it was inevitable.

You tried to lift yourself up but flopped back down. Turning to the other side of the bed, you found no trace of the stranger you’d met the previous night. Pushing the hair out of your face, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath your feet.

As you wondered how you were going to walk, you noticed a glass of water and a few pills on the nightstand. Beside them, a note written in neat, elegant handwriting caught your eye.

“I thought you might need these :)”

“That bastard…” you muttered under your breath. He really knew what he was doing. Sure, he was sweet, but what he’d done to you in bed last night… You’d cried during sex for the first time in your life.

Quickly downing the pills, you got to your feet and started searching for something to wear. Picking your clothes up off the floor was out of the question—you didn’t have the strength. While exploring the room, you found a massive walk-in closet and rejoiced when you spotted an oversized T-shirt.

Everything was neatly folded and smelled just like him. If they sold his cologne, you’d have bought ten bottles without hesitation. Slipping into the plain white T-shirt you found, which reached past your thighs, you decided underwear wasn’t even necessary.

Leaving the bedroom to find Ken, you finally noticed the sheer size of the apartment. How much did architects make? Maybe he was world-renowned. You made a mental note to look him up as soon as you got home.

Descending the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit your nose. You saw him standing in front of the coffee machine, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. His back was to you, his hand holding his phone as he scrolled through something.

He looked like a Christmas morning gift you couldn’t wait to unwrap.

“Good morning…” you said shyly, standing near the entrance of the kitchen.

Ken looked up from his phone, and his eyes hungrily roamed over you. You recognized that look all too well, and God, no, not right now. You were starving, and your legs had barely carried you this far.

“Hey, good morning.” He walked over and kissed you softly before returning to the coffee machine as it finished brewing. “Coffee?” he asked, to which you eagerly replied, “Please.”

The word please had become your most-used word in the past 10 hours, and if you stayed around this man any longer, it would probably dominate the rest of your vocabulary.

Ken handed you a cup of coffee, then started making one for himself. Taking a sip, the warmth of the coffee helped you feel a bit more alive.

“Shit… I forgot to text my parents.” You set your cup down on the counter and went to find your bag. It didn’t take long; it was sitting near the entrance. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you opened your messages to reply to the “Merry Christmas” text your parents had sent you at 7 a.m., which you were now seeing three hours late.

When you returned to the kitchen, Ken was speaking on the phone in what sounded like Danish. You couldn’t understand a word, but no language had ever sounded this sexy before.

You placed your bag on the counter and waited for him to finish while you opened a text from a coworker.

Yuma [20:30]: Hey, I didn’t want to bother you on Christmas Eve, but do you remember that architecture company we’re making the ad for?

Yuma [20:30]: Of course you do. Well, the owner hasn’t been in Japan for a long time, but now he’s here.

Yuma [20:30]: *photo*

Yuma [20:31]: YUMMYYY!!!

Yuma [9:23]: Merry Christmas!! I know you spent the evening alone, but if you want company this morning, teleport to my place!

Yuma [9:50]: Since you haven’t replied, I’m assuming you drank and cried yourself to sleep last night.

You started reading the messages from the bottom up. Just as you were about to reply that your Christmas Eve hadn’t been lonely at all, the attached photo caught your attention—and you froze.

This couldn’t be real.

The man in the photo, looking dashing in a gray suit, was the same man currently standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but sweatpants, speaking on the phone.

You quickly opened Google and typed Nanami Structures. The CEO’s name caught your eye.

Kento Nanami.

Clicking on the name brought up countless photos, articles, and interviews about the man you’d spent the night with.

This was your fault. Why hadn’t you researched the company before the meeting? Then again, this deal had been arranged before you’d joined, so no one had given you the details.

Closing your phone, you set it down next to your bag and took a large sip of the coffee Kento Nanami himself had made for you. The heat burned your tongue, and you winced as your eyes drifted back to his bare back.

The handsome stranger who’d kept you company on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning was the owner of the architecture firm you’d be making an ad for—and probably the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk properly by the time of the meeting.

That day, you truly believed in the Christmas miracles.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

nanami art by @matchapichai on X.

dividers by @mikeykuns @cafekitsune

[elliespeach]

play nice | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"i'm not incompetent, despite what you may think." ´ˎ˗

pairing: ellie x afab reader synopsis: ellie and you hated one another more than anything and you had successfully avoided each other for nearly two years before being forced to patrol together. the day you two endured happened to be a lot more than just patrol and despite hating your guts, ellie is determined to keep you safe. warnings: lowkey mean!ellie, scary men, ellie n reader defend themselves w guns (animal death), lots of swearing, being chased, being stranded in remote location wordcount: 6k+ author note: guysssss i love the fuck out of this trope i hope i did it justice, got a bit carried away w the wordcount but i like it that way cus i dont think this will be a series!

the early morning of the jackson crowd woke you yet again, groggy and hungover you squirmed out of bed. you were supposed to be off today, taking the day to rest and recover from last night but maria had other plans for you. she had asked if you could pick up a patrol shift, a route no one likes taking, for a guy no one really likes anyway. you said yeah because you owe maria a favor, hating yourself for allowing your one day off to be tarnished. 

grumpy, you threw on your usual patrol outfit. a heavy jacket, a sweater underneath, jeans and a trusty pair of boots. the clock read only thirty minutes before you were to be posted and figured you would stop on the way to grab breakfast. 

you gave sleepy hellos to your neighbors as you passed. a lot of them shoveling their sidewalks from the snow that blanketed the earth the night before, they would be doing it all day and suddenly you were that upset about patrol duty. it beats shoveling snow. 

entering the restaurant the smell of bacon and eggs filled your nose, making your stomach lurch in your body. the hangover really settling in, you almost opted to not get food. but you saw maria at the end of the counter, leaning over and chatting with the line cook. 

“mornin’ maria,” you plastered on the best smile you could muster at the moment. “who am i with today? i didn’t check the schedule.” 

maria’s face faltered, “so that’s why you said yes,” you looked at her confused. “you can’t back out on me now.” 

“maria, what’re you talking about?” you questioned, but with the expression on her face, you came to a realization that your day was about to get a whole lot worse. “i’m not going if she is.” 

she sighed your name, “you girls were friendly once, you can’t play nice for one day?” 

“ellie can’t play nice.” you stated as a fact. and it was. 

ellie and you had a complicated history, arriving in jackson only a few days after she did, you two had become an inseparable pair. what wasn’t obvious to everyone else at the time was that you both had feelings for one another despite being young teenagers. 

one day, in her garage, ellie and you had been listening to music together while she drew in her sketchbook. you had been watching her the whole time, admiring how talented she was. at this point in time, you knew she liked you as much as you did her–or at least you thought you did. when you tried to kiss her that day, she freaked out on you and pushed you off her bed in a hurry. 

you had felt betrayed by the only person in jackson you truly trusted with anything. you never spoke of it again, in fact you never really spoke to her again about anything. you two became distant, avoiding each other at all costs because when you were in close proximity you’d fight like cats and dogs. you couldn’t hold in your snide remarks and neither could she, but when she spoke her mind it was always more cruel than you could ever imagine. 

you hated ellie williams and now you are expected to be on a full-day patrol with her. you couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of day you were about to have, regretting any and all decisions that led to this moment. 

“so you play nice. i won’t ask you to work with her again after today, promise.” maria begged and you rolled your eyes accepting her offer. 

you said your goodbyes and maria handed you two sandwiches to go, hoping that a sandwich will fix the multiple years of hatred burning inside of ellie for you. knowing it wouldn’t work but not wanting to waste food, you obliged by taking the food and going on your way. 

your walk was slow to the stables, wanting to prolong the long day ahead of you. when you reached your destination you saw ellie at the end of the barn. she was patting her horse, shimmer, and readying her for the trip. “fuck,” you whispered to yourself before making your way over. 

as you approached her, ellie went stiff and turned her back. not you.

“maria got us these sandwiches,” you said plainly, holding out one of them to her. her eyes were dull, along with her expression and it made your blood boil. “well?” you asked, already impatient with her. 

“ate already.” ellie responded quickly before grabbing the reins on shimmer and leading her out of the barn.

you silently mouthed, “wow.” to yourself before packing the food in your backpack for later. taking your horse from his pen, you lead him in the same direction as ellie. you came upon the gate and mounted your horse before pulling beside ellie, stealing a quick look at her. 

ellie darted her eyes away from you quickly as she saw your head turn towards her, feeling a hatred burning in her chest and she thought she saw you roll your eyes in her peripheral vision. you’d never admit this, barely admitting it to yourself, but despite all the loathing you felt for her you still found yourself attracted to her all these years later. it sucks that she is a bitch, otherwise maybe you two would have been something. 

the usual spiel of being safe, record keeping and more was being announced but ellie’s voice carried its way over to you. “do you even know where we’re going?” 

you scoffed, “i’m not incompetent, despite what you may think.” 

she turned her head towards you, a fake smile splayed across her face. “i don’t think, i know.” 

“oh, fuck you, williams.” you spat at her, looking back towards the gate, not wanting to remember she’s right next to you. 

but she was, in all her rudeness. “don’t you wish,” she said casually in a mocking tone. you had to stop your mouth from dropping open at her comment. she knew exactly what she was saying to you, and it just confirmed that there is no fixing this relationship if she could make a comment that low. 

the alarms went off and the horses started to ride out of jackson. you followed suit, leading your horse out of the gate and turning right down the snow covered path. ellie followed behind you at a distance and you liked it that way. 

ellie was watching you from behind, steering your horse through the pathway. for some reason, she couldn’t pull her eyes off of you the entire trip to the first look-out. her mind plagued her with thoughts of you and she dared not to trespass into that territory again. coming up on the familiar look-out, she pushed the thoughts away and replaced them with the hurtful things you’ve said to her over the years which did little to comfort her either. 

“just wait, i’ll mark the book.” you said, dismounting your horse and heading into the small building. you had always figured it was a radio tower as a giant broken satellite was perched on the roof, slamming open the garage door you made your way inside. 

“i’ll come with, don’t need you fuckin’ up the book.” ellie remarked behind you and you rolled your eyes as she passed you, just having to be the first one to the log book and she was. she beat you to the pen and began writing that there was no infected in the area. 

as ellie finished writing, she searched around the room for you. you were standing by the window, eyes peeking into the binoculars overlooking the route you two were going to be taking. 

“lemme look,” she insisted, reaching up to snatch them from your hand. you pulled it away quickly, swatting her hand. 

“i’m fucking capable of looking through these things.” you nearly yelled. 

“you’re not even wearing your glasses, give it to me.” she growled beside you, again reaching for the binoculars as you held them away from her. 

“how kind of you to notice,” you said sarcastically, gently pushing her away from you. 

“you look better with them on, princess.” she hissed using the nickname she had given you years ago. it felt strange to hear it again, especially in such a negative way. ellie eventually gives up on taking the binoculars from you. you started to peer through them again, making out your path as she huffed beside you. she was acting bored, fake kicking the debris that littered the floor, leaning her back against the window staring into the room behind you. 

looking away from the view for a split second, catching her eyes you retorted, “you look better without them on, figured i’d at least try and have a good day.” a devilish smile washed over your face and ellie didn’t respond. you brought the binoculars back up to your eyes and they widened with fright. 

from your viewpoint you were able to see multiple men all on horseback and guns at their side, they weren’t jackson men as you would have recognized them immediately. they had blood stained clothes and looked like they haven’t showered in weeks. but the most disturbing thing you saw was a person, naked and shaking in the cold tied by their neck to one of the horses, being pulled along. this wasn’t a group to be stumbled upon by and they were right smack in the middle of your route about two miles from you both, getting closer to jackson with every step. “oh, fuck me..” you trailed off and ellie chuckled beside you. 

“like i said, you wis–” 

“ellie, look!” you hissed, shoving the binoculars in her hand but she wouldn’t take them. 

“no, apparently i can’t handle it or something!” she shoved them back in your hands. 

“ellie, would you just look while i radio the other patrols?” you basically begged and ellie heard the fear in your voice. knowing you would never let her see you this way, she sat up straight taking the binoculars from you. she watched as you ran to the table with the log book, getting your radio ready. 

she peered through them and saw what you did and ellie’s demeanor changed swiftly. she turned back to look at you, panicking because the radio wasn’t transmitting. “fuck, this stupid thing!” you yelled, banging it against your hands so hard you thought you might leave a bruise. 

ellie acted fast, throwing the log book into a damaged closet to leave no trace and picking up her backpack. “if we can’t get a signal here, we gotta move to where we can get one. the closest patrol is ten miles in the other direction, we can beat them there, they aren’t going fast.” 

she glanced at you, ready to move and you were frozen still trying to get the radio to work. she rounded on you and stopped yourself from breaking your own hand with the radio. “we have to move, okay? they won’t touch you, i promise.” 

her promise seemed sincere and in the moment you didn’t question it. you nodded your head and took a deep breath before she handed you her bag. you both sprinted to your horses, but not before ellie closed the garage with a loud thud. getting on horseback, ellie led the way, weaving in and out of trees staying off the path so as to not cause suspicion with the tracks in the snow. 

you followed suit, not letting her gain more than a few yards on you at a time. after about ten minutes of what seemed like endless trees you came upon an opening to a road. you didn’t recognize it, and as you came up beside ellie it looked like she didn’t either. you looked around desperately, fearing the men you had seen and what would happen to you both if they found you. 

“nothing on the radio?” she asked you, pulling her horse near you. 

“no, nothing.” you stated shakily, fiddling with the small radio. 

“shit,” she cursed aloud, but not loud enough for anyone else but you to hear. “c’mon, this way.” she led you down the road and as you came over a small hill a building came into the picture, a large building that looked like an old grocery store. 

as you were about to pull the radio from your back pocket, ellie and you both snapped your necks in the direction you had just come from. there was the distant sound of hooves, even in the snow and laughing that wasn’t the good kind. “they found our trail, in the building, now!” she snapped at you quietly and not seeing any other idea, you followed her. leading your horses into an empty window in the building and securing them in a locked office. 

the building was ransacked, absolutely nothing in sight but garbage and dead infected bodies. “if there is dead infected, this area must get patrolled,” ellie thought out loud, looking at the mangled bodies. 

“or they found it before we did,” you did the same, stepping over a dead infected woman. horses neighing outside brought you to a halt and ellie didn’t think twice about grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of view. shuffling past large empty boxes and even more dead infected there was a door labeled exit and ellie busted it open, shoving you inside before her. as she closed the door behind her, she heard glass breaking and men’s voices. 

you looked around in the small hallway, it was dark but you were able to see a small dim light peeking through a knocked over bookcase at the end. “ellie,” you whispered, pointing to the bookcase. quietly moving towards it, you started to lift up the bookcase revealing a large storage room with loading docks. placing the bookcase back down to block the entrance as quiet as you could. 

she nodded her head towards the loading doors, they were closed but not locked. you were about to lift them up for an escape when the exit door burst open and all that stood in between them and you two was the bookcase. you snapped your head in that direction and ellie grasped your arm, pulling you behind a large shipping crate. 

in good timing because as soon as you were secure the bookcase fell over with a loud bang that made you jump. you looked to ellie, who was trying to peek around the crate to catch a look. ellie saw three men stumble into the large room, guns and various other weapons on their belts. “come on out now!” one bellowed, causing you to grab ellie’s arm instinctively and she let you, not pulling it away in the slightest. 

ellie saw them looking around corners when one approached the loading doors, seeing it unlocked. “must’ve slipped out,” the brute snarled, fiddling with the door handle.”grab their horses, let’s go get their trail!” they triumphed, slowly leaving through the door they came in. the rest of their crew must be waiting out front, ellie knew this was your only chance. 

once the cost was clear ellie turned to you, “they’ll expect us to go through the back, let’s go back the way we came.” she whispered, taking her arm back. you nodded and followed her, she quickly moved past the bookcase and towards the door they had left wide open. seeing no one, and not hearing your horses she waved you on, exiting the grocery store through the broken window in which you had entered. 

coming back into the daylight their horse tracks went to the back of the building and you both took this opportunity to run into the trees on the opposite side of the deserted road. as you jumped into the snowy landscape, a horse neighed furiously. “hey! i see ‘em!” a grunty voice shouted and you and ellie took off running through the woods. you were following ellie, who was hoping this was the correct way back. but back where? where could she take you on foot they wouldn’t be able to catch up? the nearest patrol is miles out, but when you two didn’t show up for check in they would come looking. that could be hours before they find you, stumbling through the cold woods and ellie worried that you two wouldn’t make it through the night if you could get away from these guys. 

she pushed all of that away, focusing on the task at hand which was to get you away from them. you ran for a while, the woods came to life with sound, the horses behind you trying to bob and weave through the harsh trees, the heavy breathing of you and ellie crashing into the soft snow below you and the sinister sound of the men laughing as they narrowed down on you two. 

“keep running!” ellie shouted back to you as you passed her, she stopped reaching for her rifle and cocking it back. you didn’t listen, instead taking your pistol out at the same time. ellie was able to shoot down one of the men who had tried to flank them, his body tumbling down to the ground and his blood desecrating the pure white snow. 

focusing your vision as ellie reloaded her gun, you shot quickly. the bullet grazing one of the brutes in the cheek and he clutched his cheek as he barreled down on ellie–whose gun was jammed. you shot again, this time aiming for the horse’s legs and it went down before you could blink, hurdling the giant into a tree. he laid on the ground motionless as his buddies grew more angry, you grabbed ellie’s arm and she looked up to you with panicked eyes, slinging her forward in front of you she began running but not before checking that you were right behind her. 

hoping that the bodies of their friends would slow them down, you both sprinted away from the grizzly scene. ellie was in front of you, the tussle with them discombobulated her and she wasn’t sure what direction she was going in. everything was happening too fast for her to be able to stop and figure it out, and as she looked back to check on you and the proximity of her attackers she saw your eyes widen and as you screamed her name, she fell down an embankment. 

you didn’t think twice, knowing this would be a good barrier between you and your pursuers. ellie was already halfway down as you threw yourself down the steep hill, the trees spun around you and you couldn’t see anything. you could make out ellie as you tumbled, rolling uncontrollably and it seemed even faster than you were. it felt like years before you came to a stop at the bottom of the hill.

you groaned, lifting your head up and not seeing anyone following you. you put all your effort into sitting up and you clutched your side as you did. you cursed, your bag was missing, probably buried in snow somewhere and as you looked around you saw ellie. she was laying next to a tree, limp and moaning in pain. in a panic you tried to stand up but the pain in your side prevented you from moving even two steps so you crawled to her. “ellie!” you shouted, coming to her side. “ellie, are you okay?” you yelled again, shaking her lightly. looking back up the embankment, you didn’t see the men anymore and hoped they went to clean up their friends. 

as your eyes came back to ellie, she rolled over and in between big breaths she was able to get out, “hit.. the fuckin…tree.” she groaned, grasping at her limp arm. “fuck..my arm!” 

“c’mon, williams we gotta go,” you stated, looking around for her backpack since yours was nowhere in sight. you noticed it a few feet away and you used the tree to force yourself up, ellie saw you struggling and tried to get up on her own so you wouldn’t have to help her in your condition. taking her pack and slinging it on your shoulders you went back to her, she was leaning against the tree now, facing the embankment. 

you reached out your hand to her and you couldn’t read her face as she took it with her good arm, pulling herself up with a huff. your side screamed in pain as you trudged on, taking in short breaths even though you could barely breathe to begin with. ellie limped behind you, her limp arm at her side and every step she winced in pain. fully realizing you two were lost in the woods, you kept going in hopes of seeing jackson at some point. 

the men didn’t make any appearances and the further you walked the more you felt safe. the fresh snowfall that started was covering your tracks in the deep snow. walking in silence felt like the right thing to do, the adrenaline wearing off would mean bickering again and you liked the quiet sounds of the forest, and the occasional grunt from ellie behind you. the sun was nearly behind the mountains before ellie spotted a small hunting cabin to the left of your makeshift path. 

it was dainty, and probably only one room but as you both approached it, it was looking more and more inviting than the harshness of the cold you two had been enduring the last couple of hours. knocking on the door roughly and not hearing anything inside, you opened the wooden front door. it was small. the abandoned shelter was illuminated by the setting sun through the windows, you saw a fireplace that had more spider-webs than you’d ever seen. the “kitchen” immediately next to it consisted of a broken and ransacked fridge, a sink and only two cabinets. 

you smacked ellie’s pack down on the counter, and finally felt a smidge of peace. looking up and noticing there was no living room area in the single room, just a creaky wooden bed that ellie had sat down on still clutching her arm. you looked around and saw a wooden chair, smashed to pieces you shuffled over, taking as many as you could carry before tossing them into the empty fireplace. ellie watched as you did, wishing she could be more help but her arm was killing her and she worried it was more than just a break. 

she saw you wince as you bent down to pick up more wood and she had to look away, not being able to see you hurt for some reason. “we should splint your arm,” you suggested, tossing more wood into the fireplace but keeping a smaller, thicker stick in your hands. ellie just nodded and let you approach her and as you went to unzip her jacket she flinched back. “i can’t do it with your jacket on.” you snapped, your shitty mood pouring out onto her. 

she softened her face and unzipped her own jacket but needed your help taking it off completely. as you were slowly pulling it off her bad arm, she sighed deeply. her arm was revealed, having only worn a short sleeve under her jacket and you wondered how she wasn’t frozen solid by now. “jesus, els.” you breathed out as you looked upon her arm. it was black and blue all over, some spots were a bright yellow and you held back from gagging. the redness from being cold didn’t help make it look better either. 

“i’m fine,” she lied, not liking you taking care of her. “just make the fire first, would you?” 

not surprised with her attitude, you obliged because you were even still freezing. the sun was barely shining in the windows anymore and you knelt beside the wood and picked a few of the smaller pieces of wood. taking your knife, you whittled off sections, leaving them attached at the bottom to the main piece of wood to work as tinder. and as you worked, ellie watched. she admired your survival skills, remembering that this is what kept you alive before jackson. 

ellie and you knew more about each other than you’d ever admit. being as close as you two were for months, you often had long talks in her garage to distract yourselves from the mutual lingering feeling of longing for one another. but as she observed you working, she remained silent and you did too, feeling her eyes burning into your back. 

the fire bursted to life with flames and you backed away, feeding it more kindling from the broken chair. ellie felt the warmth from the bed and now that she wasn’t numb from being cold, her arm was feeling worse. she didn’t dare look down at it, you turned to see her struggling to find comfort. you took off your jacket, the cozy cabin becoming warmer with every second that passed. tearing at the bottom of your shirt got her attention, you ripped until you had a long enough strip to work with. 

taking the wooden piece that you are using as a splint you kneeled in front of her. “give me your arm,” you said, your hand hovering in front of her. she shuffled her body forward, inches from you and you gently stretched her arm out straight. her moans in pain were loud over the crackling fire, “i know, i know,” you comforted her and her groans stopped but were replaced with quick and short breaths. 

you aligned the wood with her arm, taking your ripped shirt fabric and started to wrap it around her arm. moans escaped her mouth, not being able to conceal how badly this hurt. “almost done…” you trailed as you tied a knot in the fabric to keep it in place. 

once you were finished, and ellie was about as bandaged up as she could be, you sat with your back against the bed. wincing as you did, your side still burning in pain that seemed to spread throughout your body. “lemme see,” ellie murmured, shifting off of the bed to sit next to you on the floor. you grumbled a small i’m fine like she had but she didn’t accept it. “let me see.” she said more sternly. 

you rolled your eyes, lifting up the side of your shirt where the pain is erupting from. she examined it, the bruising on your stomach was prominent and she grazed her fingers over your hot skin. you winced from her touch, her fingers cold on the burning black and blue. “told you, i’m fine.” you reinforced, pulling your shirt back down. 

“i promised you they wouldn’t touch you,” she whispered beside you, you heard the familiar aggression in her voice as it’s usually directed at you but this time it didn’t feel like it was. 

“they technically didn’t.” you recalled, staring into the fire. but ellie was gazing at you, her green eyes scanning the side of your blank face. 

“i should’ve seen the hill,” she shook her head, focusing her eyes on the fire like you were. “i told you they wouldn’t hurt you and now look. i swear to god if they ever show their face around jackson i’ll–” her voice turned sour and she stopped herself from revealing what she would do to them for causing you pain, and although you didn’t blame her for anything that happened today, you couldn’t help but feel angry with her and her sudden caring attitude. 

scoffing, you spoke, “i’ve been hurt worse than this.” ellie understood what you were implying and snapped her head back to you, hurt swimming in her eyes. 

“what is that supposed to mean?” she hissed back at you, her voice rising slightly. she knew exactly what it meant but couldn’t stop herself from getting defensive. 

you laughed in disbelief, “the way you’ve been treating me for years? does that not ring a fuckin’ bell?” your voice rising to meet hers. 

“you’ve been doing the same thing to me, so don’t act innocent.” her tone was sharp but calm and you hated her for her ability to keep her composure. 

“i never said i was innocent!” your blood boiling over, you looked at her, her eyes meeting yours before she darted them away. “if you hate me, hate me. don’t confuse me by acting like you fuckin’ care.” 

“i don’t fuckin’ care,” she spat, using her good arm to lift herself off of the ground. she did care. and it was obvious to you, but instead of arguing about it further you let her walk to the kitchen as she dug in her pack.

you remained silent in front of the fire and despite the pain you brought your knees to your chest for extra warmth, the cold disposition of your patrol partner sucking out any warmth the fire was giving to you. ellie tossed over a small ration pack of food harshly, and you reached to take it. not caring that she threw it at you because now that you were looking at it, you were starving. realizing you hadn’t eaten this morning like you intended to. 

ellie moved back near the fire, sitting in front of you but staring into the wall. it was quiet while you both ate, or better inhaled the food in front of you. “i was supposed to have the day off today,” you remarked, chuckling at the circumstances though not finding it entirely funny. “i shoulda just told maria to fuck off.” 

ellie turned to you looking confused. “wait, maria asked you to do this?” you nodded in response and she shook her head smirking, “she asked me last night if i could cover for–” 

“manny,” you both said at the same time. realizing maria had set you both up, and you both couldn’t help but not laugh about it. 

“she’s gonna feel so bad!” you laughed, and somehow it was the funniest thing in the world to the both of you in that moment. ellie was laughing harder than you had ever seen her and you realized how deeply you missed this side of her, and how long it had been since you did. was it shock? maybe, probably. but even ellie couldn’t help but enjoy the small moment after the day you two had. 

“she probably thinks we killed each other!” ellie added mid laughing, causing you two to remain that way for a little while longer. it really wasn’t funny, but in some fucked up way it was. after you both calmed down from the singular good moment you had had in years, ellie added, “i missed that.” 

“missed what?” you questioned, not wanting the moment to end. 

“your laugh,” she uttered, boring her green eyes into yours. “i know that’s not fair of me to say.” 

this was the ellie you remembered, before all the fighting she was always kind to you. she was thoughtful. and she cared about you more than anyone you met in jackson. she patiently waited for your response, trying to judge if you were still angry. “i think we’ve both said things to each other we shouldn’t have, els.”  she hid a smile at your response, forcing her eyes to the fire that illuminated the small room. after a small beat of comfortable silence, she turned back to you.

“i really am sorry,” she spoke again and you cut her off before she could continue. 

