#yes i did another one but with the openers

[jinhyun]

—in your hands.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, best friend’s little brother au, friends to lovers

word count: 7.2k

summary: after a love confession and a few kisses took place the night before, it was finally time for you and Hyunjin to calmly talk things out and figure out where you were currently standing.

author’s note: here she is!! there is a lotttttt of talking and dialogue in this part, i feel like i should apologise lol. but anyway, the lovebirds needed to talk and, oh boy, talk they did. as always i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please let me know by leaving an ask or a comment<3

You’d woken up next to Hyunjin once before in your life; a little over a month before, when the two of you passed out on your couch on New Year’s and ended up cuddling through the night somehow.

You remembered opening your eyes and panicking when you realised your face was resting on his chest and his arms were loosely wrapped around you.

You didn’t want to move away and wake him up back then, but, at the same time, you didn’t want him to potentially feel uncomfortable if he woke up and found out the current position you were in. So, in the end, after some careful consideration, you did what seemed like the right thing to do: pull away from him and sit up on the couch, which inevitably resulted in him waking up as well and understanding what was going on right away.

This time, it was different.

Yes, you were once again met by his chest as soon as you opened your eyes, and his arms were one more time around you — although tightly this time, keeping you from pulling away from him through the night. However, this time you didn’t panic, but smiled instead.

Managing to pull away from him just enough to be on his eye level, you stared at his relaxed, beautiful features. From his thick eyebrows and closed eyelids, to his round nose, to those plump lips of his you’d got to kiss the night before.

You felt your cheeks burn at the still fresh memory. Although flustered by it, you couldn’t help but reminisce how good his mouth felt on yours, how hard your heart was pounding against your chest, and how you wished he’d kissed you for a little longer.

Freeing one of your arms from his hold, you reached your hand up to tenderly remove a strand of hair that was covering his eyes and tickling the bridge of his nose — then just leaving your hand there for a little longer, as your fingertips faintly traced his skin while you quietly admired him.

A part of you couldn’t believe he had been there for you all this time and you were only now noticing him. He was without a doubt the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on, but you didn’t feel any sort of attraction to him up until this year. And now that you did, now that you got to feel his lips on yours and see a side of him you never thought you would, you wondered how come it took you this long to see him in a different light.

Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead —and smiling to yourself when you watched the corners of his mouth curve up at the lingering contact—, you somehow went out of your way to remove his arms from your figure without waking him up.

You weren’t expecting him to come over last night, and you most definitely weren’t expecting him to spend the night; therefore, you had not restocked your groceries and were left with nothing to offer him for breakfast.

You made sure he was truly not waking up any time soon before you got off the bed and chose a rather cozy outfit for the day, so you could go to the bathroom and get ready to go to the grocery store around the corner while he got some more sleep.

You should’ve known better than to actually believe he would get another hour or two of sleep after you left his side, because not even two minutes into the store, your phone was buzzing in your pocket and his contact was showing up on the screen.

“Hey, you’re up” you greeted sweetly after taking the call.

“I didn’t take you for the kiss and dip type” he hoarsely called you out, regardless of the smile you could hear curving up his lips.

“No hello?” You joked. “How are you?”

“You’re the one who abandoned me, you don’t get to call me out”.

You chuckled at his over dramatic ways. “You’re literally at my place, it doesn’t work like that”.

“Well, you’re not in bed with me, so…”

“I thought of staying in bed for a while, but then I realised I was out of food” you explained. “I came to the grocery store around the corner, won’t take long”.

He whined. “We could’ve gone together later”.

“You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up” you pouted. “Besides, I didn’t think you’d wake up before I came back. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” he mumbled, and you heard him shift in your bed. “Or better yet, make it five”.

“I’m still missing half of the things I need to get” you amusedly informed him, going over to check a pack of eggs. “Is there anything you’d like for breakfast?”

“You”.

You stopped in your tracks the moment that simple yet bold answer abandoned his lips, being too stunned to come up with a witty answer like you usually would.

You were still getting used to his newfound boldness, but you would lie to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy the butterflies flying around your stomach whenever he said something like that.

A breathy laugh of his was heard on the other side of the line the next second, when you remained silent and it hit him just how flustered he’d make you.

“Are you still drunk?” You were unable to hide both your amusement and disbelief.

“No,” he chuckled. “I didn’t mean it like that”.

He did.

“You didn’t now?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Can you come back already?” He changed the topic, earning a light laugh from you. “I just wanna be with you, I’m not even hungry”.

“You still need to eat something, though” you argued. “Like I said, I’ll be there in ten”.

“Too long” he let out a heavy sigh.

“You can go back to sleep in the meantime” you suggested. “Or make yourself some coffee, you know where everything is”.

“Yeah, that sounds good” he hummed. “I'll freshen up a bit first”.

“There are towels on the upper shelf of my closet, in case you’d like to take a shower” you let him know. “There should also be a spare toothbrush you can use in the second drawer of my bathroom”.

He laughed lightly, rather dreamily, but ultimately said nothing.

“What…”

“Nothing, you’re cute” he said softly. “Come back here already”.

“I would go back faster if we stopped talking, honestly” you chuckled. “You’re kinda keeping me distracted right now”.

“Okay, I’m hanging up then. Don’t take too long”.

Looking at your screen when you heard him hang up on you, you rolled your eyes in amusement, laughing to yourself over how silly he was before you shoved your phone into your pocket and focused back on the eggs you’d been previously checking out.

The faster you got everything on your list, the faster you’d be back at yours with Hyunjin.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Being driven by seeing him again, you were entering your place again not even ten minutes later, carrying the groceries you had rushed to get.

You didn’t even have to announce that you were back, for Hyunjin came out of your bedroom right as you began to change into your slippers by the door.

You were greatly surprised by the sight of him in sweatpants and a black tank top that let you appreciate his toned arms, unlike the matching sweatshirt he’d worn last night. You guessed the tank top had been underneath it all along, and you were only now lucky enough to see it thanks to the hot shower he must’ve taken not long ago, since he was drying his hair with one of your towels right then.

“Hey…” you greeted him, feeling your cheeks burn when his eyes locked with yours; as you were once again invaded with memories of his pretty lips on yours the night before.

“Hey,” he smiled sweetly, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.

Without another word, he hung the towel on the back of your couch and went up to you, so he could pull you to his chest and feel you close like he had been craving since the moment he woke up and realised you weren’t next to him.

A loving sigh abandoned your lips when you felt his arms securely wrap around you, being hit with the realisation that you had also missed him those few minutes you’d been away from him.

Carefully dropping the bags you were holding on the floor, you wrapped your arms around him as well, feeling him relax under your touch and then lower his head so he could nuzzle the crook of your neck.

You jumped at the contact of his wet hair against your skin, earning light laughs from both of you.

“How’d you sleep?” You asked him softly.

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the way he smiled against you. “Better than ever”.

You chuckled, pulling him away by his shoulders and taking a careful look at him before you tenderly ran a hand through his damp locks. “No hangover?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Just thirsty”.

His remark got a laugh from you. “I figured you would be, so I brought you some isotonic water… as well as some medicine, just in case”.

He smiled brightly, not even needing to say ‘thank you’ for you to get the memo. Although he did say it anyway, in the softest of tones, that only you got to hear coming from him.

He swore to God he felt like marrying you right then and there every single time you looked after him like that.

“Are you hungry?” You interrupted his sudden fantasy, but still all he could focus on was the way your hand travelled down from his hair to his nape. “I’ll go make us some breakfast now”.

“I’ll help you” he offered, leaning down to pick up the bags you had left on the floor a minute ago.

“It’s okay, you can go rest a bit more” you followed him into your kitchen.

“No, I want to be with you” he said truthfully, placing the bags on the counter.

You let out an over dramatic sigh as you went to the cabinet to grab a pan, in order to get started with breakfast,. “I made sure to be extra quiet this morning so you’d sleep until breakfast was ready…”

He chuckled, going over to you and hugging you from behind. “If you wanted me to get some more sleep, then you shouldn’t have left me all alone to freeze in your ice cold bed”.

“My bed is not cold at all, you drama queen” you called him out.

“Okay, maybe I overdid it a little,” he admitted, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking up at you. “Next time just stay in bed with me, hm? I’ll take you out for breakfast after cuddling for a little longer”.

“Next time?” You cocked an eyebrow, looking down at him like you weren’t just melting at his way with words.

“Well, I already have my own toothbrush in your bathroom, so…”

“Oh, yeah, that certainly grants you free will to stay over whenever you want” you amusedly rolled your eyes.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind holding you all night long again”.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest and silently looking down for a moment before you turned around, having his hands go right back to your waist as your eyes locked with his.

Since he’d brought the previous night up, it felt like the opening you needed to talk about the things that were left unsaid.

“What happened last night…” you fidgeted with the paws of your sweater, catching his attention while you looked for the right words and earned enough courage to look up at him. “You meant it?”

“I meant everything I said, Y/N” he answered in a heartbeat. “I meant kissing you as well, I thought I made it very clear?”

“No, yeah, you did” you agreed, nervously looking down once again. “It’s just that you had been drinking and you did say once that you tend to get quite touchy when you’re like that, so… I guess I just wanted to hear it again now that you’re sober”.

“Well, I’m telling you again now, Y/N,” he gently tilted your head up, making you look at him again. “I love you”.

Just like the night before, your heart skipped a beat.

“I know you might not want to hear that right now, but I do. And, like I told you, kissing you meant the world to me. The alcohol only helped me to finally let out what I’d been bottling up for ages, so… I really did mean everything last night”.

You believed him when he said it the first time last night, but hearing him say that now, staring into your eyes when you knew he was in all his senses, could only make your heart hurt in the best of ways.

“Did you mean what happened last night?” It was his turn to ask.

He sounded almost scared of your possible answer, but you nodded the next second, and he felt like he could breathe again.

“I like you, Hyunjin. As in, I do feel something for you” you confessed, unaware of what your words had just done to his heart. “But, like I said, I’m not ready—I just… I only very recently realised it, so I’m still trying to figure out the extent of my feelings for you. Honestly, had it not been for Chan, I probably still wouldn’t have realised any of it until your confession”.

“Chan?” He asked.

“Mhm…” you nodded. “He kinda opened my eyes after your parents invited us for lunch the other week, I was convinced you were only being friendly until then”.

“So I really owe him a big one, huh?” He laughed under his breath, stealing a small laugh from you as well. “I was flirting so hard with you, Y/N, I still don’t get how you didn’t notice”.

“I don’t know, I just… I wasn’t looking for romance anywhere; and you have always been so lovely with me, only that now you were getting bolder, but… other than that there wasn’t much difference, I thought you were being friendly”.

“There’s a reason why I’ve always been so lovely to you, though” he pointed out. “You’re the only one I treat like that, it was never me just being friendly…”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“You know what I mean” he smiled timidly.

You remained silent for a moment, staring at him in an attempt to confirm what you were thinking. “How long have you…”

“Over six years now?” He tilted his head, understanding what you meant even when you didn’t finish your sentence. “Going on seven”.

“Hyunie, that’s…”

“Insane?” He completed for you with a nervous chuckle. “Yeah…”

You shook your head no, having trouble taking this new bit of information in. “I was in a relationship for four of those years…”

“I know,” he nodded. “Hurt like hell”.

You fell silent, taking in this new piece of information and being hit with all the times Mingyu complained about Hyunjin and how clearly in love he was with you.

You always brushed it off and told him to open his eyes, for Hyunjin was only Yeji’s little brother and, therefore, he saw you as a sister figure as well. You were now discovering that the one who needed to open her eyes were you.

You never suspected a thing. When you recently met, you thought he was shy around everyone. Then when you were comfortable enough around each other, you thought he was that kind to everyone. You thought he cared about everyone, he wanted to help everyone, he was friendly to everyone.

Turned out neither did he treat everyone like that, nor was he being friendly with you all along. It just came off like that to you, because you never expected him to have feelings for you.

However, looking back to all those times now, you were still unable to see the signs. You were unable to pinpoint when it all had started, as the only change in his behavior —and in your relationship as a whole— you perceived had been this year. He had always acted the same around you ever since you met, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had at some point done something for him to get the wrong idea and change the way he saw you.

“Hyunie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know” you apologised. “When did you even—Did I mislead you at some point?”

“You didn’t. It was all on me, trust me” he smiled bittersweetly.

“Honestly?” You pushed it.

“Mhm… honestly” he reassured you, holding your hands in his and rubbing his thumbs on the back of them, as if wanting to comfort you over what he was about to say. “Remember when you stayed with us that weekend when something went down at your dorm?”

“The time we met?” You asked.

He nodded. “That’s when I fell for you. I just saw you enter the room and that was it for me”.

There it was, the reason why you never felt a switch in the way he acted around you; why you couldn’t tell the difference between his kindness and his romantic interest towards you.

He had fallen for you the first time he saw you, and you had gotten that version of him since the beginning — when he was too young for you to look at him with other eyes, and even for you to ever suspect he felt anything other than simple platonic affection for you.

You hurt for him. He had loved you all these years and you had not once given the way he treated you a second thought until last month. How could you have been so blind?

“You’re serious?” You murmured.

“I’m always serious when it comes to you” he gently caressed your chin.

“I’m so sorry, Hyunie. I had no idea, I feel awful…”

“Don’t,” he stopped you. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. All you did was show up and I took it from there”.

“Still, if only I had known…”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. I was a minor back then; and when I wasn’t anymore, although we did grow closer for a while there, you fell in love with Mingyu”.

You felt like crying. You knew what it was for the person you loved to fall for someone else, and you couldn’t believe you were the one to make him experience that sort of heartbreak.

“I’m so sorry…” you apologised one more time.

No matter how many times you said it, it didn’t feel like enough.

“Baby, it wasn’t your fault” he reassured you once more — the pet name he’d called you last night slipping through his tongue yet again, and somehow managing to put your heart at ease whilst simultaneously making it go wild.

“When we got close back in your first year of uni, like you just mentioned… you were…” your sentence was left unfinished, but he nodded, understanding what you were trying to ask. You closed your eyes to compose yourself at his silent confirmation. “And then I started dating Mingyu and distanced myself from you…”

“What else were you supposed to do?” He tried to comfort you, and you couldn’t help but internally laugh at the irony of it. He was trying to comfort you over breaking his heart back then. You could truly cry right then. “You didn’t see me like that and fell for him, it wasn’t something you could control”.

“I would’ve been more lowkey about my relationship with him, though…” you mumbled. “Wouldn’t have mentioned him in your presence. Definitely wouldn’t have brought him along the times I knew you’d be there”.

“Now that would’ve brought you so much trouble with him…” he smiled softly. “He wasn’t precisely my biggest fan, was he?”

“Yeah… you’re right” you mumbled. It wouldn’t have been an easy situation to handle. “Still, I would’ve been more mindful about it”.

“You’re so cute” he appreciated the sentiment. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep it going on forever, though. I mean, it’s been over six years and I was nowhere near getting over you when you guys broke up”.

“You had two girlfriends, though…”

“And there’s a reason it didn’t work out with any of them” he shamefully pointed out.

“I don’t know what to say…” you shook your head. “I don’t wanna hurt you anymore, Hyunjin”.

“Why would you hurt me now?”

“My feelings for you are so recent, I don’t want us to… rush into something while I haven’t figured out the extent to them. Then there’s also the whole thing with Mingyu, because although I like to believe I’ve moved on, it did still sting when I saw him kiss Hayun only a couple of weeks ago… and I told you so” you suddenly felt guilty; had you known he had feelings for you back then, you would never have bothered him with your ‘ex boyfriend drama’. “I don’t know if it stung because of him or because the situation is just shitty, so I don’t know if I’m fully over him yet, and when you and I are together I want to be one hundred percent devoted to you”.

Hyunjin smiled.

‘When you and I are together’.

‘Devoted to you’.

That sentence alone was enough for him not to dwell on your residual feelings for your ex.

Even if it was unconsciously, the way you had phrased it let him know you wanted to be with him at some point.

He couldn’t wait for that day to come, when you were as devoted to him as he was to you.

“And now there’s the situation with Dahye as well…”

“I thought we cleared that up last night?” He questioningly tilted his head.

“We did, but that’s not the point…”

“What’s the point then?”

“I was left with a lot of trust issues to deal with…” you explained. “I know you’re not like him, but I can’t help but be paranoid when it comes to other girls or to you simply getting tired of me at some point”.

“Y/N, I would never do any of those things” he reassured you. “I would never do anything to hurt you”.

You smiled weakly. You believed him, you really did; but that was what he said now given what he felt for you in the present. Nothing could assure you that he would always love you, and so you would have to just take the risk and leave your heart in his hands if you wanted to be with him. That was what terrified you.

“I want to be with you, Hyunie, but I’m just too scared of love and romance right now…” you timidly admitted. “And when Dahye told me all those lies, although it did sound very off to me, a part of me couldn’t help but be scared that maybe she wasn’t lying”.

“So a part of you believed her…”

“I’m sorry…” you apologised. “The way she described you didn’t sound like you, not the way I see you, at least. And it didn’t match what you told me about your relationship with her, but I thought… we weren’t together, so you didn’t really have to tell me the truth, or even the whole story… you were free t—you are free to be with whoever you want and don’t owe me any explanations, so…”

“I only want to be with you, though” he cupped your face, telling you exactly what you needed so badly to hear. “And I guess you could say I don’t owe you explanations, but I want to give them to you. I like to believe we’d both explain something that’s bothering the other”.

You weakly nodded. “I’d like to believe that, too”.

Hyunjin smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before his hands were firmly placed on your waist and he lifted you up with ease.

“Okay now,” he sat you down on the kitchen counter, pulling you closer to the edge of it and resting his hands on your waist. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“It didn’t make much sense,” you fidgeted with the necklace falling over his chest. “But it was pretty much that I should stay away from you because you guys had this ‘fuck buddies’ relationship going on for years now, and that even if you got in a relationship with someone else, you’d go back to her every time”.

Hyunjin sighed, growing visibly angry at both Dahye and the situation itself.

He told her not to mess with you, and she did exactly that. Still, he didn’t believe she would go as far as to come up with a whole fantasy of them being sexually —and emotionally?— involved in order to keep you away from him.

He didn’t know what else she was capable of after this, and he most certainly didn’t want to find out, nor did he want to even give her the chance to mess around with your relationship one more time.

“What are you doing?” You asked when he dug his hand in his pocket and took out his phone.

“Blocking her” he simply replied as he unlocked it.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to—”

“I told her I would block her if she messed with you,” he let you know, locking his determined eyes with yours. “And that’s what she did, so…”

Eyes going back down to his mobile, he went to their Twitter chat and then pressed on her profile — blocking her right before your eyes without even giving it a second thought.

Maybe he should’ve given her a piece of his mind before cutting her off, and a part of him really wanted to tell her a thing or two, but at this point he just couldn’t give a fuck.

He was tired.

He could’ve lost you because of her, and he was never forgiving her for it.

If hanging out with his friends became awkward after this or he straight up had to turn them down not to run into her, then so be it. They were his friends, not hers; and God knows he was tired of having to deal with her whenever he wanted to spend some time with them.

“I already told you last night, but she lied. She made it all up” he repeated what he’d already let you know. “There isn’t much more to the story than what I’ve told you. We kissed at a party like two years ago, I was drunk, didn’t remember, told her it meant nothing, and she hasn’t left me alone since. That’s literally all there is to it” his genuine words were enough to put both your heart and mind at ease. “We’re were never even friends, the only reason I put up with her for so long was not to make it awkward for my friends. We were never fuck buddies either; I’ve never had that kind of dynamic with anyone, actually. And me going back to her is ridiculous, the only person I’d keep going back to over and over is you, which is kinda what happened both times I tried to move on with someone else, as shitty of me as it was”.

With that said, he handed you his phone.