“it’s okay, really–” 

“no i mean– i shouldn’t have– we almost died today. you almost died and i just…” she trailed off, gathering her thoughts. “i wanted to kiss you that day too.” 

you looked at her perplexed, and as you opened your mouth to respond she talked again. “it’s complicated and i was just scared–” 

“scared of what, ellie?” you questioned her again. 

she lifted up her good arm, revealing her tattoo. bringing your eyes back to hers and she took note of your confusion. she shuffled over and sat beside you showing you her arm up close. “just look,” 

at first, all you noticed was the tattoo. the ink perfectly etched into her skin, but as you really looked at it you noticed small indents buried in an intricate part of the linework. you took her arm in your hands to examine it further. bite marks. they were old, but they were there beneath the tattoo, permanently altering her skin with a nasty scar. “what the fuck…” you whispered skeptically, tracing it over with your fingers. 

“i was fourteen, so don’t worry i think i would have been dead by now.” she joked, hoping to alleviate any negative feelings you had about this. she sat nervously next to you and if you weren’t holding her arm she feared she would be shaking. 

“what does this have to do with me?” you asked innocently, taking your eyes away from her arm but not letting go. 

“i thought if we had kissed that i’d infect you somehow,” she laughed thinking of the memory. “i really shoved you off the bed hard, huh?” 

“my ass was bruised for weeks, so yeah you did.” you laughed with her back and it felt like the last couple of years hadn’t happened. 

“awww, poor princess,” she mocked you playfully. it almost threw you off, being as she hasn’t been playful in forever but you rejoiced in it. 

“shut up!” you played back, throwing her arm out of your hands and back into her lap. ellie noticed how close you two were, closer than when you splinted her arm, and it made her feel safe. she brought her hand back up to your face slowly and you let her, she swept strands of hair behind your ear. “you’re not scared now, though?” you pressed on, catching onto her intentions. 

“oh, i’m terrified.” ellie spoke softly, inches from your face. she cupped your cheek in her hand and gazed at you lovingly, her eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. she felt her stomach doing flips as she leaned in to close the final stretch that separated you two, as she did, hard knocks pounding at the door pulled you apart from each other. 

the door opened, revealing a disheveled joel and tommy. “thank god!” joel exclaimed, entering the cabin. “we saw the smoke, you guys are five miles off the normal route. what the hell happened?”

they helped you both home and to see the medics and it was nearly a day later when you saw ellie again. you endured what felt like thousands of visits from friends and neighbors that wanted to wish you a good recovery, and they were sorry to hear what happened. you were put on bed rest for a few broken ribs and they all hurt severely anytime you moved. 

but when ellie came through your bedroom door, you shot up in bed ignoring the pain that was plaguing you. she filled you in on what’s been going on, rangers are out looking for the group of men that attacked you both and they think they have a good lead on the group. this comforted you, but not nearly as much as ellie’s presence. she had a fresh cast on her arm, and ellie pointed out that it was really itchy, making you laugh. 

“maria feels really bad,” she smirked, a small laugh escaping her lips. “but she’s gloating about her plan working.” 

“course she is,” you answered. she moved across your room and sat down on the side of your bed to face you, looking down to your hands and took them in hers. “we might have to put on a show for her, can’t have her head gettin’ too big.” 

“anything you wanna do princess,” she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “but first, rest.” 

you groaned, “i hate you.” 

“i hate you more, now c’mon lay down.” she gently pushed you back down into the bed and you scooted over leaving room for her. she snuggled up next to you as you laid your head on her chest, hearing her soothing heartbeat as she played with your hair and you both fell asleep peacefully. feeling nothing but safe with one another. 

[idlerin]

love sick — profiles: ppl who think love sucks + [name]

masterlist — inarizaki dogs | episode one

[name] has been invested in finding “the one” ever since she was little. this was mostly influenced by her parents who were so deeply in love that taught her to seek the kind of love she deserved to have. it became worse when she was 12 and was exposed to the world of romance books, you could say she loved love.

[name] has a sort of “love guru” business going on, except she’s unpaid. it all started during first year, where she helped a guy from her media literacy class named akaashi keiji confess to his long-time crush who was their senior, bokuto koutaro. the confession went well and they ended up dating, bokuto teased his friend to get advice from you and in his words “maybe your crush would like you back” (the response of said friend was “don’t call it a crush, what are we, highschoolers?”).

[name] did end up giving good advice and bokuto’s friend eventually started dating the “crush”. a rumor started spreading that [name] was real-life cupid and a bunch of people started reaching out to her to ask for help. it became such a big deal that [name] ended up creating an email for them to send their love-related concerns (in it, she mentions that to keep in mind her acads come first!).

the mini “business” ended up being a hit and she developed many nicknames in the process, like “resident cupid” and “campus sweetheart”.

[name] is a 2nd year student along with atsumu while kiyoko and semi are 3rd years and kageyama is a 1st year.

[name], kiyoko, and semi are childhood friends (but kiyoko and semi are older than [name] by a year), they lived on the same street, so they’ve practically known each other forever. they all went to the same junior high but split up in senior high school, kiyoko went to karasuno while [name] and semi went to shiratorizawa. this meant it was harder for them to meet kiyoko constantly, [name] and semi had to dorm within campus because they lived a bit far from the school itself.

[name] met kageyama when she went to one of the volleyball tournaments and kiyoko introduced them to each other. they instantly hit it off ([name] found him adorable and so “little brother coded”) because of [name] being so talkative (kageyama kept thinking how she acted so much like hinata).

[name] and atsumu became friends the summer before the start of the first semester, while [name] was moving in to her new dorm. it was very much a meet ugly because atsumu accidentally splashed his drink on [name]’s brand new sweater (and his first reaction was to flirt with her), [name] responds by saying it was alright and ignored his attempts. atsumu became curious and not long after they realized they were assigned to the same hall! (you have no escape now).

atsumu soon realizes the two of you had too similar personalities and became partners in crime. then you soon figure out your lives were more interconnected than you thought (he knew kageyama). you don’t know since when has your life been surrounded by volleyball (you were always the most unathletic person in the room).

it was only until all of your worlds collide one saturday morning where you accidentally make plans with all of them all at once (you were out of it because you stayed up late responding to love advice emails) that they all became friends too (semi and atsumu instantly hit it off, kiyoko is civil with everyone, kageyama was still in miyagi).

you, you were just happy everything in your life was falling into place just the way you like it!

until of course, suna rintarou came into the picture. none other than atsumu’s friend you don’t acknowledge and the name constantly found in the emails you receive.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — belated happy valentines everyone! (still valentines for some people tho i think) i hope you guys has a nice day :)

taglist is OPEN ! + @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @erenjvegerrr @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @skomiomi @tenaciouswritersheep @i-am-l0ved

to those i can not tag, kindly change your mentions settings thank you!

note: this is not the whole taglist, it’s been a year since i posted the masterlist to love sick and there may be people who don’t want to be in it anymore so i’ve only tagged those who confirmed they still want to be in the taglist through this post by liking or commenting as i don’t want to bother people! hehe

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 06)

Johnny texts you while he's deployed, but when he calls you one night, you are forced to face your consequences.

MDNI/18+

Link to AO3

OCTOBER, MONDAY MORNING, TWO WEEKS LATER

Your apartment was bathed in the cold gray light of a foggy morning, and you curled your duvet closer around you trying to stave off the dawn’s chill. You’d been awake for a while, which was very uncharacteristic of you. Usually more of a late riser, the only reason for your early bird behavior was Johnny MacTavish. 

He was three hours ahead of you, and every morning, when the sun came up in the Urzikstani hillside, you were sent an image of Johnny’s hand, clutching whatever his breakfast was that day. Sometimes it was a tin cup of black coffee, other times you’d get a banana or a protein bar. But, it was always his giant hand and a sherbet orange sky. This morning, it was cloudy and dark, and his breakfast of choice was a slab of toast, smeared with butter and jam. 

MoChroi: sunrise_sand.jpg

You: wow. quite the delicacy today. cant believe you found actual jam out there

Mo Chroi: bit suspicious. when the food gets better the missions get worse

You: uh oh

Mo Chroi: dinnae fash thief xx

Mo Chroi: writing today?

You: yep. and meeting with my prof

Mo Chroi: what ya got on then

Mo Chroi: give us a show bonnie

Mo Chroi: is it naughty?? lol

You: nope

You: rangers_tee.jpg

You sent a photo of your torso, cutting out your head, wearing his own tee shirt. His typing bubbles percolated along the bottom of the screen immediately. Then, an indignant response:

Mo Chroi: thief!! xx

You: youre the one who stole my hair tie

Mo Chroi: hairtie.jpg

Mo Chroi: needed a hostage

Mo Chroi: your bad habits are rubbin off. stole cap’s clothes out of the shower this morning

Mo Chroi: price_hat.jpg

You: you learn quick mo chroi

His typing bubbles appeared, and then they disappeared. You watched them pop up in the chat and then vanish three more times until finally all you got was silence. This was a common occurrence, so you tried not to overthink it. Over the past two weeks of texting with him, you knew he disappeared sometimes. He’d get a call to go into the field, or there would be some crisis. You wondered if his captain had discovered his prank. 

The room was still cold, and you were reluctant to leave your cocoon of warmth, but you needed to write. You had promised yourself that you’d go into the office early today before your meeting with your major professor. After a deep sigh and some very challenging mental gymnastics, you stuck a leg out and onto the frigid concrete floor.

Your apartment was very modern. So modern, in fact, that it had been a challenge to make it feel homey. There was very little room inside for anything more than a queen bed, a short futon, and your desk. Your bathroom was sleek and full of brutalist, functional, concrete stylings, but the kitchen was barely big enough for a sink and a toaster oven. You had kept the futon for guests, not that you had many (any) visitors, but aside from the stacks of books in the corners of each room, your entire studio was practical to a fault. 

But, it was enough for you and your rescue cat, Marlowe, so you didn’t complain.

On the wall opposite the front door, a huge plexiglass window overlooked the River Kelvin, conveniently situated right across from some student housing so you could access the bus. Not having a car went against your Floridian roots, but you’d fallen in love with the ease of public transportation. 

After throwing on an oversized sweater and a pair of fleece-lined leggings, you slipped on your wellies and headed to the bus stop. You’d brought a big thermos of coffee, ready to face the day. 

Your phone buzzed again.

Pidge: I’m so excited to see you this weekend!! :D

You: me too! is hammie picking me up after all or no

Pidge: Yes, I told him to be at the platform at 4.

You: cool 

Pidge: Have you spoken with my brother?

You paused for a moment, riding the elevator and staring at your phone. You didn’t want to lie to her, but you probably shouldn’t tell her the truth. The truth was that you’d been texting her brother every day since he left for leave. You went with a half-truth instead:

You: yeah a few times why

She did not respond. You waited for the other shoe to drop like a blindfolded prisoner waits for their firing squad. The bus came to your stop, and you climbed on, sitting on the carpeted seat closest to the door, knowing your stop was only three away. 

When you got to your office, your phone buzzed again. You set your bag and your coffee down before you even looked at it, avoiding touching your cell as if it had thorns. 

You flipped over the screen.

Mo Chroi: make it to the office?

You: office.jpg

Mo Chroi: have a good day today thief

Mo Chroi: helicopter1.jpg

Mo Chroi: going on a wee trip. afk xx

You: promise xx

Mo Chroi: promise xx

Promise. Promise. It was you and Johnny’s little code. You hadn’t liked hearing about his “little trips” in the beginning, especially after he had shown you a photo of his truck, riddled with bullet holes. You used to say “good luck”, but you didn’t like that sound of that. You hoped luck had nothing to do with it. So, you just asked him to promise to text you back or to promise to be safe. And he always replied that he promised he would. Now, it had shortened to your one-word ritual. You always said it and he always said it back. 

Another buzz:

Pidge: No reason. He has my phone charge the little nugget.

You: omg lol 

You were not laughing out loud. If anything, you were sighing in relief. 

It took most of the morning, but you fell into a routine. You had your meeting, came back, and wrote some more. Lunch was a pre-packaged lunch box from the student center and a refill on your coffee. You missed dinner. The sun set on you as you finished a critical section of your thesis, looking it over for flow and mistakes. 

Worn out, and finally feeling hungry again, you checked your phone on your way back to the bus stop. No new messages. You waited for the bus, flipping through his photos again as if you would have forgotten them from when you looked at them from last night. Or the night before last. 

You stopped looking at them, challenging yourself to have a non-Johnny thought in your head for once.

Maybe you would make a ramen with eggs in it tonight. 

Maybe he’ll text you back. 

You could watch another episode of that K-drama you liked. 

Maybe he’ll send you a picture of him shirtless.

You could go for a run.

Maybe he will run his tongue back over your —

The bus came. You blocked out your thoughts from your mind, desperate to regain some semblance of control. 

THURSDAY NIGHT

It had been three days, and you still hadn’t heard from him. You tried not to think about all of the terrible reasons why that might be the case. But, you did. You thought about them all the time. Every time you checked your phone or read an email or scrolled through your feeds; it was the only thing you thought about. 

You had his shirt on again, eating leftover Chinese on your futon. You were thinking about all of the things you needed to take care of before tomorrow. It was Pidge’s bridal shower weekend and you were trying to wrangle all the final touches together. You’d rented out Ettrick’s, at Pidge’s request, and you had sent the invites two weeks ago. Almost everyone had RSVP’d yes, so you were looking at nearly 45 people to host. The custom bridal cookies were set for pick up when Hamish took you into town tomorrow afternoon, and the champagne was paid for. And you were dreading it. 

You were excited to be there for Brigette. She had always been there for you. When you first moved to Scotland, you were well and truly alone. But, she met you for lunch almost every day after class, claiming to need her caffeine fix. But, as time went on, you realized she wanted to be friends. Having no one and being in a new country was so tough, but she had made it feel so easy. So, even though you hated the prim and proper social situation of a shower, you resolved to tough it out. 

You put the half-eaten Chinese back in the fridge and climbed into bed. Your phone buzzed as you went to put it on the charger.

Mo Chroi: you up?

Your heart stopped for a moment, making your breath hitch in your chest. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to open his message.

Mo Chroi: camels.jpg

You: omg! are those REAL

You: shes not a camel but ill trade you one critter pic for a Marlowe pic

You: marlowethecat.jpg

Mo Chroi: her cheeks are brilliant lol so big

You: so your mission went okay?

Mo Chroi: lol yeah. and we got the guy who owned the camels to take a cool pic of us. can you tell which one’s me?

Mo Chroi: group_pic.jpg

You: gotta be number 3

Mo Chroi: how’d you know

You: your wide shoulders. and you always stand like that

Mo Chroi: like my shoulders do you

You: yep 

You: you should send me a selfie

There was a long pause. You were a little afraid that you’d overstepped a boundary. Sure, his long, hungry tongue had been buried between your legs three weeks ago, eating you like he was starving, but people were cagey about their online privacy. You backtracked:

You: if you want to. nbd if not

Mo Chroi: selfie.jpg

You checked the image, and your heart sank like a stone. Johnny wore a green and yellow bruise over his eye, and his head had been shaved.

You: you okay? bruise looks nasty

Mo Chroi: you should see the other lad

You: and they shaved you?

Mo Chroi: got a nasty wee cut on the back of my head and doc sheared me like a damn sheep

He sent you a series of frowny faces and sheep emojis, and you felt a wave of calm settle in your chest. The latent fear was still there, and would be until you saw him again, but it was good to know he was alright. 

FRIDAY MORNING

You were back on the bus, toting around your overnight bag, planning on heading to the train straight after your colloquium lecture this afternoon. Your phone had been beeping at you all morning. Johnny was begging for you to record your talk, asking you to let him sit in on your “class”. 

You: johnny its not a class! its just a lecture. we have to give them every now and then to show what we’ve been doing with our research. its not fun. you’d be bored.

Mo Chroi: meirleach! i dinnae care how fun it is. let me see!!

You: campus.jpg

You: look. its all stuffy and campusy. you wouldnt like it

Mo Chroi: youre breaking my heart lass xx

You smiled. He was so bright, and he made you feel like you were so very special. It was no wonder he was such a danger to single women everywhere. Your confidence was soaring.

When you made it to your office, you sent him another picture of your current work. You were writing a short paper on German poems, not really related to your thesis, for a conference coming up in the spring.

You: look. you dont even speak german! it would be like torture

You: german_poem.jpg   

Mo Chroi: so cool. im beggin you. let me watch you. i won’t say a word. 

You: maybe if you come back a little early from leave next time, you can sneak into one

Mo Chroi: if i survive this training, i will. 

Mo Chroi: thinking about seeing you up there teaching. got me all turned on

You sent him an emoji with a shocked look on its face, feigning coy shyness. He was relentless.

Mo Chroi: think youd let me be teachers pet?

You: more like class clown

Mo Chroi: you did seem fond of all of my tricks. wanna see what else i can do?

You: lecture_hall.jpg

You: i have to prep for this talk. keep your naughty thoughts to yourself soldier

Mo Chroi: yes maam 

Mo Chroi: wait!

You: what

Mo Chroi: before you go. what color knickers are you in

Mo Chroi: just trying to imagine your lecture 

Mo Chroi: with accuracy

Mo Chroi: cmon lass. for extra credit

You smiled down at your phone again, knowing your answer was going to win this little back and forth game he was playing.

You: im not wearing any this morning. gonna do my washing at your place.

Mo Chroi: jesus mary and joseph

You: and all the saints?

Mo Chroi: every one of them xx

Your lecture went off without a hitch. You earned yourself a few crowd questions and a round of polite applause. Stopping back by your office on the way out, you grabbed your laptop and headed for the bus stop. You’d forgotten your phone was on silent, and it wasn’t until you made it to the train station that you realized it. Two missed calls from Pidge and three texts from her brother.

You checked the texts as you returned her call, unable to hold yourself back from seeing what he wrote to you.

She answered quickly,

“Hey! Are you on your way?”

“Yep,” you replied, “I’ll be there around three forty-five, I think.”

“Okay, perfect. I just wanted to tell you that we’re adding two more to the list. Anjali invited Steph and Tiff. Is that alright, babes?”

You tried not to groan directly into the mouthpiece,

“Yes! The more the merrier.”

What were you going to do about the seating chart? You’d figure it out later. 

“Fantastic! You’re amazing, hen. You know that?”

“Anything for you, bestie.”

She kissed you over the phone and hung up. You let out that sigh you’d been holding. As much as you loved her, you were ready for your friend’s wedding to be over with..

You checked the messages from Johnny, looking to escape from your thoughts again. He was the perfect distraction.

Mo Chroi: oh fuck no

Mo Chroi: its dog day for training

Mo Chroi: army_dog.jpg

You: you dont like dogs?

Mo Chroi: not these

Mo Chroi: had a bad time with attack dogs in russia a few tours back

The train arrived and you got settled. You weren’t sure how to respond. It was back again, that funny feeling in your chest about him being in constant danger. You didn’t know how to handle it. It wasn’t like you could ask him to stop. That was his job, and he was one of the best. He’d been enlisted on this elite task force, and even though you barely understood what that meant, you knew it was special. What right did you have to stand in the way of his greatness? The world needed Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, and you were just a distraction. 

You waited for him to text again, a distraction for you and you for him. A two-way street. That’s all it was, right? How could it be anything more? 

You thought about his sister. She’d been so painfully clear about her boundaries. You imagined telling her you liked him, telling her you wanted to date him. She’d explode. There’d be Scottish yelling, and Scottish fighting, and Scottish siblings rowing at each other all over the house. You couldn’t do that to her, especially not now. So, you just went back to distracting him.

You: did you get bitten?

Mo Chroi: yeah, right on the belly. those bastards. can you see it 

Mo Chroi: shirtless.jpg

You gasped audibly, hoping no one had heard you on the train. You’d already seen him naked, but having a picture of his bare, muscled torso on your phone was another thing entirely. You glanced around, checking behind you and clutching your screen to your chest, holding it to you shamefully, praying no one saw it. 

You typed a message, then deleted it. You tried again, and then deleted it. You knew he could see your text bubbles popping up, and it embarrassed you to no end. Eventually, you decided to just be honest.

You: youre so damn hot

The wait was going to kill you. Seconds became minutes, which became hours, which became eons. You stared at the bottom of your message like it would disappear if you looked away. You opened the picture of his bare torso again, unable to stop yourself from indulging in his huge body. You knew how those muscles felt, and you wanted to feel them again.

He didn’t respond. Your heart sank like a rock. You felt the train screech to a halt at the station, and it took everything in you to pocket your phone and leave the car.

You marched down to meet Hamish, trying to control the look on your face. 

“Hey! Over here!” he called to you from the carpark.

You saw his smiling face and tried to match his energy,

“Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“You bet,” he said as he took your bags. 

“Can we stop by the bakery around the corner? They’ve got all the cookies and pastries we ordered for tomorrow.”

“Of course, lass. No problem. Hop in.”

Hamish drove you around, the perfect gentleman, carrying box after box of dessert for his fiance’s shower, storing them carefully in the boot of the car. 

“Wow, these smell incredible, don’t they,” he crooned, “Wish I could crash your wee party.”

“No boys allowed,” you said wryly, smiling at him, eliciting a genuine laugh.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence. He talked a little about his research, and you shared a bit about yours, mentioning your latest lecture. Otherwise, you checked your phone constantly. 

Then, just as you pulled into the driveway of the MacTavish house, you got a text.

Unknown: Hello this is Captain John Price. Sergeant MacTavish’s phone is dead, and he is making me text you the word: promise. 

You: oh thank you. can you tell him promise back?

Captain: Roger

Your stomach twisted for a different reason now. He wasn’t upset with you, which was a relief, but he had just shipped out on another mission. It was so sudden, it seemed like an emergency. You saved the captain’s number in your phone, just in case. 

After hugging Pidge and helping Hamish with the boxes, you unpacked your bags and started the laundry. You met Pidge in the living room, watching her put the finishing touches on some gift bags.

“These are cute,” you commented, feeling the soft ripple of the ribbons tied around the bags in your fingers. 

“Thanks,” she said as she fixed one of the bows, “Hope I made enough.” 

“They’ll live,” you smiled. 

“Hey, did you hear from Johnny again?”

“Uh…no, why?” You panicked.

“He said he doesn’t have my charger but now that muppet is not answerin’ me. Gonna pop him when he’s down for Christmas, I swear.”

“He’s coming back for the holidays?” You asked, a little too enthusiastically. 

Pidge cut her eyes up at you briefly, responding in a measured voice,

“Yeah, just a week. Why?”

You wracked your brain for a reason, pretending to look at the calendar on your phone. Finally, you said,

“Think he’d drive me up from Glasgow? The train is awful at Christmas.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “God, he’s so irresponsible, babes. Not sure I trust him to get you here on time. But, I’ll threaten him. He’ll do it for me. He’s been so accommodating lately. Johnny boy is like a new man.”

“Oh, really?” You weren’t sure where this conversation was going, but you pried anyway.

“Did you know he paid for the rehearsal dinner? The whole damn thing! Having it at the wee distillery and everything. Right proper party we’ll be havin’. Cannae believe it.”

The Auchentoshan Distillery was Old Kilpatrick’s pride and joy. He’d spent a pretty penny if he’d booked it out for her.

“He loves you,” you confessed softly.  

“He tries to,” she said a little bitterly.

You watched her pack up the bags, and you began to wonder about their relationship with each other. It was clear to you that there was some immovable object that was being pressed upon by some unstoppable force. They were at a quiet, bubbling impasse, ready to boil over at any moment. Yes, they loved each other. But, Johnny and Pidge had diverged somewhere, and it was a rift that needed to be mended. 

The washer buzzed. You went to move over the clothes. 

“I’m heading over to grab the girls. Wanna come?” Pidge asked you, her keys in hand. 

“No room,” you observed, realizing they wouldn’t all fit in the car.

“Ugh, guess you’re right, hen. No worry, we’ll be right back. I’m excited to have a girls’ night.”

“Me, too,” you lied. 

Well, it was a half-lie. You didn’t mind a girls’ night. It was more the fact that you’d have to hide your phone from view as you waited for Johnny to report he was back safe and sound. 

After Pidge left, you crawled into his sheets. The memories of you and your soldier came flooding back again, but this time they swirled together with all of the complexities that you were facing. The simplicity of that brief night you shared had become warped by reality, and you realized you needed to come to terms with your emotions before you got hurt. 

FRIDAY EVENING

Your phone buzzed in your hand, waking you. It was warm from being on the charger and covered up by your body. You hoped that didn’t break anything. Sleep had taken you over like a surging wave. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from your week. 

Unknown: heyyyyy this is soaps mate kyle. he wanted to let you know we’re back. 

You: thanks for letting me know

Kyle: you bet

You were kicking yourself. You should have asked if he was okay. Just when you were about to ask Kyle to check on him, you heard the keys jingle in the door. Swinging your feet to the wooden floor, you got out of bed and met the gaggle of ladies in the foyer.

Cheek kisses, bright hellos and how-are-yous filled the once-quiet house, and you pocketed your phone, trying to distance yourself from the pang of concern. 

You tried to keep up with the fast-paced conversation, but you weren’t the social butterfly that Pidge was. Anjali, Bekah, and Cherise were all gushing about their own lives, and you had very little to share. They were polite enough, asking you about your studies and pretending to care when you answered them.

“Oh, cool,” Cherise said, sipping on wine out of one of Pidge’s nicer glasses, “Poems are cool.”

“Yeah, I was Juliet in that one play,” Bekah said, proudly. 

“And she’ll never let us forget it either,” Anjali rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.

They were quick to forget you again, turning back to their recent Tinder date disasters and successes. 

“And this bloke - the one with the beard thing - he ask me and this other girl to the same restaurant, on the same night! I thought she was gonna kill him right there in front of the maître de!” Anjali lamented.

Cherise smiled like a Cheshire cat, 

“Lachlan is taking me on his boat next weekend.”

“We know! Shut up about the boat, you slag,” Bekah clipped. 

Cherise shot back quickly, 

“You’re just mad ‘cause Soap hasn’t texted you today.”

You gave the girls your full attention now. You darted your eyes to Pidge who rolled them, but looked otherwise unbothered. Bekah turned her phone around and you saw the image she was eager to display,

“He’s on bloody thin ice. I asked for a pic of him in his uniform, and all he sent me was a picture of some nasty sand!”

Your chest clenched tight enough that you couldnt breathe. It was your picture. Your morning photo from a few days ago. He was holding his breakfast, outstretched, and you could even see your hair tie on his wrist, the rolling dunes of the desert stretching out before him into infinity. 

“Men, am I right?” Anjali finished her wine. 

Maybe she was right. 

SATURDAY MORNING

You’d slept beside Anjali that night, sharing the bed willingly but not enthusiastically. She had snored through most of it, and you’d barely gotten any sleep. It wasn’t just her snoring that kept you up. In fact, you were using her as a scapegoat. You had been thinking about Johnny. 

It was like you were having a war in your mind. On one hand, it was just a picture of some sand, but on the other, you had no idea how many texts they had shared before or after that. Your heart broke easily, shattering melodramatically, whining about how you weren’t special and that if you didnt control yourself, you’d be sorry for it. He was just a playboy, just like everyone said.

Your brain, however, begged you to see reason. He sent her a picture of sand, not his naked torso, and he had forced his teammates to text you your passcode when he went on his mission. Surely that was enough proof that he cared about you and not Bekah.

It wasn’t enough, said the heart. 

It has to be enough, said the head. 

It shouldn’t even be happening, said the soul. 

You watched the sun peek through the blinds just as they had when you’d been wrapped in Johnny’s arms, naked and warm against his pink skin. 

You sighed and got up to shower. 

The party was at two, so you had plenty of time. You made it over to Ettrick’s early to help set up, walking alone since you knew the others would be in heels and wouldn’t all fit in the car. You’d brought flats, sensible but stylish, and a comfortable, albeit sparkly, maxi dress. You felt like shit. Sleep would have been nice, you thought. 

Hamish had delivered all of the boxes for you this morning, and the wait staff at Ettrick’s was setting it out for you. You rearranged it as artfully as you could, and you were just about finished when your phone buzzed.

Mo Chroi: phone’s alive! sorry i disappeared on you thief. forgive me?

You: glad youre ok

You: party starts soon

You: cookies.jpg

You: dessert_table.jpg

Mo Chroi: wow! did you do all that? pigeon is gonna be chuffed

Mo Chroi: heading out to the next spot

Mo Chroi: helicopter2.jpg

You: want me to tell Bekah hi? she was waiting on you to text her back last night

Mo Chroi: ?? no 

Mo Chroi: why 

Mo Chroi: what did she say

Mo Chroi: thief? 

You: just that she was hoping you would text her back. idk

You thought about it for a little while before sending a final text.

You: i think she wanted more than just a sunrise. 

SATURDAY NIGHT

You had three missed calls from Johnny, but you were too busy trying to deal with gift unwrapping, keeping the peace at the over-crowded tables, and rushing out appetizer trays when the wait staff became too overwhelmed. It was chilly tonight, but you were sweating under your long dress. 

You thought about what you’d said to Johnny, and you were mad at yourself for trying to get a rise out of him. You didn’t want to be the one playing games, and you needed to curb your jealousy. He was allowed to text whoever he wanted, just like you were.

You: sorry. cant pick up. busy with your sister

You: champagne.jpg

Mo Chroi: answer my calls thief

Mo Chroi: i have to drive the rig but im calling you as soon as we get to our site

Mo Chroi: trucks.jpg

Mo Chroi: at least tell me when you get back. promise

You: promise

SUNDAY, 0200

You: i made it back to my apartment. hamish drove me. train was down for maintenance.

You: marlowe-in-a-bag.jpg

You: marlowe is mad that i was gone

Mo Chroi: im glad youre alright.

Mo Chroi: gaz took this at our training today

Mo Chroi: group_pic2.jpg

You: yall look tough

You: whos the one in the middle

Mo Chroi: thats the captain and ghost has the dog

Mo Chroi: go to bed thief. its late 

Mo Chroi: sunrise2.jpg

Mo Chroi: can i call you later? its important

You: ok

SUNDAY, NOON

You woke to the sound of rain. A loud peal of thunder pulled you from the darkness of your sleep. You would have stayed with Pidge, but you just couldn’t face his bed again. Hamish was happy to be your chauffeur, even after you learned that the train was out of service. You tried to buy him some gas, but he adamantly refused. 

A headache stung behind your eyes, drilling into you, punishing you for the champagne. You hadn’t been drunk, but it had been sweet, and now you were paying the price for your sugar rush. You checked your phone.

Pidge: hHad such a great night!!. Thanku for everytingf i lov youuuu!!

Pidge: omg Anji just boked inthe sink

You didn’t reply. She was probably still asleep, along with the rest of the household. There was nothing from Johnny, yet. It wasn’t unusual. He was busy with terrorism, you figured. He would text you if he wanted to text you. 

Digging in your freezer, you found some leftover soup and put it on to reheat. Your phone rang.

The selfie of you and Johnny at Glencoe flashed onto your screen. You let it ring again before you picked up.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

“You still asleep, thief. I’m sorry to wake you,” he didn’t sound sorry. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Just making some soup. Rainy here. Cold.”

You: rainy_window.jpg

He groaned, and you could hear the creak of a mattress in the background,

“Mm. Spent the whole day on my belly doing target practice. I miss home.”

Mo Chroi: sniperpractice.jpg

“Yeah? Looks sandy and hot. Too bad there’s no beach,” you stirred the soup.

“I miss you, mo mèirleach.”

You stopped stirring the soup. 

“I miss you, too.”

“Do you? Or are you cross about my texting Beks?”

“Both,” you went back to stirring the soup.

“Sent it to Hamish, too. You cross about tha’?”

You sent back silence. 

“And if I told you Bekah’s an old friend from grammar school, and that’s all she’ll ever be, would you believe me, lass?”

Silence was all you had to give, apparently. Finally, you poured the soup into a big bowl and set it down on your coffee table, shoving your papers and books aside, and said, 

“This soup looks amazing. Wanna see it?”

You: soup.jpg

“Thief. She’s just a friend.”

“I think there’s a song about this actually…”

“I think I’m fallin’ for you, and I need to know if you’re fallin’ for me, too.”

The bite of soup you were about to take hovered in your spoon, frozen in time. You could hear him breathing in your ear, waiting on your response. You could feel your heart shudder in your chest. 

“Johnny. We can’t…”

“Don’t. Don’t start with tha’ mess, thief. Tell me you aren’t fallin’ for me, and I’ll stop. No more texts. I’ll leave it alone.”

“She’ll never forgive me, Johnny. I don’t have anybody else, don’t you get that? I’m not even from here. I’m spending Christmas with her because I don’t have anywhere else to go. You have a whole town who loves you, and she’s your sister. She’ll forgive you in a heartbeat.”

“You have me, don’t you, thief?”

“Do I?”

It was his turn to push silence out through time and space, sending it up to the cellular satellites and mirroring it back down to you. Firing frustrated breathing noises across cables and wires and whatever other stupid fucking technology was happening to you right now. 

“Alright, lass.”

The phone beeped at you to inform you that the call had ended, but you kept it pinned on the shell of your ear, desperate for even a moment of that silence again. You regretted your honor the moment you’d held it up, and you were angry at yourself for keeping a promise you’d promised to keep. 

The phone clattered to the coffee table. The soup went cold. 

MONDAY MORNING

There was no sunrise text for you this time. Your phone didn’t have any notifications at all, in fact.  You made it all the way to the bus before you caved.

You: bus.jpg

You waited. Then, you waited some more. Nothing happened. You tried not to cry, and you failed. Luckily, the bus was empty, and the driver didn’t care about you enough to ask what was wrong.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

You: stuck in the library today. office is being cleaned.

You: library.jpg

Again, you were met with the cold emptiness of staring at your own responses at the bottom of your messages. You tried not to feel the sting of it, but you failed at that, too.

THURSDAY MORNING

You: giving a lecture today. kinda nervous about this one.

You: lectureroom2.jpg

You: hope youre okay

FRIDAY MORNING

Your phone buzzed three times, waking you up with a jolt. It was still dark outside. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to see the messages. 

Kyle: Hey this is Kyle, Soap’s mate. We’re heading back to the black site, so it’ll be a few weeks until you hear from him. 

Kyle: airplane_loading.jpg

You: thanks for telling me

Kyle: Soap asked me to tell you he promises??  I think thats what he said.

You: tell him i promise

You: and can you tell him that i made a mistake? he was right. about everything.

You: and im sorry.

Kyle: Will do!

You stared out of the window until the deep purples of night gave way to a cool pink morning glow, and you watched as the sun stretched its gentle arms up and over the river.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Chapter 07

[cherryhak]

彡 Red sweater - Park Gunwook

Pairing. Park Gunwook X reader

Genre. Fluff | classmates to lovers ig

Warnings. None

Wc. 1616

You opened your eyes with difficulty as you contemplated the idea of going back to sleep. A part of you wanted to ditch today because it was the last day of school before Christmas holidays but the other part of you also wanted to go because it was the last day...

A simple 'ding' coming from your phone resonated in your room and you had no choice but to stop this fight against sleep.

You took a look at the screen with drowsy eyes only to find a text from your best friend saying 'i hope you're coming today and not ditching bc its the last day

This made you smile internally and you finally decided to get up from your bed after wasting almost 10 minutes between sleepness and awakeness.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Breakfast was the last thing in your mind as you hurriedly left your house and made a run to the bus stop. If only you got up from bed immediately after your alarm rang...

You made it to the stop just in time as the bus just arrived and you mentally thanked the universe for not ruining this friday (which is often the worse day of your week along with monday)

You let out a sigh and took a sit in the first empty seat you could find. Thankfully no one decided to sit next to you today.

Putting on your headphones you let your mind wander along the music but a weird feeling engulfed you. It felt like you had forgotten something...

You quickly checked your bag to verify if you forgot your pencil case, notebook or lunch but no, everything seemed fine.

Except eating breakfast what could you possibly forget? You had no idea and just decided to shrug it off as one of those random feelings you can't explain.

After a good 20 minutes ride you arrived at your high-school and walked through the gate, looking for your best friend.

"Y/n!" Your head snapped to the other side and you finally saw her, leaning against the wall and waving at you.

As you walked closer to her you could see her eyeing you weirdly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion "What?"

She stifled a laugh "Nothing" she answered with the fakest and most sarcastic smile you've ever seen on her which made you roll your eyes.

"Whatever. We have an hour before classes start, what do you want to do ?"

"Let's go to the library, i didn't do my science homework !" She dramatically said as she grasped your wrist and started to drag you along with her.

As you both are making your way to the library, you hear your name being called from behind you. You stop in your tracks, recognizing the owner of the voice. You turn around, trying your best to keep your composure. Before you was none other than your classmate but also longtime crush, Park Gunwook and his dear friend Kim Gyuvin.

They were both dressed in red

Wait.

You look between them and your laughing bestfriend who was also wearing a red top and that's when it hit you.

Today is the last day before Christmas holidays and your whole class agreed on wearing something red, except you didn't.

That's what you forgot this morning.

Your eyes widened as everything started to make sense

"Why didn't you show up in red Y/n ? Don't you have anything red ? Not even a lipstick??" Gyuvin whined half-jokingly, half-annoyed.

Your lips formed an awkward smile at his whining

"I completely forgot it was today ! I knew i was forgetting something this morning..."

you tried your best to justify yourself but the pout on Gyuvin's face only became more prominent as you spoke.

You looked at Gunwook who still hasn't said anything about your choice of outfit (which was literally a white pair of jeans and a black sweater, nothing close to red even in the slightest)

"Am I the only who forgot in the class ?" You asked panicked at the idea of being the one to mess this whole thing up.

Gyuvin simply nodded at your question which caused your eyes to almost jump out of their sockets.

You turned to your bestfriend and grabbed her shoulders. "You have to have something red you can give me for the day. A red ribbon or something!"

The amused look that was resting on her face from the situation quickly vanished away as she looked into your desperate eyes and realized that she didn't have a solution to your problem

You immediately understood her expression

"No.. you better be kidding me ! You always have spare clothes with you and the only time i need it, you don't ?!" You dramatically ask, hoping that she was just messing with you.

"I swear i d-"

"Y/n"

Ah yes, you almost forgot that the pair was still here watching you desperately shake your friend's shoulders.

You looked back to Gunwook, mentally cursing yourself for making a scene in front of him.

"I can give you my hoodie if you want"

"Huh" that was not supposed to be said out loud... "I mean ! You won't be fitting the theme anymore, i don't want-"

"It's okay I have a red shirt underneath it" he smiled

Fuck, you need to find something else to decline.

"But you'll be cold-"

You cut yourself as he started to take off his hoodie as if you didn't just reject his offer and that's when you realize that you can't do anything to change Park Gunwook's mind, the most stubborn man you've ever known.

He quickly put his messy hair back to it's original styled way before handing you his hoodie which you obviously refused again.

"No no its fine Gunwook i don't need it plus you'll get cold-"

"Don't worry about me" he grabbed your arm and hung the hoodie on it, fully aware that you wouldn't accept it if he didn't take action.

"Uh- Are you sure ??"

"Absolutely" he nodded, giving you the sweetest smile

"Well..Thank you"

He sent you another smile in response before your bestfriend hurried you to go to the library for her science homework.

You both bid farewell to the other two before parting ways

"And you better wear it Y/n ! Don't ruin the class spirit !" Gyuvin yelled and you could hear Gunwook hushing him with a "that's enough" which made you laugh.

Today is not that bad after all.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The last bell rang signaling the end of school but also the beginning of holidays.

Today was... something.

Yes Gunwook gave you his sweater (which means you spent the whole day with his scent lingering on you) but this action had consequences : girls.

Did I mention how Gunwook is extremely good looking and charming and, well, extremely popular among girls ?

Well you wearing his sweater made a lot of noise. Some girls were envious, other jealous and of course a lot of people thought you guys were dating.

Needless to say you were flustered the whole day, mostly when Gunwook sent you all-knowing looks and small smiles from time to time.

You were happy but you also felt sorry for Gunwook. I mean, you don't think that his name being associated to yours would be a good thing for his reputation...

You walked around the school, frantically looking for Gunwook but you couldn't find him anywhere. Did he leave already ? How were you supposed to give him back his hoodie ?

In the distance you spotted one of his friends, a mutual friend, and thought he might know where Gunwook is.

"Ricky !"

"Y/n, Hi!" He warmly smiled

"Hi um do you perhaps know where Gunwook is ? Did he leave already ?"

Ricky smirked at your question and you know he was up to something mischievous

"Why are you looking for him?" He asked, his smirk expending

You deadpaned and showed him the hoodie you were wearing

"I just need to give this back to him, so do you know where he is ?"

He let out a laugh before going back to his serious self, "When i saw him, he told me he needed to check his locker"

You sighed in relief "Thank you Ricky, have a merry Christmas !" And you left before even hearing his answer.

You made your way to the locker area, by now the school was almost empty so you really wished he was still here.

As if the heavens heard your prayers, you saw him standing by his locker.

"Thank god" you sighed out

You quickened your pace until you reached him, startling him in the process

"Gosh Y/n you scared me" he laughed, his hand flying to his heart as a response to fear.

"Sorry" you laughed

You started to take off his hoodie, something you should have done at least 15 minutes ago but you honestly didn't want to take it off.

A hand reached to pull it back down and you looked at him confused

"Keep it"

"What?" You let out

"I said keep it"

"What why ? Have you not heard all these rumors spreading around-"

"But i kinda like the way they sound"

If it was possible your jaw would literally be on the floor right now.

What is going on?

Gunwook only smirked at your reaction

"What do you mean?" You tried your best to sound normal but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you

He messed your hair and laughed

"I'm taking you out on a date soon, let's make the rumors become reality" and with that he walked away and left you standing there, processing everything that just happened in a span of three minutes.

And it all started with a red sweater.

✿ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏʜᴀᴋ

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 15- She Shoots, She Scores

Summary: You and Javi go to visit your family in Chicago. Javi gets his first chance to see snow, the two of you are tasked with unexpected baby sitting duty, and your family is... well, your family.

Word Count: 13.3K (I mean like... Could be worse?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), creampie, praise kink, big ole breeding kink (you watch Javi hold a baby, what do you expect), talks of building a family, grief/loss of a family member, trying to talk about death/loss with a child (UGH sweet little Olivia), mentions of eating, mentions of drinking/being hungover (your dad had a rough night out with his besties), there is literally so much future dad!Javi content in this chapter and I am not sorry about it at all

A/N: Okay I am not gonna lie, the self indulgent part of me was SO excited to get our girl out on the ice in some hockey skates and kick ass 🤪 There are so many things that make me smile about this chapter besides that- the fact that Javi has probably never seen snow before this trip, Javi and Osita babysitting together and being the cutest future parents (please excuse me while I SCREAM into a pillow) and Osita's family just being who they are. Nothing really holiday themed about this chapter at all, just some good, old fashioned midwest winter fun!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“Baby, I’m telling you, you’re gonna wanna pack warmer stuff than that. I don’t think you understand how cold Chicago is this time of year.” You laughed to yourself as you peeked over at Javi’s suitcase, sitting on top of yours to try and cram as many sweaters and sweatshirts in as possible to brace yourself for the reality you knew was winter in the midwest. 

After spending the first half of your winter break together in Laredo, you and Javi had agreed to make your way out to your family to spend the second part of the holidays with them. As much as you had grown to love everything about life in Laredo, there was something about Chicago at Christmas time that filled you with a warmth and happiness you couldn’t wait to share together with Javi. The only problem was, Javi had never once experienced weather colder than your last trip to Chicago in October, let alone the brutal Illinois winter he was in for tomorrow when your flight landed, and the temperature was about to drop 40 degrees. 

“Osita, I find it hard to believe that it’s that fucking cold. I have plenty of stuff packed that I’m sure will be fine.” Javi smirked, now laughing at you, wrestling with the zipper you had barely managed to close from your overflowing outfit choices. 

“Javi. It’s Chicago. In December. It’s fucking cold. But who am I to say anything? I’ve only spent every winter in Chicago since birth, so what would I know?” You groaned, overdramatically rolling your eyes at Javi, who you had spent the past few days trying to prepare for the bitter cold and snow that he was drastically unaware of. “Will you please put like, a few more sweatshirts in there? I promise I’m not trying to be overbearing, I just know you have literally spent your entire life in the sun and if you thought 50 degrees was cold in October, you’re about to be in for a rude awakening, mister.” You snickered, plopping yourself down on the bed next to Javi’s suitcase he found himself hovering over before looking at you, shaking his head. 

“Fine, I will put a few more in there.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your head before heading back over to his drawer to throw a few more sweatshirts and long sleeved shirts in with the rest of his clothes. “I am actually really excited for the snow.” Javi smirked, a boyish grin growing across his face. 

“God, it’s so weird to me that you’ve never seen snow before. It’ll get old fast, believe me. Especially when you have to spend all morning shoveling it out of the driveway before you can go anywhere, or when I kick your ass in a snowball fight.” You reached over, giving him a playful punch before squealing as Javi lunged on top of you, making you bounce on the bed as he peppered ticklish kisses across your neck and chest, leaving you giggling and swatting beneath him. 

“Yeah, really? You’re gonna kick my ass? How the fuck do you kick someone’s ass at a snowball fight, hmmm?” He questioned between pecks of his lips against your skin before finally pulling away, letting you catch your breath from your laughter. 

“You’ll find out once you have a big ole snowball in your face, won’t you?” Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, you crossed your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at Javi, giving him a little shrug. “Don’t think I’m taking it easy on you because you have no snowball making experience. This will be an all out war, Peña.” 

“I don’t think I’d ever expect anything less from you, Osita.” 

Javi was just as thankful as you that this trip to Chicago seemed to be less nerve wracking than your first one a few months ago- for the sake of your own sanity and the bones in his hand, considering your only slightly eased death grip around it on the 3 hour flight leaving Laredo. The O’Hare International Airport was buzzing with the hustle and bustle of holiday travelers, people dashing through the terminals, crowding at gates, and fighting for taxis. You couldn’t believe how busy it still was after Christmas had passed, considering the fight it had been to try and hail a cab to get to your parents house. 

The drive to your childhood home from the airport had felt starkly different than the one you and Javi had taken in October, a sense of comfort and relief washing over you in having ripped off the band aid that was your first trip back home since Patrick’s death, which was approaching almost exactly a year ago. To be honest, there was a part of you that was expecting this trip to somehow be more painful- having to face your first Christmas without your brother- your last one being only days before he had passed away, getting dumped by your ex, and running half way across the country to try and forget anything and everything you could about the life that had crumbled at the seams beneath you. But as you ran your thumb gently over your ring finger, pressing against the delicate gold band that had made its home there since Thanksgiving, staring at your future husband, excitedly looking out the window at the thick flakes of snow falling from the sky, you couldn’t help but smile at just how lucky you were. You also couldn’t help but think how happy your brother would have been for you, too- to know his death hadn’t meant that your life had ended either. Truth be told, it was only just beginning. 

“What do you think?” You asked, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi’s hand a little squeeze, taking in the cuteness that was watching him watch the snowflakes gently drift through the winter breeze before landing in the already massive piles lining the streets below. His eyes lit up with a childlike glow, trying his best to contain his giddiness as he looked out the window before looking back over at you. 

“It’s… Fuck, it’s beautiful.” Even though you knew he was talking about the soft, white flakes falling behind you, the way his eyes never left yours as the words fell from his lips made your cheeks warm in a way that would have melted any snowflakes that would have landed there. “I’m so glad that our kids will be able to grow up knowing what it’s like to have snow.” 

“It is a lot prettier when you know you only have to be in it for a week, and not multiple months.” You laughed as you shook your head, admiring the snow covered suburbia outside your window. It made your smile just a little bit wider as you watched kids playing outside in their front yards, rolling giant snowballs for snowmen or, digging holes in the snow plowed piles along their driveways to make forts, knowing that one day, your children would get to do the same with you and Javi. “Yeah, it is nice that they’ll get to have both. Unless they inherit your warm weather genes, and complain every time it’s colder than 70 degrees out. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to teach them well so we can gang up on you for all the snowball fights.” Javi looked over at you, smirking to himself as he reached across the backseat to grab your hand, intertwining it with yours. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

The rest of your drive was spent quietly, hand in hand, as you admired the snowfall from your windows, gently music playing softly from the car radio as Javi’s thumb rubbed against the soft skin of your knuckles, taking an extra few moments to touch the beautiful ring forever wrapped around your finger, excited for the winters ahead he got to spend with you.  

“Listen… I’m not trying to say I told you so but-” 

“Yeah, it’s fucking cold, okay? You win, Osita.” You tried your best to keep from bursting out into laughter as you could see Javi visibly shivering, pulling out your suitcases out of the back of the cab, trying his best not to drop them in the slush covered streets of your neighborhood. The beautiful facade of the winter wonderland Javi had been admiring through the window of the taxi quickly faded as he stepped outside to face the reality of a true Chicago December. Grabbing your own bag, you hoisted it up over the pile of snow on either side of the walkway up to your house, making sure to take an extra big step over the mound at the edge of the curb you had learned over the years that your dad was too lazy to shovel to avoid ending up with a shoe full of snow.

 “Oh fuck me…” Javi sighed, now ankle deep in the pile you had forgotten to warm him about, frantically shaking his foot to try and get the snow off his foot. 

“Like I said, I’m not trying to say I told you so…” You grimaced, looking down at Javi’s snow soaked foot before looking back up at him, giving him a sarcastically sympathetic shrug. 

“Pendejo. Can we please go inside before we fucking freeze out here?” 

“But I thought it was so beautiful? Have you changed your mind, you warm weathered, sun spoiled baby?” You teasted, giggling to yourself at the annoyed look on Javi’s face before turning back around to head towards the house. 

Almost to the door, you practically froze in your tracks, your jaw hanging open in shock as a cold, hard thump hit the back of your jacket, whipping your head back around the see Javi pulling his hands out of the snow, wiping them on his jeans before glancing down to see the little white blob that had slid down your back, landing by your feet. “Did you just throw a fucking snowball at me?!” You yelled, a devilish smirk spreading ear to ear across Javi’s face as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“It was just so beautiful, I couldn’t help it.” He mocked, raising an eyebrow at you before finishing the rest of the journey up the pathway to your door, giving you a playful nudge as he passed you. 

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.” 

“You’re the one who said yes.” He smirked, gesturing down at the ring on your finger before placing a quick kiss on your rosy cheek, opening up the front door. 

“Hey you guys we’re-” 

“Oh thank God you’re here.” Charlie sighed, frantically shoving an oversized diaper bag in your arms as he ran down the stairs next to the entryway of your parents house. 

“Good to see you too, Charlie? Thanks for the diaper bag? Where’s everyone else?” You questioned, a puzzled look growing across your face, as Charlie rapidly ran back up the stairs, only hearing his voice shout down the hallway. 

“Natalie! They’re here!” You looked up at Javi, the two of you stumped as to what was happening before Charlie was speeding back down the steps, the sound of little feet following behind him. 

“Auntie Bear, Auntie Bear, Auntie Bear!” Olivia squealed, her tiny feet pattering down the hallway, outstretching her arms to be picked up for a hug. Quickly setting down the diaper bag you had been handed to avoid getting run over by your niece, your arms mirrored hers, scooping her up, giving her a big hug. 

“Hi, cutie pie!” You grinned, giving her a big kiss on the cheek before setting her back down, Olivia then swiftly making her way over to Javi. 

“Hi Uncle Javi!” She beamed, wrapping her little arms around his waist, hugging his hip. 

“Hey, Olivia!” Javi smiled widely at his new title, rubbing his hand against her head, ruffling her hair. 

“Hi Awnt Bawwwww!!.” A little voice screeched, Brianna waving her tiny hand at you as she tumbled down the stairwell, following her sister. 

“Hi Lil Miss! C’mere, sweetie!” You giggled, picking up your other niece and hosting her on your hip, planting little kisses across her face, making her squeal, before gently placing her back on the ground. You were so focused on your adorable niece’s hugs and greetings, that you hadn’t been paying attention to Charlie scurrying through the living room, cleaning and gathering items that had been scattered around your parents house by his daughters. Swiftly making her way down the stairs with the newest addition to your family, your new nephew Lucas, Charlie’s wife Natalie was already handing him off to you as she fixed the earring she was trying to place before helping Charlie in the living room.  

“You wanna tell us what’s going on?” You questioned, laughing at your brother and his wife frantically running around the house as you carefully held up Lucas, melting at his sweet, rosy cheeks and messy blonde tufts of hair, finally getting to see him in person for the first time. “Oh my God, aren’t you the sweetest thing? Hi, little Lucas! What are your crazy mom and dad up to, huh? What’s happening that’s got them running around like psychopaths?” You giggled, talking to him in a high pitched voice as he babbled, resting his tiny head against your chest. 

“Can you guys babysit?!” Charlie paused, shoving a few more items into Lucas’s diaper bag sitting by your feet, a pathetic and guilty look growing across his face. 

“Wait, babysit? Where are you two going? Aren’t mom and dad-” 

“Well David was supposed to, but he got called into work today because they were short staffed. Natalie’s work Christmas party is tonight. Our idiot brother told Mom and Dad that you guys weren’t coming until tomorrow, so they planned dinner with the Kolawski’s tonight, and our babysitter is out of town for the holidays so we don’t have anyone to watch the kids.” Charlie grunted as he shoved the last of his shoe on his foot, standing up and looking at you with pleading eyes. “Mom and Dad were watching while we were at work and when we found out you guys were actually coming in today, we stayed hoping that you could watch them, too. Please Cubby?” 

“Well, I think your first mistake was trusting David to relay any accurate information at any point in time.” You rolled your eyes, readjusting Lucas, cradling the back of his head. 

“If you could, it would mean so much. I’ve been looking forward to finally going back to see everyone at work for this party. I know it’s so last minute. I’m so sorry you guys, if you can’t it’s okay, we don’t have to go.” Natalie smiled sympathetically, leaning down to give Olivia a quick kiss on the head as she wrapped her arms around her mom’s leg. 

“Please Auntie Bear? Please, please, please, please?” Olivia begged, looking up at you with big puppy dog eyes. 

“I don’t see why we can’t? Is that okay with you, Jav?” You shrugged at Charlie before looking over at Javi, eyes wide as he stared at you bouncing Lucas in your arms, your words seeming to go in one ear and out the other watching you hold your nephew. 

“Hmmm? Oh yeah. Yeah! Yeah, of course we can babysit.” Javi visibly shook his head to snap himself out of whatever daydream he was having as he looked at you, bringing himself back to reality. 