Looking down at it, you realised he had opened back his chat with Dahye, which was now showing a message at the bottom that let you know her contact had successfully been blocked.

“What is it?” You asked regardless, hesitant to take a look and let alone to hold his phone in your hands.

“Our chat. She doesn’t even have my phone number, Y/N. That’s how close we are” his sarcasm managed to get a smile out of you. “You can read our texts if you want. The last conversation is the most important one, but you can go through all of them if you want”.

Taking one look at his phone in his hand, you refused his offer. “It’s okay, Hyunie. I trust you”.

And for you to say that when you had just let him know how hard it was for you to put your trust in someone else again a minute ago, meant the world to him.

“This isn’t a matter of whether you trust me or not, though. If it helps your mind feel more at peace then I have no problem showing it to you”.

“Your chats are private, I shouldn’t—”

“There’s nothing private between me and Dahye” he clarified in a heartbeat, speaking clear enough to make sure his words got through your head. “The last time we talked she found out I was in love with you and threatened me with telling you. That’s why I misunderstood everything last night”.

“That’s why you thought I was turning you down?” Your heart hurt for him once more, as it seemed to be usual for you to unintentionally break his heart.

He nodded, leaving his phone next to you on the counter. “I thought she told you about my feelings for you, and that you were distancing yourself from me because you didn’t feel the same and were thinking of the right way to let me down easily. And then when you said you wouldn’t be able to let yourself fall for me if what she said was true, I just…”

He shrugged, looking elsewhere as he remembered how unbearable the pain in his heart had been last night.

Catching on his hurt, you pulled him to your chest, feeling him relax inside your arms before he tightly wrapped his own around you as well.

“I took some distance because I didn’t want to jump into conclusions and needed some time to think…” you clarified.

“I know that now, baby” he hummed.

You smiled softly, holding him tighter and planting a small kiss on the crown of his head.

“I’m sorry I put you through so much”.

“It’s okay” he kissed your shoulder, going back to your eye level. “Anyway, if you change your mind later on, my password is my birthday as well”.

“Oh, so you’re just as basic as me” you smiled widely, allowing a small giggle to escape your mouth when he rolled his eyes at you.

“I don’t have it as the passcode to my place though, now that’s just unsafe as hell” he taunted you, pulling you closer to him and nuzzling your neck. “Although I might change it to yesterday’s date now”.

“The day you got drunk and disrupted my very peaceful sleep?” You teased him.

“Oh, absolutely” he played along, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Which also happened to be the night we first kissed, so…”

He could feel your cheek burn against his hand, and how your eyes had naturally fixed on his mouth at the sound of that, just like his eyes had been going back to your lips throughout your entire conversation.

He was dying to kiss you again, and he could only curse the promise he made last night not to kiss you again starting this morning. At least not until you decided you were ready to kiss him without feeling like you were leading him on.

“You’re making it really hard for me not to fall for you…” you whispered against his lips, only then having him snap out of it and realise how close he had unconsciously leaned in.

Fuck, you were making it so hard for him not to kiss you.

“That’s good, because I want to make you fall for me” he smiled, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, in a poor attempt to put some distance in between your mouths. “Will you let me?”

“Let you what?”

“Make you fall for me?” He asked, locking eyes with you. “I know you need to figure things out, and I’m giving you all the time you need, but in the meantime can I just try and make you fall for me?”

You hesitated. “I don’t want to lead you on, Hyunie…”

“I wouldn’t mind it, though…”

“Hyun…” you sighed.

“We kissed last night, Y/N, and now you’re telling me you do feel something for me. How would that be considered leading me on when there is an actual chance of you falling in love with me, too?”

“I thought your feelings for me were kinda recent too, and that we were both figuring it out, but now that I know you’re in love with me it feels cruel to keep flirting with you and treating you the way I did…” you went back to fidgeting with his necklace. “We’re not on the same level yet. I’m still scared to love someone again and to be in a relationship… there’s still a mess in my head and dragging you with me while I try to figure it out is just…”

“My heart is already in your hands, Y/N. It’s up to you what you choose to do with it and I’ll respect your final decision regardless of what it is” he promised. “Whether we’re together or not, I already got dragged into this. All I’m asking for is a chance. Just one chance to show you that you can trust me and that love doesn’t always have to end in heartbreak” the softness of his voice could make you cave in right then and there. “I can love you right, Y/N. You won’t owe me anything and will have all the time you want to figure your feelings out, but please, just don’t let us lose how far we’ve come. I can’t pretend nothing happened between us and stay away from you while you figure your heart out”.

“Hyunie…”

“Please?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours and tenderly rubbing his thumbs on your sides. “Was today supposed to be some kind of farewell to the way we’ve been acting so far then?”

You pouted, realising then how selfish you were being by acting so lovey dovey with him when you were claiming not to want to lead him on.

Truth was, you were finding it hard to control yourself around him anymore. You wanted to take it slow and make things right with him — you owed him that much. But then again, and most importantly, you wanted to be with him. Even though your feelings were recent, they were taking over your entire being faster than you’d expected.

You wanted to be with him. Whether you were a couple or not, whether you were on the same level when it came to your feelings or not, you wanted to show him how much he meant to you and you wanted to feel how much you meant to him; and it was getting harder and harder for you to hold back when you were together.

Your heart and your mind were at conflict, for the first was telling you to risk it all while the latter warned you to be careful and not to rush into anything.

And in the end, although you wished it wasn’t like that and you knew it was selfish of you, you were already in too deep to take a step back from him while you figured everything out.

When you wouldn’t reply, being too immersed in your internal conflict, Hyunjin faintly brushed his nose with yours, unable to keep his eyes from going down to your mouth before they travelled back to your eyes. “Are we really supposed not to be like this anymore?”

“Now how can’t I give in when you look at me like that and say all those things?” You spoke quietly, sounding almost ashamed you’d given in that easily — and, to some extent, you were.

His lips parted into a beaming smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons. “Is that a yes then?”

“Yes,” you smiled as well, faintly tilting your head to lovingly bump his nose with yours. “We can take it slow, maybe? If you’re up for it…”

“We can take it however you want,” he was quick to reply, earning a light laugh from you. “Although I would appreciate a definition of ‘taking it slow’, so I know what I can and can’t do…”

“I don’t know, I feel like we could keep being the way we were before this whole misunderstanding? You know, test the waters… see what works the best for us and take it from there?”

“Sounds good enough for me” he agreed with a smile. “Can I keep shamelessly flirting with you then?”

You chuckled. “Yes”.

“Can I come over whenever I feel like seeing you?”

“You did that before as well, so yes”.

“Hold your hand? Send you your coffee order and pick you up from work? Cuddle you?” He asked all in a row, and this time you threw your head back as you laughed loudly at his silly antics.

“Yes, Hyunjin. Those were all things you used to do before as well”.

“So what I’m hearing is the only things I can’t do from now on are kissing you and getting too handsy”.

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin…” you called him out with burning cheeks.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Where did the ‘getting too handsy’ part even come from?”

“Well, I probably would’ve at some point last night if you didn’t stop me…”

Too stunned to speak as you felt some kind of electricity run through your body, you fixed your eyes on the door to your right, avoiding his amused eyes while you miserably tried your best to hold back the smile that was already curving up the corners of your mouth.

With a small chuckle, he cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him. “Have I told you before that you’re adorable?”

“Shut up” you playfully pushed his hand away.

Hyunjin laughed loudly, going right back to hold your face, only now with both hands. “So those are the conditions then?”

“I think?”

“Can I take you out on dates?” He asked one last time.

Now, that was kind of a grey zone, for it depended on whether you considered your previous outings and hangouts as dates, so the new ones he was proposing wouldn’t go against the boundaries you had just set when it came to taking it slow.

Nevertheless, even if it meant breaking your own rules, you couldn’t deny that you would die to go on a proper date with him.

“We’ll see” you smiled sweetly, making him smile as well while he tenderly caressed your cheeks. “Since we won’t be taking any distance, though, and we already had a misunderstanding that left us both hurting because of someone else, maybe we could…”

“Not go out with anyone else?” He quietly finished your sentence, when you struggled to come up with the right words.

“Is that too selfish of me to ask?” You asked with a tilt of your head. “I know I’m the one asking for time here, but…”

“No, no. I was going to ask for the same if you didn’t mention it, I’m glad you brought it up” a shy chuckle escaped his lips. “I’m probably the selfish one here because I wasn’t going to anyone else anyway, but I really needed to know you wouldn’t either”.

“You’re quite literally the only guy I’ve looked at with other eyes since I went back to being single, Hyunjin” you confessed, oblivious to how bad his heartbeat was racing because of you. “You really made me go against my wishes to stay away from romance for a good while; I wasn’t going to anyone else anyway either”.

“You mean that?” He mumbled, eyes sparkling as he looked for any sort of amusement in yours.

“Of course I mean it,” you cupped his face with one of your hands, tenderly running your thumb up and down his cheek.

He let out a heavy sigh, letting his face fall to your shoulder. “God, I would’ve died if you fell for someone else”.

“I won’t, Hyunie” you reassured him, running your fingertips up and down his back. “So there’s nothing for you to worry about”.

Choosing to say nothing, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so close to him you could feel the way his body was faintly trembling.

“You’re shaking…” you whispered in concern, tightening your arms around him and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“I can’t believ—I was so scared you’d push me away for good” his voice was muffled against your skin.

“You’re really underestimating how fast you’ve made your way up in my heart” you said softly, making him go back to your eye level and look at you. “I’ll do my best to work on myself so I can give you the love you deserve, hm?”

Hearing you say those words to him so genuinely, left him speechless.

Hearing it coming from your very lips that you wanted to love him right, he could only feel on Cloud Nine, as he was now the closest he’d ever been to being with you the way he had always dreamed of.

All he could do right then was to press a loving kiss to your forehead and then pull you to his chest, securely wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head as he whispered how much he loved you.

He knew you weren’t able to say it back just yet, at least not the way he meant it, but he didn’t mind saying it out loud for you to know. He didn’t mind loving you for longer, and he definitely didn’t mind loving you more. You wanted to get there at some point, and as long as you loved him back in the end, he could take being the one who loved harder in your relationship.

After all, he had left his heart in your hands and had you welcomed it, with the promise to do your best to return the same kind of love he felt for you once you were able to overcome your current fears.

Even if it meant he would have to wait a little longer, the way you smiled against his chest right then, along with the way you held him closer to you as well and ran your fingers up and down his back in the loveliest of ways, were enough to make his heart feel at ease, as he could tell right then that you would be gentle with it and wouldn’t let it break again now that you knew how much love it held for you.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Baby Bang

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warnings: Reader is pregnant (just that, nothing deep)

Genre: established relationship, flufffff

Summary: You've been distant lately, and Chan can't understand why. Because this is very unusual for the two of you as you two are on each other all the time. And Chan panics as you guys are getting married in a few months, and this sudden change is unraveling him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Chan paced the living room, a deep frown etched into his forehead. You hadn’t touched him in days. Weeks, actually. That alone was already a catastrophe, considering the fact that you two were basically like bunnies.

But now? Nothing. You were dodging his touches like he was contagious. He reached for your hand? Oh, look, you suddenly needed both hands to text someone. He tried for a kiss? Whoops, you conveniently yawned. Bedtime? You were already asleep. 

And that diamond ring glittering on your ring finger? It made him wonder if you were regretting saying yes to him already.

He’d spent way too many nights staring at the ceiling, feeling like the universe was punishing him for something he didn't even know he did.

Chan sighed and opened the group chat. This was bad. He needed to vent.

Chan: She’s avoiding me.

A rapid barrage of notifications followed, and Chan barely had time to process one before another arrived. 

Minho: Y/N? The one who’s practically glued to your lap 24/7?

Hyunjin: LMAO. Not possible. I won't believe it.

Seungmin: You obviously did something.

Chan: NO, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!

Chan: She’s been acting weird for WEEKS. 2 weeks to be exact. No kisses. No hugs. No… anything.

Jisung: No sex? BRO. Are you okay?

Felix: What if she’s planning something? Like a surprise? Maybe a wedding thing?

---

Chan paused. That was… not unreasonable. But no. You’d never kept secrets from him before. Like you've given him enough surprises before so he knew this was different.

---

Minho: OR. She’s finally come to her senses about you seducing her into saying yes? 

Chan: Minho. I will come to your house and end you.

Jeongin: But seriously, hyung. Did you say something? Do something? Forget an important date? You’re kind of a workaholic.

---

That hit a little too close to home. Chan frowned, scrolling back through his mental timeline of your relationship.

---

Chan: I didn’t forget anything. I swear. We were fine until a couple weeks ago, and now she’s avoiding me like the plague.

Changbin: Well. There’s only one logical explanation.

Changbin: She’s been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone.

Jisung: YES. I second this. The real Y/N would NEVER do this. 

Felix: Omg guys! 

Chan: GUYS.

Hyunjin: Okay. What if she’s mad because you’re not initiating? She’s waiting for you to grovel.

Seungmin: That makes no sense. If she’s mad, why not just say so?

Hyunjin: IDK, some people like drama.

Jeongin: That’s your toxic trait, Hyung.

Hyunjin: IS NOT!

---

Chan groaned, dropping his phone onto the couch. He missed you. Like, really missed you. Sure, he wanted to rip your clothes off 90% of the time, but he also missed the simple things - your cuddles, your soft laugh, the way you’d always need him by your side when you're stressed. 

The cold shoulders and polite smiles were killing him.

---

Minho: Just confront her, idiot. Corner her in the kitchen and ask her what’s wrong.

Chan: You think I haven’t tried that?! Every time I ask, she changes the subject.

Jisung: Okay, hear me out. Seduction.

Chan: What?

Jisung: Set the mood. Candles. Sexy music. Flex those ridiculous arms. She won’t stand a chance.

Felix: Worth a try. 

---

That night, Chan put the "seduction plan" into action. He dimmed the lights, skipped the candles, and put on a romantic playlist. He even went full drama, lounging on the couch with his shirt conveniently unbuttoned.

When you walked in, your eyebrows shot up as you asked, “What's up?”

Chan said nothing, just held held his hand out.  You froze, guilt flashing across your face, and Chan knew he had you. You placed your hand on his and let him pull you close.

“Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Did I do something wrong?” His voice cracked, and that set you off.

Your eyes filled with tears, and in an instant you were in his lap, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, Channie! I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then why -”

“Shhh,” Chan fell silent as you pressed a finger to his lips. “Just know that I love you, Channie.”

Chan was suspicious. Because, well, you’d shut him up in the best way possible, last night - all he remembered was his shirt coming off and yeah.

You’d seduced him. Thoroughly. And while his brain had short-circuited at that time, he was now absolutely certain that you’d dodged his questions on purpose.

At least he can't complain about you not touching him anymore, right?

---

Chan: It didn't work.

Minho: WHAT didn't?

Chan: She kinda caught me off guard. And avoided my questions.

Jisung: I thought we agreed on YOU seducing her and you got seduced??

Felix: Soooo… you still don’t know what’s going on?

Chan: NO. She’s hiding something, I know it.

Hyunjin: Maybe you’re overthinking. Or, maybe she’s secretly a spy.

Changbin: She’s NOT a spy, Hyunjin. That’s ridiculous.

Hyunjin: And alien clones aren’t?

Minho: Why are we even helping you? You let her seduce you and then just… forgot your goal.

---

Chan groaned, flopping onto his back. It wasn’t his fault! He was weak when it came to you. All it took was a look, or a whisper of his name and his brain turned to mush.

Still, Minho had a point.

---

Chan: Okay, fine. What do I do now?

Felix: She’s probably just stressed? Weddings are a big deal. She might just need time to sort her thoughts.

That gave Chan pause. Weddings were stressful. Maybe that was it?

Hyunjin: My bet’s still on spy.

---

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom, staring at the little plastic stick in your hand for the hundredth time now. You’d known for two weeks, but the reality hadn’t gotten any less terrifying.

You were pregnant. Pregnant. With Chan’s baby.

The thought sent your heart racing. You loved him more than anything, but… you’d never talked about kids. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he panics when you bring it up? 

There were only a few months until the wedding. You didn’t want to dump this on him now and risk throwing him into a spiral.

---

That night, Chan decided to take Minho’s advice (for once). No more distractions. He was getting answers tonight.

When you walked into the living room and his eyes locked onto yours - you froze. He looked so handsome, and a little…worn out? You felt so guilty for doing this. 

“Come sit,” he said, patting the couch beside him.

You hesitated, but complied, heart pounding.

“Baby, we need to talk,” Chan said, his voice soft but firm.

You swallowed hard as you murmured, “About what?”

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. And you obviously don't trust me enough to talk it out. I’m worried. What's going on? Is it the wedding?” He was giving you that puppy eyed look, and your heart shattered.

“No, Channie, it's not like that...”

“Then what is it? Please, just tell me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to spill everything - but then you panicked. The words caught in your throat, and instead, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

Here he was - caught off guard (again) but quickly melting into the kiss. You climbed into his lap, your hands tangling in his hair, and within seconds, all thoughts of questioning were gone.

---

Chan: SHE DID IT AGAIN.

Minho: You’re hopeless.

Seungmin: At this rate, she could rob a bank and get away with it.

Felix: Honestly, I’m impressed.

---

Chan sighed, glaring at the group chat before throwing his phone across the bed. Whatever you were hiding, it was big. And he was determined to find out, one way or another.

Little did he know, in the bathroom, you were rehearsing how to tell him the truth: that in just a few months, he wasn’t just going to be your husband.

He was going to be a dad.

Chan was officially losing it. His imagination had gone to some very dark places (thanks to Changbin’s clone theory and Hyunjin’s spy nonsense), but now he just felt defeated. What was so big and terrifying, that you felt like you couldn’t share it with him?

Chan: I give up. She’s unbreakable.

Jisung: Hey don't lose hope.

Minho: Pathetic.

Jeongin: Just sit her down and don’t let her leave until she talks.

Chan: I’VE TRIED THAT.

Chan was ready to lock himself and you in a room till you cracked, but unfortunately he was already cracking under the stress. And then a lightbulb went off in his head. There was just one person in the world who might be able to get through to you.

Felix.

---

Felix was, to put it lightly, concerned when Chan cornered him in his kitchen.

“Lix, you have to help me,” Chan said, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Help you how?” Felix asked cautiously.

“Can you please try to talk to her?” Chan literally begs. “She loves you, Lix. Maybe she’ll tell you if you ask?”

Felix hesitated, torn between loyalty to Chan, who was literally his brother and his friendship with you. But ultimately, his desire to help won anyway.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”

---

Later that afternoon, you opened the door to find Felix standing on your porch, holding a box of cookies and his sunniest smile. 

“Lixie?” you asked, surprised. “So good to see you!”

“Just wanted to check on you, love,” he said, coming forward to hug you.

You stepped aside to let him in, and the two of you settled on the couch.

“I baked these for you,” he said, watching your reaction closely as you opened the box and munched on a cookie immediately. “You’ve been looking a little stressed lately.”

You stopped mid-chew, guilt gnawing at you.

“I’m fine, Lix. Just… wedding stuff, you know?” you said, carefully avoiding his eyes.

“Is it really just the wedding?” Felix tilted his head, unconvinced.

You froze, your hands tightening around the box.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I won’t judge.” Felix said, reaching out and placing a gentle hand over yours.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and as you put the box aside gently. Felix scooted closer as he saw the tears fall, and before you knew it, the truth came spilling out.

“I’m pregnant, Felix,” you whispered. “And I don’t know how to tell Chan. We’ve never talked about kids, and I don’t even know if he wants them. And now the wedding’s so close, and I’m scared I’ll ruin everything. I already got my wedding dress and I don't think I'll fit into it anymore because by that time-”

Felix’s eyes went wide, and for a moment, he looked like he might burst into tears himself. But then he let out a strangled laugh.