“Yay! Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi are gonna babysit!” Olivia squealed, squeezing Brianna in excitement, the two of them giggling and bouncing up and down before running off into the living room, heading back to whatever toys they were playing with before your arrival.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, Cubby. We owe you big time.” Charlie reached over, giving you a quick side hug before reaching for his and Natalie’s coats behind you, hanging by the front door. 

“It’s not a big deal at all, Charlie, we’re more than happy to. Anything special we need to know with this lil cutie? The other two I’ve got down pat.” You leaned over, kissing Lucas’s soft, feathery hair as you held him. 

“Keep him alive? I don’t know, Cubby, he’s a baby, it’s not that hard. Feed him and put him to bed when he falls asleep.” Charlie raised an eyebrow at you, shrugging as he put his coat on. 

“You’re not the one that question was directed towards, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, looking over at Natalie, laughing to herself as she shimmied her coat over her arms. 

“I just fed him an hour ago, so you can feed him at 8, diaper bag has everything he needs in there, his pack-n-play is set up in the spare room, and if he’s fussy, put him in the baby rocker and he’ll fall right asleep. You can call Charlie’s cell if you need anything, and I’ll answer.” 

“Thank you for that helpful information, Natalie. Crazy that I’d wanna know those kinds of things before having a 3 month old baby dropped in my care.” You jabbed at Charlie, oblivious to your remark as he was already opening the front door. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Thank you Cubby, we’ll be back at like, 10? Okay, bye you guys, be good for Auntie Bear and Javi, love you!” Charlie half shouted as he booked it out the door, Natalie following behind him. 

“Thank you guys, so much. I’d apologize for Charlie being the way that he is, but…you already know. Bye girls! I love you both, Daddy and I will see you later, okay? Have lots of fun!” Natalie gave you a quick hug before waving goodbye, following Charlie out the door, leaving Olivia, Brianna, Lucas, in your care for an unexpected night in on babysitting duty. 

“Is this okay? I’m really sorry, I know we just got here, I wasn’t gonna say no, but I-” 

“Hermosa. Of course it’s okay.” Javi smiled, cutting you off as he placed his hand on the small of your back, his thumb tracing soft circles along your jacket you still had yet to take off from your arrival.

“Okay. You sure? You were giving me a weird look when I asked you at first.” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him before pressing a soft kiss onto Lucas’s head as he cooed. Javi looked back at you, letting out a sigh, biting down on his lip and he leaned down to give you what you thought was going to be a kiss on your cheek, before he stopped at your ear. 

“Maybe it’s because watching you hold that baby is making me wanna put one in you right now.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, his breath hot and heavy against your neck as he pulled away, giving you a quick wink while your eyes just about popped out of your head from his unwarranted comment. 

“Jesus Christ, Javier Jesús Peña. You cannot just be saying things like that to me, or I’m gonna throw my fucking birth control out the window and spontaneously combust.” You sighed, jabbing his side as the two of you laughed to yourselves. 

“Auntie Bearrrrrrrr! Me and Bri Bri are hungry! We want dino nuggies, pleaseeeee!” Olivia shouted from across the room, waving one of her many stuffed animals at you to get your attention.

“Okay, cuties! Let’s go in the kitchen and we can make some dinner, alright?” You called back, thankful for your niece’s impeccable timing before you melted into a puddle from Javi’s suggestion. “You’re a menace, you know that right? This is about to be the most challenging night of babysitting ever because of you. You haven’t even held Lucas yet, and just the thought of it is making me want to do unspeakable things to you.” You sighed, making your way towards the kitchen, trying your best to not even look at Javi before you completely fell apart. 

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Javi smirked as he followed behind you, making you whip your head around, giving him a stern look for the sake of your sanity. 

“A menace, I swear.” 

Olivia and Brianna had somehow charmed you and Javi into convincing the both of you that they needed not only dinosaur chicken nuggets, but also mac and cheese, compromising with carrots as the required vegetable to go with their meal if they wanted the hot chocolate they had also requested for after dinner. 

“Uncle Javi, will you play reindeer with us while Auntie Bear finishes cooking?” Olivia asked, dangling her legs off the counter where Javi had put her after her request to help with placing the chicken nuggets on the baking sheet before they went in the oven. You smirked at Javi, holding Brianna on your hip as she fumbled with a noodle you had given her to play with while you stirred the mac and cheese. 

“Reindeer?” He asked, leaning against the counter next to Olivia, hand on his hip as he began to intently listen to her explanation. 

“Before Mommy and Daddy left, Bri Bri and I were reindeer and Daddy was Santa and he had to chase us back to help get ready for next Christmas!” Olivia stated, matter of factly, as if everyone should have already been aware of how to play. 

“Yeah, you dotta wun weeeellyyy fast!” Brianna chimed in, finally plopping the stray noodle into her mouth, chewing loudly in your ear. 

“What, are you saying I’m not fast enough, Missy?” You smiled at Olivia, making her giggle as you set Brianna down before giving her sides a tickle and picking her up off of the counter and placing her on the ground next to her sister. 

“No, it’s because Uncle Javi has to be Santa and you have to be Mrs. Claus so you can watch the baby elf.” She told you, pointing over at Lucas, sound asleep in his rocker, a mischievous grin on her face. “So Uncle Javi has to chase us or else we won’t be playing it right. Please Uncle Javi, will you play reindeer with us? Pleaseeeee?” Olivia pleaded, looking up at Javi, pouting her bottom lip, quickly joined by Brianna, stomping her feet in excitement. 

“Do we have enough time to play reindeer?” Javi grinned, raising an eyebrow at you as you stirred the pot simmering on the stove, looking over at your timer. 

“You guys have 6 minutes before dinner is done, got it?” You smiled at the girls as they began to squeal in delight. “But… Reindeer are extra fast if they eat carrots, so one carrot for each of you before you play okay?” You grabbed two carrot sticks from the bag on the counter, holding them out to the girls who gladly agreed at their newly promised speed. 

“Okay!” They chomped, Olivia stopping mid-bite, pointing towards Javi. “Doesn’t Uncle Javi have to eat a carrot, too?” She questioned, now debating the fairness of your carrot trick. 

“I thought Santa just got to eat cookies…” Javi grumbled, trying to get out of paying your carrot toll. 

“Oh, that is a good point, Olivia! Santa should have to eat some carrots, it’d be good for him.” You snickered, holding out a carrot stick for Javi, grimacing as he crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to take it from you, knowing that you were well aware of his disdain for this particular vegetable. 

“Last time I checked, Santa doesn’t like carrots.” 

“Last time I checked, Santa was a good role model for his reindeer who ate his carrots and didn’t complain about it.” You shoved the carrot in Javi’s face, laughing to yourself as he rolled his eyes, painfully taking it out of your hand, looking at it with regret before taking a bite. Javi tried his best to hide the disgusted look on his face as he chewed, letting out a gulp as he swallowed, trying to play off how much he had hated every second of what he had just done. 

“Wow, SO good.” Javi glared at you as the two girls took off running out of the kitchen, screaming and screeching for Javi to come catch them while you looked back at him with a smug smile, shrugging playfully. “You make me eat another carrot and I’m on the next flight home to Texas.” 

“UNCLE JAVI YOU HAVE TO COME CATCH US NOW!” Olivia yelled from the next room over, you and Javi peeking out from the kitchen to see her and Brianna doing laps around the living room. 

“You are such a baby. A 3 and 6 year old complained less than you did. Now go, you have some very fast reindeer to catch, Santa. Don’t make me give you another carrot.” You giggled as you pressed up on to your tiptoes, cupping Javi’s cheek as you gave him a quick kiss, Javi wrapping his hand around the back of your head to hold you there a moment longer, his voice low and hushed as his lips barely parted from yours. 

“Careful what you ask for, baby. Can’t give you my North Pole later if I’m all the way back in Laredo cause you made me eat another fucking carrot.” With a wink and another quick peck on your cheek, Javi pulled away, making his way towards the girls in the living room as you gave him the most over dramatic roll of your eyes you could conjure. 

“JAVIER PEÑA. You are the most ridiculous person I have ever met, I swear to God.” 

You had most definitely let more than your promised 6 minutes go by as you stood in the entrance to the living room, watching Javi chase Olivia and Brianna in circles around the couch, the 3 of them laughing and smiling as he would purposely let them pass him, only to grab them both a few moments later, tossing them onto the cushions before the girls crawled over the sides of the sofa to escape again.

 It was a good thing you hadn’t watched him hold Lucas yet, because the sight of him playing with your nieces alone was enough to have you weak in the knees, thinking about how goddamn sweet he was with them, and much sweeter it would be once it was your own kids, not just Olivia and Brianna. 

You were so in love with this man, it physically hurt. 

The four of you chatted away at dinner, listening to Olivia talk about her class party at school, what gifts they had gotten for Christmas, and what toys they were most excited to show you from Santa. Your reindeer trick had worked wonders to get them to eat the rest of their carrots, along with their nuggets and macaroni, the girls both very adamantly reminding you that they could get their hot chocolate now that they had finished all of their dinner. 

You and Javi had agreed there had been plenty of reindeer chasing for the night, and with it starting to get late, that you all could pick a movie to watch while drinking your coco as the last activity before getting the girls to bed. You helped Olivia and Brianna get changed into their pajamas and put Lucas down for bed while Javi finished cleaning up the rest of dinner and starting the hot chocolate. 

As the girls paraded back out into the living room in their matching snowman pajamas, they shrieked in delight to see that Javi had somehow managed to find every spare pillow and blanket in your parent’s house, making a giant, cozy nest in front of the couch, complete with the glow of your parent’s Christmas tree in the background, and mugs of hot chocolate resting on the TV stand waiting for them. A few minutes later after putting Lucas down to bed, you followed behind, hearing their giggles and squeals as they nestled into the comfy pile on the ground, Javi sitting on the sofa waiting for you. 

“Auntie Bear, look! Uncle Javi made us a blanket pile! And he put extra whipped cream in our hot chocolate!” Olivia beamed, whipped cream smeared across her face as he smiled at you. 

“Da hot chocwate is weelllyyy yummy!” Brianna joined in, her whipped cream mustache almost as thick as Javi’s real one. 

“If they’re up at midnight, I’m telling Charlie and Natalie it was your fault.” You whispered to Javi as you sat down next to him, Javi automatically wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you curled up in the broadness of his grasp. 

“You’re the one who promised them hot chocolate, Osita.” He whispered back, giving you a little nudge and a wink. 

“Not hot chocolate and half a can of whipped cream on top.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing to yourself as you watched the girls chug the rest of their drinks, passing Javi the remote to the TV. “The girls voted for Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.  I told them I met some really cool reindeer earlier, but they kept trying to run away from Santa. I wonder if they’re in this movie too.“ 

“Oh my goodness, Olivia and Brianna are my favorite reindeer that pull Santa’s sleigh, you saw them earlier? I’m so sad I missed them!” You and Javi smiled as Olivia and Brianna broke out in hysterical giggles. 

“No Uncle Javi and Auntie Bear, that was us! We’re not really reindeer, Uncle Javi was just being silly.” Olivia laughed, her cheeks turning pink and rosy from her grin. 

“He is very silly, isn’t he? You ready for the movie, my favorite little reindeers?” 

It wasn’t long before the giggles and sing-alongs of Rudoplh had quickly turned to soft, sleepy snores from Olivia and Brianna, curled up in their blankets and snuggled up with their stuffed animals long before the film had finished. 

“I think you wore these reindeer out, Jav.” You smiled, looking down at the girls sound asleep, tucked away in the piles of pillows around them. 

“I think those reindeer wore me out. Jesus, I gotta stretch before I do that next time or I’m gonna throw out my back.” The two of you quietly laughed to yourselves, Javi resting his hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently. The two of you turned your heads as you heard a muffled cry coming from the baby monitor you had set on the end table near the couch, realizing that Lucas was awake, and needed something. 

“You wanna come with me to check on him?” You grunted, pushing yourself to stand from the couch, carefully stepping over your nieces, tucked away in the sea of pillows and blankets at your feet. 

“You sure they’re okay out here by themselves?” Javi gestured over to the girls, both sound asleep. 

“Jav, I’m pretty sure a tornado could blow through this house right now and they’d sleep through it. C’mon.” 

Sneaking quietly down the hallway into the guest room, you gently pushed open the door to the sounds of a wailing Lucas, writhing in his pack-n-play, tiny fists shaking in the air. “Oh c’mere, handsome.” You cooed, reaching down to pick up Lucas, hugging him against your chest as you bounced him up and down. “What’s the matter, bub?” You continued rocking, giving him a little kiss on the head as you held him. “Well, it’s not his diaper, and I just changed it after the girls put on their pajamas.” You shrugged, talking to yourself, tilting your head down to sniff near his tiny bottom, free of any suspicious scents. “I fed him then too. The little guy was out cold after that. What’s goin’ on, sweetie? Maybe you need to be burped again, ya little gassy monster. Here, Jav, can you hold him while I go get the burp cloths from the diaper bag?” 

The way you had picked Lucas up, you had your back to Javi, talking to your little nephew without even looking over at your fiancé. You figured he probably just hadn’t heard you, and had mistaken your question for him with the babbling you had been doing with Lucas. “Jav?” You asked again, this time turning around to face him, greeted by the awestruck look on Javi’s face, eyes wide and jaw slack as he stared you up and down. 

“Hmmmm?” He asked, shaking his head, letting out a loud gulp as the Adam's apple of his throat bobbed in his neck. 

“Can you hold Lucas while I go get something from his diaper bag?” You smirked, raising an  eyebrow at him, dying to know the thoughts swirling in his brain that had his face looking as dumbfounded as it did right now. 

“I uh, yeah- um, yeah, I can.” Javi responded, now looking flustered and nervous as you outstretched Lucas towards him. “Do you trust me to hold him?” He asked, reaching his hands out to take Lucas from you, his question quiet and sheepish. You cocked your head in confusion as you stared back at him. 

“Baby, of course I do? Do you not wanna hold him? You don’t have to if-” 

“No, I do, I just- He’s- I don’t wanna hurt him or anything- I don’t- I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby this small.” 

Javier Peña was a man who had faced many dangerous things in life- the cartel, violence, drugs, literal life or death decisions- Things that would make the average person tremble in fear, that Javi had learned to deal without a second thought. Yet, the prospect of holding a tiny, 3 month old baby in front of his future wife had Javi more nervous than he could remember being in the past decade. 8 months ago, he had no plans of ever finding someone, let alone plans to get married, or to have children of his own. Now, he wanted nothing more to give you a family- fuck, he’d give you all the kids you want, but that meant the reality of this future prospect was finally starting to sink in with Javi. 

He was terrified to be a dad. 

Not because he didn’t love you. Not because he didn’t want to be (because fuck, did he want to be), but because the idea that the tired, worn, and damaged man he’d written himself off to be was supposed to raise, protect, and nurture the tiny, little person the two of you would someday bring into the world scared the shit out of him. And all it took was you outstretching your crying newborn nephew in front of him for that earth shattering reality to sink in. 

“Javi…” You sighed, almost laughing to yourself with how worried your sweet fiancé was about being so careful with Lucas. “Baby, it’s okay. Here, why don’t you go sit down on the chair that’s over there and I’ll hand him over to you. We can take standing out of the equation if it makes you feel better.” Javi nodded, quickly sitting himself down on the oversized, cushioned chair in the corner of the guest bedroom. Bouncing Lucas a few more times to try and ease some of his tears before handing him over to Javi, you passed him off to his outstretched arms, carefully cradling him along his chest and shoulder. “You got ‘em?” You smiled, watching Javi’s eyes light up as he held Lucas, his tension visibly starting to ease once he was in his grasp. “I’ll be right back, okay?” 

You had no choice but to hightail it out of the guest room without looking at Javi for too long, knowing you would very much need to brace yourself for the image of Javi holding a baby before returning, considering you were going to absolutely crumble like a piece of paper the moment you really got a good look at him. 

As soon as Lucas was settled in Javi’s arms, his crying immediately began to ease, Javi gently rocking him in hopes that it would help to settle him down more. “Shhhhhh, hey, it’s okay, big guy.” Javi whispered, grinning to himself as he gazed down at Lucas’s bright eyes and rosy cheeks. “Fuck, you are cute. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t swear in front of you. Well, I don’t know, you’re a baby, you can’t understand anything I’m saying, can you?” Chuckling to himself, Javi leaned further back into the chair, pressing Lucas’s weight against his chest, resting the width of his large palm over his tiny head and back. “You think your Aunt’s gonna let me give her one of you soon? I sure hope so.” 

Turning the corner down the hallway back into the guest bedroom, you were 100% correct in realizing that there was no amount of mental preparation you could have done to brace yourself for the sight that was your future husband, snuggling and smiling with your nephew, who on top of everything else, had also gotten him to somehow stop crying. 

Jesus Christ, you were so fucked and needed him to give you 14 children today.  

“Wow, I leave for 30 seconds and you get him to stop crying?” You smirked, biting down on your lip as Javi looked over at you leaning in the doorway, holding your stack of brightly colored cloths from Lucas’s bag. “I didn’t know you were a baby whisperer, too.” 

“I didn’t think I did anything, I just held him and he stopped. He’s been fine since you left.” Javi shrugged, gently combing his fingers through the wild, sleepy ends of Lucas’s hair. 

“Alright, message received loud and clear, Baby Lucas, you like Uncle Javi better than me. A little rude, but alright.” You giggled, making your way next to Javi, standing beside him as you leaned down to press a kiss onto Lucas’s forehead before doing the same to Javi. “Well, I guess whatever was wrong, he’s fine now. He must have just needed you to hold him. Which, I really can’t complain about.” 

You should have felt at least a little guilty for subjecting your infant nephew to the now palpable tension flooding the guest room, completely lost in your own world as you soaked in every ounce of watching Javi cradle Lucas in his broad grasp, using all your self restraint to keep from pouncing on him. You were so lost in your fantasy, that you hadn’t even heard Charlie and Natalie make their way back through the front door, down the hallway and into the guest room. 

“You babysat and knocked both the gremlins on their asses out cold? Man, I really do owe you two.” Charlie’s voice startled you, making you gasp as you whipped your head around to see him standing in the doorway. “She’s got you on baby duty too, Jav? Goddamn, I owe you a beer, man. Honestly something stronger than that. Here, I’ll take him.” Charlie laughed, reaching out to grab his son as Javi slowly stood, carefully holding Lucas as he rose out of his seat, passing him off to your brother. “Thanks, man. You lookin’ to throw down tomorrow? David’s got the day off, and since dad’s retired, he has put every ounce of time and effort into the ice rink since the weather has gotten below freezing. I think he’s hoping the NHL will come and scout him for his backyard rink building skills.”

“Uh, yeah- yeah, for sure. We’re up for whatever.” You replied, still distracted by the sight of Javi, not even holding your nephew anymore, but the image still fresh and burning in your brain. “Hey, uh, did Mom and Dad say when they were gonna be home?” Watching Charlie collect Lucas’s things from the guest room in his free arm, you shot Javi a desperate look, filled with need and want, biting down on your lip to see his gaze match yours. 

Unaware of yours and Javi’s silent exchange, Charlie picked up Lucas’s bag, shuffling it on his shoulder as he responded. “Uh shit, I don’t know. I mean, they’re going out with Gary and Marcella, which means at this point, that Gary’s got dad 6 Irish Car Bombs deep and Mom and Marcella are probably asleep on the bar, my guess is not for a while.” He chuckled, giving you a suspicious look as you nodded in agreement, Charlie looking back and forth between you and Javi, now picking up on the undeniable tension. “Just don’t fuck in my old room, okay?” 

“Fuck off, Charlie. Your room still probably reeks of all your old hockey gear you refused to wash anyways.” You sighed, grimacing at him, trying to keep your face from turning any brighter red than it already was. 

“Night lovebirds. Thanks again for watching the gremlins. See you tomorrow?” He smirked, winking at you and Javi before slipping out the door, leaving you two standing alone in the guest room. 

“Good night, you guys! Thank you again!” Natalie shouted from down the hallway, you and Javi still standing frozen in place as you heard the front door open and close, locking behind your family traveling out of it. 

From the moment you knew the door was closed, you practically pounced on Javi, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt as your mouth met his with an electric intensity. Your lips crashed together as Javi ran his hands down your body, grabbing you under your thighs as your legs wrapped around the small of his back, hands tugging at the dark curls of his hair. “I need you so bad.” You moaned, your words barely escaping your lips above a whisper. 

“You sure your parents are gonna be home soon?” Javi groaned, making his way out of the guest room before carrying you down the hallway, your kisses still rushed and frantic as he made his way up the stairs towards your room. 

“What are we, 15? Charlie’s right, they’re both drunk off their asses so they won’t be back for hours, and even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t care. Fuck, watching you hold that baby did things to me.” Using his back to push open your bedroom door, Javi threw you down onto your bed, already shedding his shirt as you bounced on the mattress, a hungry look in his eyes as he reached down to practically rip your clothes off your body, tossing them in a heap on the floor. 

  “Yeah?” He smirked, hovering over you, trapping your body under his as he planted his hands into the mattress on either side of your head. He dipped his head down, slowly kissing his way up your body, his lips hot and heavy on your skin as they traveled up your stomach towards your breasts, swirling each pebbled nipple with his tongue, releasing with a wet pop, taking his sweet time as he worked his way up the exposed skin of your collarbone. “You like that? The thought of me putting a baby in you? Making me a dad?” You could feel his devilish grin pressed against your neck between his nips at your pulse point, basking in the power he knew his words had to make you lose your mind before even laying a finger on you. 

“Holy fuck…” You whimpered, already writhing beneath him, the ache building between your legs desperate to be filled even before Javi had begun whispering sweet nothings against your skin. “Javi, please, Jesus Christ.” You could feel yourself growing impatient as he toyed with you, working you up to the point of becoming unbearably needy before his hands had even met your body, getting you exactly where he wanted you. 

“Please what, Osita? Don’t think I heard you answer my question yet.” Javi mewled, a smug grin spreading across his face as he began to trail his kisses back down your body, finally bringing his hands to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, making you gasp, now only finding it harder to find the words for a coherent sentence. 

“Yes. Fuck. Fuck, I want you to put a baby in me so bad. Jesus, I’ll have as many of your babies as you want.” You paused, lifting your head up to watch Javi, sinking down to his knees at the end of the bed, nudging your legs open as he draped them over his shoulders, now satisfied with your answer. He looked up at you, noticing the equally big smirk on your face as you bit down on your lip. “You really want me to make you a daddy, huh?” 

Two could play at this game. 

As much as you joked about it, that one sent the blood flow straight to his cock, now painfully straining against the denim of his jeans, making him have to bite his tongue to keep from audibly groaning. “Fuckk meee.” He whispered, shaking his head before locking his arms over your legs, scooting you closer to him, now coming face to face with the worked up and dripping mess you had already become. “Seems like the answer to that question is already between your legs, baby. Pretty fucking pussy’s soaked and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

“Javi, Jesus Christ, pleaseeeee.” You moaned, nearly bucking your hips at him in your desperate state. 

“Please, who?” Javi smirked, darting his eyes up at you, making you tremble as you felt the strong arch of his nose bump against your clit. 

“Seriously?” You huffed, rolling your eyes at Javi 1- for making you wait any damn longer, and 2- knowing the answer to his question, even if you only used it jokingly with him. Javi raised an eyebrow at you, letting out a little shrug that lifted your legs draped over his shoulders, waiting for your response. 

“Please, daddy.” 

“There ya go, baby.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Wasn’t planning on venturing there today, but can if you want me to.” 

“Jesus Christ… Javi, for the love of God, please, just fuck me. I am dying up here.” You sighed, laughing to yourself to ward off the impatient mess Javi had turned you into with his antics. 

“Wow, someone’s needy, hmmm? You want me to fuck you, sweet girl? Sure you don’t need me to-” 

“I need you so bad, Javi.” Sitting up on your elbows, you reached in front of you, trying to bend over the edge of the bed to prompt him to stand up so you could tug at the waistband of his jeans and unbutton his pants. Following your request, Javi rose up, now almost as frantic as you as he began to push his pants and his boxers down his legs, letting them pool around his ankles before stepping out of them, cupping his his hands around your cheeks, pressing his mouth against yours as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip. Just like that, his cool and collected facade had faded, leaving him just as worked up and wanting as you, his hands roaming every inch of your body before gently pushing you down to lay with your back on the mattress, prompting you to bring your knees to your chest as he stood at the edge of the bed. Reaching down to stroke himself, Javi lined his cock up with your dripping heat, collecting your arousal as his tip slid through your folds before pressing into you, the sweet stretch making you whimper. With how worked up you’d been, Javi slid in easily, flushing his hips against yours, his tip brushing along your cervix, pausing for a moment, buried deep inside of you. 

Before you could say anything, he pulled back out, setting a pounding pace as he thrusted in and out of you, his fingertips gripping at the meat of your thighs as they pressed against your chest. The fullness of his cock ramming into had you whining, your jaw going slack as stared up at Javi’s broad body hovering over you, the muscles of his arms flexing as he leaned further into you, snaking one of his hands between your legs to circle at your clit. “This what you wanted, Hermosa? Fuck you like the good girl you are? Fuck you like I’m gonna fuck a baby into you?” 

You nodded frantically, your mind going blank with each push and pull of his length sliding from your heat and rub of his fingers against your throbbing bundle of nerves, relishing in the sweet sound of Javi’s thighs slapping against yours, over and over. “Yes- fuck- oh my god, yes. Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I want more. Baby, please, fuck me harder.” 

Your request had Javi’s eyes going wide, letting out a low groan through gritted teeth, his pace still relentless as he gazed down at you, watching you nod your head in silent reassurance. “Fuck. Turn around, Osita.” He hissed as he pulled out, watching you flip over as your chest laid on the mattress and stuck your ass out, Javi instinctively gripping his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips as he guided himself back into your cunt, the both of you moaning as he filled you with the delicious sting of his cock. He began snapping his hips against your ass, feeling you press yourself back deeper onto him with each thrust, knowing he was buried well within the spot that would have you teetering on the brink of coming undone. The lewd noises between your bodies fill the room- your hungry moans, the slapping of your skin, the wetness of your throbbing cunt as Javi pounded into you repeatedly, the filthy words falling from his mouth as he dug his fingers deeper into your hips.

“Fuck Javi, oh my god. Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop baby. Fuckkkk.” You whimpered, feeling the delicious tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine and your pussy starting to flutter. Javi wasn’t sure what it was- maybe it was the fact that you had practically begging him to fuck you, then give you more. Maybe it was watching you all fucked out and moaning beneath him. Maybe, it was the fact that watching you hold that baby made him want to give you your own. Whatever it was, something feral, almost primal ignited in him, reaching his arm underneath you to pull you up, pressing your back against his chest, wrapping his hands around your body, like he needed you as close as he could have you. One hand grasped at your breast, squeezing the plush skin between his fingers while the other draped across your waist, the heel of his palm rubbing against your throbbing clit as he feverishly fucked into you.  

 “I’m not gonna stop, Osita. Not gonna stop until you cum around my cock and I fuck myself so deep inside of you, I’m dripping out of you for days. Fuck myself so deep inside of you, maybe’ll fucking beat your birth control, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

You could feel your body beginning to tremble as the coil in your belly snapped, your orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that made your back arch against Javi’s chest, and legs shake, screaming his name as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around his cock as the pleasure washed over you. It was only a few more thrusts before Javi was chasing his own high, ramblings of incoherent Spanish and English falling from his lips as he spilled deep inside of you, milking himself of every last drop with one final pump, feeling the mixture of your spend dripping down your thighs as your chests rose and fell in sync, the two of you trying to catch your breath as you hunched over against the bed. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered, quietly laughing to yourself, laying face down on the bed as Javi grabbed the box of tissues from your dresser, unfamiliar where anything else was to help clean the two of you up, gently wiping the mess between your legs before throwing the wad of kleenex into the trash can. You crawled under the covers, smirking at Javi and biting down on the tip of your thumb as he made his way back to you. 