“You’re… you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, sniffled and managed a soft, “Yeah.”

Felix threw his arms around you, nearly knocking you over. 

“Oh my God, Y/N! I’m so happy for you! And for Chan! You’re gonna have the cutest baby in the world!” he gushed, his eyes sparkling with happy tears. 

You couldn’t help but laugh through your own tears. 

“You don't think this is a disaster?” you asked softly, wiping your tears away. 

“Disaster?” Felix pulled back, shaking his head. “Of course not. This is amazing! But you have to tell Chan. He’s going insane trying to figure out what’s wrong.”

“I know,” you said softly. “I just… I’m scared.”

Felix gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Chan loves you more than anything. Trust me, he’s gonna be over the moon. And I'll always be here for you. Seriously, sweetheart, this is the best news ever.”

---

Hyunjin: Well? Did she tell you?

Jisung: SPILL, FELIX.

Chan: Felix? Please. I’m dying here.

Felix hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He couldn’t betray your trust, but he also couldn’t leave Chan hanging.

Felix: She’s okay. She’s just… working through something.

Minho: And you’re being suspiciously vague.

Seungmin: Should've known that sending her best friend to investigate wasn't your strongest idea… obviously he's gonna take her side! 

Felix: I promised I wouldn’t say anything. But it’s nothing bad, I swear.

Chan: Seriously?? Nothing bad? Then why is she avoiding me?

Felix: Just… be patient with her, okay? She’ll tell you when she’s ready. I promise it's all ok. Trust me. 

Chan frowned at the message, his heart twisting.

You had spent the whole night rehearsing what to say to Chan, your stomach churning with nerves. Morning came far too quickly, and as you watched him shuffle into the kitchen with his hair messy and his sleepy face, you nearly chickened out.

But Felix’s words echoed in your head. He’s gonna be over the moon.

“Channie,” you said softly, placing your mug of tea aside and taking a step towards him. 

He looked up from the coffee maker, his sleepy eyes brightening instantly. You were trying to talk to him, and somehow that was enough. Anything was better than you avoiding him. 

“Morning, baby.”

You smiled nervously, gesturing to the table. “Can we talk?”

His brow furrowed, worry flashing across his face as he nodded and sat down opposite you.

“Is everything okay?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you said, “You know how I’ve been… weird lately?”

Chan nodded, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Well,” you continued, “there’s a reason for that. And I’ve been scared to tell you because it’s big. Like, really big.”

“Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise, I’ll handle it.” Chan said, reaching across the table and taking your hand in his.

Your eyes filled with tears as you finally said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Chan froze. Completely. His mouth hung open, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as his brain processed your words.

“You’re… pregnant?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, tears spilling over.

“Yeah. I found out a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with it, or if it was too much with the wedding coming up -”

Chan cut you off by pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. His body shook as he let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and you realized he was crying.

“Channie, are you okay?” you asked nervously, your own voice shaking as you stroked his hair.

“Okay?” he choked out, pulling back to look at you with tear-streaked cheeks and the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “Baby, I’m better than okay. I’m… I’m gonna be a dad?”

You nodded, your heart swelling at the pure joy on his face.

Chan laughed, his tears flowing freely now.

“Holy crap. I don’t know what to say?! We’re having a baby. A baby!”

Before you could say anything else, Chan was  peppering your face with kisses, squeezing you in the tightest hug ever.

“I love you so much. Baby, you’re…I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this on your own.” he said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. 

“I didn’t want to stress you out,” you admitted, clinging to him as he pulled you onto his lap. “And…I've never been more scared about anything my entire life? I mean, I adore you, and I know I want this with you, our baby already means the world to me…but not knowing if you would want that too? It's been killing me, we've never even joked about this before, Channie… “

“You could’ve told me sooner, baby,” he said softly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I thought we were clear about this, with you, I'm ready for anything! But I get it. And I love you even more for worrying about me. But baby, we’re in this together. Always.”

---

Chan: GUYS. I HAVE NEWS. HUGE NEWS 🤩

Jisung: Finally!! 

Hyunjin: I told you she's a spy!! No one ever listens to me!! 

Minho: He’s too happy for that, you idiot.

Chan: WE’RE HAVING A BABY.

Jeongin: Excuse me, WHAT?

Changbin: STOP. Really?! 

Seungmin: Wow, plot twist

Felix: Oh thank godddddd😭😭😭😭

Felix: I was dying here

Chan: SHE TOLD ME THIS MORNING. I’M GONNA BE A DAD. WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS. OMG.

---

It felt like everytime he said it, it felt a little more real.

---

Jisung: Congratulations, bro. Wow. 

Hyunjin: I AM CRYING. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE REPRODUCING.

Chan: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Chan: MY BABYGIRL AND I ARE HAVING A BABY😭💖

Minho: Jokes aside, this is such great news!! Congrats. Now go take care of your pregnant fiancée instead of spamming us.

Chan: I think I'm gonna faint

Changbin: Congrats, bro. But also… HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE SHE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING?

Chan: I NOTICED! I just didn't think she was, you know

Jisung: Avoiding you because she was growing your spawn, apparently.

Hyunjin: “Spawn” makes it sound like a little gremlin. Oh my Gawd 🤣

Felix: STOP. My baby’s gonna be so adorable I’ll CRY 😭

Minho: Okay, Felix, you’re suspiciously calm about this. Did you already know?

Felix: 👀

Hyunjin: YOU KNEW.

Chris: WHAT?? FELIX, YOU KNEW BEFORE ME?!

Felix: SHE TOLD ME FIRST, OKAY? SHE WAS NERVOUS, AND I PROMISED I WOULDN’T SAY ANYTHING.

Jisung: Wow. Betrayal.

Chan: SO YOU JUST LET ME SUFFER FOR WEEKS??

Felix: Yes. And? I'd do it again for her.

Changbin: LMAO savage.

Jeongin: Shame on you for trusting him when everyone knows he works for her

Chan: Thanks for being on her side, Lix

Felix: Anytime 💖

Hyunjin: Omg, imagine Baby Bang. Tiny curls, tiny dimples 😍

Chan: STOP I’M ALREADY CRYING AGAIN 😭

Jeongin: I've never been this excited for a baby really. You'd let us babysit won't you? 

Changbin: Oh yeah. Group uncle duty.

Hyunjin: We're gonna be dancing before we can even walk Baby Bang 🤝

Felix: For sure!

Chan: THANK YOU GUYS FOR BEING EXCITED FOR US!

Jisung: Save your tears for the wedding, Daddy Bang.

Jeongin: When do we throw a baby shower? Felix?

Felix: Already planning it.

Hyunjin: This baby’s gonna be so loved.

Chan: THANK YOU, GUYS. I LOVE YOU ALL 😭

---

Chan added Y/N to the group chat.

Chan: SURPRISE, BABY! WELCOME TO THE CHAOS.

Jisung: AHHH THE QUEEN IS HERE!

Hyunjin: ALL HAIL THE BABY-MAKER 👑

Minho: Congrats on creating life and also tolerating Chan for this long.

Felix: YAYYYYYY YOU’RE HERE! 😭 We’ve been dying to have you here!!!

Jeongin: Thank you for gifting us Baby Bang. We promise to only slightly corrupt them.

Changbin: We’re all crying. I’m crying. Hyung is crying. Everyone’s crying.

Y/N:😂

Y/N: Oh my God, you guys.

Minho: This is us being tame.

Hyunjin: Soooo, what does it feel like, hm? Asking for research purposes, of course

Chan: Oh yeah, totally not gonna run off and impregnate someone 🙄

Hyunjin: What's it to you Christopher? You can do it, but I can't?! 

Chan: Oh please

Minho: I told her to get a collar for this damn puppy and look who's here yapping

Y/N: Leave him alone guys!

Hyunjin: I respect you, Y/N. I respect you. So I'm gonna shut up (Mr Know, let's do this face to face huh)

Minho: Gladly.

Felix: Honestly, Y/N, we’re just honored to be part of this. 

Y/N: Thanks guys, this means a lot to us. 

Changbin: And we’re going to spoil them rotten.

Jeongin: Rotten is an understatement.

Y/N: 🤭🤭🤭

Minho: You won't even know what hit you for the next 18 years. Or 30.

Chan: GUYS. Stop scaring her. Baby, they’re joking.

Felix: We’re not.

Hyunjin: Nope.

Jisung: Absolutely not.

Y/N: I'm all in for that hehe

Chan: I love you guys

Jisung: Chan’s in his feels again.

Felix: We have a wedding and baby shower to plan! 

Hyunjin: OMG. A pregnant bride. You’re gonna be so GLOWY.

Y/N: Thank you for being this excited for us. I love you guys 😭💖

Felix: We love you too!! 🥺💖

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie I

~8.4k words

From me: here she is. gonna be at least one more part (probs 2) sorry. I didn't mean to do a series. I just can't shut up and I introduced too many fun characters. I don't know a lot about hockey so a lot of this is probably unrealistic.

Warnings: douchey ex-boyfriend, a little violent (it's hockey after all)

Summary: When the assistant coach's niece comes to take pictures of the team, her lens isn't the only thing capturing Harry Styles heart and soul on and off the ice. Harry wants to win her over more than he wants to win the entire league championship. (Although it would be nice to rub it in her ex's stupid face if he won that too).

The rink was chilly even with the appropriate clothes on. Despite the fact she practically lived in ice arenas for the two years, it never ceased to catch her off guard with how cold it was. To be fair, she was a lot closer to the ice this time around. Her camera pressed into the little glass cutout, her eye checking the visual before she clicked the shutter.

Quickly she pulled away as two of the guys pressed against the glass right next to her. “Hey Sweetheart,” Noah Ashford smiled briefly as he skated off in the other direction. She rolled her eyes. Uncle Charlie, assistant coach of The Arctic Chargers, warned the entire team that his niece was taking residence at the rink and would be part of media photos, headshots, and would be submitting to all major sport reporting outlets. The team was told without question, not to bother her in any way.

Naturally the group of twenty twenty-something year-old hockey players were going to do nothing of the sort.

Captain Evander Langston swished almost gracefully over to her. He stopped in front of her with a puff of ice at his feet. “Do you think I have a good side?”

She shook her head with a smirk and looked over the photos she just took in the last three minutes. “Probably not the left. You’ve been checked into the board over there about five times this practice alone.”

He put a hand on his chest. “Sweetheart, you wound me.”  Sweetheart was the name Uncle Charlie called her in front of the whole team during the introduction and so it was the only thing any of them paid attention to from their coach. “Don’t say that in front of the others,” he pleaded quietly.

“I would never, Cap,” she smiled kindly.

He returned her grin with his own. “You call me Cap, and I’m going to have a problem with Coach’s rule, Sweetheart. But I know we’re all going to like having you around to keep us in check.”

“Lang, you better not be flirting when your technique needs work!” Kian Calloway shouted across the ice where he slapped a puck into the open net from the blue line.

“You better not be flirting, period, Lang!” Uncle Charlie called.

“Yeah!” Callie repeated to his captain. She had gone over the nicknames with her uncle before starting. Lang, Asher, and Callie were easy and as some of the major stars of the team, it made sense she would chat with them most. “If anyone is going to flirt with her, it’s going to be me!”

“I’ll sit you for less, Callie,” Charlie warned.

She couldn’t help but laugh. But she didn’t mind the attention nor care. It was adorable. Like a group of puppies looking for attention. With a shake of her head, she made her way around the glass and boards for another angle of the players on the ice. She wanted shots of the goalie. Niall Horan seemed much too nice to be a hockey player but perhaps that’s why he was the goalie. He was the first one to introduce himself and he didn’t seem to have the temper that the other players did over trivial things (like tying skates together or putting salt in someone’s Gatorade). Niall blocked shots from his teammates as if it was nothing but breathing. In a way it was stunning, nearly beautiful.

Hockey was violent, yes. But there was beauty in it, too. The way players skated backwards, cupped the puck on their stick. The speed, agility, and gracefulness required to stay standing. It was all really beautiful, and she was excited to be up close this time around. For the last two years she had been in a box cheering for her ex-boyfriend, right forward for the Glacier Wolves, Kael Crowe.

To be completely honest, she should have known it wouldn’t have worked out. Among the cheating, the belittling, and all the other things that were, in hindsight, an abysmal part of dating him, the orange and blue coloring wasn’t her favorite. The Arctic Chargers black and silver jerseys were much more her speed. Kael was her boyfriend of years and years but once he made it to the majors three years ago, things were very different.

“You can come on the ice, Sweetheart, we’re almost done!” Asher said.

Even though she had dated a hockey player for nearly a decade (most of which took place during college) she couldn’t skate. Uncle Charlie tried when she was younger to teach her, but the balance and coordination was not in her wheelhouse. She longed to skate better. Figure skaters were so dainty and beautiful as they glided on the ice. She was neither of those things and almost dreaded getting on the ice in the boots she was wearing. If she fell in front of her uncle, it was embarrassing. She could only imagine how embarrassing it would be in front of an entire professional hockey team.

“One second!”

She wanted to prolong the agony. Plus, with her fragile camera it seemed like a death sentence to send her out there. Even if it was what she was getting paid to do. It wasn’t the most lucrative job she had, but it was what she wanted to do most. She was grateful for the opportunity and hoped it would kickstart into something more. Photography was a major passion for her. Pictures of anything. Her computer was filled with pictures of the sun and sky from the summer. Snowy days in the winter. Pictures of her parents’ dog. Her uncle’s kids on birthdays. She was the official photographer of family weddings and more. But it wasn’t steady. A lot of her post-college young life had been put on hold to dote on Kael. Something she regretted but couldn’t do anything about now.

Uncle Charlie was kind to help her out and she thought starting now was better than never starting at all.

“Styles is that you?!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t piss yourselves in excitement,” the voice was right beside her.

“You better be fucking cleared before touching this rink,” Ray Wheeler, head coach and another surrogate uncle to her was a bit gruffer in his delivery to the players than Charlie most of the time.

The man beside her slapped his hand, paper held pressed to the glass. “Doctor-cleared for takeoff,” he called. A round of cheers went up and she snapped another picture of the excitement, ignoring the one and only Harry Styles beside her.

Harry Styles was Kael’s rival. The same draft class (although begrudgingly, Kael would admit Harry went first), and almost the same position—left forward. Fortunately, they were in different conferences, so they only ever played one another twice a season. Unless they made it to finals which hadn’t happened yet. But in her opinion, it was only a matter of time. Harry made headlines for his skill and ability, fitness, and overall dominance on the ice. He was protective of his best friend in goal—he and Niall were a pair like no other. Which meant when they did play each other, Kael knew exactly how to get under Harry’s skin.

“Who are you?” He asked.

Harry wasn’t here for her formal introduction to the team. Before she could open her mouth, Uncle Charlie was there. “That’s my niece Styles. She’s off limits so just make your way to the locker room.”

“Ah,” he smiled.

It should have been noted that in addition to skill and ability, fitness, and dominance on the ice, Harry was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. His eyes were green which sure as hell meant God was in fact a woman because no man would know to make Harry even more beautiful with forest green eyes. He was tall, even taller on skates. His skin glowed in a way that should have been illegal when she spent half an hour dousing her face in ten moisturizing products each night to achieve the same look and Harry spent most of his time indoors on an ice rink. Was it the chill that made his cheeks pinker? Would she get the same glow working here all season? She could only hope.

But it was that smile that did her in. His straight teeth peeking out from his lips. The dimples. The arrogance behind the expression. The pink curve of his upturned lips went right through her as he grinned at her.

“Nice t’meet you,” he held his hand out.

“Hands off!” Charlie shouted again.

Harry chuckled as she took his hand with an eyeroll introducing herself. “I’m your photo media specialist, if you will.”

“Excellent,” Harry grinned. “Let me know if y’need me t’pose a certain way,” he winked.

She shook her head and Niall skated up to the side. “Hey Sweetheart,” he said.

“Hi, baby, I missed you,” Harry answered with a grin. Niall shook his head flipping his friend off which made her giggle. Niall remained focused on her.

“Your Uncle said you might need help walking out here.”

“Oh, do we have a skating rookie on our hands?” Harry asked. Her cheeks felt hot under the assumption. Even though it was accurate.

“I suck at skating,” she shrugged. There wasn’t any use playing it off—they would know in a matter of seconds. “I get too nervous and lose my balance,” she admitted.

They both tilted their heads at her. She knew that vulnerability wasn’t something seen on the ice. It seemed almost trivial to admit, but she knew it clearly threw them for a loop. “I can walk you out,” Harry offered with that sinfully delicious smile.

“Coach said he was going to rebreak all of your fingers if you touch her."

“Oh, please let me walk you out,” Harry practically bounced with excitement.

She worried her eyes were going to remain in the back of her head from rolling them so much, but she supposed that would come with the territory with working for a group of boys. “Thank you, Niall. I should be okay. Just don’t let anyone laugh at me too much if I fall on my butt.”

“We don’t want you t’fall on such a pretty asset, Rookie. Are y’sure I can’t help?”

She ignored Harry, keeping her eyes on Niall. “No one will laugh,” he assured her, a smile toying at his lips as he slipped his helmet back on. “I offered, but she’s stubborn like you, Coach!”

The laughter that ensued was a good distraction for her to make her move. She unlocked the rink door and stepped onto the ice following behind Niall. Each step was carefully taken, knowing the traction of her winter boots were better than any other pair of shoes she owned but would never compare to the blade of skate.

Three little steps was about as far as she could go it seemed. Right as her footing was about to be lost on her and send her to the hard ice, a hand caught her elbow and kept her upright. “Rookie, love,” he tisked. “I told you I could help.”

She looked at him briefly knowing that his good looks got him any girl he wanted. She heard the rumors of the string of girls he had (perhaps one for every city he visited) and she knew of every bad thing that Kael had to say about him. But the kindness of him to catch her was sweet. Even she couldn’t deny that. Kael merely laughed each time she fell, it wasn’t mean spirited per se, but it was almost like he was glad she couldn’t skate. A way to be better than her.

God, she wished she had taken the hint a lot sooner.

Harry’s skates weren’t even tied yet. “Jus’ wait,” he said and knelt to lace them up. She had to imagine he rushed to get out here just knowing she wouldn’t make it across the ice.

Once tied, Harry held her elbow again and skated so effortlessly beside her barely moving as he glided alongside her. No one paid attention to her slow steps, and she could feel Harry’s grip firm but not hard on her arm. Almost sensing when she was going to misstep before she did. It made her heart skip a beat.

No. She couldn’t think like that. She wasn’t going to fall for another hockey player ever.

“M’teaching m’niece t’skate. I can teach you,” he shrugged. It wasn’t arrogant the way he said it. She was sure anyone else that knew she was in their mid-twenties (especially someone with a famous hockey player for an ex-boyfriend of eight years, and famous major league hockey coach for an uncle) would expect her to be able to skate. Instead, one of the top players in the league was at her elbow barely acknowledging that it was weird. Perhaps the vulnerability she mentioned to him and Niall really meant something to him. Or maybe she was just reading into it—which she definitely shouldn’t have been reading into it.

“It’s a real shame you won’t have that hand to play with after all, Harry,” Uncle Charlie shook his head.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Charlie, I can handle a group of boys,” she rolled her eyes again, earning a bout of laughter from the group. But she knew that Uncle Charlie was worried about Harry specifically. He was a lot like Kael. In another life, Harry would have been a weakness for her. But not anymore. She was done with hockey guys.

“M’jus’ making sure she doesn’t fall. Sad y’couldn’t teach her t’skate. Some uncle you are,” he shrugged casually.

The group laughed again, and she smirked. Charlie ignored the childish behavior of his players but rubbed his middle finger on his nose like he had an itch aimed for Harry “They’re all yours, Sweetheart. Just tell them where you want them. They’ve all been instructed to listen carefully unless they want to do suicides tomorrow at practice, so be honest if they don’t listen. Or lie if you see fit,” Uncle Charlie remarked making everyone groan. “Harry, go get your gear she needs individual pictures too.”

His eyes flickered to Niall for several seconds. Right as he released her arm, Niall now stood beside her and waited for direction. He didn’t hold her elbow like Harry did, but it was clear there was an unspoken message they shared telepathically. That little flutter in her chest made it’s appearance once more solely because Harry was kind to her about her inability to skate.

No, she wasn’t going to fall for it.

She wasn’t going to fall for the hot left wing of her uncle’s team just because he offered to teach her to skate and didn’t make fun of her because she couldn’t.

Nope. She wasn’t.

Not even a little.

Right?

*

The boys were decidedly sweet. Despite the fact it was like trying to wrangle a group of twenty toddlers into one spot. They sat nicely for their headshots individually, but once she tried to get them into various poses and group shots with their respective lines it proved a little more difficult. (Don’t even get her started on how the whole team shot went).

Harry stood beside her while she took pictures of everyone but him. His presence was comforting in a way she didn’t want to admit so readily. It had been less than an hour since she spoke to him. When he returned with all his gear in place, he held a small rug that the coaches often used to stand at center ice and call drills. He laid it before her feet, and she didn’t have to worry as much about falling. Niall was her test subject in front of the goal. When she wanted to get another angle, Harry scooped up the little mat and held her elbow and let her guide while he slid alongside her at a pace that was much too slow for a professional hockey player. But Harry didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I see?” He asked while the others skated around, messing around at the other end of the rink. She was now at the bench where she was safe from slipping. Harry leaned over the rail, dropping his gloves onto the wooden seat beside her. She offered her camera to him. Carefully he cradled it, like he knew it really was precious to her. Silently, he looked at the little screen. A smile grew on his face as he admired how his pictures came out. “These are awesome, Rookie.”

“Thank you,” did her cheeks feel warmer from the compliment? She smiled softly as he looked through several photos of himself. Harry Styles was lucky he didn’t have a bad side. Not that she would tell him that.

“How come y’didn’t do this for Crowe’s team?” He asked clicking through photos of his teammates.

She blinked, the smile melting from her face. “You know about me and Kael?”

“Well, yeah. S’the whole hands-off talk Coach gave us. Said you’re done with hockey players,” Harry shrugged one shoulder, his gaze focused on the lines and group shots on the screen of her camera. “Fortunately for me, I don’t consider your ex a real hockey player,” he smiled at the screen. “But I haven’t told Coach ‘bout that loophole jus’ yet.”

She snorted and shook her head. The flirty comment was cute. She could admit that. Plus, a dig at her shitty ex made her feel a little lighter. But she wasn’t going to fall for Harry’s easy-going charisma.

If she repeated it to herself enough, it would stick.

“I will not be dating real and-or imaginary hockey players,” she told him.

“At least give me a chance t’change your mind, Rookie,” he offered.

“No, thank you,” she shook her head politely. He frowned. She laughed softly. “You genuinely look down by my answer.”

“Hell yeah,” he scowled. “Y’take pretty pictures and y’wrangled this ragtag group,” he sighed almost dreamily. “And you’re absolutely beautiful t’boot.”

That made her smile, at least. He was an expert flirter. “Thank you, Harry. I appreciate that.”

“Enough t’let me take you on a date?”

“No.”

“Ugh.”

She laughed again. “Thank you for helping me around the ice,” she said graciously. “I’ll tell Uncle Charlie you were a perfect gentleman after he left.”

“Rookie, love, you’ll ruin m’reputation,” he called after her as she made her way around the rink toward the exit.

*

Her apartment was not in the nice part of town. To be fair, it was only just over the border from the nicer side. From her place she could see the bar she would be working at on the days she wouldn’t be at the rink. She hadn’t told Uncle Charlie about it because she knew he would be pissed if he saw where she lived. But it was the right price and honestly, the other tenants weren’t bad.

She suspected one of her neighbors on the first floor was... an entrepreneur... for his... small business. Michael was very wary of her at first, but she was lucky because he wore a hockey jersey the day, she met him, Callie’s number and name on the front and back. She hadn’t gone to the rink yet because she was getting a lot of her things and affairs settled. That evening she moved in, she got him tickets to a home game through her uncle (along with a dozen cookies to welcome herself to the building). To his credit, Michael looked weary that the tickets were fake, but the cookies were good. They weren’t special seats or anything, but they weren’t bad seats either. He knocked on her door the day after the game and it was clear she wasn’t going to have any issues with her neighbor. “That was cool. If you need anything, I got you,” he assured her with a grin. “That car you got, I’ll keep an eye on it for you when you’re not around... you’re too sweet to be living here.”

She smiled. “Thanks Michael.”

On the second floor lived an older couple. They kept to themselves, but she was sure to give them a dozen cookies as well and offered to shovel out their cars when it snowed. But once Michael saw her out there shoveling, he joined her as well. She brought a hockey stick autographed by the whole team for their grandson. She couldn’t wait to hear how he enjoyed that Christmas gift.

Her neighbor on the third floor just down the hall was Marcellus. He went by Marc and told her that he had a boyfriend and if she had an issue with that, it was too fucking bad. The previous tenant must have been a piece of work. She laughed at him, handed off her dozen cookies and shrugged. “If he breaks your heart, I have a team of hockey boys who can take him on,” she giggled.

So, Marc loved her too.

She wouldn’t be jogging around the neighborhood any time soon, but it was nice she wouldn’t have to worry about her car being stolen (although good luck to anyone who tried to get that piece of crap to start without a prayer), or getting robbed on her way into the building.

Inside her little studio apartment was a small kitchen. There was enough space for a small loveseat, a bed, and TV. She had a coffee table and a counter to sit at for breakfast. The bathroom was surprisingly spacious and modern for a rundown studio apartment building.

After a full day at the rink, she was chilly. A shower was just what she needed before she ventured into the cold again. Letting the hot water soothe her cold neck and back was so nice. While her hair air-dried, she transferred and then sifted through her pictures on her laptop. The edits she made were small. The lighting and shadows only needed to be adjusted a little. She loved the natural look of the of the players in their element.

She forwarded the photos to Charlie for approval, and he would send them to the higher ups for printing.

They look stunning, Sweetheart. Incredible job.

Grinning she looked over the photos she took of Harry again. He was by far the best-looking guy on the team (not that the others weren’t good-looking but alas). Even in the photos where you couldn’t see his pretty face, there was a presence that made him look more attractive. It was obvious he was a good player. His talent was evident in the photos, and she was proud of herself for being able to capture it.

There was a knock on her door. She padded quietly across the room, peeked through the peephole to see Marc, before she opened it. “Hi,” she smiled.

“You have to teach me hockey,” he said. “This man is obsessed, and I don’t even know what you call the ball.”

“Puck.”

“Exactly.” She laughed. He glanced around her apartment. “Your talents are wasted on this run-down place—holy hottie, who’s that?”

Her computer screen remained on Harry’s smiling individual photo. Dimples on full display and looking intense but happy. “That’s Harry Styles.”

“I think I’ll like hockey after all.”

Shaking her head, she sighed. “Listen, I have a shift I have to get to, but there’s a game on tomorrow afternoon, come over and we’ll watch it, and I’ll teach you,” she offered.

“Bring flashcards of the players. It’ll make me more interested.”

She tied the apron around her waist as he sifted through the photos. “God damn, is this what all hockey players look like?” He asked.

“Bye Marc,” she pulled his arm and pushed him toward her door. “See you tomorrow.”

*

The Locker Room was a local restaurant owned by Louis Tomlinson. It was a hot spot for the players to go to on off days and after a win (they refrained from going after a loss unless absolutely necessary). The fans that went were not allowed to be aggressive about the players, but after a while, they got used to seeing the players so often, it became a nice place to be themselves.

Asher and Lang were playing darts while Niall and Callie focused on a game of pool. Harry sat back sipping his beer analyzing his contacts looking for the hookup he wanted for the evening. They had curfew at midnight since there was a game tomorrow evening which left him with ample time to peruse his list, meet up with the girl, and get home by midnight before he turned into a pumpkin.

“Who’s the lucky lady tonight?” Louis asked clapping a hand on Harry’s back.

“Haven’t decided yet,” he chuckled.

“Well, when the new waitress comes over, you are not to make her uncomfortable. I already warned her.”

“I would never,” he rolled his eyes, still scanning the names.

“Uh-huh,” Louis nodded. “Of course. Tell your teammates too. She’s off limits.”

“What’s up with every new girl being off limits in our life?” Callie asked.

“Coach won’t let us date his niece and you won’t let us date the new girl,” Niall explained to Louis for clarification.

“Fortunately, it’s the same person, so you don’t have to lose out on two girls.”

Harry pulled away from his screen to admire the pretty girl he met at the rink earlier in the day. His grin grew. “Oh, Rookie, it’s you,” he cooed.

“Oh Jesus,” Louis sighed. “Watch out for that one, love,” he patted her on the back.

“So, I’ve heard,” she smiled.

“Is she ours?” Asher asked excitedly.

“As long as you don’t torture her,” Louis shrugged.

“We would never!”

“Eleanor refuses to set foot back here because of you all.”

“Hire meaner waitstaff.”

“Best of luck, love,” Louis shook his head.

“What can I get you guys?” She asked sweetly.

“Uncle Charlie doesn’t pay you enough that you have to slum it here?” Lang asked.

“I heard that!” Louis shouted.

Harry was...quite taken. From the moment he laid eyes on her. The concentration on her face as she took pictures, the way her hair was pinned up, how bundled she was. Her smile was sexy. The quips that spilt from her mouth perhaps even sexier. Harry was certain she was a dream because good things at the rink consisted of goals, interviews, and the pizza from the snack bar. Not a pretty girl with an expensive camera and his assistant coach as her uncle.

Now her hair was still pinned back, an apron tied around her waist, and the black and silver uniform as homage to his own. Harry wanted her draped in the number eleven and his name on her back ASAP.

It was cute she couldn’t skate. Cute how passionate she was on day one taking pictures. She wasn’t flustered by their rowdiness, or their annoying nature. Harry knew that she was used to hockey boys—had to be if her ex was one of the top forwards in the league (although Harry didn’t recognize that too often). He liked how she didn’t take shit from them but was still kind. She was funny, creative, and lovely.

And he only saw her in action for a short time.

But it was enough to make him put his phone away and not think about hooking up with someone tonight. His focus would be on her waiting on the team and (hopefully) getting to know her more so he could rationalize falling for someone so out of his league and someone so off limits.

“Hi Rookie, love,” Harry smiled as she approached his table. She took orders from the other four hanging around.

“Hi Harry,” she answered.

“M’happy to see you again.”

She nodded. “It’s only been a few hours, Harry.”

“S’too long t’go without seeing your pretty face,” he assured her.

She rolled her eyes, but Harry noticed how her cheeks flushed with color. “What do you want to drink?” She asked instead.

“Are you on the menu?”

“Does that work on other girls?”

“Yes.”

“It’s probably because of the hockey thing you have going on. I promise it wouldn’t work if you weren’t a professional,” she shrugged.

“Good thing m’very professional,” he continued, his voice flirty.

“I’m putting down whatever the other guys said,” she shook her head and headed off to get the drinks.

“Harry, don’t bother her. Coach said she’s off-limits,” Niall reminded him while Callie took his shot.

“Yeah, she doesn’t strike me as one-night-stand material,” Asher murmured focusing on his dart going directly into the board.

“Mmm,” Harry sighed. In the brief interaction he had with her, he kind of figured that too. In fact, given she had been with Crowe for nearly a decade, he imagined she didn’t have too much experience dating other than her ex. Not that he would force her—or any woman. Like he said they all knew what they signed up for. Harry wasn’t great at the whole relationship thing. He was constantly traveling with the team. Practice most days, games most nights. Relationships were often one-sided and tiresome. It wasn’t fair to expect someone to wait for five months of the year to have a relationship.

One-night stands were better for him.

But he could at least ask her if she was willing to try him out. God, knew he wanted to try her out the second he looked at her.

“Your drinks,” she announced setting them on Harry’s table. He eyed her as she set the drinks down from the little tray in her arm. “Do you guys want food?” She asked.

“Are you on the menu now?”

“Jesus Christ,” Lang shook his head.

“You’re embarrassing us, Styles,” Callie sighed.

“Chicken wings, you said?” She asked scribbling on the pad of paper in her hand. “Great choice. Do you want anything else?” Harry smiled, opened his mouth to speak but she turned immediately. “Not you,” she said over her shoulder and sauntered over to the pool table. Lang and Asher chuckled to themselves at Harry’s strike out.

“You’re our hero, Sweetheart,” Asher sighed dreamily.

*

When Harry was on the ice there were zero thoughts of anything but slicing up the ice with the blade of his skate. He thought about the opponent across from him. The puck sliding across the ice and into the net. Protecting Niall in goal if anyone dared to lay a hand on him.

But now when they had timeouts, or when he was waiting for the puck to come up to him, he saw the pretty girl with her camera lens pressed to the glass, or in the cut out for the press. Her little badge draped around her neck looked so cute. Everything about her was cute and dainty.

Crowe was a fucking idiot to let her go.

Which made him wonder why he chose to break up with someone so pretty and witty. Creative as well.

Fuck. Coach was going to kill him.

But she really stood her ground. In the month that she had been part of the team, she seemed damn near impervious to Harry’s flirting. Harry worked hard to make her blush (which he could see was easy) but it took a lot to make her speechless. It was obvious Crowe didn’t treat her well. It seemed like Harry’s attention to her was the only time she had been shown affection. That alone pissed him off and made him hate him more. It was like she had never been told how pretty she was. Even when Harry wasn’t actively flirting with her, when he complimented her hair or how her pictures came out, she seemed completely off-guard.

What a fucking dick.

Harry once more wondered why they broke up. He still hadn’t figured it out. There was no way she wasn’t the perfect girlfriend. Especially for a hockey player. For all the reasons Harry didn’t date, she knew precisely what she was getting into and did it anyway. But she doted on his teammates as if she was dating all of them (there was no other way to describe it.) She always had extra tape for sticks. She walked with her cross body filled with supplies for hangovers, minor injuries, and the like. When she waited on them at Louis’ place, she knew their orders and had them ready almost like clockwork for when they arrived.

“Styles!” Coach Wheeler called. “If you’re not going to practice, you can sit out!” He shouted.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to rid his mind of the team’s photographer. The coach’s niece. His pretty waitress.

The star of all his dreams as of late.

*

“Sweetheart, where do you want us?!” Lang called.

She was on the bench, waiting to take some gameday photos. Today she was wearing skates, which made Harry nervous. He knew if she went down, she would protect her precious camera and he didn’t blame her, but it he hated the thought of her getting hurt. “Just by the—” She sighed, closing her eyes mid-sentence and she put her phone to her ear. “Stop fucking calling,” she snapped and then put her phone in her pocket again. “By the goal,” she cleared her throat.

The team stared at her. “Do you have a stalker, babe?” Asher asked.

“No,” she snorted and looked at her camera. She took a test shot of the empty net to make sure everything was set. She stepped tentatively onto the ice, more graceful than the last time she did. But Harry glided over to her quickly. He didn’t touch her, but he was more than ready to catch her. She ignored his presence, not in a mean way at all. Not an ounce of her was mean. Which is why it was so surprising she had that much malice in her voice on the phone.

“Everything okay, Sweetheart?” Charlie asked.

“Yup,” she popped the ‘puh’ sound.

She slid forward very carefully. “S’kind of shooting yourself in the foot here, Rookie. Figure skates have a better blade for beginners. S’harder t’skate on hockey skates for what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I was always told a hockey blade was thicker, so it was better.”

Harry shrugged. “S’not really that big of a deal in m’opinion. Figure skates have a longer blade, better for y’balance. Charlie set y’up with those?” She shook her head.

“No,” her voice was quiet.

“You bought hockey skates on your own?”

“Can you go stand with your team?” She asked dodging his question. He frowned.

“Yeah, sorry, Rookie, love,” he skated off but whistled at his younger teammate, Garrett, the third string forward for his position. Harry tilted his head in her direction and Garrett went over to her, standing way too far away in case she did fall.

“Who got her the skates?” He mumbled to Charlie. He shrugged.

“Not sure. Probably Kael. I would imagine he got a deal from his sponsors.”

God Harry hated him.

*

Mila was someone he saw on a semi-regular basis. Which meant she knew the drill. After their win, they would do their thing. Harry would stay until she fell asleep—because he wasn’t an asshole; and he wasn’t too proud to admit that he liked cuddling. Even if it was only for a little while—and he would send a text the next day to make sure she felt okay. There was no breakfast, no awkward small talk. Just sex. There was no setup to get feelings hurt or hearts broken. Harry was too busy for a girlfriend, and he would make for a shitty boyfriend.

It was cold when he left her place, and he blew into his hands for warmth when he as he headed to his car. There was a text on his phone from an unknown number.

Thought you would want to see the picture that’s on the front page of the sports section for tomorrow :) There was an impressive picture of Harry’s game winning goal. It wasn’t time sensitive but it was the one that broke the tie. The rest of the team held off the offensive line for the remaining ten minutes of the game.

Thanks, Rookie. I’m going to send it to Mum. She’ll print it for the fridge. How’d you get my number?

Kian gave it to me. Is that alright?

Who?

Callie 🙄 You should really learn your friends’ names. Is it okay I have your number?

Of course it’s alright. Just surprised YOU asked for it. Didn’t know you would want to talk to me so bad. You could have asked me yourself.

Sorry, I think have the wrong number.

He chuckled to himself while his car warmed up. The seat heater was heaven on his stiff muscles. Harry liked the cold—he had to being a hockey player. But it was her funny wit that warmed him from the inside out. Are you all still at Louis’?

Yes. Niall and Noah are about to break the air hockey machine.

Who?

🙄 Asher. Sorry. Jesus.

I’ll be right there, Rookie.

*

The next time the team won, Harry looked at the message from Layla asking if he wanted to come over to celebrate. He didn’t really want to. The guys were headed home because they had an early flight and there was no celebrating. Which meant that the pretty girl he wanted to celebrate with wasn’t going to be out and about either. She wouldn’t be doting on his drunk teammates. Wouldn’t be stopping their stupid fights about who’s turn it was to play her in darts. She wouldn’t be making sure they all made it home safely in the Ubers she ordered.

But Harry couldn’t just hang out with her either. There was no reason. She was basically his teammate and he couldn’t figure why she was so guarded. At least not beyond whatever it was she was dealing with Crowe.

“Is he still calling?” Niall asked looking at her phone the bench while she looked at her camera. Her hair always fell so perfectly as she watched the screen.

“Who?” Lang asked.

She sighed. “It’s just Kael.”

“Why?” Callie asked.

She shrugged. “I would have to answer to find out. Which is the last thing I want to do. I need a new phone number; I just haven’t gotten around to it. My schedule conflicts with most regular business hours so I could go to the store.”

“Charlie, you can’t spare her to give her a day off?” Asher asked.

Her uncle rolled his eyes, flipped him off, and continued practicing with the second and third stringers.

Harry sat beside her and peeked over her shoulder at her photos. “Do y’have any non-hockey photos?” She nodded and picked up her phone that was still showing Crowe blowing up her phone with calls and texts. “Why don’t y’block him, Rookie?” She swiped his notification away and she opened the web browser. It was currently on a recipe for carrot cake cupcakes. “Those look good,” he smiled.

She smirked. “It’s Ray’s birthday next week. Carrot cake is his favorite. Figured I’d make you all cupcakes.”

Harry thought she was too sweet for him. Someone with a lineup of women didn’t deserve her sweetness. Someone who was meeting Arya at her place after practice because he could didn’t get a girl like her. Him meeting Nyla after tomorrow’s away game three states away didn’t get someone like the pretty photographer.