“What’s that look for?” He asked, chuckling to himself, sneaking under the covers next to you, squeezing his way into the cramped space that was your full-sized childhood bed. You draped your arm across his waist, resting your head on the bare skin of his chest, tracing gentle circles on his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in tighter. 

“Holding that baby really did something to ya, huh?” You giggled, giving him a little playful shake in your grasp. 

“Did something to me? Says the one who was literally begging me to fuck her from the moment your brother picked up the kids and left.” Javi chuckled, gently stroking the messy ends of your hair through his fingers, nudging you back. 

“Okay, but can you blame me? Have you seen yourself hold a baby? Jesus Christ, Jav.” The both of you laughed, laying together for a moment before you felt Javi take a deep breath, your face rising and falling with the exhale of his chest. 

“Do you- Do you ever worry that I’m not gonna be a good dad?” Javi mumbled, his shaky voice barely above a whisper as he fidgeted with his fingers, his thumb carefully running over his knuckles. You paused for a second, almost wondering if you had misheard him, tilting your head up at him, shocked by the genuine concern pooling in his dark brown eyes. You pushed up on your elbows, resting your hand on his cheek to force his gaze onto yours. 

“Javi… Baby, are you serious?” You couldn’t help but almost laugh at the question, wondering how in the world Javi could be asking it with sincerity. He sat silent for a moment, his eyes darting away from yours, a small frown drawn between his lips. “Javi. Of course I think you’re gonna be a good dad. Why- Jav, why would you think that?” You brought your other hand to his face, drawing his attention back to you, trying to reassure him with your soft and sweet voice. 

Javi let out another sigh, anxiously chewing on his lip. “I just- I don’t know. I’ve done a lot of fucked up things. Things I’m not proud of. Holding that baby today made me realize how goddamn terrified I am that I’m gonna do something to fuck up. I’d do anything for you or our family, I just- fuck. What if it isn’t enough? What if I’m not good enough?” 

You could almost feel your heart shatter from the dismay of Javi’s words, immediately wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him as tightly as you could to comfort him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Javier Jesús Peña. Look at me.” You grabbed his face again, forcing him to let out a little laugh at your sarcastically stern tone. “Javi, there is no one else on the face of this earth I want to be the father of my children more than you. And not just because you’re gonna be the hottest dilf I’ve ever seen.” 

“Dilf?” Javi raised an eyebrow at you in confusion. 

“Dad I’d like to fuck. Jav, you are the sweetest, most thoughtful man I have ever met. You are so good with Olivia and Bri and Lucas, the Murphy girls, even my class of buffoons you were so patient and kind to. The fact that you even care enough to worry about these kinds of things tells me you’re gonna be the most amazing dad. I love you, Javi.” You smiled softly, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips, twisting your fingers through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you too, Osita. God, you’re gonna be the best mom. Our kids are gonna be so fucking lucky.” Javi grinned, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face, the tension beginning to release from his body. 

“Oh believe me, I worry all the time that I’m not gonna be a good mom either. Knowing what a little menace I was as a kid, plus all the crazy little demons I’ve worked with throughout teaching… I’ve learned a lot of ways to not be a good parent, but I still always worry that I’m gonna end up raising a little Miguel who tries to hot glue his hands together or shove crayons up his nose and makes his teacher wanna cry everyday.” The two of you laughed, shaking your heads thinking of some of the many horror stories Javi had heard and you had witnessed over the years from children you were very glad were only your responsibility for one school year. 

“I hope our kids are like you.” 

“Really? You want our kids to be sarcastic, stubborn pains in our asses?” You teased, giving Javi a little nudge. “They better get your good looks if they’re gonna have my personality.” 

“Shut up, you dork.” He sighed, prodding you back, gently tickling your ribcage, making you giggle and squirm before wrapping his arms back around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. “Sometimes I still can’t fucking believe it.” 

“Believe what, ya goof?” 

“This. You. That I’m gonna fucking marry you. That you wanna give me a family and spend the rest of your life with me. That you fucking love me. I’d thought I’d given up on all this shit a long time ago. I’m really glad I didn’t have to.” 

“I’m really glad you didn’t have to either.” 

“Jesus Christ, could you not be so loud?!” Your dad whined, scrunching his brow in pain as he rubbed his temples with the worn callouses of his fingers as you and Javi made your way down the stairs, meandering into the kitchen. 

“Good morning to you too.” You laughed, reaching up to grab coffee mugs for you and Javi, as he leaned down, patting your dad on the back to greet him. 

“Hey, good to see you Mr.-” 

“For fucks sake, please- Jav, buddy, I love ya, I swear to God, if you keep talking so loud, I’m gonna sock you in the face.” A dramatic wince spread across your dad’s brow, pinching the bridge of his nose, holding up his free hand to stop Javi from speaking any further. 

“Fun night last night?” You snickered, setting down a warm cup of coffee for you and Javi as the two of you pulled up chairs at the kitchen table where your dad was sulking. 

“Well someone seems to think that every time he goes out drinking with Gary, he’s 21 again and isn’t going to suffer the consequences of endless Irish Car Bombs the next day.” Stumbling into the kitchen to join you, your mom grumbled as she wrapped her robe tighter around her chest, her look equally as disheveled as your dad’s. “Good to see you two, but what your dad said, not so loud, please.” Your mom sat down next to you, letting out a loud groan, reaching over to steal a swig of Javi’s coffee. “Sorry honey, you’re family now, and I’m hungover as shit.” 

“The coffee’s all yours.” Javi chuckled, pushing the mug over to your mom. 

“So what are all you idiots up to today?” Greg mumbled, taking a sip of his own coffee, trying his best to be interested in your presence, despite his pounding headache. 

“About to put that ice rink of yours to good use, old man.” David laughed, hands outstretched for high fives from you and Javi as he burst through the front door towards the kitchen. 

“Will you keep it down, you motherfucker? You won’t be alive to make it to the backyard if you keep screaming like that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating from your dad as he buried his face in his hands.

“Love you too, dad.” David snickered, giving your dad a hearty slap on the back, playing into his post-drinking pain. 

“Do you guys actually have an ice rink in your backyard?” Javi asked, trying to peer out the window over the kitchen sink to see if this was just your family trying to pull one over on him. 

“Yes, actually. Since we have such a big backyard, my dad decided to build one when Charlie first started skating, and it’s been there every winter ever since. I’m pretty sure Dad loves that rink more than he loves his own kids.” You laughed, rolling your eyes as Charlie slapped your dad, making him let out a long, exasperated sigh. 

“Honey, that is not true, your dad loves you very much!” 

“Right now I love the rink more than them. You know why? Because the rink is silent. It’s not yelling in my goddamn ear. She’s a beauty this year. Best it’s ever looked.” Your dad nodded, a slight grin building under the pain of his hangover. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Gregory.” Standing up out of his chair, David grabbed your dad by the shoulders, giving him another hardy slap on the back before heading back to the front door, returning with his skates, hockey gloves, and stick. “You guys ready? Charlie and Olivia should be here soon too.” 

“Only if you’re ready for me to kick your ass.” You smirked, joining David as you stood, leaving Javi still sitting in his chair, looking utterly terrified. “C’mon!” Outstretching your arm towards Javi, encouraging him to stand up with you and your brother, he slowly pushed himself out of his chair, wearily looking back and forth between the both of you. 

“I don’t uh- I don’t have any skates?” Javi grimaced, trying to think of an excuse for the inevitable embarrassment he knew he would be subjected to if anything other than shoes were on his feet. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not getting out of this one so easily, Jav. If there is one thing my parents will never get rid of, it’s skates, and I’m pretty sure we have at least one pair in every size known to man in the basement. You two go change, I’ll grab the gear.” David snickered, sneaking his way between you two towards the basement stairs, loudly pounding down each step. 

“Not so loud David, Jesus! Your feet are made of fucking cement!” Greg sighed, laying face down into the table, you and Javi trying to contain your laughter as you headed back upstairs to change. 

The forecast for today called for sunny skies and just below freezing- the type of day that was made for outdoor fun in the snow that came few and far between in Chicago’s cold and cloudy winters. Shuffling through your bag, you pulled out your thickest pair of leggings, along with a heavy heather gray hoodie, topped with one of the 3 Blackhawks jerseys still stashed at home in your childhood bedroom and your favorite Blackhawks beanie that had gone untouched since you had moved to Texas, not feeling the need to bring warm weather accessories with you. 

“Do you put the coat on over the jersey?” Javi asked, shuffling through his suitcase, looking for another layer to add over his long sleeved shirt, trying to brace himself for more than 30 seconds out in the cold. 

“Nope, no coat. It’s a balmy 29 today, Jav, that’s no jacket weather. Welcome to a midwest winter, babe.” You laughed, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss as you readjusted your hat on your head, making your way out the door, letting out a squeal as Javi brought his hand down to your ass, giving it a playful slap. 

“You look fucking hot in that jersey.” Javi bit down on his lip as he looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow at you as you whipped your head back around. 

“If you think trying to butter me up with compliments is gonna get you out of putting skates on, you are sadly mistaken, Mr. Peña.” You giggled as Javi pulled you back in, wrapping his arms around your hips, planting another soft kiss on your lips, his hand cupping your face. 

“A man can try, can’t he?” 

“C’mon, goofball, it’s hockey time.” 

“Auntie Bear, Auntie Bear! Watch me do my backwards skating! Watch, watch! I’m getting so good!” Olivia squealed as she watched you and Javi make your way out to the backyard through the path that had been plowed from the house to the homemade ice rink, which, all credit to your dad, looked better than any year you could remember it before. You and Javi clapped and cheered as you watched Olivia clumsily glide backwards across the ice, making it about halfway before plopping on her bottom and falling. “Oops! Okay, Auntie Bear, pretend you didn’t see that part!” 

“Nice job, Missy! You’re gonna be skating faster than me soon!” You grinned, sitting yourself down on the worn picnic table that had been your family’s skate tying station for more than 2 decades, pulling out your skates, gloves and stick, along with the pair David had picked out for Javi. You kicked off your boots, slipping on your skates and yanking the laces, the familiar squeeze of your foot inside for the first time in over a year bringing a childlike grin to your face. “You want any help?” You asked, looking over at Javi, unconfidently lacing up the rest of his skates. 

“I can help you, Uncle Javi! I’m helping Bri Bri learn how to skate since she doesn’t know how to either!” Olivia shouted from the other side of the rink, waving her arms at the two of you. 

“Just need help not getting my pride bruised by a 6 year old who can skate better than I can.” Javi sighed, pressing his hands on his thighs as he stood up, trying his best not to wobble at the lack of stability. “You have to promise not to laugh at me…” Taking another step towards the rink, Javi mumbled under his breath, looking over at you. 

“I promise… To only laugh a little.” You smirked, speeding off across the ice, using your stick to grab one of the pucks from the pile that had formed along the edges of the snowbank walls. Dragging it along the frozen surface, you weaved it between Charlie’s legs without him even noticing, speeding past him before he even had a chance to stop you. David, who could now see you coming, put himself in the way of your path, holding his stick out to try and snatch your puck for the rest of your lap. Cradling it in your stick, you shuffled the black rubber back and forth, giving it a backhanded nudge, spinning around and taking the puck with you as you flew past your brother. Making your way around the last curve of the rink, you swooped around, facing yourself towards the net, drew your stick back and slapped the puck into the goal. 

“She shoots, she scores! Go Auntie Bear!” Olivia squealed, pumping her fists in the air as you skated back around to grab her, hoisting her up off the ice, giving her a little shake before gently setting her down and making your way back to Javi. 

“Showoff…” Javi laughed, trying his best to roll his eyes despite his genuine admiration for how impressed he was with what he had just watched you do. 

“Sorry, I’m done now. Gotta put everyone back in their place now that I’m home.” You smirked, giving Javi a little shrug as you nodded towards the rink. “C’mon-I promise I won’t laugh at you, I swear. At least for the first part.” 

You weren’t sure if it was Javi trying to muster every ounce of athletic talent that he had in his body, or simply the fact that he was just as stubborn as you (even if he wouldn’t admit it), but after only a few wipeouts (and some helpful tips from Olivia), Javi making his way around on skates well enough to not be completely embarrassed for his first time on the ice. It didn’t take long for skating to turn into grabbing fist fulls of snow from the edge of the rink, pressing them into snowballs and hurling them at one another, all of you slipping and sliding across the ice in laughter and hysterics from your battle. After a quick break inside for hot chocolate, Olivia had somehow roped you and Javi back outside to build a snowman before she went home, insisting that her Uncle Javi needed to learn how to make one since he never had before.  

3 hefty balls of snow and several carefully selected sticks later, your snowman was nearly complete, You, Javi and Olivia taking a step back to admire your work, assessing what final touches needed to be added before you could call your project completed. “Alright, cutie pie. What else does our snowman need so we can finish?” You asked, shaking Olivia’s shoulders as she took her mitten covered hands to scratch her head, deep in thought as she analyzed your creation. 

“Hmmmmm. It still needs eyes… and a nose… and a name!” Olivia beamed, looking up at you and Javi. 

“Well, I think we can find some rocks for eyes, and I bet you can ask Grandma and Grandpa for an extra reindeer carrot for the nose, and we’ll let you decide on the name, Little Miss!” You smiled as Javi draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer to press a little kiss onto your beanie while Olivia had turned back around to gaze at her snowman. 

“I think… I think that his name should be Uncle Patrick! So that way he can still be here because I bet he misses playing hockey, and he’s really close to the ice rink. Do you think he misses us, Auntie Bear?” 

Over the past year, you had learned to deal with the comments and questions about your brother with less pain and suffering and more acceptance and forgiveness. Unfortunately, there was nothing from the past year that could have prepared you for the sucker punch that was your sweet, 6 year old niece, who didn’t even fully grasp the concept of death, let alone the reason why he was gone, to ask if your dead brother missed her. You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself before you spoke, fighting back the tears that had instantly begun welling in your eyes and pit growing in your stomach. 

“I uh- yeah, um. Yeah. I do think he misses us, Olivia.” You mustered everything you could to spread somewhat of a smile as Olivia turned back around towards you and Javi, a puzzled, sad look growing across her little face. 

“Then why did he have to leave if he misses us? Did he not love us?” 

You weren’t quite sure how a tiny voice had left such a big hole in your heart. You tried to find any words to answer her innocent question, racking your brain for ways to provide any explanation that you could rationalize to her, or yourself. 

“Well, um…” You paused, taking a moment to get down on her level, almost as if to try and find a way to buy yourself more time to formulate your response. “Um- Olivia- Your Uncle Patrick… he was really sick. Not in a way that you get sick when you have a cold, or the flu, but sick in a way that makes your brain and your heart really sad. He did love us. He loved us a lot. But sometimes- sometimes when people are sick like how Uncle Patrick was- It… it doesn’t matter how much they love you, or you love them. Their heart hurts so much that they can’t see it. It- it hurt his heart less to leave than to stay.” 

A bitter silence hung in the air, the wetness from your eyes cold against your cheeks from the sting of the December breeze. You could feel the weight in your heart tugging towards the pit of your stomach from your painful admittance. You took a shaky breath, waiting for someone to say something, anything, before the hurt in your own heart built enough for you to lose your composure and burst into tears. You could almost hear the gears in Olivia’s little brain turning, her head gently tilted to the side, leaving you holding your breath as you waited for her response. She let out a little sigh, staring at the ground before staring back up at you. 

“I miss him, Auntie Bear.” 

“I miss him too, Olivia.” 

Reaching her arms up, Oliva wrapped herself around your waist, tightly hugging your hip, pressing her face into your jacket. The two of you stood there for a moment, tears welling in your eyes as you engulfed your niece in your grasp.

“Olivia! Time to go, munchkin! Momma’s gonna be mad if we’re late for dinner!” Charlie yelled, peeking his head out of the doorwall to the back porch, the glow of the house gently shining into the snow against the slowly darkening sky. 

“Okay, Daddy!” Olivia called back, lifting her head up from against your coat where her face had been resting. “Bye Auntie Bear! Love you!” 

“Uh-yeah, yeah, bye Cutie. Love you, too.” You stammered, choking back your tears, staring at the unfinished snowman in front of you. 

“Olivia, why don’t uh, why don't I take you inside, okay?” Javi chimed in, gently wrapping his arm around Olivia’s shoulder, ushering her towards the house, shooting you a sympathetic smile, trying to find a way to give you a moment to yourself. The two of them made their way back to the house, stomping through the snow as you were left alone, silent sobs heaving from your chest. The longer you looked at the three snowballs piled on top of each other, the wetter your face became, the unfinished piles of snow, just as unfinished as the life Patrick could have had ahead of him. So caught up in your grief and tears, you hadn’t heard Javi trudge his way back, immediately wrapping his arms around you as soon as he could reach you, holding you tightly as you sobbed into his coat. 

“Why’d he have to go? Why did it have to be him? It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. I miss him so much, Javi.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” Javi sighed, pulling you in closer, pressing you against his chest, letting you soak his jacket with your tears until you didn’t have any left, your breaths becoming slow and deep as you finally looked back up at him with your red, wet eyes. 

“Does it ever get easier? Does it ever stop hurting so much?” Your voice trembled, sniffing between each word, trying to pull yourself together. Javi paused for a moment, letting out a long exhale, his hot breath fogging against the cold December air. 

“It’ll- it’ll always hurt. I don’t know if it ever gets easier, but you learn how to live with it. But if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that being mad about it only makes it hurt more.” 

“Well I am mad at him, ‘cause he’s a fucking idiot.” You managed to let a small huff of laughter out between your tears, bringing your hand up to wipe your face, cheeks red and wet from your crying and the cold. “Sorry, I just… Olivia hasn’t talked about him a lot since he died, it- I was trying really hard not to think about it. Tomorrow will be one year since he’s been gone. It kinda all just hit me at once. Stupid fucking snowman.” 

 “Osita, you don’t have to apologize. It’s okay, baby. And hey, I think whoever made those snowballs did pretty good fucking job.” He smirked, giving you a little shake in his grasp, as the two of you looked back at the snowman.

“Yeah, he did alright.” You let out a little laugh, poking fun at Javi’s work before turning as you heard David’s footsteps clunking his way through the snow, making his way towards you. 

“Olivia make you cry about the stupid snowman, too?” David sighed, gesturing at your messy wet face before nodding back at the snowman, the 3 of you silently laughing to yourselves. “God, I miss that stupid motherfucker.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

“You missed out on the best rink Dad’s ever made, shithead. Your loss. You’re lucky your niece is nice enough to still want to include you. Serves you right she left you with skinny ass twig arms and an unfinished face.” David huffed, playfully kicking a pile of snow at the snowman, crossing his arms over his chest. “Jesus, I can’t believe I’m shit talking my dead brother beyond the grave through a fucking pile of snow.” 

“Like he wouldn’t do the same for you?” You smirked, giving David a punch on the arm as he rolled his eyes at you, shoving you back with enough force to make you stumble, toppling you over into a laughing heap in the snow. Sitting up, you looked over at the hockey rink, shimmering in the overcast of the porch lights, covered in the pucks and sticks that had been left from earlier. You smiled, pushing yourself out of the snow, making your way over to the ice and picking up one of the hockey sticks, dragging it back with you before propping it up against the frame of the snowman to make it look like he was holding it. “Can’t say we didn’t at least try to include you, jackass.” 

You let out a long exhale, nodding to yourself, a small smile drawn between your lips as you looked back at David and Javi, giving them a reassuring grin before turning around to head towards the house. Giving their own silent nod to the snowman, David and Javi followed behind, the 3 of you trudging through the white, fluffy snow, crunching under your boots.

The rest of your time at home, you couldn’t help but find yourself peeking out the back porch window, a silent smile creeping across your cheeks as you watched gentle white flakes fall on the snowman sitting in your yard, hockey stick resting in its twig hand as it sat next to your rink. It was a sight that somehow hurt and healed you at the same time. It pained you to know that a half-assed snowman in your backyard would be the closest you’d ever get to having your brother around again- that just like him, one day, as the weather turned, your snowman would start to fade away, melt into the earth, and disappear, never to be seen again.

But, just as seasons come and go, bringing change with each new month, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow warm as you looked out at the rounded piles of snow stacked on one another- Patrick’s passing had forced you to change, to grow, to become a stronger person than you were a year ago. Change that had started off as fear and heartache, that somehow turned into the best thing that could have ever happened to you. Change that helped you find the love of your life when you least expected it. While Javi could never replace Patrick, his presence in your life, and your family’s life, had filled a void that all of you didn’t know you needed until he was in it. And while you’d never stop wishing you could have changed the end to your brother’s story, you knew he’d be smiling looking down on you, knowing the end of his story helped to change yours for the better.

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@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd @deppydelta @beware-my-thorns

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 5

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: swearing, angst, food, fluff, not edited word count: 2.3k authors note: it's my bday tmw and i am going out of town for the weekend so i wanted to get this posted!! also, i have no idea how pr management works so i def got everything wrong so pls don't yell at me lol i feel like this chapter is just like a roller-coaster that went off the tracks and blew up and someones trying to put it back together with tape from the dollar store so im sorry but i hope yall like it anyway and don't hate me pls <3 send your thoughts or come yell at me about this story bc I LOVE hearing from you guys!! It feeds my writing soul. thank u all for the love on this story so far and lmk if you wanna be added to my taglist. also thinking about doing some smau for this fic and wondering if you guys have any ideas or suggestions?

if you asked to be added to the taglist and didn't get tagged it's cause you didn't show up when i searched for you! so shoot me a msg and we can figure it out. also if you want to be added or taken off the taglist please let me know <3

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You didn’t think the situation with Mat’s statement could get any worse. You were already being pestered by your mom, your friends and even other parents at the day camps Nora attended. Mostly everyone knew that it was true that Mat was her father at that point so the statement caused questions to rise. Ignoring everybody’s opinions about it was easy but six simple words from Nora were what broke you. 

“I thought Mat was my daddy,” she said softly while eating breakfast one morning. She had been quiet since the day before but it continued when she woke up the next morning. You thought maybe she was just moody and tired but it ended up being much more than that.

It took you a minute to answer, trying to figure out where she might have heard or been told that. It wasn’t that surprising that she might have gotten the impression that he was her dad considering how much time Mat had been spending with the two of you or she overheard a conversation. Kids are very perceptive but you couldn’t see how anyone would directly tell her about the public statement and you had been very careful about what you said around Nora and told everyone else to do the same. 

Apparently someone didn’t get the memo. 

You had two options. You could lie to Nora about what was going on or you could explain it in the best way you could to her. Lying to your daughter was the last thing you wanted to do but figuring out the easiest way to explain it so she would understand was hard. How were you supposed to explain that yes, Mat is her daddy but he was a fucking idiot and told the world that she’s not even though he said he wanted to be in her life. It would have been so simple to take the easy way out but it wouldn’t have been fair to Nora so after she finished her breakfast, you sat her down. 

“You’re feeling a little confused, huh?” you asked, watching her fiddle with a loose string on her sweater. 

She nodded, still not looking up at you and not offering her thoughts. It was a bit alarming because she was usually a chatterbox, even when she was upset about something. She would let you know exactly what was wrong. 

“Who told you Mat was your daddy?” 

She finally looked up at you, and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes made you both angry and upset. You were ready to find whoever told her and scream at them but her answer stunned you.

“I heard you talking to Jaxy,” she whispered. “I wasn’t trying to listen but I was coming out to get some water and you said that you were mad at Mat.” 

She didn’t elaborate on what else she may have heard which was unnerving because you probably said a lot of things about Mat that night when Jax came over to talk to you about it. You hoped she didn’t stay long enough for your breakdown where you had cried for thirty straight minutes. 

She sniffled, wiping a couple tears away. “I don’t understand.”

Your heart broke but you still struggled with how to explain everything to her. Telling her in the beginning was probably a better idea but you were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings, you ignored the person who should have been your number one priority the entire time. 

“Mat is your daddy, baby,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

I’m sorry I kept you a secret.

“How come everyone is saying he’s not?” 

Mat should have been the one to answer this question because it was his doing, but you hadn’t spoken to him since the night he was at your apartment and the two of you argued. He had texted you the day after but you ignored it because you didn’t know what you would say when given the chance.

“Well, sometimes people make mistakes and Mat said something he shouldn’t have,” you explained, hoping it was enough and it seemed to be enough at first but then she hugged you tightly.

“I love you mama,” she said and before you could reply, she quietly asked, “Do you think Mat loves me?” 

“I’m sure he does,” you told her and it took everything in you not to cry. 

. . .

Liana: dinner at our place @ 6. bring nora and don’t be late!!!

You’re tempted to decline the request and just stay home but you’ve been promising Liana and Nadia that you would actually visit instead of dropping Nora off and leaving like you’ve been doing. Avoiding Mat is becoming increasingly difficult. It’s been two weeks since he released the statement and a week since your conversion with Nora. She’s been asking a lot of questions, ones that you didn’t plan on having to answer so soon. You expected her to be angry with you for not telling her but she took your confirmation that Mat’s her dad with ease. 

So it didn’t come as a surprise when her first question was whether Mat would be at the Barzal household for this dinner. You hadn’t bothered to ask Liana, mainly because you knew it would definitely impact your decision to agree to go. 

“Did you know that Zoe’s mom and dad aren’t together either?” She says during the drive to the Barzal’s. 

You do know this but you humor her. “Really?”

“Yup. Zoe said she spends weekends with her dad and stays with her mommy during the week,” she explains and then moves on to a different topic. You’re a little curious why she would talk about her friends’ living arrangements but when you finally pull into the driveway, your question is answered. 

“Do I have to stay at Mat’s on the weekend?” She asks and if you hadn’t already parked the car, you would have hit the brakes. 

“No,” you say a little too quickly and sharply because she frowns. 

“How come?”

You don’t answer her question right away, getting out of the car and walking around to the other side. She’s already unbuckling her seatbelt by the time you open the door and she’s still frowning. 

“Just no, Nora.”

“But Zoe does!”

You can’t explain custody agreements to a seven-year-old so you say the first excuse you can think of. 

“He doesn’t live here,” you say, taking her hand and begin walking towards the house. She’s dragging her feet, clearly not happy with your response. 

“Do I have to call him dad?” 

“No.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause,” you say, stopping at the door and turning to her. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you the look that says she won’t let up until you give her an answer she wants.

“Do you want to call him dad?” 

She pauses, looking down at the ground and frowning. After a moment she shakes her head. 

“No, but Miss. Jones says you’re not supposed to call your mommy and daddy by their first names ‘cause it’s disrespectful.” 

“It’s not up to Miss. Jones,” you say gently. “This is new, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

After a moment, she mutters a quiet “okay,” and then: “do you think Nadia has ice-cream for dessert?”

“Guess we’ll have to go inside and ask,” you reply and raise your fist to knock on the door but it swings open before you can. Liana is waiting on the other side with a big smile on her face. Nora runs straight to her and giggles when the older girl picks her up and swings her around. 

“C’mon in,” Liana says, ushering you inside. So far there’s no sign of Mat so some of the tension leaves your body. After putting both yours and Nora’s shoes aside, you make your way to the kitchen. Nadia is puttering around, juggling a million things but she still smiles softly when she sees you. 

“Can I help with anything?” 

“You can keep me company,” she says and points to a chair. “Sit down and update me on what you’ve been up to.”

You know that you can’t argue with her so you sit and chat idly with her. She doesn’t bring up anything to do with Mat and you’re not sure what to think about it. You almost slip up and ask if he’s going to be here for dinner but decide not to. You haven’t seen him around since you arrived, so he’s probably out. Maybe with a girl. 

Not that you care, obviously. 

Mike eventually pokes his head in the kitchen to greet you and ask how you’ve been. He offers to set the table but Nadia shoos him out of the kitchen, rolling her eyes fondly. 

“Don’t get married, they’re nothing but trouble,” she jokes but there’s a smile on her face that lingers even after her husband leaves. You always admired their relationship, and were certain that you and Mat would be like it some day but it wasn’t in the cards. 

Soon, Nadia calls everyone to dinner. Nora immediately asks why Mat isn’t here and there’s an awkward silence until Liana breaks it.

“He’s busy,” she tells Nora and that must be enough because she just nods and starts eating dinner. Nothing else is said about Mat but just as you’re all finishing dessert, you hear the door open and close and there’s only one person you figure it will be.  

Mat walks into the dining room, clearly caught off guard by your presence. Nora hops off her chair and darts over to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and starts chatting excitedly. He’s trying to give her all his attention but his eyes keep flickering to you. 

When Nadia and Mike get up to start clearing the table and Liana asks Nora if she wants to go watch a movie, you realize that the three of them planned this. It’s almost like you’re kids again, fighting about something stupid and needing his parents to help fix the problem. 

Mat looks at you a little helplessly when the room clears and it’s just the two of you. There’s no way you can yell at him with his family and Nora in the next room and you realize that was also probably planned. 

“Can we talk?” he asks and you really don’t want to, but you realize that eventually you’re going to have to talk to him so you nod. You follow him out the back door and the two of you sit on the porch steps in silence until you finally break it.

“Why didn’t you come to me about what PR wanted to do? We could have figured out something together.”

He shrugs, looking at the ground. “I didn’t think to ask you about it. I just wanted to fix everything before it got complicated. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” you mutter. “That’s something you’re great at. You don’t think before you do anything.” 

You jump when he stands up suddenly and turns to face you. He’s angry but so are you.

“No, fuck that. You can’t just expect me to do everything right, when a month ago, all I had to worry about was hockey. I can’t be number one dad overnight! You didn’t even tell me about her for six years!” 

You’re a bit taken off guard by his sudden outburst but you can do anger too.

“That is the exact reason I didn’t tell you about her, Mat. Hockey is always going to come first in your life,” you snap. “And I didn’t ask you to be a number one dad, all I asked was that you be sure you wanted to be in her life before you committed to anything because this is exactly what I was worried about.” 

He falters a little, probably not expecting you to return the anger. 

“I didn’t want to post what they asked me to,” he says, sounding defeated. “But I didn’t know how to say no. When PR tells you to jump, you jump.”

You’ve no idea how public relations in hockey works, it’s possible that they would have posted the statement without asking Mat but you’re so damn angry. You’re angry but you don’t know who you’re even supposed to be mad at now. 

“You should have come to me,” you say again. “That’s how co-parenting works, you know.”

His mouth twitches. “That’s what we were doing?”

You can feel the anger slowly dissipating. Mat’s shoulders aren’t as tense and he plops back down on the steps so you sit next to him, letting your shoulders and knees knock against his.

“Well, you are her dad,” you admit. “And she is very concerned about her future living arrangements.”

He looks at you a little confused but there’s a small smile spreading across his face. 

“Does she know?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “She’s smarter than you expect sometimes.”

“She gets that from you,” he says, poking your arm.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Well she had to get her brains from someone.”

He huffs but it sounds more like a laugh. You watch him look at the ground, brows furrowed and deep in thought.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

Here’s the thing that a lot of people don’t know about Mat: he doesn’t forgive himself easily. It’s something you learned the hard way when you were younger and dating. 

So you know he will beat himself up over this until you forgive him. 

“Yeah, but we both did.” You bump your knee against his until he looks up at you. “We can fix it, but we have to do it together.”

He holds out his pinky finger. ”Co-parenting, right?”  

You hook your finger around his and nod, letting yourself relax for the first time in weeks. It’s going to take time, hard work, and you’re both going to have to learn how to trust and communicate better again but you're sure you’ll get there.

“Together,” you agree.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @alilstressyandlotdepressy @teapartydreams @keiva1000

[immeasurablesaladagere]

love the headcanonss!! Could you write a fic about viktor getting upset over dysphoria and shutting down please?? :)) no pressure, just when you have time!! Thanks salad!!

Here you go! We're ignoring all of canon timeline for this to make sense, I just want them to be getting along and in the mansion so shhhh

-----

Word Count: 1136

Summery: Viktor is regressed and struggling with dysphoria. Klaus helps by giving him the boy-est of boy experiences: playing in the mud.

-----

Today was an icky day, Viktor decided as he looked at his reflection in the mirror of his bedroom. He knew he should cover it up with a blanket, that’s what big-him did when looking in the mirror made him feel bad, but he couldn’t help but stare at himself. He had woken up regressed and floaty, so he got into his comfy little clothes; a brown sweater with a puppy on it, black shorts, and mis-matching white and blue socks. He didn’t feel so floaty anymore. His legs looked too big in the shorts and he didn’t wanna wear his binder because it hurt, so he could see the faint outline off his chest under the sweater.

He didn’t look like a boy. Even his face didn’t look like a boy’s face. He didn’t really look like a kid either, he looked like a tired adult like Diego and Allison. His haircut helped a little, but it wasn’t good enough. 

Other people probably wouldn’t think he was a boy if they saw him. That made something in his chest hurt. He didn’t really know why, because when he was actually little he didn’t care about that, but it made him sad now. Did his siblings think he was a boy when they saw him? The thought of them not thinking he was a boy made him feel even worse, because he loved them and he cared what they thought way more than random people. 

He needed an answer. He tore his eyes away from the mirror and walked down the hallway, scanning doors for anyone who might be around. His sibling’s rooms were all open and empty, which meant they were either staying somewhere else or having breakfast in the kitchen, so he decided to stop there next. 

The rest of the mansion seemed to be empty on his way down to the kitchen, which made him feel a little nervous. What if there was no one to look after him or talk to? He supposed he could talk to Pogo or Mama Grace, but they wouldn’t understand him. Pogo was too old for that and Mama Grace was a robot, so she didn’t know.

To his relief, someone was home. Sitting with their legs swung up on the kitchen table and eating a piece of plain toast was Klaus, reading something on their phone.

“Um… Klaus?”

Klaus looked up from their phone, took one look at his outfit, and gave him a big grin. “Well good morning, kiddo! Wake up small?”

Viktor nodded. He stared at the floor and fiddled with the hem of his sweater. “Klaus, I… have a question.” 

Klaus turned to give them their full attention, smile turning into a curious look. “Sure buddy, go ahead. I mean, as long as it’s not about the Birds and the Bees I—“

“Do you guys actually think I’m a boy?” He blurted. He could barely bring himself to look at Klaus’ reaction. They looked surprised, and Viktor didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Hopefully it wasn’t bad. He bit his bottom lip to stop it from wobbling.

After a moment of silence Klaus snapped out of their stunned daze. “Oh buddy, of course we do! What mean thoughts brought this on, honey?”

Klaus seemed like they were telling the truth, but he still didn’t feel better. “I don’t… feel like a real boy. I don’t look like one, an’ I don’t really do boy stuff.”

Klaus got up from the table and bent down in front of him. “Well now that’s just not true! I’m looking at you and I see the handsomest boy in the world. And what’s “boy stuff”?”

Viktor thought about it for second, then shrugged sheepishly. “I dunno… playin’ with cars an’ in dirt or something?”

“Playing in dirt, hm?” Klaus rubbed their chin dramatically, like they were thinking really hard. “I have an idea,” They said with a cheeky grin, “How about you get your swim trunks on and a shirt you’re okay with getting dirty, then come meet me in the courtyard, ok?”

“Oh, um… Ok.”

-

When he went out into the courtyard, dressed in his fishy swim trunks and black rashguard, the sun was bright and warm. It had been sad and rainy for the last few days, so Viktor was glad to see the it come out. Klaus was dressed in their own swim trunks and had a sprinkler and hose in their arms and a big bag of dirt at their feet.

“What are we doing?” Viktor asked curiously.

“You’ll see! Patience, grasshopper.�� They said. They connected the hose to the nearby faucet and turned it on, creating a little river in the grass. Next, they grabbed the bag of dirt and tore it open. Viktor’s eyes widened as they dumped the entire bag onto the ground. Were they allowed to do that?

Klaus began spraying the pile with the hose, turning the loose dirt into a soupy puddle. Once they were satisfied they connected the hose to the sprinkler. “You, my friend, are about to experience the boy-est of all activities! Playing in the mud!” 

Viktor shrieked as the sprinkler sprayed him with cold hose water and he scrambled away through the muddy puddle, getting it all over his feet. He stared at them, then up at Klaus. Was this okay?

“That’s the spirit!” They encouraged, and to Viktor’s shock, they dropped back-first into the mud without hesitation. “C’mon little bro! Join me, you know you want to!”

He smiled. It did look kinda fun. He inched closer to the puddle and squeaked in surprise as Klaus’ muddy hand grabbed his own and pulled him in with them. He gasped as the cold mud splashed all over him, getting onto his hands, legs, face, everywhere. 

A small smile grew on his face, because he was being so bad right now. Dad would have yelled at him for making a mess, for being so unladylike. The thought made him feel like he was full of electricity. He felt so free, so happy, sitting in a puddle of muck in the courtyard. He looked up at Klaus, grinning widely.

“Mud fight!” He cried, and splashed a handful of mud onto them.

“Oh, you’re on kiddo!”

-

Viktor didn’t know how long they spent outside splashing each other and making mud pies with rocks and leaves, but by the time they were finished they were both covered in mud from head-to-toe. It was in his hair, in his ears, under his nails, and he couldn’t have been happier.

“Alright, quick! Get in the shower before Pogo catches us!” Klaus hurried, and Viktor ran off with a giggle, leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind him.

“…Before Pogo catches us doing what, Master Klaus?”

[song-witch]

Need Me Like I Want You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 1,405

Warnings: Unspecified age gap (Nat is older).

Summary: Nat and Wanda had been going on strong for over a month, but will a little secret ruin what they have?

Part Two Part Three

A/N: I hope this has as many twists as I think it does.

“I have to go.” Wanda tried to look stern, but failed miserably, easy giggles falling from her lips. She was only half serious; she knew she had other obligations, but there was always a part of her that wanted to stay with Nat. Those obligations outweighed Natasha by all means, though, which meant she had to go. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t be back, however.

“Tash.” Wanda laughed as she continued to nip gently at the end of her jaw, tilting her head back just slightly. She knew she should leave, needed to leave, but the woman was so addicting. She was glad she took D.A.R.E. as a kid, because she was more than certain she would’ve been addicted to far worse things than a woman. Where addiction stopped and love started, she had no clue.

“I don’t hear you complaining, baby.” Natasha murmured against the younger's neck, sucking softly at the skin there. Despite how much she wanted to cover her in hickies, she knew Wanda had a hard line at where they were, aka, anything visible to anyone but them were off limits. The most she could do with the woman being fully clothed was nip a little here and suck a little there. Enough to tease, too little to mark.

“I-” Wanda was cut short with a gasp, bringing her hands up to gently press against the woman’s shoulders. It was a mix between pushing her away and holding on to something to stabilize herself. They had only been together for barely a month and a half, and the older knew all of her turn ons. And offs, for that matter.

“I need to go.” As difficult as it was, Wanda pulled back, creating space between them as she stepped back. As much as it pained her to do so, she knew from… past experiences that it would be the only way the redhead would let her go. And even then, the woman would still try to find a way to get her to stay. She was insatiable to say the least. “I have class in the morning.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Natasha smirked, her right hand reaching up to cup the younger’s cheek, simultaneously pulling her closer while leaning against the door frame. It was stated as a question, though she knew the answer. She greedily dragged her eyes up and down the woman’s body, the promise of another night hanging between them. Wanda smiled shyly, leaning into the touch despite her earlier actions, biting at her lip.

“Yes.” Wanda whispered, leaning forward even more. They were kissing once again, soft and passionate instead of needy and wanton. It was moments like this that Wanda wanted, yearned for even. She begrudgingly pulled back, holding the straps of her crossbody to stop herself from reaching for the redhead. Their lips smacked as Wanda pulled back, smiling once again.

She couldn’t not smile when she was with Nat. It was as impossible as trying to resist her. Especially when she was dressed in nothing but shorts and a thin tank top, her hair messy and makeup somehow not smeared. Wanda knew she looked like a hot mess, emphasis on the mess. Her sweater was probably on backwards and she knew her hair was sticking up in places it definitely wasn’t when she had gotten there. She would just have to fix herself in her car.

“Don’t miss me too much, baby.” Natasha mumbled against her lips, kissing her one last time before turning her away. It was hard to resist smacking her ass as she walked by, though she did. Wanda hated it, had some bad experience with some ex who was obsessed with doing it. Nat respected that, wouldn’t do it if that’s what she wanted.

“I’ll try not to.” Wanda laughed, throwing a smile over her shoulder.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she continued walking, knowing the woman was watching her. She would watch her until she pulled out, would text her when she was supposed to be home to make sure she was okay. It was weird. She couldn’t remember how good it felt to be wanted and yet… she felt wrong for it. Felt bad for putting herself first for once. She wouldn’t let that stop her, though. She deserved something good for once, and she’d be damned if she fucked it up. When she fucked it up.

She knew she couldn’t think like that though, and instead got into her car, fixing herself just a little in the mirror before pulling away from the redhead’s house. It might as well have been a mansion, easily double her own apartment she shared with her brother. It was almost uncanny how she, a college junior with barely enough money to support herself, was dating a woman with more than enough to support an entire family.

The worst part was how often Natasha wanted to spoil her, to buy her new lingerie or dinner or whatever else. And Wanda always turned it down. She couldn’t just take her money like that, even if it was more than useful. She felt guilty doing it and she couldn’t explain why, just that she did.

*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*

Wanda had contemplated pulling through some fast food joint, grab something for herself for dinner before going home. She knew Nat had snuck at least a 20 into her bag, if not more. There were other more important things she needed to buy with that cash, even if she hadn’t asked for or wanted it in the first place. Within twenty minutes she had pulled up to her apartment, parking on the street before texting Nat that she had safely made it home. It was nearly eight by the time she had made her way inside, tugging her backpack and purse in with her.

“Pietro? I’m home!” Wanda called into the unusually quiet house, tucking her shoes into the little cubby and her purse and jacket onto the hooks. It wasn’t much, but anything to keep the place an utter disaster, she’d do. Her backpack was hung over one of the dining table chairs. The kitchen was empty except for dirty dishes and take out wrappers, no doubt from her twin while she was gone.

“Living room!” Was all she got in return, leading her toward said room. Pietro was sitting on the couch, controller clutched in his hand and headphones pulled over his ears, clearly in the middle of a match. It was some superhero game, or maybe just some duty call or something. Whatever it was, he was clearly in the middle of a game, though he wasn’t yelling like normal.

“Were they good?” Wanda approached the pack-n-play next to the couch, cooing softly at the babies situated in it. The older of the two was seemingly grasping at his feet, though he was more focused on stuffing his knuckles into his mouth. The younger was content to shake his pacifier around.

Pietro mumbled something along the lines of “they’re babies” while she reached to pick up Tommy, situating him in her left arm before reaching for Billy. Both were happy to see her, gummy smiles pulling at their lips as she spoke sweet nothings to them. They were easy babies, happy to be around her, hardly putting up a fuss when unnecessary. It made things easier for her.

“You’re watching them from ten to noon tomorrow, right?” Wanda asked her brother as she continued towards her room, bouncing lightly with the infants. He waved her off, another mumbled confirmation as he continued to play his game, no other care in the world. She took that as the only yes she’d get, closing her door behind her. “Your uncle is crazy, you know that?” Wanda cooed to the twins, who only made noise back at her, which she took as an agreement.

The twins were fed, bathed and put to bed by ten, the thought of her day still fresh in her mind. It took everything in her to go to bed, to put her phone down and not call Nat in nothing but her pajamas. She needed to go to bed, though, if she wanted to even attempt to get to class on time. So she set her phone down, already dreaming of yet another night with the redhead, knowing she’d be up in a few hours to feed to twins.

[cult-of-the-eye]

So I had this idea that when Martin gets mad at someone, he represses it and ends up being even nicer to them. It ended up being slightly longer than I thought it would be lol.

Content warnings - slight mention of martin's mum being ill, mental health issues and the effects of trauma are explored, a lot of self-hatred and general angst but a hopeful ending, hurt/comfort's angsty cousin

Martin K Blackwood has never heralded himself to be the most sane of people. He has never been under any illusion as to the effect of his childhood (and...other...situations) on his psyche. He has been to therapy, albeit once, in a short-lived, hugely embarrassing attempt during secondary school, where he was gently informed that his particular set of problems required more qualified areas of intervention. In short, as many times that people have helpfully informed him of his "fucked up"-ness, he has always been the one who was most aware of it. As a method of self-soothing, he tells himself that all poets are tortured. It's just for him, the poetry came before the torture. These thoughts, musings, poetic substance or whatever else, came to him whilst making tea for his boss, Jonathan Sims, one cloud-soaked afternoon.

It wasn't as if he meant it. Making someone tea after they had borderline reduced them to tears wasn't a conscious decision. His feet just moved, as of their own accord, out of Jon's office, one before the other, his trainers making soft thuds against the carpeted floor. Towards the kitchen. And if he's in the kitchen, he might as well make tea. And if he's making tea, he might as well make some for Jon. He put extra care into this mug - if he poured the water with steady hands then maybe he wouldn't start to cry. It would be silly to cry, he decided. This was a realisation that came as he stood still next the counter, watching the tea steep. It wasn't anyone's fault but his own that he cited the case wrong, he should've known. He should've been better at pretending to have a Masters degree in Parapsychology. Serves him right for lying. How could anyone have blamed Jon for shouting? It must seem like he's being inadequate on purpose. Some cruel joke being played on only him. So of course, he shouted. And of course, Martin cried. He expected heaving sobs, thundering through his whole body, as large and foreboding as the sky outside. Instead, they were sharp, singular and furious. How could he have known that he'd get a phone call from the hospital in the middle of the night saying that things had gotten worse? How could he have known that the citing method had changed? How could he have known that he would be saddled with the most inconsiderate, frustrating, bastard of a-

"Martin?"

Luck, it seemed could be added to the list of things Martin had never heralded himself to have. He hoped to whatever was up there, that he'd be wrong, for once. But he knew better than to hope, so he quickly shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes and took a small breath.

"Um, hi Jon, I...I was just, uh..."

"Making tea?" He offered.

Maybe inconsiderate was a tad hasty of him. He looked terrible. There was no way around it. His perfectly corporate office wear looked like it had been slept in for multiple days, the collars no longer perfectly ironed and creases running down his sweater vest. There was no tie and his hair fell out of the pristine up-do that he was sure took him hours to get right every morning. His face was haggard but more open than he was used to. It unnerved him slightly, to see the sharpness of his features microwaved into an artificial softness. It wasn't something he deserved. He had a knack for looking gift horses in their mouths. After all, he had contributed to those sleepless nights, his actions had probably driven Jon's hands frustratedly through his hair. And yet he was standing in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot.

He cleared his throat. He opened his mouth. He closed it. He opened his mouth again. He closed his mouth again. Martin could almost see the synapses firing in his brain, tiny little fireworks connecting dot after dot, trying to construct the most appropriate sentence for the situation. It took a while, but he got there.

"Martin. I came here to inform you that there was an error in the system. The citation method that you had used was in fact, the correct one. You may continue using that and I will have no issue."

Each word arrived stilted. It was as if he had written it out for some AI helper to read out loud and then repeated it back to said robot. Martin didn't mind, exactly, he was too busy processing what had actually been said to care about how he had said it.

"Was that an apology?"

Jon's face shifted immeasurably. It took a few seconds of awkward silence for him to realise that he was blushing. Immediately, Martin took note of all the signs, knowing that now that he'd seen it, he would never want to miss it again. The tips of his ears turned pink and his mouth twitched, as if he was desperately keeping down a vomit of facial expressions. The solid rock of anger was deep inside Martin and thankfully stopped him from regretting anything he had said. His veins turned to gravel, as he clasped and unclasped his hands by his side.

"I believe so.", came the answer. It did nothing to liquify the solidity in his veins, so out came another sentence that he would lie awake thinking about at night.

"Can I have a proper one?"

"I don't know what you mean, Martin."

The tea was cold, anyway. He had nothing left to lose.

"I want an apology, Jon. I take all of your criticisms on stride, no matter how much I think about how you could've said it in a nicer way or how you don't do this with Tim or Sasha or how I've been working my ass off, this whole time. I'm sorry the archives are way more disorganised than you thought they'd be and I'm sorry you're struggling but you shouldn't take that out on me."

"I'm not struggling, Martin."

He barked out a laugh. "Of course that's the bit you focus on."

Finally, he seemed to have touched a nerve. Adrenaline pumped through him, making him feel nauseous. Every bone in his body told him to stop talking, shut his mouth and grovel. Fix this. The words had been projecting out of his mouth, wriggling like sickly, pale maggots, but part of him wanted to keep talking until he was empty. Until he had no more words to throw. But it was in Jon's nature to ruin his plans. Just like he had ruined his promotion by being an ass. Just like he had ruined his ability to hate him by being just the right amount of kind.

"I'm sorry, Martin. I really am."

Martin had once been told by a therapist that he was using the word "should" to beat himself up. This was the very same therapist that had declared her lack of qualification in the first session, so he dismissed it. He thought of her as the "shoulds" flooded into his brain. One stood out from the rest, unable to be sharpened into the weapon he wanted. It shouldn't have been enough. He should have pushed for more of an apology, he should've asked for more kindness, but the fact of the matter was that it was enough. It was Jon and he was apologising. He knew he was going to take it, no matter how this conversation had gone. He knew it from the very first time he laid a cup of tea on his desk and had been barely acknowledged.

"Thank you, Jon."

Maybe he should return to therapy. Maybe he was fucked up. Maybe he was no longer the only one who knew that. Jon awkwardly shuffled off, leaving rubble where there once was a jumper-clad man. Martin did the only thing he knew how to do. He clicked on the kettle, to make another cup of tea.

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 2

Synopsis: its the Monday after, what will the meeting involve for the Doctor and y/n?

a/n: uhm idk how sustainable my current writing rampage is. But tadah. We're writing to make ourselves happy. Set in the pov of the reader. Thank you to all who reads.

The Thursday after your meeting with Professor Smith, you felt like you didn’t even want to work. You could have sat on that bench until the evening chill came and claimed you.

Much more agreeable than one of your appointments canceling on you. You really needed the extra 150 quid.

Friday came and went. Nothing but dead air on the phones. The bookings girl was apologetic and let you have half a puff off her joint.

Such was life.

You were itching to get the weekend over. There was a footie match on, so you expected the bare minimum and weren’t let down.

Guess you were shopping at Aldi again, and figuring out how much of your savings you could really chip away at.

Monday was cold and dreary, it slapped you awake with your alarm. Your financial worries were keeping your sleep restless.

Not that you already wouldn’t have been kept up.

Your first class of the morning was somber. It wasn’t as dazzling at Professor Smith’s. The lecturer lacked chutzpah. Showmanship. Just droned on about hum-drum statistics and their relationships on graphs. You felt yourself slipping into a stupor.

By the time the class ended, you had lost most of your fingernails and had bitten a sizable swell on your tongue.

You dragged yourself into the toilets and started fixing yourself up. You were so nervous and every time you saw that man you fought the urge to drown yourself in the Avon. The man was beyond entrancing. Everything he said drew you in. And his flourishes?

Hypnotic.

You fixed your make up, glitter you had from your usual rota had built itself up in the corner of your eyes , no matter how much hard scrubbing you’d do, it would be there until it was time to get back to work on Thursday evening. You only had one class on Fridays so you could easily take two shifts.

You applied some chap stick to soothe a newly-chewed hole in your lip.

You muffled a scream into the sleeves of your jumper. You really didn’t know what was getting into you. It felt like your entire brain was sliding both downwards and to the left out of your skull. Through your ear. You were beyond close to failing this term. The term had barely started, but you knew it wasn’t going well!

And right now, you couldn’t afford to mess up.

You cursed yourself for following his order of “So long as it’s your last.” With your cigarettes. You threw away the entire, barely depleted pack into the trash can near the bus stop immediately after your meeting.

That entire ten minutes left you giddy and thrown off.

You sprayed some perfume on you and took a deep breath before trudging your way down to his office.

You knocked tentatively.

“Ah, come in (y/n)!” He announced.

His office was warm. Dynamic. He had an electric guitar perched on the wall. Overcrowded. There was so much to take it

Warm.

When so much of the university was drafty and got worse on days with bad weather. His office felt safe. Like somewhere there was an invisible fireplace roaring. It was more than comfortable. It was cozy.

You plunked your bag across the shoulder of the chair that faced the desk and started trying to drag out your notebook for his class.

He waved you down.

“No need for that, just yet.” He smiled easy. His holey sweater layered with a tee-shirt and hoodie matched it. The usual blazer he donned for lecture slung across his chair.

“How was your weekend?”

“I just worked. It was so slow.” You confessed.

“What about those appointments?”

You let out a nervous, yet angry laugh. “Oh, one canceled on me.” You tugged on your jumper. It was warm in here and you got nervous when anyone asked anything regarding work. You didn’t want anyone to know. Especially a professor at your school! What would the consequences be? The two worlds of you and your work never should meet. You tapped on your thigh.

“And yours?”

“Not much to report, just also work.”

“Ahh.” You replied. You felt awkward.

“Uhhmm, I have accommodations put in by the university for my stuff. But right now, I don’t think they’re working? And the office who deals with that is totally backed up and can’t see me right now.” You drummed on your thigh a bit more and pleaded with your eyes. You were way out of your depth. You were just hoping maybe he’d have some pity. Some empathy. His class was engaging. He talked so well about everything. It was labeled as a philosophy class, but it felt more like some advanced physics class at time. He was poetical and waned on about too many a topic.

It challenged you, and you did like that.

You went back to trying to claw your notebook out. He tenderly grabbed it out and placed it on the desk.

“Thanks!” You replied to the gesture…

He produced a plate of chocolate chip cookies out of seemingly nowhere. They seemed freshly baked.

“Since I’ll be keeping you from lunch…” He shrugged. “Hope you don’t mind. We have to go over everything.”

You took one, it was big and gooey. Delicious. Had a hint of something else in it that you couldn’t place.

“Now, love, what are we looking at?” He muttered rifling through the pages.

“Fuck if I know.” You blurted out. “Sorry for my language.” You slapped your hand across your mouth, as if to stop anymore profanity from escaping your lips.