Kael’s name kept popping up. “Y’probably never had t’block anybody before,” Harry said quietly. “D’you know how?” He hoped he didn’t sound condescending. But he had the unfortunate pleasure of blocking someone every now and again.

“I know how,” she laughed softly. “It’s just... with Kael, it’s likely to be a thing, you know?” She shrugged. “It’s easier to ignore him.”

“It probably gives him hope,” Harry frowned.

She held out her phone to him and shrugged. “That’s not my problem. I’ll see him in a couple weeks when we’re up North,” she reminded him. “Hopefully by then he’ll get the message; or I’ll have to talk to him in person.”

Harry took her phone and admired the portfolio of photos she displayed for him. The website was all black making her images pop. She was so talented. There were babies and weddings. There were family portraits and just general landscape shots. All of differing but equal beauty and perfection. Natural. Lovely.

Harry swiped away Kael’s name again and clicked on the menu item of the about section.

Two side by side pictures of the pretty girl next to him were on the screen. One with the camera in front of her eye, the other a sweet smile on her face camera in front of her like a prop. Behind the Lens... Thank you for browsing. If you like what you see, I’d be happy to quote you for any need. I have experience in just about any area of photographing. Thank you for letting me part of you day!

Too sweet for someone who was going to never be able to settle down because of his job. No matter how much he wished she could be part of his day.

Kael’s stupid name popped up again. Without another rational thought, Harry answered the call, pressed the phone to his ear, and skated off knowing she couldn’t go after him.

“Finally, baby,” Kael groaned.

“STYLES HOW DARE YOU!” She screamed.

“Crowe, nice t’hear from you.”

“Who the fuck is this?” He growled.

“HARRY!” She was on the ice in her ever-present boots. They weren’t great for walking on ice. She slipped immediately but Lang was right nearby to help her up. Harry was going to feel guilty about that for ages.

“None of your business,” he shook his head. “She doesn’t want y’calling anymore.”

“What the fuck? Put her on the phone!”

“No,” Harry said defiantly. “She doesn’t want t’talk t’you. Ever. Stop calling y’piece of shit.”

Lang looked at Harry wildly as he glided with the pretty girl clutching to his arm. She smacked Harry multiple times on the arm and chest making the coaches laugh. “Give me the phone!” She snapped.

“Give her the phone!” He repeated. “Listen to her!”

“No, y’don’t deserve her,” Harry stepped out of her reach where she lost her balance as she lunged for him. She fell again catching her hands. Thank God she didn’t have her camera. Lang helped her to her feet again and Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him again. “Y’didn’t appreciate her, her talent, or anything. Y’didn’t get her the right skates, and I don’t know what y’did t’piss her off so bad, but y’not getting her back,” Harry said it so casually. But every word was meant for her.

“Is that you, Styles?” Crowe snarled.

“Bye Crowe, see you in a month!” He said cheerily handing the phone off to her.

She nearly fell again despite holding onto Lang. “What the hell, Harry!”

“I got rid of him,” he shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

Her face was beat red with embarrassment. Her hands had to be cold from the fall. But she still looked adorable as always. Even with a sour expression, she was sweet. Pretty beyond belief. Wide eyes, soft skin, even her nose was cute. She glared at him and spun on her heel. “Get me away from him,” she snapped.

Harry sighed, feeling bummed he pissed her off too much. Lang shook his head at Harry as he helped her back to the bench. She packed up her things and left.

But he couldn’t help but notice that her phone had stopped ringing.

*

She was still mad at him a week later. If she ignored his flirting before, this was an entire new level. She hardly acknowledged his presence. He missed her. In a weird way. He enjoyed bugging her, but perhaps it went to far. It was an invasion of her personal life that he wasn’t privy to, and he didn’t really have any right to deal with her ex-boyfriend.

That didn’t mean anything he said wasn’t anything but the truth.

“Hey Rookie,” he said as she entered the room to get their drink orders for the evening.

“Hi everybody,” she grinned at everyone in turn and glared at Harry.

“Boy you pissed her off,” Niall chuckled.

He shrugged. “Worth it,” because it was. He hated Kael before, he hoped he got the clue.

“You know she had to talk to him, right?” Callie asked. Harry’s head snapped up from his phone screen looking at his contacts once more. Harry wasn’t sure he could pinpoint it exactly but his evenings with the women in his phone were leaving him less and less fulfilled. He wasn’t looking for any grand pronouncements of love. That wasn’t his thing. But the idea of spending the evening with someone didn’t give him the same excitement as it used to.

It was probably the day he met her. But it was sinking in more over the week she had barely spoken to him. “What do y’mean?” He frowned.

“Crowe? She had to talk to him after that stunt you pulled.”

Harry glowered at the table. “Why?”

“Because he wouldn’t stop blowing up her phone and he was threatening to come to her if she didn’t just talk to him. Why do you think she didn’t come with us on the plane the next day?”

Harry felt like a jerk. “Oh.”

“She hates you,” Asher reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “She could have told one of us,” he mumbled. Harry would have sat outside her apartment waiting for him.

“I don’t know if you noticed Harry, but she’s pretty private,” Niall sighed leaning on his pool stick. “I know you meant well, but it kind of fucked up her day.”

Harry pouted. He met her gaze as she brought their drinks out.

And if she spilled Harry’s on him, well, he supposed he deserved that.

*

Harry was a great hockey player, a great friend. A great brother and son. Not to toot his own horn but he thought he truly was the World’s Best Uncle like it said on the T-shirt Gemma had got him when she told him she was pregnant. He was still pretty humble all things considered; always looking to improve. Coach Wheeler was one of his favorite mentors (right after his mum) and he strived to do better by them.

He was bad at Chemistry in school. He wasn’t good at Sudoku. Most recently he felt like he was bad at having sex. The thing he had going with the women he knew didn’t seem to be working for him the way it used to. There was an awkwardness to the hookups when he left. He wasn’t mentally present in the moment.

Harry was pretty certain he would be a shitty boyfriend.

He needed her forgiveness, or the other remaining areas of his life were going to get worse too.

Most notably, he was shit in practice. He worried he was going to be demoted to second string.

Harry arrived early to practice, putting goals in the net two hours before everyone else arrived. He would have to pay to resurface the ice twenty minutes before practice officially started. But he hoped that she was going to show up early with her carrot cake cupcakes. He anticipated she would be just one short. Which Harry deserved on top of everything else too.

Fortunately, she did arrive early.

“Hey,” he waved.

She ignored him, set the cupcakes down on the bench and pulled out her camera. She fiddled with it, wiping the lens off with a cloth, and took some test shots of the ice.

“Rookie, love,” he sighed and skated over to the bench.

“Yes, Mr. Styles? Can I help you?”

“C’mon, Rookie, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I was just trying to help.”

She rolled her eyes and ignored him. “You must get whatever you want all the time.”

He frowned. “No, I don’t actually,” although from her perspective he could see what she meant.

“Well, me either, so if I’m going to be miserable. So are you.”

He snorted, shook his head. He stepped off the ice and sat on the bench beside her. “I’m sorry, Bunny. Really. I hated that he was bothering you. I didn’t mean t’make it worse, honest. I would have done the same for m’sister or any one of the guys’ girls.”

“I am an adult Harry. I’m independent and I can handle my own shit. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I understand. M’sorry, really. I won’t do it again. But m’sick of y’being mad at me. S’been no fun this week without skating you around, grossly overtipping you jus’ so you’ll spend extra time with us,” he smiled shyly at her.

She sucked her lip into her mouth. For a moment she looked at her lap, obviously thinking something over. “How’d you know he bought me the wrong skates?” Her voice was quiet.

Harry blinked wondering how long she had that question locked and loaded. He shrugged. “I asked Charlie. He said he didn’t. So, I assumed it had to be him.”

She sighed and looked up. “He said figure skates would make me look like try-hard. Hockey skates would make me look more like I belonged on his arm,” she explained. “I didn’t know. I would have...” she shook her head. “It was eye-opening when you said that, and it hurt... and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry too.”

Harry sighed with relief. “You don’t have t’apologize,” he promised. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”

“Apology accepted.”

Harry grabbed her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Thanks Bunny.”

She wrinkled her nose at him in distaste. “I don’t like Bunny.”

“Oh...” his smile grew by the second. “Y’don’t Rookie, love?” He chuckled standing up and getting back on the ice. “Y’probably shouldn’t have told me that,” he winked and skated off.

“There’s no cupcake for you!” She called.

“That’s okay, Bunny!” He shouted back with a grin and sank a shot from half-ice.

Maybe Harry would be a shitty boyfriend, but he was going to be her best friend instead.

--

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If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[secret-moonstruck]

WAKE ME UP | ENHYPEN

— Pairing: enhypen x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: You decide to wake them up in a special way.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: oral sex, praising, making out, begging, cum eating.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

Heeseung: It hadn't been long since you had gone to sleep when you woke up feeling Heeseung hard against you, for a moment you were surprised, then you remembered one of his fantasies so you couldn't help but smile.

Carefully not to wake him you turned to face him, then started pumping his member but then a better idea came into your mind when you heard him moan. Turning on top of him, mounting him, rubbing against his erection, you were startled when suddenly his hands grabbed your waist tightly and your body was thrown against the bed. Not long after, you were already a mess of moans and tears as he fiercely pushed himself inside you.

Jake: You heard that Jake went to practice earlier than the others so you decided to surprise him. But when you entered the room you saw him sleeping, he was so tired that instead of practicing he ended up sleeping while watching the choreography video. You decided to give him a gift to cheer him up. Sitting next to him you ran your hands down his body until you reached his pants, touching him slowly with gentle movements, feeling him get excited you moved closer to kiss his lips, he woke up confused, but soon let out a moan when he felt your hands.

- Please continue Y/N. - He said, laying his head back on the sofa. 

His hand now directly pumping his exposed member, bending over him using his mouth to finish the job, which didn't take long.

He was very happy with his gift, when the members arrived they were surprised that he was so excited and willing to rehearse.

Jay: It was quiet on the plane, everyone was asleep, but you were bored. As you watched Jay something popped into your mind. With a smile you slid your hand under the blanket that was on his lap, sneaking into his pants and boxers, before long he was already hard under your touches, but your little play didn't last long, soon you felt a tightness around you wrist, when he looked at your eyes, a shiver run through your body.. You rarely saw him with that expression, and when you did, you knew you were in trouble. 

- Again being dirty in public, you know very well what happens when you do that, don't you?

And yes you knew it, he would punish you until he made you cry. Your legs shook in anticipation as he dragged her to the back of the plane. Before being pushed into the bathroom you saw the flight attendant's irritated look, but you didn't have time to feel embarrassed. 

Sunghoon: You were going to spend the day together, so you went to the dorm early but he was still sleeping.

When you entered his room a smile appeared on your face, he was sleeping so fully that you felt a little guilty for the thought that invaded your mind, but he himself said he found it interesting, why not?

Silently you sat on the bed next to him, your hands sliding under the cover until you reached him, slowly you began to caress him, it didn't take long for him to be extremely hard in your hands, as he moaned in his sleep. You watched as his eyes slowly opened, how his shocked expression was soon replaced by a dirty smile.

- A good way to wake up. - He said pulling her for a kiss.

The way he seemed more wild and aggressive made you realize that you were going to pay dearly for your little joke.

Sunoo: When you woke up and heard a low moan you ignored it, but when you heard it again but this time your name you froze. 

When you turned around you saw your boyfriend still sleeping, his expression tense, then you heard another groan. Then a smile appeared on your face… was that perverted little boy having a dirty dream about you? As soon as the thought arose you were already under the covers, with him in your mouth, moans coming from him more frequently, even in his dream he moved wanting more, soon you felt him tense up and noticed that he was waking up. You looked at him as he removed the covers in surprise.

- Y/N...what are you...? - He tried to speak but instead another moan left his lips. 

It didn't take long for him to come in you mouth.

- Um… Thank you for breakfast. - You said after swallowing everything. His expression was priceless, but also dangerous.

Jungwon: The movie was halfway through when you noticed that Jungwon was sleeping, he insisted on watching and fell asleep, you rolled your eyes in annoyance. When you remembered him saying something about being woken up in a special way, you thought it might be a good way to get your “revenge”.

To confirm that he was sleeping you slowly began to touch him over his sweatpants, while massaging his member you smiled as he became hard under your touch, when you heard him moan you pulled his pants along with his boxers showing off his erection.

Your tongue running along his length, when you licked the tip you felt a hand on your head.

- Really a bitch. You didn't even wait for me to wake up.. - Before pushing himself into her mouth

Niki: You were on a trip to the beach with your friends. Apart from Jay who was driving everyone had slept. Your hands were intertwined with Niki's under a blanket you always took with you on trips. As he slept he ended up pulling his hand further up into his lap, a light went on in his head. Releasing his hand you began to slowly massage him still over his pants, you felt him getting excited and continued touching him, a moan left his lips and you froze when Heeseung who was on the bench in front of you looked back. You pretended to be distracted looking away, he ignored you and turned back.

Not long after, he let out another moan but this time louder, this time everyone turned to you, at the exact moment he woke up and groaned again. Pulling back your hand you wanted to disappear in embarrassment while they complained about you being dirty.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[demonic0angel]

"Jason, stay out of this."

"Seeing as thats my Wolf you're going to interrogate. Fuck no."

(When I'm stressed and anxious and a kind anon sends me an ask about Anger Management with Jason being protective over his assistant 😭🫶 y'all know me so well)

Part 2

Batman froze. "What?"

Red Hood pushed past him in his moment of distraction and entered the interrogation room, where Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter were sitting across from Wolf. They all looked at him when he entered, eyes wide at the sight of the gun in his hands.

He pointed it at Wolf.

"Hands up," he said. She raised her hands calmly, the chain that linked her to the table clacking before he shot it off and strode over to pull her to her feet.

Red Hood handed her the gun and used his left arm to lift her into his embrace, holding her up into the air as he took out his other gun and held it securely. Wolf wrapped an arm around his neck and used the other to hold the pistol, leaning on him with an exhausted sigh.

Her weariness made him even angrier and he ignored the protests as he marched past all of them, even Batman.

"What is the meaning of this—!"

"You cannot just—!"

Batman interrupted and said sternly, "Hood. She is a criminal who murdered 2 people. Why are you—"

Red Hood tightened his hold on Wolf. She curled around his head further, trusting him completely. His fury waned underneath her faith and he was calm when he responded, "She's mine."

Batman froze completely, mouth slightly open. Underneath the helmet, Red Hood flushed before correcting himself, "She's one of mine and she was protecting me. Those two that she killed had attempted to attack a little girl to threaten me into backing down."

Wonder Woman opened her mouth. Surprisingly, it was Martian Manhunter who said, "We understand. We do not like it, but we realize that this is a Gotham issue... right? We shall let you go, but none of us want to see this again."

Red Hood pocketed his gun, reassured as he then used his free hand to rub Wolf's leg comfortingly. He nodded once and then turned to leave, leaving the three Justice League members staring at his back.

"Thank you for saving me," Wolf said quietly, their helmets knocking together in a soft clinking noise. She finally put down the extra pistol and wrapped both of her arms around him, sighing as she relaxed into his carried embrace.

Red Hood blushed and then said curtly, "It's whatever. Where would I even find another assistant if you're gone?"

She giggled and he held her tightly. Yes, she was safe and all was well now.

From where they still lingered, watching the intimate relationship between the Red Hood and another woman, Batman slowly turned to Martian Manhunter.

"... why did you let them go?"

"Red Hood is one of yours, correct?" Martian Manhunter asked. Batman nodded slowly.

"I felt as though neither of you would appreciate it if we hurt someone that Red Hood loved," he said with a casual shrug. Then with a swish of his cape, he walked off.

Leaving Batman floundering and shocked once more. Wonder Woman brought a hand to her mouth, hiding a delighted grin.

"Oh my. I suppose you'll have to welcome a daughter-in-law soon?"

[theyonagoda]

Lots of people in the notes going "unfortunately" or being mean to their past selves... please don't. Your fifteen year old self, no matter how awful they were, was a child who deserves love, especially from you. And you need to love them to love yourself, fully.

Maybe it's me being a tad sentimental at times but I love communicating to my past self- I know her, but she doesn't know me, but she left blank spaces in the middle of journals and sent mail to the future and filled notebooks up with mediocre drawings of girls kissing one another and felt bad about it and sometimes I will crack open a page and start talking back. Yes, dear diary, I did eventually get over it. No, I don't think that this arm looks wonky. I love you too. I stayed strong for you.

turns out I���ll always carry my 15 year old self. silly me

[vmlnrzmp4]

𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

no cw, just domestic bliss<3 for reference, she's making kheer: a famous south asian dessert. you can call it a pudding. this is me y'all. i think the "banned from kitchen" girlies deserve representation. without further ado, enjoy<3

itoshi sae

"it stings...!" you mumble a complain as sae applies the burn-cream to your thumb and index finger. he calls you a dumbass for even stepping into the kitchen.

"sae," you call softly trying to gain his attention. he ignores, too busy tending your wounds. "sae," you call again. and after a long pause, he hums.

"what?"

"can you atleast taste what i made?"

he looks up at you, blowing air from his mouth to your booboo, the coolness easing the pain a little. "you sure it's not poison?"

"no promises."

he stares at you for a moment. sighing, he reaches for the spoon, taking a bit—just a little bite, "what did you put in this?" he asks, "is this supposed to be salty?"

oh the horror! "what?"

"it's salty."

you take the spoon from him, tasting it too, gagging at the bitterness. "i may or may not have added salt instead of sugar."

"you," he snaps his finger at you, "stay out of the kitchen."

itoshi rin

"hot hot hot!" you say, the burning spoonful of kheer still in your mouth.

"here," rin quickly passes you a bottle of cold water as you wash it down, "don't choke on it." his brows furrow, "is this supposed to be that watery and oily?"

"it's not oil. i used ghee," you say, showing him the container, "it's butter. but fancier." he examines it in his hand, reading the label and notes. you take another gulp of the cold water, "my tongue feels numb now."

he takes a spoonful, seeing how it runs down from the sides like water, "what were you trying to do?"

you sigh. big big sigh as you ramble, "i tried making this. i know i shouldn't even step into the kitchen but, i just felt like yes i can do it like it's the easiest thing i can make cause my cousin made it back in india and she sent me a picture of it and it looked so simple and i—"

"it's fine," he cuts you off, "leave it to me next time."

isagi yoichi

"here you go," you say, placing the bowl in front of him, along with a spoon and a forced smile.

he chuckles nervously, taking the spoon from you, "is this...soup?"

"no!" you correct, "it's kheer, even fancier!"

he hums, taking in a spoonful while you wait expectantly.

he coughs. loudly.

looking up at you he sees the horror in your eyes—he feels guilty as he sees the messy apron, hair that was messily put up in a bun and a little something on your cheek too—you worked hard on it.

"it's...not bad."

you let out the most heart wrenching sigh, "it's ok yo-chan," you plop yourself beside him, your forehead bangs on the table, "you don't need to lie."

"oh y/n..." he reaches for you, soothing your forehead that you just abused on the table, "it's not bad, really. it's just...a little too sweet for my liking. maybe we can fix it together?"

you look at him with puppy-dog eyes, yet fully of hope, "together?"

"together."

michael kaiser

the first thing kaiser does is plant a sweet peck on your cheek as he enters the kitchen, pointing at the apron you wore that says kiss the chef.

"what's cooking?"

you simply point at the cook-book that was open. he raises an eyebrow, then adjusts the glasses resting on his forehead, pushing them down to eye level as he inspects the recipe.

"aaaand all done!" you say happily. but the horror in kaiser's eyes when you were pouring the kheer into a bowl—it was like you were a maniac mixing chemicals to feed the lab rats.