“It’s fine, heard worse. You should hear my wife. Mouth like a sailor! She once went in for twenty minutes at some dignitaries that wouldn’t let her scarper off with an artifact!” He laughed.

The minute he mentioned a wife, something in your chest fell down deep inside your gut.

Of course he’s married! He fit the entire profile. You should have known that from a mere glance. His age, married. White collar job. This place was probably his passion. The one good outlet that stopped him from visiting other places…

You stopped yourself from putting him in a neat little box. That was for work. Not for school. You mentally shook yourself.

“She sounds a riot! What does she do?”

“Oh, she was an archeologist! And a professor! Total bad girl.” He reminisced.

The ‘was’ put that sunken feeling back in your chest.

“Your notes are amazing. Very detailed. Really appreciate the scribbles and the note of ‘if you can’t focus today-> you’re wasting £76.21 today’”. He pointed out your mathematical equation you did breaking down the cost of tuition, the fees and the exact price each class cost per day.

“Am I wrong though?” You grimaced.

“You’ve got the wrong perspective, but I can see where you’d go with that. Capitalism has ruined what should be a shaping experience for you!”

You scratched your neck and shook your head.

“Yeah.”

You both poured yourselves over the topics covered and the remarks you made about it in your ongoing scribbled in reminders to yourself about class.

You felt him leave his seat and move over to the one beside you, probably meant for another student. The way his hands (large, sinuous, seemingly decently manicured, thin and well-jointed, you noticed appreciatively.) Combed the paper and tapped on words was enthralling.

The conversation expanded. He was letting you go off and follow your own conclusions about the subjects at hand. He commented and helped you link one thought to the other. Like a well-oiled duo. The office lights warmly reflected off the steely blue eyes that seemed to glow and shimmer when you made your own conclusions that fell in line with the lesson he was trying to give one so and so day in so and so page of note. You felt yourself relax and curl into the chair, sat cross-legged.

“So that means that time isn’t effectively real It’s a construct as much as a hobby?” You reported your findings from the deep trudged corners of your mind.

“Fuck yeah!” He shouted. Echoing your sudden use of profanity earlier…

It was oddly endearing.

He caught your gaze and you saw yourself in those haunting blue eyes. There were things brewing in those eyes. His mind was working faster and more erratically than yours was. And you were the expert on racing thoughts and flying minds.

Or so you thought…

You quickly dropped your gaze.

A red, hot flush ripped through your body. It was like he stripped you bare. And not in the way so many others have seen you bare. It was like he was inside your head. He was inside you, your very soul.

You became all to aware of your body again, the sudden ricochet into personhood was oddly violating. You uncrossed your legs and tore at what remained of your one middle finger’s nail. Really gouging into the skin around it. Doing the ultimate amount of damage. The casual, open phase of this meeting had ended.

He noticed your change and smoothed himself out.

You hated that you were the catalyst for this tone shift.

“I’ve kept you too long, (y/n). Why don’t you go. I’ll email you if I can see you next Monday.”

The thing in your chest from earlier sunk deep again. Further than the last time.

You gathered your things and made your apologies with your eyes. Walking out, you noticed your middle finger was bleeding. Profusely.

The campus felt colder than ever.

You could have shot yourself.

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you - Chp. 7

Pairing: Minchan (mention of changlix | ot8)

Word Count: 7348

Summary: Another two months later, things seem to stabilize again, and Minho is happier than ever with Chan despite his injury slowing him down. Everything seems to be perfect until their friends confront Chan about a possible relationship, and Chan's fear of being out in the open gets the better of him. He notices too late that Minho's right there, hearing everything...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, cuddles, smut , dom!chan, sub!minho, angst, verbal fight (also minho slaps chan)

A/N: Uhm...I'm sorry, it gets sad/heavy in the end @mal-lunar-28😅😂 ~ Moon🌙

Chp. 6 | Chp. 8

Just about the time I get it right Everything's in line, I get anxious If it feels too good to be true Then it probably is, I love it but I hate it Self Sabotage ~ Ruelle

Chan hadn't been lying about needing to let off some steam. Minho was slyly teasing him in front of the others, hands wandering over his body when no one was looking. In turn, Minho found himself getting fucked stupid in the most inappropriate settings, and he was secretly starting to love it. Backstage between performances in some desolate room or Chan's studio when Jisung and Changbin were away to get snacks. One night, they found themselves alone in the house and Minho was being a tease to no end. Chan, who had enough of his antics, bent him over the kitchen counter, ravishing Minho and interrupting him making dinner. On another early morning occasion, Chan sucked him off in their shared showers, and Minho could do nothing but contain his moans and hope no one would hear them, or worse, come inside. 

Just like that, another two months passed, and Minho started getting excited about their first year together. Chan’s mood was slowly stabilizing and things were improving between the two. They still hadn't defined what they were exactly, but it felt a lot like he had a boyfriend, which was alright with him. 

Minho was in his room scrolling through his social media platforms for cute ideas on how to make their "anniversary" special and perfect. He gently rubbed his knee and contorted his face at the stinging pain. About a week ago during practice, he messed up the landing after a jump and hurt his knee. The doctors advised him to take it easy and go on walks to keep up with movement but to refrain from dancing for a couple days. It pissed him off, but he knew he'd make it worse by not listening to them. So Chan had accompanied him on his walks and ensured he wasn't overdoing it. Someone knocked at his door, and only a moment later, his favorite curly-haired boy glanced inside. "Hi there," he smiled brightly, quickly turning off his phone to give his full, undivided attention. 

Chan smiled and came over, leaning down for a quick kiss. "You think you can show me those steps again before the children join us?" 

"Sure thing, love," he told him and took his hand, walking downstairs with him. "You look really cute today," he said softly. Chan was wearing a light blue sweater and black sweatpants combined with a beanie of his, a few curls sticking out from beneath it. 

"Thank you, baby," he smiled shyly and squeezed his hand thankfully. 

Minho looked at him fondly, checked their surroundings, and gave him a quick kiss. He looked over him once more and let a passing smirk grace his lips. “Am I right to think you are looking for cuddles?” He squinted his eyes playfully at the man.

“What gave it away?” Chan asked, giggling softly.

“My sweater,” Minho chuckled knowingly and brushed his hand over Chan’s shoulder. “You usually wear my clothes when you do.”

Chan laughed softly, heart melting at how well Minho knew him. It was true; he usually wore something that belonged to Minho when he felt lonely and in need of comfort. This way, he had him wherever he went. “Stop being so sweet to me,” he said softly. 

“Stop having such a beautiful smile,” Minho said, winking at him as Chan blushed deeply, hiding his face slightly to cover a small smile. “See, you can’t change that either. Deal with it, Channie love.” He teased the man with a chuckle.

Once they got to the practice room, Minho turned on the music quietly and stepped next to Chan, taking his hand once more. He talked him through the steps again before demonstrating to him. Chan followed his directions and danced along, still holding hands. As soon as they were done, Chan pulled him into a warm embrace, making Minho giggle happily as their noses brushed together. “Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow?”

Minho’s smile widened. “Just you and me?”

“Just us,” he nodded, and his heart warmed seeing how excited Minho looked at the confirmation.

“Is this a date, Channie love?” he asked softly.

“You could call it that,” he nodded with a sweet smile. “I have something to give you,” he said, thinking of the small silver ring safely stored away in his room. He was ready to take things a step further and finally put a label on their relationship.

“Oh, really?” he asked curiously and searched his eyes. God, his lips were begging Minho to kiss him right then and here.

"Look at our hyungs flirting again!" Jeongin shouted out, and Minho flinched away from Chan, surprised. From the corner of his eye, he sees the others begin to pile into the room.

"You're just jealous," Chan grinned at him, still holding his hand. 

Minho looked down at their hands and bit back a smile. "Alright let's get ready, everyone." 

"You better take it easy," Chan warned him. 

"I know," he sighed softly and mostly supervised his friends for the rest of the afternoon. Boring. 

-

Minho later found himself sitting at his desk in his room, listening to a few new songs and humming along softly. He wrote down a few ideas for the dances and scribbled down some formations and group placements. 

"Minho hyung?" He heard a voice softly call out his name.

"Yes?" he asked, looking up at Jisung, who was glancing inside his room from the doorway. 

"Can I have the keys to the practice room? Hyunjin locked us out again," he chuckled. 

Minho opened the drawer on his left and took out the keys. "Unlock the door and bring them right back before the same thing happens again," he said, tossing him the keys. Jisung nodded and left, leaving the door cracked open. Minho went back to focusing on the songs. 

"Min?" Felix called out to him not even five minutes later. 

"Yes, Lixie?" he asked, putting down his pen and looking up at the man. 

"I just wanted to ask if you're still up for working on new stuff tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, sure thing," he nodded and flashed him a smile as he gave him a thumbs up. 

"Nice," he beamed.

“I mean, we could just work on it later today if you’d like,” Minho suggested. But his expression dropped a little as Felix contorted his face from his words. “Or not?”

“Changbinnie’s coming back from his trip today. I wanted to try and spend some time with him before the others come for him,” he apologized gently. 

“Ohh, right,” Minho chuckled and waved him off. “That’s fine. Make sure you get some cuddles for me too,” he winked at him, and Felix giggled before leaving again, still leaving the door cracked open. "I should've closed the door," he groaned to himself and glanced over, deciding he was too lazy to do so and leaving it open. Hopefully, he can continue working in pea- 

"Hyung?" Jeongin's voice interrupted his thoughts once more. Or maybe not…

Minho closed his eyes in defeat, forcing a bright smile on his lips for their maknae before looking up at him. "Yes, dear?" 

"I feel like I didn't get all the steps today and I'm nervous I'll mess them up," he confessed, genuine worry in his tone as he spoke. 

"Innie, I promise you'll be fine. I think you did a great job today and it's only going to get better," he told him patiently. "We can go through them again together tomorrow, okay?" 

"Okay," he beamed at him, relieved. He gave Minho a smile and left, with the door still open.

He continued working, and three minutes later, someone knocked gently. "Oh, for fucks sake, can't I work in peace for like ten minutes?" he groaned. Once he looked up, he met Chan's amused chocolate eyes. "Ah, it's you." 

"Wow, not the exact greeting I was hoping for," he giggled and strolled over to his lover. "What are you doing?" 

"Trying to work," he told him. "Obviously," he pointed at his desk. 

"Want to take a break?" Chan asked. 

"Not really, no," Minho shook his head. "My brain's producing good stuff right now." 

"Mhm," he hummed and glanced around his room. "Can I stay?" 

"Sure, just be quiet," he nodded and vaguely waved towards his bed. Chan hummed, agreeing, but sat down at the edge of his desk instead. That alone meant trouble, and Minho wanted to stay focused. "Channie," he tried patiently. 

"What?" he asked innocently. 

"I'm working," he said, glancing up at him. 

"I know, you just told me so," Chan nodded in agreement and blinked at him innocently. "Am I distracting you?" 

"Only a little," he said and squinted his eyes at him. Chan’s gaze didn’t waver one bit, instead locking in on Minho’s harder. And he knew exactly what that meant. "You're horny right now, aren’t you?," he asked suddenly, but he could tell the shift in his lover’s eyes once he looked in them. 

"What? No…Well, maybe a little," he shrugged sheepishly. "You know it's not fair that you're so effortlessly handsome," he complained. 

"It's not fair you're ready to have sex all the time either. Deal with it," he spoke as a warning. "Go look behind my sweaters. There's some stuff you could use to pass the time." 

Chan rolled his eyes and leaned forward, bracing himself on the armrests of his chair. "Baby." 

"Love?" he asked, slightly irritated. 

"I won't settle for anything other than you, you hear me?" he asked, and Minho's ears quickly burned blush pink. 

"But I'm working on our songs, love," he whined softly, a bit frustrated. But he couldn’t stop himself from shifting in his seat as Chan’s words went straight to his core, making him feel fuzzy and hot.

"Min-." 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jisung asked, suddenly standing in the doorway again and interrupting the two. 

"He's trying to bully me into cuddling with him when I'm supposed to be working," Minho smoothly answered and shoved Chan back to create a little distance. "What the fuck are you doing? Again?" he said back. 

"Keys," he said, holding them up proudly. 

"Oh, right," he nodded and took them. He placed them back in the drawer. "Close the door on the way out." 

"Why, need some privacy for cuddles?" he asked teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows at the two. 

"Get out right now," Minho jokingly threatened him. Jisung left giggling and closed the door. 

Minho turned his attention back to the man sitting on his desk. "Chan, what's up with you?" 

"Nothing." 

"Don't lie, you suck at it," he giggled. 

Chan sighed softly and hid his face in his hands. “Don’t make me say it, it's so embarrassing." 

"What is?" he asked, frowning softly. Was there a need to be concerned?

Chan whined and spoke in a single breath. "Ireallylikewhenyougointofullleadermodeduringdancepractice," he mumbled out. 

"You what?" Minho asked, blinking softly. 

"I really like when you go into full leader mode during dance practice," he confessed and chewed on his lower lip. “Its really hot seeing you take charge,”

"Oh, you do?" he asked with a hint of fake curiosity, remembering Felix had mentioned this before. Chan nodded and covered his cheeks, blushing in slight embarrassment. "How much, Mr. I'm always in control?" he asked, intrigued to know the answer. He kept his eyes locked onto his to see his next move

“Way too much,” he confessed shyly and dropped to his knees in front of his chair. Minho raised his eyebrows at him as Chan rested his chin on his knees, gazing up at him with soft, pleading eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that, love. You’re gonna make me hard,” he told him with a chuckle, brushing Chan’s curls back. Gosh, this man looked good with his natural curly hair and bare face. He loved the sight of Chan on his knees, practically begging for attention. The fact that he was wearing his sweater didn’t help either.

“Why don’t you continue working, and I’ll take care of it?” Chan proposed, a grin stretching his lips once Minho gave in, knowing he’d lose out on any chance of working later if he wouldn’t let him have his way now.

Minho really tried to focus on his work, he did. But with Chan beneath the table, pulling down his sweatpants enough to pull his dick out, it was a little challenging. Chan didn’t waste any time, licking up his shaft and twirling his tongue around the tip. His eyes fluttered close as Chan started taking him into his mouth, giving himself time to adjust to him and take him in deeper. Minho’s lips parted with a gasp as Chan took him in deeper, tongue massaging his dick perfectly. “Feels so good, Channie,” he let him know, panting as he felt the warm, wetness of his mouth close around him. Once Chan had gotten comfortable enough, he started bobbing his head in a steady rhythm, and Minho’s hand shot down to bury itself in his hair. “Fuck,” he sighed and dropped his pen on the desk, giving up on his work. This was so much better. He adjusted in his seat a bit more comfortably.

Chan suddenly pulled back and looked up at him with dilated pupils. He massaged his thighs, smiling up at him lovingly. “Fuck, you sound beautiful,” he told him, and Minho blushed. “You think you can keep quiet while I touch you some more, kitten?” he asked, and Minho nodded quickly, immediately melting at the pet name. Chan’s thumb brushed Minho’s lips before pushing two fingers into his mouth. Minho moaned softly and sucked at them eagerly, covering them in his spit as Chan kept on rubbing his thigh teasingly. Chan proceeded to pull Minho’s sweatpants down further and, grabbing his thighs, pulled him forward in his chair. 

Minho cursed softly as Chan took him back into his mouth and started pushing one finger into him at the same time. He gripped his curls tightly and shivered at the groan that left Chan’s throat at his action. Minho melted into his chair and relaxed fully into the feeling of Chan opening him up. Not too much time passed before Chan was buried four fingers deep into his lover. He had his legs resting on his shoulders, one hand gripping the armrest and the other one guiding Chan’s head up and down his length. Minho’s head fell back with a whiny moan as he hit the back of his throat, and he couldn’t help but moan Chan’s name loudly. 

Chan gently squeezed his thigh, signaling him to be quiet, and moaned around his dick deliciously. He was enjoying the pull on his hair and the strangled sounds he pulled from him. Chan tried to pull back, but Minho held him in place and shook his head. “Don’t stop, Channie,” he told him breathlessly. “Please don’t stop.”

Chan still pulled back and got up, lifting Minho up from the chair. He sat down in the chair with him on his lap and kissed him hungrily. “I tried my best,” he told him, and Minho giggled sweetly. “But you’re driving me crazy.”

“As usual,” Minho chuckled and kissed him hard as he reached down between them, pulling Chan’s dick from his pants. “Lube,” he told him, and Chan reached into his drawer to take the small bottle out. 

“You keep that right next to the keys to the dance room?” he laughed. 

“I have no secrets,” he shrugged with a chuckle, and took the bottle from him, flicking the cap open. Minho shifted a little, adjusting his weight on his lower body, but contorted his face at the sharp pain shooting through his knee. Chan noticed from the corner of his eye and lifted him up again, standing up with him in his arms. He pushed Minho’s notes aside and sat him down at the edge of the table. Minho looked at him and lovingly caressed his cheek as he captured his lips in a kiss. He had never felt as safe and cared for as when he’s with Chan. It was perfect. Minho grabbed a condom from the drawer and rolled it over Chan’s dick.

“Just try to relax, okay?” he mumbled into the kiss after spreading some lube over his dick. Minho hummed softly and took a couple deep breaths. Chan started pushing into him slowly. 

Once he was fully buried inside him, Minho wrapped his legs loosely around Chan’s waist. Chan grabbed his thigh, making sure to steady his injured leg, and braced himself on the table behind Minho. Minho wrapped one arm around his neck, burying his hand in his curls, and braced himself right next to him, fingertips touching. Minho moaned sweetly as soon as he started moving and kissed him passionately, trying to stifle his moans. 

It didn’t help much since Chan also started moaning at the feeling of being inside him. They moved in sync, moaning into each other’s mouths, chasing the other’s lips. Minho arched into him and moved his hand up to grip his sweater right between his shoulders. Minho pulled up the fabric between his fingers, his head falling back as Chan kissed down his neck. He pulled at his curls, making him moan against his skin, and smiled blissfully at the feeling. 

“Fuck, kitten,” Chan whispered against his skin and thrust into him deep. 

Minho stopped caring about his volume; he was already too far gone. He held Chan close as their bodies melted together in pure bliss. The two men pressed their foreheads together. Their breaths mingled as their noses brushed against each other, hair sticking to their flesh. “Channie,” he whispered sweetly in his ear.

“Min, baby,” Chan whispered back softly. He still couldn’t believe he gets to see Minho so vulnerable and open for him. He was a different kind of pretty in moments like these. It was addicting. The two were so focused on each other that they didn’t hear the small tapping on the door, followed by it opening slowly.

“Minho, do you have a moment?” Felix asked while walking in, but his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. 

“Bad moment, Lixie,” Minho breathed out, not even giving a fuck about him catching them in the act. Chan felt too damn good inside of him right now, and Felix had seen him naked before. His head fell back with a loud moan as Chan’s dick finally tapped his prostate with a particular thrust, and he gripped the sweater tightly.

“Oh fuck, sorry! “ he rambled and quickly covered his ears, closing his eyes and stumbling back outside. Felix blushed heavily as he closed the door and covered his face in his hands. 

“I should really learn how to knock,” he groaned at himself and stood still in the hallway for a moment, trying to push away the vivid images. He didn’t fully succeed, almost feeling a little jealous at how in sync and in love those two had just seemed in that moment. The way they solely focused on each other’s pleasure. Just like earlier at the practice room before the rest had joined them…and even during practice. These two just fit together perfectly. Sometimes, he longed for Binnie to look at him like that and hold him close like that without him initiating it. He shook his head at himself, pushing those thoughts away. He was happy, after all. He sighed once more and went to his room.

“Will you ever learn to -ohh fuck- lock the door?” Minho breathed out between moans.

“Has he ever heard of knocking?” Chan asked breathlessly.

“He never does,” Minho giggled, and his eyes fluttered close with a soft whimper. “Channie, I’m so close.”

Chan was about to answer before his hips suddenly stilled, and he came with a groan of his name. He bit down on Minho’s shoulder to stifle his sounds, and Minho came on the spot, spilling all over his sweater. They spent a little bit in each other’s arms, catching their breath. Once ready, Chan pulled out of him gently, took the condom off, and threw it into the bin beneath the desk. He tucked himself back into his pants before taking the sweater off and using it to clean Minho up. “Sorry,” he laughed and kissed him gently.

Minho giggled against his lips and let Chan help him out of his own sweater. Chan got some fresh clothes from his drawers and helped him get dressed. Minho’s hands gently roamed Chan’s bare chest as he kissed him afterwards. He pulled Chan with him to his closet and looked through his things. While they find time to meet for sex, Minho always takes Chan’s dirty clothes and washes them, keeping them safe in his room for times such as these. His fingertips brushed over the small box hidden behind his shirts, and he smiled, thinking of the bracelet he had bought for Chan as a surprise resting there for now. “There you go,” he smiled and handed him a shirt.

“This is mine?” he giggled, raising his eyebrow at his lover.

“I know,” he grinned.

“You’ve been stealing my clothes?” he asked, amused, and pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Maybe,” he said innocently and closed the closet again. “They smell like you, you know. It’s comforting.”

Chan’s face softened, and he took his hands. “You’re so adorable, kitten.” Minho hummed, satisfied, and Chan kissed his nose. “Kissing you all those months ago has been the best decision I’ve made in a while.”

Minho blushed a little and pulled him close. “Allowing you to do so has definitely been one of my brightest moments,” he nodded giggling. “I don’t regret it at all”.

Chan smiled sweetly, but then suddenly started laughing. The memory of Felix walking into the room still very fresh. "How could you be so unbothered by Felix walking in on us?" 

"You're pretty amazing at what you do. I wasn't really thinking about it," he shrugged his shoulders, making Chan laugh even more. "But still, Felix has seen all of me. It isn’t really a shock anymore." 

"Mhm, fair point. It's not like he hasn't caught me before as well. It's always Felix, isn't it?" he groaned softly. 

"Felix knows and has seen too much," he nodded. "I’d better go look for him and ask what he wants." 

"Leaving me already?" he pouted, not wanting to let Minho go just yet. 

"Come on, you big baby," he giggled, pulling him with him. Minho went down the hallway, knocking on Felix's door. "Sorry, Lix, toddler alert," he joked as they stepped into his space. But his face fell seeing him sitting against his headboard, hugging a pillow as tears ran down his cheeks. "Yongbokie, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, climbing onto his bed. "We didn't traumatize you, did we?" he joked. 

Felix laughed through tears and rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he groaned. "Sorry for interrupting. I should've knocked." 

"Forget about that," Chan said, sitting down on Felix's other side. "What's wrong, mate?" 

"Nothing, I'm just being stupid," he told them, sniffing softly. 

"That happens sometimes," Minho winked at him and gently squeezed Felix's hand. "But this isn’t one of those times. Come on, sunshine, what's going on?" 

"I just really missed Changbinnie these past two weeks," he told them and sniffled softly. Changbin had been back at home before being abroad for a few promotional things and advertisements. "I really hoped we could cuddle or spend time together when he comes back, but he told me he just wants to unpack and take a nap afterward. And I…I don't know. I'm feeling lonely and touch starved, but Jisung and Hyunjin are busy practicing, and Seungmin and Jeongin are already off cuddling each other somewhere." 

Chan hummed gently and wrapped his arm around him, rubbing his shoulder. "And that upset you?" 

Felix nodded, and Minho searched his eyes. "I'm sure Changbin didn't mean to upset you. We all know how tired and grumpy he gets after a flight," he calmed him. 

"I know. As I said, I'm being stupid," he sighed and messily wiped his cheeks with his sleeve. 

Minho handed him a tissue and shook his head. "You're not being stupid, Lixie." 

Chan gently ruffled through his hair. "You know you can come to us for a cuddle whenever you need it." 

"He probably wanted to," Minho pointed out, and they all started laughing. "Are you still feeling lonely and touch-starved?" 

Felix nodded timidly at him. Minho felt the tug at his heartstrings, looking at his big, teary eyes. 

"You know what? I'll share Channie with you today," he offered, making his hyung snort. "Cuddles only, of course." 

"Min," Felix protested weakly and hit his arm, giggling. 

Chan rolled his eyes softly before moving between them, lying down, and letting Minho cuddle to his side comfortably. "Come on, Felix." 

Minho gently patted Chan's chest, and Felix took the hint, making himself comfortable on top of Chan. Minho lazily wrapped his arm around him as Chan covered them all with Felix's blanket. Chan soothingly rubbed Felix's back before moving his hand up to play with his hair. His other arm was draped around Minho's waist, hands intertwined on his hip. Minho lovingly fondled Felix's cheek for a moment. "Is this better, sunshine?" 

"Yeah," Felix nodded, smiling softly. 

Chan relaxed as they soon fell asleep in his arms, and he smiled. He didn't take long to drift off as well, and his head sank against Minho's, searching for him even in his sleep. 

-

Felix woke up later, somehow cuddled between them as Chan had turned onto his side in his sleep. Minho and Chan were hugging him from both sides, their legs all intertwined. Minho had his face buried in his shirt between his shoulders whilst Chan's face was buried in his hair. Felix hadn't felt that warm and comfortable in a long while and closed his eyes again, deciding to enjoy the much-needed feeling a little longer. 

-

Minho woke up a little later, carefully letting go of him and stretching his body tiredly. Felix turned to face him and flashed him a tired smile. Minho reached for Felix's phone to check the time and saw a few messages from Changbin. "I think your boyfriend's waiting for you," he told him quietly, and Felix's eyes lit up. "I'll wake him up. You go get your cuddles." Minho whispers as he goes to wake up Chan.

"Let him sleep," he waved him off. "He needs it." Felix slowly got out of bed and made his way towards the door, opening it carefully to slip out of the room.

Minho smirked and watched him leave before slipping into Chan's arms. He buried his face in his chest, inhaling his scent, and relaxed. "I love you, Channie," he whispered into his shirt and smiled as Chan scooted closer to him in his sleep. Gosh, this man was cuddly. Minho beamed softly. He would've never thought that someone would love and appreciate him as Chan did. 

-

Chan woke up later with a yawn and chuckled softly as he looked down, seeing Minho curled up in his arms. He leaned down, brushing back his hair and kissing his head. Minho cuddled even closer in response, signaling he was somewhat awake. "Feeling comfy, kitten?" 

"Very," he answered sleepily. "You slept alright?" Chan hummed in response. "Felix went to see Changbin. We thought we'd let you get some sleep." 

"My insomnia says thank you," he snorted, and Minho giggled sweetly. 

The door opened, and Felix stepped inside, looking a lot happier than before. "Glad to see you two finally awake. Are you coming down to help with dinner?" 

"Sure thing," Chan nodded and got up with him, stretching out his limbs. 

Minho gave him a soft kiss and hugged him close for another moment. "Cuddle session this evening?" 

"Sounds perfect," Chan nodded happily and kissed his forehead.

-

Jeongin looked at Chan curiously as they were preparing dinner a bit later. "What exactly have you two been doing behind closed doors recently? It’s like you’re always disappearing." 

"Wh-What? Who?" Chan asked in shock, his eyes widening. 

"You and Minho hyung," he answered with an eyebrow raise. 

Hyunjin giggled. "Maybe they're secretly in love," he smirked. Minho had to bite back a grin at that assumption. 

Minho quickly lowered his head and continued drying the dishes. A huge kitchen like that had its perks. And sometimes, his group members completely forgot he was there too, standing in front of the stove far away from him. This way, no one realized they could be bothering him with questions too. 

"Secret lovers?" Felix laughed, and the thought made his eyes shine bright. If they only knew how close they were to the truth. He met Minho's eyes across the room for a moment and held back a laugh. Jisung desperately tried not to laugh as well and disappeared into a cabinet with his head, pretending to search for a pan and holding in his giggles.

"Can you imagine our hyungs hooking up? Would that officially make them our parents?" Seungmin threw in, and Changbin shouted in protest. 

"Married with six kids," Jeongin added and glanced over at their dinner in preparation. 

"How do you all even come up with this stuff?" Chan asked playfully, laughing and rolling his eyes. 

But Minho  couldn’t help but frown softly. It wasn't like they had been hiding it that well. Of course, their group members would notice them spending way more time together than before, and oftentimes in their rooms. Minho let Chan hug him more openly than before, and just last night, they cuddled during the movie night. Also, he doubted he and Chan had been that quiet all those times they took a little risk and had sex. Like today. Things have been going on for almost a year, after all.

"You two just seem to have gotten closer recently," Jisung explained. 

"Well, you know he's been trying to cheer me up lately," he answered. 

One way to put it, Minho thought to himself and gathered some plates. He needed more space to continue cleaning. 

"Yeah, but-." 

"Nothing happened. Have you seen Minho? I call myself lucky when I get a hug from him, or when he doesn't pull his hand away from mine," Chan said, and Minho froze in place. His ears couldn’t help but to tune into the conversation. "He's not exactly the warm boyfriend material I'd need. And no, we didn't kiss either," he tried to play it cool, forgetting for a moment that Minho was right there hearing everything. 

His heart shattered at his comment, and he began to grow pale. Was he being serious? Felix and Jisung looked over at him with concern and exchanged a short look. Minho put down the plates a little too loud, making everyone flinch and turn toward him. "Is that what you think about me when you think I'm not listening? That I'm cold? Unloving? Unaffectionate?" 

Chan's face fell, as all the color drained from his skin while simultaneously allowing a deep red to settle on his neck and cheeks. "Minho," he breathed out in shock and got a raised eyebrow in return. Fuck. 

The others looked back and forth between them anxiously, unsure of what was happening. "I can tell you what happened," Minho said, and Chan opened his mouth in protest, but the look in Minho's eyes made him stop. "We kissed quite a lot actually. At least when he wasn't busy shoving his dick in my ass." 

"Minho!" Chan burst out as the rest looked at him in amusement and pure disbelief. "We had an agreement," he whispered. 

"Listen up Chan, it's one thing to pretend that nothing is going on between the two of us and staying away from you in public. That's what I agreed to," he said, his eyes never tearing away from Chan’s. "But I won't lie to the people I call my family anymore. Especially not after what you just said." 

"I-I freaked out, okay, I didn't mean it," he tried to save himself, stomach turning painfully. Changbin stared at them in shock, slowly connecting the dots before looking at Felix, who just shook his head firmly. Not now. 

"It sure sounded like you did," Minho said sadly, and a wave of fear washed over him. Had Chan felt like this about him all this time? Had it just been the sex and the thrill of affection that kept him around? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it right now. "I'm done with this.”

“Baby,” Chan spoke up and calmingly held up his hands. “Come on, let’s talk this out.”

“Save it, Chan. I won't let you toy around with me like that," he said firmly and opened the cabinet above his head, putting the plates inside.

"Toy around? Is that what you think I was doing?" he asked, growing defensive. "Maybe it was you who used me. You practically threw yourself onto me when I gave you the chance. And you've been hovering since that damn night a few months ago," Chan said, trying to get himself out of the line of fire. 

Minho's face fell, and Jisung was in shock at how hurt he looked. "Threw myself - Are you fucking kidding me?" he shouted suddenly, and everyone flinched, slowly backing away from Chan to continue watching from the sidelines. 

“Oh shit,” Seungmin breathed out, and Jeongin exchanged a worried glance with him. Minho sure lost his temper a lot lately with Chan, but not like this. Especially not in front of them. 

"I risked my life to get to you that night because of your stupid message. I held you when you felt like you were falling apart. And I was the one showing you how much you're worth since you can't see that for yourself. You kissed me first, dumbass! I didn't plan on kissing you two nights after, only to have sex the next morning. And I sure as hell didn't plan on doing it again and again over the next eleven months, sneaking around behind everyone's back!" Minho aggressively slammed the cabinet closed, making Chan flinch a little.

"You didn't risk your life," Chan gave back weakly, completely overwhelmed by Minho’s sudden outburst. He fucked up big time, and he was stuck on how to fix it. 

Minho glared at him. "You, out of everyone here, should know how much I have a fear of heights. And still, I climbed over to your balcony." 

"I didn't ask you to!" Chan burst out, feeling like he was being pushed into a corner. 

"I didn't ask you to leave us all behind either, but that's what you wanted to do! You didn't just give up on yourself, you gave up on those you swore to protect. And you gave up on me! You gave up on us, Chan, and still, I stayed by your fucking side because I was too scared to lose you," he gave back just as loudly. But seeing Chan's face, he knew he said too much. Oh, shit. 

"Wait a minute, Chan did what?" Changbin spoke up, confused. Minho stared at Chan, who slowly shook his head. 

"Min, baby, please-," he begged quietly. 

"Stop calling me that," Minho said firmly. 

"Minho, don't," Chan pressed out, anxiously glancing at the others. They can’t know he had been feeling like shit lately. They can’t know he had been ready to give up and quit that night. 

"Hey! What the fuck happened?" Changbin cut them off, deciding to step in and get some answers.

"He accidentally sent his goodbye message to me. That's why I climbed out there; my fear of losing him was bigger than that stupid balcony. Turns out he was thinking about quitting on us and leaving the team behind, saying I’d do just fine as your new leader," Minho said, and his voice trembled, seeing betrayal flash in Chan's eyes. "I'm sorry, Chan, but they should know. I’ve been telling you for weeks now to be honest-."

"Fuck you," Chan said barely above a whisper. "You promised me you wouldn’t tell them," he said, clearly hurt. Now it was all out in the open. Him almost giving up. His feelings for Minho and everything that had followed those past few months. Minho let it all out, taking away his chance to tell the truth at his own pace. 

"Well, you promised you'd fight for us. So I guess we both lied," he said tiredly, hoping the conversation would finally end and he could disappear. He just wanted to hide in his room and avoid everyone. But the way Chan's eyes suddenly darkened, he knew it wasn’t over. If there was one thing he had learned about his hyung, it was that you shouldn't piss him off. Being pushed into a corner could make him snap within seconds. 

"You know what, maybe I did mean it. Maybe I meant every word I said. You are cold, Minho. You obviously don’t give a shit about my feelings and the promise you made to me. I should've known from the beginning you'd fuck me over and tell everyone about what happened because you can’t keep a secret. Stop acting like you didn't want me to fuck you so you could finally not be so fucking alone anymore and feel like you're worth something. You enjoy having someone tell you you’re not what everyone else says you are, huh? Makes you feel like a better person for once, you sassy asshole?" Chan spat out, panting heavily once the last word fell from his lips. But the moment he said it, he regretted it. He covered his mouth with his hand, unable to follow his thought process of producing such hateful words. What the fuck had he done? 

“Excuse me?” he whispered and took a step back, bringing some distance between them. Minho's eyes filled with tears, lips trembling as he tried to regain his composure. Minho could feel his heart breaking, feeling sick and disoriented. 

Chan had never seen him that hurt before and losing his composure in front of the rest. Minho never did, not wanting the younger ones to worry about him. 

"Chan, what the fuck?" Felix spoke up in pure shock and gently took Jisung's hand, which was trembling, as he stepped behind him. Jeongin and Seungmin practically hid behind Changbin and Hyunjin, who stared at their hyungs, unable to comprehend what just happened. 

“Chan, dude,” Changbin contorted his face and took a step toward Minho. “Minho hyung, he clearly didn’t mean it. There's no way any of us would think that about yo-.” he stopped as Minho held his hand up.

"So you're finally being honest with me," he chuckled and closed his eyes for a moment, putting down the towel he had been drying the dishes with. "Oh, Channie love, I'll show you just how much of an asshole I can be," he said, words dripping with disgust. Minho suddenly took a step forward and slapped Chan forcefully, making his head turn to the side. 

Chan placed his hand on his cheek in pure shock as the others gasped, surprised. "What the fuck?" Chan breathed out. 

"You're the only asshole here. I hope you had fun pretending you liked me or seen anything beyond a way to let off steam," he said shakily as tears ran down his cheeks. There was no use in hiding how hurt he was. Chan had torn his walls down and sent an arrow straight into his heart.

"Did you just hit me?" he asked in pure disbelief. 

"Yes, I fucking did!" Minho yelled at him. "You just broke my fucking heart! You'll get over it." 

Chan blinked and slowly pulled his hand off his cheek. The full weight of Minho's words slowly sunk in and he grew incredibly pale, his hands starting to shake. "Minho," he whispered timidly. "I'm so sorry." 

"Fuck you, Chan, seriously," he sobbed out and smacked his chest forcefully. Chan let him, not defending himself, as Minho lost his composure and broke down. It broke him seeing Minho like this, and the fact that he caused it feels even worse.

"Minho stop," Hyunjin said, stepping forward and pulling Chan away from him. "Come on, you're better than this." 

"Come here," Felix spoke up softly as he carefully wrapped his arms around him from behind and pulled him away from Chan, looking at his friend in shock.

Minho covered his mouth with his hand and let Felix pull him back. He didn't know if he was more hurt or angry right now. He felt betrayed on so many levels, becoming too hard to differentiate these emotions. "I believed you," he pressed out. 

"You shouldn't have," Chan whispered, tears burning in his eyes. 

He hiccuped as tears kept flowing. “You told me not to believe in all the things they said about me and bullshit rumors that were going to spread about us.”

"I'm sorry, Min," Chan pressed out weakly. "I'm an asshole, and you deserve better." 

"Stop it, just fucking stop it! Please…" Minho shook his head and felt his heart breaking apart. He should’ve never believed in a happy ending for them. He shouldn't have believed him saying he'd fight for them. He shouldn't have believed him when he said haters were lying and Minho wasn't anything like what they said. 

"Minho hyung, let's take a break and-," Seungmin started but stopped as Minho gently shook Felix off, grabbed his phone from the table, and turned around. He didn't look at his friends as he passed them. Hyunjin tried to hold him back, but he just shook him off, holding back a sob. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Felix snapped at Chan. "How could you say something like that?"

"Felix, easy now," Changbin tried to calm his boyfriend. It wasn't like Minho walked away innocently from this. 

"No, why would you defend that? We all saw it happen!" Felix asked him, highly irritated. 

"Felix," Minho cut him off sharply. "That's my mess, not yours. Leave it be."

"Minho, can we talk? Alone?" Chan asked with tears in his eyes. His breathing was uneven and shaky, trying to hold back a sob. There was an imprint of Minho's hand on his cheek, his lips quivered and for a second Minho hesitated, seeing the damage he caused him. 

He couldn't leave him there crying, could he? Not when he was the only one taking care of him whenever he did. But then again…he couldn't comfort him. Not now, not after all he’s done. "Fuck you, I won't be listening to any more of your lies," Minho said firmly before walking upstairs. 

Chan didn't dare to raise his head until Minho's door slammed closed. He could barely meet his group members' eyes as he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he whispered and blinked back tears. "I'm so sorry, fuck," he buried his face in his hands as a sob shook his entire body. The moment Jeongin wrapped his arms around him, heavily shaking himself, Chan's stomach turned. He didn't deserve any comfort right now. Not after what he did to Minho, his love. A few moments later, they all were by his side, too shocked about what Minho had revealed to think of anything else. 

"You're so fucking stupid sometimes, Chan," Changbin said and shook his head at him. “What the fuck was that about?”

"I promise I can explain everything," Chan said shakily and swallowed hard. 

Felix cleared his throat and met Chan's eyes. "I love you, Channie, I really do…but what you just said to him was fucked up on so many levels. You need to fix this. And fast. I can't leave him alone like that," Chan nodded in agreement and let the others pull him to the sofa to sit down. 

"I'll join you," Jisung said, very disturbed about Chan's outburst. 

Chp. 6 | Chp. 8

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[enkvyu]

ENOUGHHHH with the spiderman!jujutsu kaisen angst☹️☹️ spiderman!jjk with blackcat!reader when🙏🙏

i was gonna write a 4k oneshot for this but it was taking too long SO take this super short drabble (?) instead. i'll post the oneshot in a few days if i can finish it in time. thanks for the ask it was sm fun to write !!

6:26pm — getou suguru ;

you knock on the big red door in front of you, and dread the moment it opens. the rain slides down your costume and you rub a hand over your arms, cold.

everything felt odd. never in a million years did you ever imagine yourself waiting outside this suburban home, still in your supervillain attire, acting less like a feisty cat and more like a soggy stray. the comparison is enough to make you grimace. you can feel the usual flame of determination and confidence whimper under the crying skies and you think nothing could make this worse.

unfortunately for you, the person you least wanted to see in this moment opens the door, and their mouth drops open when they see you there, latex black costume still adorned, mask still on, water soaking you down to your bones.

"it isn't good to stare, spiderman." you manage to smirk.

getou closes his mouth with effort and sighs, turning to the side to let you in. he glances side to side, but there would be no one out in the streets at two in the morning. "black cat, just because you found out who i am doesn't mean you can use my place to crash."

you step in and the warmth of a home cuts you deeper than the cold. still, you shake it off along with your hair, combing through knots with your hand and claws. "don't you think you can cut a poor, little kitty like me some slack? where's your sympathy?"

"where's your tact?" getou shoots back, closing the door and reaching over his couch to grab a sweater. he throws it at you. "here, wear this. i don't need my roommate to find out that i'm harbouring a criminal."

you gladly put it in, taking off your whip and placing it on his coffee table. you go to make yourself comfortable when you find him staring at you. "cat got your tongue? they're lying, you know, flattery can definitely get you places. especially with me."

"when are you going to take off your mask?” he asks instead. “you already know who i am.”

"you shouldn’t ask a girl her secrets."

getou blanches. "you're literally in my living room. i'll throw you out on the streets if you keep acting tough especially since you're in no position to be doing that." he walks over to you and you have to force yourself not to flinch when he starts adjusting his sweater on you, the material already damping.

neither of you mention it.

"i was betrayed."

geotu doesn't say anything, just hums to let you know he's listening.

"it was meant to be a simple mission on a yacht. who knew men had more bones than the one in their dicks. i didn't expect any of them to have a backbone but the next thing i knew, i was in the ocean, my loot taken from me."

"so now you're here." getou sums up.

you shrug. "now i'm here."

"but why are you here, is my question."

"i'm just a stray cat now, no place to go no home to call her own. i thought perhaps visiting an older lover would get me going again." you smile up at him, hoping that he’ll take the bait.

he stops his tidying hands that had long finished its purpose and looks at you. "you’re soaked to the bone. do you want to take a shower?"

you think he's getting too good deflecting you, too good at treating you like you weren't black cat. did he think you were a joke, a pathetic, pale reflection of your usual persona just because you had sought him out for help? if there was anything you hated, it was being treated like you were fragile and broken.

you push him in the chest, tucking your feet behind his so he falls hard on his back. you lean over him, hair tumbling over your shoulder and tickling the side of his face. "is that an invitation?" you purr, running your fingers down his chest slowly.

there's a red that's creeping up his face and you think you've won when his hand reaches up and grabs yours, halting its movement. "i'm not in costume right now." he responds and you tilt your head at his random words. "i'm not spiderman right now. you don't have to force yourself to act a certain way."

you freeze before shaking off his grip. it falls away easily, but his gaze is as steady as ever. "playing hard to get?"

"black cat." he says.

"i'm not acting. this is how i usually am."

he frowns as you fidget with the neckline of his shirt. "would you tell me if we were still together?"

you look up at him. "you are so good at saying the worst things possible. you could have said anything in this situation and that's what you came up with?"

he blinks and glances away awkwardly. "it was just a thought."

"maybe it's better that we're over. you don't even know who i am underneath this mask."

getou traces the edges of it and you let him, feeling the familiar caress, the familiar scratch of his callouses that remind you he is just like you, another person hiding under a mask, another person juggling an ordinary persona and the responsibility of great power.

one of his fingers tucks underneath the black material before pausing. "can i?"

for a second, you almost let him do it, heart leaping to your throat.

a single droplet that had been clinging to the front bangs of your hair, falls, and slides down on the space between your eyes before splashing on his cheek. the sight is enough to bring you to your senses.

you interlace his hand on your cheek and drag it away, holding it still against the floor beside his head. his face falls and he gives you a slight smile, like he expected it.

"that's a no, spiderman."

getou looks at you and it's the type of look he gets when he says the wrong thing at the wrong time. "it wasn't you, it was me."

"oh god, spider, you do not get to say that corny shit to me."

"but it was me." he says. "i couldn't make it right between us because of the hero thing and well, you're not exactly the best person to have as a hero, but i still want the best for you, i hope you know. like, i still think about you sometimes and i wonder if you're doing well and, god i'm doing it again aren't i."

"yeah you are."

"but your breathing is getting choppy."

"so is yours."

"oh god."

he doesn't lean in and you don't either. instead, you keep playing with his sweater, hoping that the atmosphere will lighten and return to something comfortable. keep him on his toes, keep him red and hanging off your every word, keep him trailing after you. it was never supposed to turn on you like this.

but getou knows better. he doesn't even tense under your trailing finger and you think, "that's no fun" but you would be lying if you said that was your only thought. he doesn't give you the reaction you want, so eventually you stop and sink into his chest. he wraps his arms around you and it feels so natural, so familiar that you could almost sob.

but even you wouldn't risk such a big loss to your image, so you stay quiet.

"i'm taken now, you know." getou clears his throat awkwardly, and you feel the rumble under you. "so don't think this is anything."

you laugh in his embrace. "just friends."

"right. just friends."

i know this didn't have any of the black cat x spiderman dynamic, for one black cat (you 🫵) is literally going through it but that's because i sped wrote this 😭 the oneshot i'll post later this week (?) will have the usual banter but w gojo intead, i just got hit with some severe writer's block and thought hey what's super easy to write : angst !!

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ making the bed !

pairing: hueningkai x slightly toxic!reader summary: life was miserable for you. it wasn't for kai. and while he could never change your circumstances, he was there for you. word count: 0.6k extra: inspired by olivia rodrigos making the bed ! and it's not happy. y/n has mental health issues !! implied death of a loved one . lots of mentions of being drunk .

you were notoriously aggressive. not in a negative way, just well... set in your ways. you always got what you wanted in the end, even if you didn't always go about it in the best ways. which is why it was shocking huening kai was so drawn to you.

kai was thoughtful, where you were thoughtless. not much happened in your brain before you made a decision (not that you were dumb anything, you just were brash!!!) yet kai was meticulous, calculating.

to you, everything was a sign for something else. you played pretend, dressing up behind fake smiles and forced laughter. there was such little joy left in your life. anything fun you somehow managed to ruin.

and kai was all too familiar with your behaviour. it worried him.

some nights, you would disappear, only to show up at his door at an ungodly hour. drunk. only propped up by two slightly-sober friends. he'd let you stay with him. he knew you couldn't go home. not like that.

yet come morning, you'd be gone. you'd push and push him away for around a week, then show up drunk once again. your drunken confessions usually lasted under ten minutes, yet they made everything make sense.

you were miserable with your life.

you were more miserable when you would startle awake in the middle of the night, kai instantly rushing to your side.

he was always there.

he had to be.

the one night he wasn't, everything changed.

"i’m sorry, i heard about-" kai began, already fumbling for words. what do you say to someone who may lose the person they hold closest to their heart? there is nothing to say. nothing to fix the wrongs.

"don't. she is not your sister lying on that hospital room." you snapped, yet there was no visible anger in your eyes. not towards kai at least. towards the world, maybe. but not towards him. you were hurting.

"i know what it feels like to have someone you care about in danger. when there's nothing you can do for the one you love. all there's left to do is sit through the storm, and pray it doesn’t sweep them away."

two years.

every night whilst you slept terribly, battling the nightmares, he sat awake in bed, wondering what could have been different had he been there.

he brought it up once to a friend, who simply laughed in his face. they told him you had a 'victim complex'.

you were fucked in the head, basically.

and kai knew that if there was even any truth to that statement, you were already trying to fix that. you were seeing someone, getting help. your life was out of your control, and you were working to get it back.

some days were simply worse than others, for both you and kai. you teetered on the edge of love. drunkenly, you would tell him you loved him. and stupidly, he would believe it.

a chemical imbalance in your brain. or so kai tried so hard to believe. anything besides the choice that sometimes, you were just cruel.

it was hard to believe that, though. because when you were good, god you were amazing. you could be so sweet, so apologetic. you regretted being who you were. and it was obvious to kai when you would cry into his sweater, a sobbing mess.

you, at the end of the day, were the one who made all those bad decisions. you were suffering the consequences. you were the one to blame. there was nowhere to hide. accountability was knocking on your door. and while you refused to answer it for the time being, kai would be there when you were ready.

he always would. you're the one making the bed, but kai would always be by your side.

authors note : this is the one based off of making the bed! i am a terrible person. i don't know why i chose to injure a sibling. maybe cuz i feel like ive lost mine idk. lol. idk i might go on hiatus im not doing the best rn and i think how terrible this is reflects that like this was just projection.

©2024 — all rights reserved to hueningsloverr , please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[putuponpercy]

Hi I haven't written a fic for this fandom in over a year but I saw the first couple paragraphs in my drafts last night and went in a trance at 1am finishing it anyways here's a little snippet from The Early Days section of my They're Just People AU enjoy

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Thomas glared at the small flock of seagulls a short distance away, fighting over the small scraps of food Edward threw in their direction. "You shouldn't feed them.”

His colleague merely shrugged. "A little won't do too much harm," he said, chucking another scrap towards the hungry birds.

"Nasty things," grumbled Thomas, shaking his head. "Lost many a decent meal to them back when I was on the streets.”

"Well you needn't have to worry about that now. You're plenty fed.”

A tut and an eye roll was Thomas' only response.

Come to think of it, the young’un had been in a particularly sour mood for the majority of the day. More so than usual. Reaching into his lunchbox, Edward pulled out half a sandwich then held it out to his companion. “Sarnie for your thoughts?”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “Ain't tuna is it?”

“Chicken and sweetcorn.”

Satisfied Thomas plucked the sandwich from Edward’s grasp, wasting no time in scarfing it down while Edward waited patiently for his colleague to spill the beans. He didn't pressure Thomas, even after the young lad had finished eating and opted for fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater in silence. He knew Thomas would speak up in his own time. For whatever reason, ever since that fateful night the pair crossed paths at Barrow Central Thomas had chosen to put his full unwavering trust in Edward, although Edward wasn't exactly sure why. All he did was offer the lad a hot meal in exchange for getting him and his engine across the bridge.

“Reggie and Bart returned to the Main Land this morning.”

Speaking of.

Edward's brow raised in surprise. “Have they? Huh… that's the first I've heard of it.”

“And Alfie and Raymond are leaving this evening,” continued Thomas. “Isaac and Harry too.”

Humming, Edward grabbed the flask sitting next to his lunchbox. He unscrewed the cap and took a small sip of his tea. “Seems more and more are heading back by the day.” After another sip he gave a reassuring smile. “Worry not, I'm sure it'll be us soon.”

“And then what? What happens after we leave here?”

“Well… I suppose it's back to passenger trains and goods runs across the Furness line. Shame really. Not that I'm complaining, no. But Sodor’s been a breath of fresh air I suppose. Nice to feel useful after…” Edward trailed off, trying to shake off the memories of how his coworkers back on the Main Land often spoke down or belittled him. “Still, the Furness Railway is my home.”

The two lapsed into silence, though it wasn't comfortable, the air still felt as if something was left unsaid. Taking a quick peek at his pocket watch, Edward wasted no more time in packing up his lunchbox. “Right, come along you. Sir Topham Hatt wanted to see us before our goods train this afternoon.”

“Is’at right? What could the Fat Controller want to see us for?”

Edward tsked. “I do wish you wouldn't entertain the other's idea of such a demeaning nickname.”

Thomas waved him off. “Shove off will ya, it's not like we call him that to his face.”

“I dare wonder if that makes it even worse.” Shaking his head, Edward continued, “Regardless, we should make haste. Who knows, perhaps he'll tell us our loan period is up ‘an all. That this time tomorrow we'll be the ones crossing that bridge back to the Main Land!”

“Back to Furness Railway, you mean?” Thomas asked quietly, expression unreadable.

“Precisely.” Tilting his head to one side, Edward frowned. “Hadn't we just gone over that?”

Abruptly, Thomas stood, balling his fists at his sides. “But Edward- I don't work for Furness Railway, remember? You picked me up off the streets because you didn't have a fireman. What's going to happen to me once we go back? They'll kick me out the moment they realise I'm not one of them! I can't go back to living on the streets, Edward - I can't go - I don't want to go back there! I-”

Two warm hands gently clasped Thomas’ own that had found their way up to gripping his hair somewhere amidst his panic. “Thomas, I need you to breathe for me. Deep breaths now, in - and out. Good lad, and again.”

Thomas followed suit, taking a few shaky breaths. When had his breathing gotten out of control? When did he start crying for Christ's sake? His hands slowly lowered from his head, feeling Edward give them one last reassuring squeeze before pulling away. “...sorry,” he said pathetically.

“Don't be daft, you've got nothing to be sorry for,” Edward replied without a beat. His gaze softened. “I should apologise. I had no idea how distraught you had been feeling about all this. I just wished you had brought it up sooner rather than letting it build up like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said again. “It's just that, coming here - to Sodor - has been the best thing to ever happen to me, least from what I remember. I have a roof over me head, I don't have to worry about when my next meal will be, I have a job, and you- Edward you've been ever such a good friend to me.” He paused, batting a hand across his damp cheek. “I'm terrified to lose it all.”

Edward swallowed a lump in his throat at being called ‘friend’. He never had quite gotten along with his coworkers back home, so in a sense, Thomas was his first real friend since joining the railway. He placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “I wouldn't be such a good friend if I allowed you to go back to living on the streets, would I?”

Confused, Thomas asked, “But where else would I go?”

Edward shrugged. “Well, while my flat isn’t exactly grand in size I'm sure there's some room to squeeze you in.”

Blue eyes widened. “What? You're saying I can come live with you?”

“I mean- only if you'd like to-”

“Of course!” Thomas cried, leaping over to squeeze the other in a hug. “Thank Edward, thank you! I won't cause no bother I swear!”

Edward grinned. “No bother? That doesn't sound quite like you,” he teased, giving the other lad a pat on the back.

Pulling away, Thomas matched him with a cheeky smile of his own. “Well- within reason, of course.”

“Of course. And I'm sure we can try and get you work on their railway, although the chances are it won't be as my fireman, there are still plenty of opportunities. Even if it's something as giving Old Coppernob’s engine a good polish.”

“As long as it's nothing to do with stinky fish I'm up for anything!”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, Edward took another glance at his pocket watch and almost gawked at the time. “Right, come along you, we're running late! Don't want to keep the Fat - I mean - Sir Topham Hatt waiting.”

Renewed with energy and anticipation for the future the pair climbed aboard their engine together ready to tackle the rest of the day ahead, unbeknownst to them that the Fat Controller was about to drop the bombshell that Furness Railway had expressed that they now had zero interest in having Edward, nor his engine, return home to them.