"here," you hand him the spoon, "mihya, i want you to be the first one to try it."

he gulps in fear, "if that's what you want angel..."

aftermath.

he wouldn't stop laughing at you and your poor attempt to stealing a chef's job.

"i'm sorry—" he laughs, "—i'm sorry," more laugher.

"i get it. i can't cook. and i apologize for even thinking i would get appreciated. even if it's a little."

his laughter dies down slowly—still smirking as he hugs you from behind, "hey, i appreciate you loads. even if you made the most disastrous dish imaginable," he pecks your temple, "it's the thought that matters."

[nevadancitizen]

-> ROT IN PUREST GOLD

synopsis: you've been skipping through universes ever since you touched the source of the hexgates. through everything, you've never stopped searching for your viktor -- now, you've found him, and you just want to go home.

word count: 2.7k

ships: viktor/reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, fluff and angst, pre-established relationship

notes: inspired by purest gold by miracle of sound. and this is my first shot at writing viktor.. lmk if i got anything wrong ^_^

It’s been years since you saw Viktor. Many years – artificial years. Years spent close, away, at a distance but still observing. But they were never your Viktor. 

Viktor with the accented voice and the long face. Viktor with the work ethic of a hive of worker honeybees, tireless and continuous. Viktor with the eyes of pure gold – never pyrite or brass with a yellow twinge. He’s always been made of the purest gold.

None of them ever could’ve replaced him. With all these alternate universes you were hopping between, you met plenty of Viktors. Some came close, but none replaced him. It wasn’t their faults; they couldn’t compete with a memory. 

You were a variable, too, so you couldn’t blame them completely. You went by different names, had different stories. Anything to make this depressing, grueling trudge through many lives more tolerable. 

Some things made things less annoying, like cars. (Well, sometimes. Sometimes they were a nuisance.) Cars are one of the things you think your Viktor would’ve liked to study. To take apart, to put back together, to modify and make better. You could see him becoming a real torque dork while listening to Speedfreaks FM. 

Mostly because that’s what he insists on listening to when you drive him to his doctor’s appointments – both of which you’re doing right now. Well, this universe’s version of him insists on Speedfreaks FM, and insists on you not calling him a ‘torque dork.’ Differentiating the Viktors from each other gets really complicated really fast, but giving them numbers feels dehumanizing. (If you did, this Viktor would be V-24. You’ve been keeping track.)

You turn on your blinker and wait for an opening to drive into the parking lot. Beneath the chatter of the radio hosts, you can hear Viktor tap his slender fingers against his forearm crutch in the passenger seat. Another difference you’ve noticed – both his outward fidgeting and his different mobility aids. 

When your turn comes, you turn your car into the parking lot. You slowly let the car drift, your foot hovering above the brake in case someone needs to cross. 

You turn down the radio a few clicks. “You think you’ll need your wheelchair?”

Viktor is silent. You take your eyes off the road for a split second and glance at him. He’s looking out the side window, at the plaza’s tall buildings and a sign that says Pueblito Plaza. 

“Viktor?” You say. “You hearing me?”

You pull into a parking spot and put the car in park. Worry eats through you – you don’t know what’s happening. Why is he acting like this?

He’s turned in his seat, looking through the back window at the buildings. There’s amazement on his face and for a second – a split second – he’s there. He’s your Viktor. 

But he’s not. He’s not. 

Those eyes are not gold. They are topaz and they are citrine. They are the yellow-orange that accompanies the sunrise. Beautiful, yes, but not yours.

“Where… are we?” He asks, his voice soft and wonderful.

“We’re going to your doctor appointment,” you say. “With… what’s her name? The pulmonologist. And then you have a CT chest scan.”

“No – the nation,” Viktor says. “What nation are we in? I have never seen technology like this.”

He runs a hand over the console of the car, then over the glovebox. He opens it, then looks inside. Nothing but napkins from fast food places and a laminated copy of your car insurance. 

“What’re you looking for?” You ask. You turn the key, and the car shuts off. 

“The power source,” Viktor says, looking at the key in your hand. “May I?”

“Viktor, you’re not cleared to drive,” you say, your voice growing sterner and firmer. “The doctors said your legs are… too weak or something – I don’t know.”

You clutch the key (and the carabiner it’s attached to) tighter in your hand. The charms hanging from it jingle and clink together. A small cog and a toy that looks like a spark plug make a metallic click as they collide.

“What is that?” Viktor reaches out, but just barely stops himself from touching the spark plug toy. You pause for a second, then give him the entire carabiner. 

Viktor holds the spark plug toy up to his face, inspecting it closely. He lets the rest of the charms on the carabiner dangle freely. You watch him – watch his eyes. A spark of gold. A fleck of cooler color in a pool of a warmer, yellowish orange. 

He sets the pad of his thumb on the hex of the toy (the hex here is a piece of metal on a spark plug fitted for a wrench – not the hex you were used to, so long ago). He wiggles it back and forth, then spins it. The hex spins with a barely-audible metallic rasp, like a fidget ring.

“It’s very intricate for a toy,” Viktor says. “Who made this?”

“Wh… you did. You gave that to me,” you say softly. “Why don’t you remember that?”

A quiet question nags the back of your mind – is Viktor getting worse?

You silently beg that you’re right. In a twisted, selfish way, you want him to get worse. You’ve taken care of Viktor before. Watched him die in multiple dimensions. In some of them, he even died in your arms, his golden eyes fading and his hand falling from your cheek.

You know what it’s like to watch him get worse. You’ve done it before, seen it before. You know what to do, how to grieve. You don’t know what you’d do if this is… Viktor. Viktor for real. Your Viktor.

“Are you trying to stifle my curiosity?” Viktor asks, a teasing smile on his face, his eyes still on the toy. 

“You gave it to me… I don’t know, six, seven years ago?” You say. You turn so that your shoulder is leaning against the car seat, facing him. “A spark plug. It’s important to the engine. I don’t remember how. And now… I’m failing your test.”

Viktor puts the carabiner down on the console. He laughs, and he’s looking at you like… you don’t know how he’s looking at you. But it’s something familiar. Something long-lost that you’ve been yearning for. 

“How could I test you on something I barely know anything about?” He asks. His smile falters a little.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you say, smiling. (His laughter always manages to make you smile.) “You know everything there is to know about cars, trucks, motorcycles…”

Viktor’s smile turns forced and confused. His eyebrows furrow a little. “I… have no idea what you’re talking about…”

And then he says it. He says your name. Your real name, your true name – the name V-1 called you. The name the real Viktor called you. 

It goes through you like a cold shock. A baptism in electrified ice water. You want to put your hand to his throat and ask, “What the fuck? What the hell did you just call me? Who’re you talking about?” 

You want to… but you can’t. You’re frozen until Viktor places a hand on yours.

You jerk it away, cradling both hands to your chest and scrunch back against the car door. “Don’t touch me.”

And he says your name again. Again, in that tone that invites sympathy, but mostly pity. He’s pitying you. You’ve gone through this too many times, with too many therapists.

“You – Viktor,” you say, his name coming out in a gasp. There’s a lump in your throat and you feel almost nauseous. 

“You’re not… you’re not the real one,” you grind out. “You’re not my Viktor, so stop acting like it. In th– in this universe, you’re just a friend, and that’s it.”

Viktor is silent, his mouth agape. “My love –”

“Don’t! Please,” you say. The words escape you before you can do anything. “Please, just don’t. Who – who told you?”

“Who told me what?” Viktor asks. His voice is still soft and sympathetic and sickly sweet.

“That you’re… you were…” You slump against the car door. Your elbow knocks against the steering wheel.

You look at him again. Your eyes dart between both of his, looking, observing. They’re not gold anymore. Well, they never really were, but now they’re… they’re opaline – pearlescent. A whole kaleidoscope in a drop. This is something different, but, still… it’s almost like you can sense him. This is the true Viktor – your Viktor. 

“I was there, Runeterra, the core of the hexgates, and then… I wasn’t. I’ve lived twenty-three lives before this. My first memory of… here… is of my fifteenth birthday party. I had to grow up all over again. Make new friends, go to a child’s school. I didn’t have anyone. And you –” Your voice catches in your throat, on both anger and sorrow. “You left me here! You left me to do this all alone!”

“I would never.” Viktor’s cold hands meet yours. He cradles them both. “I would never leave you, my love. I’m so, so sorry.”

“But you did!” You grip his hands as tight as you can, trying to savor the feeling. Tears well at the corners of your eyes. “You left me with this… this rot. These gilded Viktors that look like you, act like you. And it hurt. Everything hurts.”

“I know,” Viktor says softly. “You’re hurting me, too.”

You blink, then realise what you’re doing and loosen your grip on his hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He breathes out a soft laugh, then brushes his thumbs over your knuckles. “It must’ve been lonely, all by yourself.”

“You have no idea,” you say, your voice breaking a little. You blink hard, and a tear runs down your face. “We went to an arcade, and I spent all my quarters on you. We went to a museum, and I bought you a small paperweight of a statue that was on display there. We went to this weird, exotic place – Great Britain, I think it was called – and we shared tea and scones. And, no matter what I did, it… it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. It… he wasn’t you.”

“I’m here now.” Viktor gives your hands a gentle squeeze – much softer than what you gave him. “How long has it been?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you say tearfully. “Time moves differently here. Maybe… sixty years? I’m not sure.”

“Sixty?” Viktor balks. “Oh, my love…”

His hands slowly, carefully, move away from yours. Cold fingers meet your jaw, and your eyes flutter shut on instinct, head tilting down into the touch. Viktor cradles your face, both his thumbs brushing back-and-forth over your cheeks. 

 “I dreamt of you,” you say softly. “Every night. And I thought of you every day. Just… thinking of you, every moment I could spare.”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration,” Viktor says. 

You shake your head and lean further into his touch. “I’ve waited so long… so long. And now you’re here, and I – I don’t know what to do.”

He moves his hands, the tips of his fingers splayed across the sides of your neck and his thumbs gently pressing into your temples. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “This is nice, though. Just… you being here is nice.”

You lean forward, placing your hands over his to ensure they stay in place. “It felt like eternity, waiting for you. Just waiting, and longing. None of them could replace you.”

You open your eyes, just the slightest bit, and take Viktor in. Good god, he’s Viktor. He’s your Viktor. No longer the purest gold, but something new. Something better. Something life-bringing and something with infinite mercy.

“That is flattering, coming from you,” Viktor says. “You could have anyone you want – anyone across twenty-four universes. And you chose me, in every single one? That is the highest praise I could receive.”

You breathe out a laugh as your eyes shut again. “Shut up.”

“Eh… if you continue to act like this, I don’t think I will,” he teases. In a softer, warmer tone, he adds, “Your face is getting warm, too. I can feel it.”

You groan and hide your face in Viktor’s hands further. Even though you act like you hate it, you’ve missed this – you’ve missed this immensely. His teasing, his compliments that make you feel like you hung the sun, the moon, and all the stars by yourself. 

“Maybe you’re just getting warmer in general,” you say softly. “Maybe you’re getting better.”

“I have gotten better,” Viktor says, his voice light. “In our universe… I… I have touched the Arcane. I have been healed, and I am a healer. A herald into a new, better world – not only for the Undercity, but for the whole of Piltover.”

You shift his hands so that they’re resting on your cheeks and open your eyes, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “That sounds nice. I’m… sorry you had to do all that without me.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Viktor asks. “It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t know. I just…” You sigh. “I blamed it all on you, and I was angry. Real angry. But it wasn’t your fault – it wasn’t anyone’s. I was angry and I took it all out on the memory of you.”

“Do you really think I care?” His voice is soft as he swipes a thumb over your cheek. 

“No,” you admit after a moment. “But, still…”

“You are occupying your mind with the past and what-ifs,” Viktor says. He draws a hand over your scalp, his fingernails lightly digging into the skin there. “Focus on the here, the now.”

You shudder and melt into his hands. Your eyes, though still closed, sting with a fresh wave of tears. 

“I missed you,” you choke out. 

“You’ve said that already,” Viktor says. 

“I can’t say it enough,” you say, your voice sticky and wet. “I was your champion in the arena. I was your personal knight. I was the chieftain of your armies. I was your tool, your instrument. And you were my everything.”

“You are my everything,” he says. His tone is so sincere and heartfelt that it makes your throat seize up. “Why would you ever doubt that?”

“I didn’t,” you say. “It–it’s just that, all these memories… I was so many people, and so were you. And some things blur together, and it gets hard to differentiate everything, and…”

You groan and lean into Viktor’s touch. You glance up into his eyes, still opaline. “Everything got so complicated so fast. I just wanted you – the real you.”

“It’s okay, my love.” His hands move to hold your jaw, to draw you closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“But I feel like I have to,” you say. “I just… I just want you back. I wanna go back to the Viktor I know. I wanna go home.”

“We can go home,” Viktor says. “I can take you home.”

“Then take me home,” you say, almost too quickly. “Viktor, please.”

“You don’t have to beg,” he says. There is no teasing or hidden malice in his voice. He just wants you home, too. 

Viktor’s hands slide to the back of your head, his palms almost cradling your skull. He presses his fingers down and tilts your head forward, towards his. Your eyes flutter shut as your forehead touches his. 

It’s white. It’s the bright, cleansing light of some sort of heaven. Heaven? Haven? You’re not too sure. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care, either. Not when you’re here – not when your Viktor is in reach. Not when you can touch him, hold him, talk to the one you love. The one you’ve been pining for, fighting for, losing and winning for. From somewhere between sixty years and eternity, you’ve been wanting him. And now he’s here. Your Viktor is here. 

It’s unbelievable. Your Viktor is here. 

The memories of your past lives, the former realities you’ve lived, meld and blur into distinct feelings. Visual memories blend into base emotions. A warrior’s pride. A traveler’s wanderlust. A teenager’s excitement. A knight’s confidence and courage. A chieftain’s insecurity cloaked as hostility. 

They melt away into contentment. A gentle wave lapping at a quiet shore. Acceptance. 

You are healed. 

You are home. 

[raspberriesss]

Thinking about Simon seeing you in his clothes pt.2 Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader First smut, hope ya'll enjoy! ೃ⁀➷Part 1

Simon pushed you up against the counter, his hot breath on your neck as he mumbled in your ear, "Lemme touch you, baby, you look so gorgeous right now." You let out a shaky breath, nodding your head at his words. "Wanna hear you say it, can you tell me?" He said in the same hushed tone, his chapped lips moving down to press delicate kisses to your neck. "Yes--Simon, please," you choked out, feeling his hand move further underneath your panties, his rough hand cupping your mound.

"All I needed, pretty girl," he breathed out against your skin, his other hand moving to tug down your panties. The fabric fell by your ankles, and before you could step out of them Simon nudged you further against the counter. You could feel his erection pressing insistently against your ass, hearing him let out a groan against your neck at the pressure. His teeth nipped at your skin, tongue soothing over the soon-to-be-red mark. Thick fingers ran through your slick folds, a shaky sigh leaving your throat at the intimate feeling.

"S' wet for me, you wanted this, huh?" He said gruffly, bringing a hand up to rest on your back, gently bending you over the cold kitchen counter. You braced yourself up on your elbows, head leaning to the side as he continued to pepper kisses down your neck. His hand trailed between your folds, gathering your slick onto his fingers before pushing one into your tight hole. Instinctively, your thighs clenched together at the intrusion, a gasp leaving your throat.

His finger moved slowly, being gentle as he began to stretch you out. "This ok?" He asked quietly, gently kissing your cheek, nuzzling into you. "Yes," you stuttered out, giving him a reassuring nod. He pumped his finger in and out of you, your cheeks flushed, your heart beginning to beat quicker in your chest at the feeling. "Can you take another one, sweets?" He asked in the same quiet tone, the tip of another one of his fingers prodding at your leaking entrance. You nodded your head once more, feeling his other finger begin to slowly penetrate your hole.

Letting out a whimper at the feeling of being stretched, he halted his movements, letting you adjust. His now-soft lips pressed sweet kisses across your cheek, moving down your jaw. "Love to make you feel good," he murmured against your skin. His thick fingers scissored your tight walls, lips finding yours, swallowing your whimpers. "Please move," you breathed into his mouth, his thick fingers beginning to pump in and out of your sopping hole. Curling his digits inside of you, he hit deeply against the sweet, spongey spot along your velvet walls. Soft noises of pleasure began to spill from your lips as he continued, eyes squeezing shut. Your legs were practically like jelly as the rough pad of his thumb pressed against your swollen nub, his strong arm snaking around your middle to steady you. "Gotcha baby, s' ok," he said softly, speeding up the thrusting of his fingers.

"Simon," you moaned out at the feeling, your heart hammering in your chest as you felt the knot beginning to build up in the pit of your stomach. His fingers stopped their movements, his thumb rubbing tight, quick circles against your puffy bud, fingers grinding against your fluttering walls. "Please," you croaked out, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead as you got closer. His fingers began moving again, curling against the spot that had you seeing stars. "Let go, I got you," he reassured you softly, pressing kisses down your skin as you clenched around his fingers, crying out his name.

He slowed his movements, letting you ride out your high, before pulling his slick-coated fingers from your hole. "You, ok? Did so good," He said softly, his other arm wrapping around your middle, holding you gently against him. Your head nodded at his words, glossed-over eyes opening, letting out shaky breaths. His hand moved down, grasping around the backs of your knees, lifting you up against his chest, carrying you bridal-style down the hall to the bathroom. He gently sat you down on the toilet. Grabbing a washcloth, he wet it under warm water before returning to you. Kneeling in front of you he gently nudged your legs apart.

He wiped gently at your folds, cleaning you up, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his calloused hand cupping your cheek. "You should wear my stuff more, looks too damn good on you.”

Please feel free to leave requests! : ̗̀➛ 💌

[beckyninja]

Dark Intentions

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Violence against those who do and don't deserve it

Description: Dark plots are uncovered in the aftermath of the Guilliman's fiancée's "death".

Did any of you really think I'd end Guilliman and the Reader's story like that?

This is the latest in my GuillimanxFemReader series. Check out the previous fics (and others) on my Masterlist.

She is gone.

Sirens blared. Voices shouted. 

She is gone.

“Their ships have disappeared from all scanners!” “Picking up a warp signature… they’re fleeing!” “Wait…missile launches!”

Gone.

“Report on missile trajectory!” “They’re not aimed at us, Lord.”

Gone.

“Holy Terra!”

New explosions lit the void as missiles riddled Captain Takahashi’s ship. The sleek, tapered vessel writhed as if in agony for a few moments before its spine shattered. Charred debris spun in all directions, bouncing off the Macragge’s Honor’s void shields.

Gone.

In the time between heartbeats. Between breaths. One moment warm and full of life. The next….

“My Lord Primarch!”

Guilliman looked upon the scowling visage of Cato Sicarius, only to see his expression morph into something else. Something pale and wide-eyed. The Captain of the Victrix Guard took a step back.

“Prepare to enter the Warp.”

His words? Yes, he felt his lips move, the vibration of his vocal chords.

“We pursue.”

Why could he not recognize his own voice?

“My Lord,” Cato struggled to maintain eye contact, “without a set destination-”

“More contacts, my lords!” The serf at the communications cogitator shouted. “I am picking up numerous small vessels. Life pods from the destroyed cruiser.”

Guilliman turned away. Back toward the void. He heard himself speak once more.

“Send transports to retrieve the survivors. One of them will show us the final approach to… her… home world. We will chase those who did this back to their very gates.”

Something flickered within the hollowed out shell of his soul. It grew into a howling conflagration, yet his voice remained colder than a Fenrisian winter.

“And they will know pain.”

***

Battle Brother Julian Tarchus fought to awaken. He felt as though he was drowning in the ocean he’d swam in as a boy, clawing toward the surface with all his might. Fragmented images raced through his mind.

Bent nearly double in the passenger compartment of the foreign transport… you seated next to him… your sympathetic smile….

A sudden thrum… another, identical ship appearing out of nowhere next to them… an impact…an explosion…curling himself around you….

The bitter taste of chemicals as gas filled the compartment.

“...metabolizing the sedative. Faster than anything I’ve ever seen!”

“Increase the dosage again.”

He forced his eyes open.

Bright, white lights nearly blinded him. He lay in what he could only describe as an Apothecarion of some kind. Screens flashed data. Unfamiliar medical equipment loomed above him. No candles. No holy shrines. 

Not an Imperial ship.

He tried to rise from his prone position, only to meet resistance.

“Doctor! He’s waking up!”

Tarchus turned his head to see a male baseline in a flimsy looking uniform of some kind, white as everything else seemed to be in this damned chamber. A cloth mask covered his lower face. Fear flickered in his wide eyes.

“I said increase the dosage, damn you!”

Turning his head the other way brought another male baseline into view. Slightly different uniform. Same mask.

He glared at the first male. “Useless! I’ll do it myself!”

He reached for a bag of clear liquid hanging to one side, syringe in hand.

Tarchus reacted first. He tore through whatever bound his wrists with contemptuous ease and lurched upward. The world spun. He felt his body breaking down whatever poisons they’d injected into him, but his reaction time still seemed pathetically slow.

The first baseline screamed and fled, dodging the Ultramarine’s grasp by millimeters as he scrambled through a door on the opposite side of the chamber.

“Warp…damn it….” Tarchus rasped through a bone-dry throat.

“We have an emergency!” The Ultramarine turned to see the second baseline babbling into some kind of vox-caster set into the white wall. “Subject has awakened and appears hostile! Send armed aid to Surgical Room-” His voice turned to a gurgle as Tarchus’s fingers wrapped around his throat. 

The warrior lifted the writhing baseline off his feet, watching the man’s face begin to purple. Only then did he realize they’d stripped him of his armor and body suit.

He stood in the white room in nothing but his loincloth.

Rage tightened his grip on the struggling chirurgeon, for so the baseline must be.

“Where…is…the…Lady?”

Lord Guilliman had given him a sacred task: protect his betrothed at all costs. It was a task Tarchus had volunteered for, even against the disapproval of Captain Sicarius. Their Genefather saw value in you. 

You who looked at him with neither fear nor slavish subservience.

You who went out of your way to converse with him.

You who he found himself liking.

You belonged to the Chapter now. He would not fail you.

The baseline’s eyes rolled back in his sockets. Tarchus huffed and dropped him to the tiled floor. The man gasped. The Ultramarine smelled the sour stench of fresh urine.

“I…will not…ask again.”

“Sh-sh-she is-”

The door burst open. Tarchus grunted as what felt like a half dozen projectiles slammed into his back. He spun towards the intruders.

Theoretical: Charge is missing. Probability suggests you remain somewhere in this locale. Crew has proven hostile. Armor and weapons unavailable.

Practical: Attain armor and weapons. Search locale. Permanently remove obstructions. Not necessarily in that order.

He charged the armed baselines in the doorway. 

More projectiles peppered his  upper chest. To their credit, the soldiers in strange, carapace-like armor held their ground… for the first few seconds. 

He crushed a helmeted head in one fist. With the other hand he backhanded a soldier, sending him flying into the wall. A kick dispatched another with a wet crunch. Blood spattered. The thrill of battle lit within his veins.

Then the enemy broke and ran.

Tarchus found himself in a broad corridor of shining metal. When he straightened, the top of his head brushed the grated ceiling. Alarms blared and red lights flashed.

Well, it is not as if I was trying for stealth.

A grim humor twisted his lips as he strode forward. He considered going back to question the chirurgeon again, then decided against it. If these humans held you captive, he could not afford to waste a second.

Signs dotted the doors and walls he passed. He scowled, wishing he’d thought to learn to read your language as well as speak it. Nothing to do but press forward. Glancing through the few open doors revealed more medical equipment and tables. 

Still in whatever passes for the Apothecarion, then.

The sheer amount of artificial illumination disoriented him. He found himself longing for the dim corridors and flickering candlelight of an Imperial warship.

Am I even on a voidship? How long was I unconscious?

He pushed such questions from his mind.

Shouts and the pounding of boots on metal sounded ahead. He frowned. The projectile weapons the first soldiers had used did little against his toughened skin. But his enemies knew that now, and doubtless would utilize more destructive arms.

Without his armor he remained at a disadvantage.

I should proceed with caution.

A sharp cry from around the approaching corner electrified every nerve in his body. He knew that voice.

Caution be damned!

He bellowed and charged. “For the Emperor!” 

The pair of soldiers setting up what looked to be a heavy lasgun had no time to even cry out before he was upon them. Wiping blood and brain matter from his eyes, he lifted the weapon. Not a lazgun, but he could see no projectiles either.

No matter. As long as it deals death and ruin.

Just ahead, more soldiers crouched behind a makeshift barricade of crates and tables. One hefted a long tube to his shoulder and pointed it in his direction. Tarchus pulled his weapon’s trigger and the white beam it produced reduced the soldier to a charred husk.

The Ultramarine grinned.

“Tarchus!”

He shifted his attention to a knot of figures further behind the barricade. There was a short struggle, and a disheveled female pushed forward.

You.

“Praise the Emperor.” He rasped, feeling a great weight lift from his shoulders.

His relief turned to white hot rage as another figure stretched out a hand and caught you by your hair. The tall baseline male yanked you back against him, pressing a pistol to your throat.

Tarchus growled.

“Drop the cannon, brute. Or watch me paint the walls with her blood.”

For an instant, the Ultramarine hesitated. A mistake that cost him dearly.

Weight like a Land Raider dropped upon his shoulders. It drove him to his knees, the breath forced from all three lungs. He heard you scream and fought to rise...

…to no avail. 

Whatever trap they’d laid held him pinned to the floor like an insect beneath a boot. He squeezed the weapon’s trigger once more, bisecting the first two soldiers who dared approach, before feeling it yanked from his weakening grasp.

He tried to curse his enemy, to make any noise at all, only to find he lacked the breath to do so. Craning his neck, his eyes met your horrified gaze.

Forgive me.

A half hysterical laugh. “Well, well, dear cousin! It seems the famed Space Marines aren’t so invincible after all! Kill him.”

The approach of boots. A cold muzzle against his temple.

Not like this. Emperor, not like this!

“Wait!” You screamed.

Your captor’s voice sank into a vicious hiss. “Are you fond of your betrothed’s attack dog, my dear? Would you have him live?”

Tarchus thrashed with all that remained of his fading strength. “No…,my Lady, do not….”

Your next words drowned him in shame. “Don’t kill him, Victor. I’ll do whatever you want. But please don’t kill him!”

No.

“It’s a deal then.” Victor’s triumphant laugh rang throughout the corridor. “As long as you cooperate, the beast lives. Sergeant? If you would?”

The muzzle lifted from his temple. Tarchus heard the crackle of electricity. Then white hot pain lanced through his skull, driving him back down into darkness.

It paled in comparison to the agony of failure.

***

Victor’s fingers dug into your arm as he dragged you through the bowels of his ship. You felt his nails break skin, adding to the innumerable cuts and bruises covering your body. You ached.

Part of you still prayed this was all a nightmare. That you’d awaken in your bed aboard The Macragge’s Honor, soon to bask in the warmth of blue eyes again.

Oh Light! Roboute! 

He thought you dead. You knew it with absolute certainty. Tears filled your eyes as you imagined his anguish.

“Crying again?” Your cousin snorted. “How very unattractive.”

In an instant, your grief turned to fury. “You bastard!”

He laughed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you!”

The mercenaries escorting the two of you snickered. Your face burned.

“I hate you.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes. “Careful now. You know what happens if you try me.”

Tarchus….

He’d fought so hard to save you. How your heart had leapt when he’d come charging around that corner, bellowing his battle cry! How it had bled when he lay helpless under tons of scrap metal.

The look in his eyes when you surrendered your dignity to save him.

Even if he survives, he’ll never forgive me.

“Where did your animals take him?”

The mercenaries stopped snickering and glared. You lifted your chin and glared straight back.

Victor didn’t spare you a glance. “The Predator’s brig is extensive, cousin. I had it expanded just recently.” He giggled. “And he won’t be lonely.”

“What have you done?”

“In a moment, fair cousin.” He jerked to a halt, pushing you roughly against a wall. “Ah! Here we are!”

A few punches of a key code and a door slid open. You were dragged into a room that could have belonged to your family’s most luxurious manor house. Plush carpets covered the floor, except for the gilded tiles beneath a bubbling fountain. Heavy, cushioned furniture of rare wood furnished the chamber: chairs, a table laden with flowers and delicacies, and a massive, four-poster bed.

“Impressive, no? I had it designed as an exact copy of my bedchamber in the Palace.” He shoved you toward a chair. “Sit. Relax.”

You gazed up at him.

“Speechless?” He grinned, the scar on his cheek gleaming scarlet, and turned to his guards. “Out.”

The older of the two hesitated. “Any orders for the Captain, my Prince?”

Victor sighed. “The same as they were the last time he asked. Make straight for TerraNova with all speed.”

“And…if we’re followed?”

“By who? The Barbarian King thinks she’s dead.” He jerked a thumb in your direction. “Investment gone. He’ll cut his losses and move on. And even if he does try to follow,” Victor grinned, “without the good Captain to guide him through the Wards, he could spend centuries wandering the void and never find our system.”

You leapt to your feet. “What have you done to Captain Takahashi?”

“Oh, I sent a dozen or so nukes into her cruiser as we entered the Warp. Had to make sure, you know.”

Horror. Fury. You threw yourself at him with a scream.

He caught your flailing hands and laughed. “Temper, temper, cousin. That little outburst will cost your beast an eye.”

You froze. “No, Victor-”

“See to it, Sergeant.”

“Wait, wait! I’m sorry!”

He only laughed again, catching you against his chest as the mercenaries left the room. You sagged against him.

Tarchus, forgive me.

Helplessness. You remembered this feeling. You swore you’d never feel it again. What a fool you’d been.

Victor’s hands ran up and down your back. “There we go. Isn’t it easier when you stop fighting?”

He pushed, and you collapsed back into the chair, staring at nothing. Numb.

Your cousin crouched before you. “And here I was worried you’d grown a spine. Happy to see I was wrong.” He grasped your chin, tilting it back and forth. “Pretty enough. Though I still can’t see why a so-called demi-god would want you.”

Roboute.

He’d had such faith in you. Your eyes focused once more.

“I’ll ask again, Victor. What are you doing?”

He stood and sauntered over to the table, poking amongst the fruits and sweets. “I was supposed to make sure you were dead. That’s what Granny Dearest ordered. You dead, me the Heir, and she the ultimate power.”

“What about the coup?”

“Oh, it’s going wonderfully! Grandmother’s forces have trapped the Grand Council on the Eastern Continent. She’s been stocking the military with her supporters for decades now, you see. And those who wouldn’t fall in line?” He shoved a chocolate into his mouth. “Well, the asteroid mining camps always need more free labor.”

Decades. They’d been planning this for decades.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “And Conrad?”

“Disappeared. But who cares about him, anyway? Pitiful little intellectual.” He spat the word.

“Did my message even make it through?”

Victor shrugged. “And if it did? Who would react? The Council is fighting for their lives. The Military is ours.”

“The people-”

“Are a rabble of cowards, so used to being under Granny’s boot they couldn’t rise up even if they wanted to.”

You gritted your teeth. “The Church, then.”

Your cousin’s grin sent chills down your spine. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Grandmother began a purge of the Abbeys and Monasteries shortly after you left. Hotbeds of rebellion, those places.”

You felt as though he’d punched you in the stomach. 

The Abbey. The Holy Sisters. My home.

Rage boiled within you again, but this time, you held it back.

“Why do this, Victor? Grandmother is already Matriarch. What more could she want?”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” He slouched against the table. “Ever since she usurped the Patriarch, our much revered Grandfather, Granny’s craved power like a twitcher craves stims. The Council, the Articles of Government, all these things stood in her way.”

You thought of the years you’d spent locked within the Palace. Alone. Isolated. While schemes were being hatched all around you.

If I’d been braver, stronger, could I have prevented this? How many lie dead because I was too stupid to-

No. You could not let regret paralyze you. Not now.

Your hand sought the ring Roboute had given you. Perhaps touching it would bring you some much needed strength.

By the Light! The ring!

You stared down at your bare hand.

“Looking for this?” Victor tossed something that glittered gold and blue up and down in his hand. “Pretty bauble. Did he give it to you?”

You clenched your hands into fists.

The beacon. How could I have forgotten?!

Victor’s hand closed around it. “I think I’ll hang onto it. Wouldn’t be right for my consort to wear jewelry gifted to her by another man.”

Your eyes snapped to his. “Your consort.”

He stalked toward you. “I saved you, you know. Grandmother wanted you dead, but I defied her.” 

You pushed yourself back into the chair as he knelt before you, idly slipping Roboute’s ring into his uniform jacket. “When she defeats the Council’s forces, she’ll be weakened, cousin. Vulnerable. And then you and I and my fleet will swoop in and vanquish the tyrannical hag.”

His hands landed on your knees and slowly slid upward.

It took everything in you not to cringe. “And…we’ll rule together?”

“Of course.” His eyes burned. “The people already love you, their Princess in the Tower. They sing songs about you in the taverns. And I’m the War Hero who fought off a Tyranid invasion!” His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs. “Who would stand against us?”

No one. Until it was too late.

Fighting back waves of revulsion, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. How frail it felt compared to your betrothed’s! You watched your cousin’s face twist with lust.

Forgive me, Roboute.

You kissed Victor.

He snarled into your mouth, his teeth catching your lips and drawing blood. His hands dug into your hair. You felt yourself slammed backward, your head knocking against the chair’s hard frame. 

Your cousin took no care with your body. He pawed and tore, aggravating your bruises and cuts, without a thought for your pleasure. Nausea threatened to overwhelm you. You heard the fabric of your bodice rip.

“What the Void is this?!”

All of a sudden you were dragged from the chair and thrown to the floor. Victor stood above you, mad rage in his eyes. He jabbed a finger toward your shoulder.

The shoulder Roboute had sunk his teeth into on your last night together.

“You whore! You damned slut!” Victor’s boot met your ribs with a crack.

You folded in on yourself, arms wrapping about your head.

“You spread your legs for that… freak?!” Your cousin straddled you, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking your head back. “You think I’d let you rule beside me? A stupid little scrap of used flesh like you?”

He pressed his mouth close to your ear. “I don’t need a consort. I just need a working womb. Remember that, bitch.”

With a final curse, he slammed your head against the carpeted floor and stalked out of the room. You heard the door lock behind him.

For a long while you lay there, letting the pain ricochet around your body before finally fading into a dull throb. You knew how to take a beating. Light knew, you’d taken more than your fair share.

Your split lips stretched in a smile as you gazed down at the gold and sapphire ring in the palm of your hand.

Pray the Light has mercy on your soul, Victor. For he will not.

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[cherrysweets-world]

Eyes of the Gods V

series masterlist - part IV

Pairing: Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta

Summary: The Emperors are not subtle with their interest in you and others have begun to notice

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, eventual dub-con, power imbalances, mentions of previous domestic abuse, controlling behaviour, forced proximity, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy realtionships, unedited

Word Count: 3.5k

Sleep would not come. You tossed and turned for several hours before giving in and re-lighting the candle. Holding your fingers in the warmth of the flame, you began to contemplate your life.

The candlelight flickered and made you feel like the walls were closing in. In some aspects they already had. The walls had closed in without you even knowing it, so distracted by your own wariness. Now you were here, alone, and in reach of the emperors who had put you here.

How had you been so blind? Your own lack of self worth had made you stupid, disbelieving that the Emperors could have such interest in you. You had floated through those first two days, thinking that at any moment they would drop you, bored, like a forgotten toy. To your knowledge that was what usually happened! You had even see it; limping concubines and abandoned slaves. Instead, whatever was between the three of you had grown and mutated into something you had no hope in understanding.

The Emperors had power, yes, there was no denying it. Yet part of you felt as though you were giving them more. Specifically over you. They had not said you could not leave your rooms. So why stay when sleep insisted on evading you?

Your father had had that kind of hold on you and your mother. The situations were not perfectly similar but you were loathe to think you had allowed another man to control you like that. The thoughts made you feel irrational, made you feel like doing something dangerous.

The flame licked at your finger tips and you hissed, pulling them back to your chest. You knew this palace well. Better than the Emperors, even. You knew all the secret spots, all the ways to sneak around without being spotted. Perhaps it was time to put that knowledge to good use. A tiny rebellion of sorts.

Your mind was made up. If you thought on it too long you would lose all courage. Slipping into your sandals, you tried not to think too hard about what you were doing.

"I am going for a walk in the gardens," you said to yourself, "as I am entitled to do. I have not been told I cannot do otherwise."

The look Geta had given you flashed across your eyes and you squeezed them shut, dismissing him.

Reaching under your mattress, you gave your carved wolf a squeeze and then let go. You mumbled a quick prayed to Fortuna and then slowly opened your door, scanning the corridors before poking out your head.

There was no-one you could see. That did not mean that no-one was actually there; you were too close to the Emperor's chambers for their to be no Praetorians.

Part of you knew you were taking a risk. If you were so confident that you were allowed to leave your room then why did you feel the need to evade the Praetorians?

You scrubbed your sweaty palms down your sleepwear. The plain white wrap would make you a glaring target but your other options were no better. It did not matter; you needed fresh air. Needed to take it without the weight of eyes upon you. The illusion of freedom was better than nothing.

You slipped from your room like a breath in the wind. As expected, the first hallway you came to was lined with Praetorians. You wasted no time in slipping by them, dipping into a stairwell and tip-toeing down.

All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. The sound made you dizzy and you allowed yourself to stop for a moment, steadying yourself. Trembling, you stumbled down the rest of the stairs under you reached a landing. There were yet more guards but they were looking for people sneaking in, rather than out. Waiting until their backs were turned, you made a mad dash for freedom.

The rest of the way was mercifully quiet. Slowing down, you appreciated the silence. Yours were the one footsteps you could hear. It was funny; that night, when you had first met Caracalla, you had been terrified of these empty halls. Now they curved around you, protective, and you brushed a hand against them in familiarity.

Cool air blasted you when you finally stepped foot outside. You laughed and it was immediately lost to the wind. You were not as weak as you thought. You would do whatever you could to hold onto this feeling of dependence.

The air was biting and made your eyes water. Staying out here for long was not an option. Goosebumps emerged along your arms and thighs as the wind pushed itself under your clothes.

When the gusts softened, you wandered further out. You allowed yourself slow appraisals of all the flowers, most of which you did not recognise. You had had no interest in gardening before but they suddenly felt like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Your past and present slipped from you like water. In this moment, it was only you. You could pretend that you had all the choices in the world.

And you did have choices. It was the consequences that scared you. You wished you could peer into the future and see all the possible answers, all the solutions, and make your mind based on those. But you were no seer; the future was barred from your questioning eyes. You would simply have to wait and go the long way around to see what the future held.

An abrupt sound startled you and you whipped around, eyes searching. At first you thought the garden was empty and you relaxed, releasing your death-grip on your elbows.

A flash of red made your head swim and you stood still, mouth parting. No, you almost moaned, no, no, no.

Gravel crunched underfoot as Geta appeared, rounding a flower bed and jerking to a stop. His cheeks were red despite being dressed warmer than you. His mouth parted at the sight of you and you swallowed hard.

Fortuna, you languished, you have forsaken me.

It took you a moment to realise it was not bad luck or coincidence that Geta had stumbled across you. It was difficult to see them through the myriad of plants but several Praetorians had accompanied Geta to the gardens. It seemed that you had not been quite as subtle as you had thought.

Geta started towards you and you squeaked, not daring to back away. It took only several paces before he reached you, grasping your elbows and yanking you to his chest.

"You," he gaped," what were you thinking?"

He gave you a hard shake to force the answer out of you. He was out of breath, almost gasping, and you were stunned into silence.

"Come," he barked, yanking you back the way he came.

You lurched after him, gravel grazing the tips of your toes. Thought escape you and all you could do was lock your eyes on the back of Geta's robe. The pattern was exquisite and you wondered what it would feel like beneath your fingers.

You expected him to let you go once you were back inside but he did not. He continued to pull you along, barking orders at Praetorians, all the way back to your rooms. Your face crumpled at the sight of it but you did not protest as he wrenched you inside and shut the door, sealing both him and you in.

He swiped a hand over his face, shaking. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you are that it was not Caracalla who stumbled upon your ridiculous little escape plan?"

"I -"

"You are well aware that he has some sort of dependency on you," Geta continued, pacing back and forth, "yet you would abandon him at the first chance you had?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I wanted only to see the gardens!"

Geta stopped, eying you with disbelief. He looked on edge. He almost reminded you of Caracalla in one of his episodes. The more you learned, the more you realised how similar they were.

"The gardens?" he spat. "In the middle of the night? In the cold?"

You brushed your fingers down your arms, embarrassed. "Yes."

Geta shook his head, eyes flickering all over you. His eyes narrowed as he finally seemed to register what you were wearing. "And in those clothes?"

Nothing you said was going to make him calm down. You let your eyes settle on the floor and thinned your lips.

"You could have asked," he finally said, shoulders sagging inward.

"Asked?"

"To see the gardens," he threw his hands into the air. "I would have had someone accompany you. You could not comprehend the trouble you have caused tonight."

"What right do I have to ask for anything?" you said, shocked. "I am a servant, barely more than a slave."

Geta studied you in that way you had become almost used to. His mouth worked, opening and closing several times before settling into a fine line.

"Yes," he agreed, "and you will obey your emperors. You are not to leave your room till morning and we will have someone fetch you when we are ready. Goodnight."

He turned to your bed and yanked up the sheet, throwing it upon you before exiting from the room. He slammed the door shut and you stood in stunned silence, frozen until you heard the deathly sound of a lock sliding shut.

"No," you murmured at first, then quickly got louder. "No, don't!"

Your emotions spilled out of you all at once. Throwing yourself against the door you began to pound upon it. Geta was still outside; you could see his shadow lingering beneath the door.

"Please," you begged, "I am sorry, Emperor, please."

The shadow disappeared as though it had never been there. Choking on your own tears, you rested your forehead against the wood, fists aching. You let out one long, primal scream and then fell back, yanking the covers over your head and angrily wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

You fell asleep like that, hands clenching the covers and cursing whatever Gods had pushed this fate upon you.

True to his word, Geta did send someone the next morning. A Praetorian soldier opened the door and peered in, cringing at your rumpled form on the bed.

"I am Consus," he said reluctantly. "The Emperors have sent me to retrieve you."

You scowled at the innocent man, dragging your body from the sheets. Your head was pounding and there were multiple spots on your hands where the skin had cracked and bled from your pounding on the door.

You were still in your bed clothes. Dirt stained the bottom and there were smears of blood dotted all over it.

"I need to get ready," you grumbled.

"That. . .will not be necessary," the guard said. "You will be relieved of your usual duties today but you must accompany me to the emperors."

Usual duties, you thought, whatever those were. But you were in no mood to argue so you stomped into your sandals and trailed after Consus. Whatever fight you had left had been squeezed out of you late last night. Now there was only the stinging of your hands and aching of your head.

It took less than two minutes to reach Geta's quarters. You had been foolish to think he would not learn of your brief dash for freedom.

Consus held open the door and announced your presence to the room. No-one had ever done that before. You had not been important enough.

You held your head up as much as you could and entered the room. Caracalla was the first to see you. It was almost comical the way his grin dropped from his face.

He stood up so fast that Dondus squeaked and leapt from his shoulder. He stormed over to you and cupped your hands in his, turning them over again and again as though he could not believe what he was seeing.

"What is this?" he was horrified. As though he had not caused worse injuries and found amusement in them.

"Brother," he snapped, "look. Someone has - someone has -"

Geta finally looked up. Despite being the last to see you, he was also stunned by your appearance. He swallowed harshly and stood straighter.

"She had a rough night, brother," he attempted to soothe Caracalla. "The healer is on the way."

His eyes told you not to say anything. You would not. There was no telling how Caracalla would react if he learned the truth of your escapade last night. Even though you had not truly tried to escape, it only mattered that Geta thought you had.

Caracalla yanked a hand through his hair. "Brother -"

"Enough," Geta raised his voice. "She is hurting. Let her sit."

The words seemed to do something to Caracalla and he steered you to a plush sofa, pulling you down so that you were half on his lap. You had no will to try to move and only sagged, letting Caracalla's hands wander over you.

It was strange how his jerky movements almost soothed you. Perhaps you were only glad for the company, having spent majority of last night confined to your quarters.

"Where does it hurt?" he whispered, eyes fixated on the darkened blood on your clothing.

"My head," you admitted, "and my hands."

Caracalla dusted careful fingers over your temples before turning his attention to your hands. He brought them to his face and kissed your palms. Your eyes welled from the soft touches. He murmured sweet nothings, brows furrowed as he took in your injuries. The smaller they were, the more they hurt. You sucked in a breath when his tongue darted out and swiped over a cut.

Consus appeared in the door once more, this time announcing the healer. The gentleman walked in, holding a leather bag that clinked with ointments and creams.

"Leave them and get out," Caracalla demanded, becoming louder when the man stalled. "Out!"

You would have felt pity for the man on any other day. He shrugged the bag from his shoulder and left it on a table, backing out of the room with his hands held up.

To your surprise it was Geta who retrieved the bag, handing it carefully to his brother. He eyed you in the way he often did and you held his gaze. Something like guilt flickered over his face but it was gone before you could analyse it.

Caracalla busied himself with the contents of the bag. He held up an expensive looking jar of cream and set it aside before picking up something much more recognisable - a small bottle of alcohol.

He popped the cork off. "This will sting."

You gasped and tried to yank your hands away but Caracalla held them steady as he dribbled small amounts of the liquid onto your palms. He used his own clothing to wipe away the traces of blood as if was nothing.

The cream was better. He dabbed it onto your cuts, glancing up at your face to gauge your reaction. You tried not to dwell to much on the fact that an Emperor of Rome was treating your superficial wounds.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," you nodded. "Thank you, Emperor."

He looked over his shoulder and then back at you before leaning in to whisper, "You can address me as Caracalla."

A lump lodged itself in your throat. How many times had Caracalla been treated for his own injuries that he knew how to treat you for yours?

"What truly happened last night?" he asked you, careful to make sure Geta could not hear.

"Emperor Geta locked me in my room," you answered honestly.

Caracalla thought about it for a moment. "It is better that way," he decided. "It keeps you safe. Don't you want to be safe for us?"

Of course. Caracalla was no different to his brother though you could not pretend to understand their emotions or motivations.

Geta was watching the pair of you. He looked down when you noticed, pretending to be ensconced in his paperwork. Ignoring you just as he did last night when he left you screaming in your room.

You spent the whole day laying about in Geta's chambers. Caracalla doted on you, feeding you bits of food and checking on your wounds.

The more he touched you the harder it was to pull away. His touches got firmer, bolder; the back of your neck, your arms, even your thighs when you shifted. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until it was impossible to ignore the blatant way he was panting over you.

And it was not as though you were immune to his caresses.

After a few hours of torture, Geta turned his attention back to you.

"There is a gathering tonight," he said, "you will get ready."

"And what am I to do at this gathering?" you boldly asked.

Geta pulled you from the plush cushions by your wrist. He leaned in close. "You are going because I cannot trust you enough to leave you alone. Do not complain; it is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself."

His mocking tone sent a spike of anger through you. You deigned not to respond. Such blatant disrespect was stupid but you were still unfathomably angry that he had locked you away. You wanted to say that he had no right but, as Emperor, he did. Geta and Caracalla could do anything they wished and you were constantly reminded of it.

Geta pointed you to some clothes hanging up on a privacy screen. He dragged Caracalla away so you could change in peace - an apology of sorts? You yanked on the clothing and tried to let your temper cool. It would do you no good to have an attitude in the presence of others.

Once more you were back in the entertainment hall. Geta had you stationed by a wall, offering cups to anyone who wanted one. It was obvious you had been placed there only because it kept you firmly in his sight.

After an hour you found yourself feeling calmer, taking purpose in your small task. The familiarity made you at ease and you were able to put the Emperors to the back of your mind.

They were surrounded by concubines and tittering senators. A woman was perched on the cushions behind Geta, rubbing a hand on his shoulder and occasionally allowing it to dip beneath his clothing. Geta met your eyes across the room and leaned back, allowing her further contact.

The concubines were having a difficult time with Caracalla. He would relax into their forward touches and then suddenly jerk forward, shoving them away and screaming obscenities. You had never seen him quite so wild at a gathering; it was known that Caracalla enjoyed parties and was most approachable during them.

The concubines did not know what to do with themselves. Breaking point was reached when one dared to slip his hand beneath Caracalla's tunic. Immediately Caracalla was upon the man, hands flying in every which direction and beating the him to a near pulp.

How was this the same man who had so softly attended to you earlier? Your anger seeped away and was replaced by familiar fear. What would it take for him to turn on you like that?

Praetorians approached and dragged the concubine away. The party continued as though nothing at happened. These people cared not for the lives of those below them.

Caracalla's eyes darted about the room. Searching for you, no doubt. You recoiled into the wall and shrank in on yourself, desperate to go unnoticed.

Someone did spot you, but it was not Caracalla. The master of gladiators gave you a predators smile and sauntered over, plucking a cup from the tray you were holding.

Something about Macrinus unnerved you. His smile was open enough but you did not trust the man. That had never mattered before when you were a simple servant in the kitchen but now. . .

"It is you," he smiled teasingly, bumping you with his elbow.

You recoiled at the unwanted touch. "I'm sorry?"

"You," he repeated, " who has enamoured the emperors and now takes up so much of their time."

Something cold slithered into your stomach. You did not like Macrinus - did not like that this man knew so much about you.

"I. . .do not know what you are speaking of," the lie caught in your throat but you pushed it out anyway.

Macrinus laughed, loud and cold. "I think you do."

At that moment Caracalla appeared, wrapping his hand around your elbow and exposing the lie you had told.

"I want to leave," he grumbled, "come now."

He uttered a tense greeting to Macrinus and dragged you from the room. You went willingly, thankful for any distance between yourself and the master of gladiators and his sharp smile.

Caracalla was rougher than usual as he tugged you along. This time to his chambers. He kept looking over your shoulder and muttering to himself, yanking you closer and closer until you were almost tripping over each other. You were not overly alarmed; you had faith that you would be able to pacify him.

Your mind was preoccupied with your brief meeting with Macrinus. The emperors made you uneasy but it was nothing to do with the sickening feel Macrinus evoked in you.

Authors Note - This might be my favourite chapter yet idkkkk - please let me know what you think! Please like, comment, reblog if you enjoyed and don’t be afraid to send asks because they are my favourite thing

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[slaytheday12]

helloooo i have a request for youu

okay so walker scobell x reader where walker and the reader 'dated' when they were kids (like 11ish maybe?) but walker moved away, so they obviously stopped talking. then fast forward to now, he messages her on Instagram and at some point in the convo he says smth like "we never broke up" i hope this makes sense 😭

anyway i love youuu <33

We Never Broke Up

You and Walker had been inseparable as kids. From the moment you met at summer camp, there was an instant connection. At 11 years old, you didn’t know much about love, but whatever you had with Walker felt special. It was the kind of friendship where you’d pass notes, dare each other to do silly things, and sneak away from the group just to hang out under the stars. You’d even playfully called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, giggling at how grown-up it sounded.

But life had a way of pulling people apart. When camp ended, Walker moved across the country. You promised to stay in touch, but as time went on, the phone calls and texts became less frequent, and eventually, they stopped altogether.

Fast forward to now, and you were scrolling through Instagram, mindlessly tapping through stories. That’s when you saw him.

Walker Scobell.

You blinked, unsure if it was the same Walker you’d known all those years ago. But as you clicked on his profile, there was no doubt it was him. Except now, he was famous, starring in movies and making headlines. You hesitated for a moment before hitting the follow button, figuring there was no way he’d even notice.

To your surprise, he did.

The next day, a notification popped up: Walker Scobell has sent you a message.

Your heart raced as you opened it.

Walker: Wait... is this the same Y/N from camp? You: Depends. Are you the same Walker who screamed when we saw that raccoon by the cabins? Walker: 😭 Okay, fair, but yes. It’s me. Hi. You: Hi. Wow, it’s been forever. Walker: Yeah, like, what, 3 years? Maybe more?

The conversation flowed effortlessly. It was like no time had passed at all. You caught up on life how he got into acting, your own adventures, and everything in between. As the chat went on, the nostalgic warmth of your childhood friendship crept back in.

Then, out of nowhere, Walker dropped a bombshell.

Walker: You know... we never actually broke up. You: 😳 Walker: I mean, technically, right? We never said the words.

You laughed out loud, staring at the screen in disbelief.

You: Pretty sure moving across the country counts as a breakup, Walker. Walker: Nope. Doesn’t count unless someone says it. I’m just saying... we’re still technically dating. You: Oh, really? And what does that make us now? Walker: Long-distance couple reunited. 😌

You couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks heating up.

You: You’re ridiculous. Walker: Maybe. But I mean it. You were my first girlfriend, and I’m pretty sure I never stopped liking you.

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at his message, unsure of what to say. Before you could respond, another message popped up.

Walker: Sorry if that’s too much. I just... I saw your profile and couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You took a deep breath before typing your reply.

You: It’s not too much. Honestly, I’ve thought about you too. A lot.

From there, the conversation shifted into something deeper, filled with confessions and laughter as you both navigated this unexpected reunion. By the end of the night, one thing was clear: whatever spark had existed between you as kids hadn’t faded it had only grown stronger.

Walker wasn’t just someone from your past anymore. He was part of your present, and maybe, just maybe, your future too.

A/N: u know i had to do my queens one first this my o.g girl i love her with my whole heart

Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092

[decaffeinatedcandycane]

Continuation.... (stalkers!taskforce 141 x reader)

Incorrect quotes.... Let's goo!!!!

Warning: It does get NSFW

*loud arguing from inside the walls*

Y/N yelling from the couch: Can I get a waffle?

*silence*

Y/N: Can I please get a waffle?

*silence*

Y/N: That's what I though.... Suckers.

.................

Y/N: Helloooo

Ghost: It's 4am. Shut the fuck up or we are shutting down the WiFi.

*silence*

Ghost: Finally.

*le several minutes later*

Y/N leaning close to Ghost's ear: Herroooo

Ghost falling of the bed: Fucking 'ell!! It's illegal for you to be this QUIET!!!!

Soap rushing in the room: Simon wh- Y/N!!! How did you get in here? This fortress.. is impenetrable?

Y/N: Door was unlocked

Ghost: Son of a bitch

..............

Price: Okay kid.... I'm gonna put this bag over your head, now. Don't struggle.

Y/N: Why?

Price: So you don't see where we are taking you.

Y/N: is it.... somewhere....in my own house?

Price: Well-

Y/N: In the same house I constantly bust you in?

Price:

Y/N: This house?

Price, impatient: Yes, this house. Now, put this on.

Y/N: Can't.

Price, irritated: Why not.

Y/N, quietly: Tied up.

Price: Right.

Y/N: It's not gonna last you know.... It's not that big of a house. I will find you again.

Soap: Shouldn't WE say that.

Gaz: I feel threatened.

Ghost: We made renovations.

Price: Don't tell her that.

Y/N: So you made extra space.

Price: Maybe...

Y/N: ....And didn't fix the leaking roof.

*silence*

Soap chiming in: I dug holes under the house for the water.

Y/N: You did WHAT?!

Price: Shit. Don't trash around... My duck tape!!!

.........

Price fixing the holes from under the house: Kid, listen. I am sorry for my sergent.

Y/N: Man with your cake shouldn't call me "kid".

Price: My what?

Y/N: I have too many spicy thoughts to consider you a father figure.

Price: Not sure I want to understand that.

Y/N: I unfrathered you soon after our first meeting.

Price: Please, stop.

*silence*

*Price reaching toward his shirt*

Y/N: No, keep your shirt off.

Price:

Y/N: Yeah...Flex them muscles.

Price, frantically looking around: What? Where are you?

Y/N: Don't worry about it.

Price spotting a small camera: Did you put surveillance on us.

Y/N: Shhh.... Keep working bby girl. Do your thing.

Price: Don't call me that!

.......

Y/N: It's a crime I am being stalked but nothing more.

*silence*

Y/N: I said-

Ghost: We heard what you said. We can hear everything you are saying.

Y/N: So?

Ghost: What do you want more? Torture?

Y/N, mischievously: I will send you some clips.

Ghost: Our network is secured. You can't just-

*ding*

Ghost: Okay... Not happy about that.

*ding* *ding*

Ghost: I got it.

*ding* *ding* *ding* *ding*

Ghost: Captain!

Price: Yeah. I got it. Opening now.

Price: Oh my-

Ghost: We are NOT doing that!!!

Gaz: This is deranged.

Soap, stripping: Guess I will take one for the team.

Soap, yelling: Hey lass. If I do that, ya need to put on a helmet.

Price: Don't even think about it!

...........

Soap: It's a very quiet evening.

*silence*

Soap: I will fix the roof in the morning.

*silence*

Soap: Will you just talk to me?

*silence*

Soap, activating his puppy eyes: Your silence is killing me.

*silence*

Soap, angrily: Fine. Be like that. I don't care!

*from another room*

Ghost: Should we tell him, he is talking to a decoy doll for the past 20 minutes?

Price: Nah, let him be. Where is Y/N anyway?

Ghost: Shop? I think.

Price: You think?

Ghost: That's what I've heard.

Price, suspicious: Didn't Kyle say he was going shopping?

Ghost: Yeah.

Price:

Ghost:

Price: Fuck.

..........

*Gaz leisurely stretching on the couch*

Y/N: One down! Three more to go!

*on the other side of the house*

Ghost: Captain! The sergent is down.

Price: Shit. Y/N you will pay for this.

*Gaz laughing cause he can hear them through his ear piece*

Soap, stripping: I will avenge you.

Price: Mactavish! I said no!

...........

*in bed*

Y/N: Wasn't that bad, huh.

Price taking a deep drag from his cigar: Never said it was, doll.

Y/N, scrabbling something in a notebook and whispering: One more to go!

Price: Why one more?

Y/N: Mactavish ambushed me as soon as you feel asleep.

Price, laughing: God dammit.

Price wrapping his arms tightly around Y/N: Now we are never gonna leave... You know that, right? *planting a little kiss on Y/N forehead*

Y/N: I am counting on that.

.........

Y/N, dramatically: You are the last one left. Surrender.

Ghost, tryng not to laugh: Never.

Y/N: There is nowhere to go, Simon.

Ghost: You sure about that?

Y/N: Surrender! Or else.

Ghost: Alright. *drops pants*

Y/N: Shit- How? What do you eat?

Ghost, stretching his arms out: Come 'ere sweetheart.

Y/N, walking backwards toward the door: I think I forgot the bathroom oven opened.

Ghost, walking towards her: No, no. Come 'ere and take what you bargained for.

..........

That's it!

[airlock]

okay, so like, I dunno how this post's gotten as far as it did, without anyone mentioning that the actual reason why you all take "cannibalism is evil" as a given is that this is christian doctrine and was extensively wielded against natives in the americas, both ones who didn't and who actually did practice cannibalism. so it's embedded itself deeply in western culture just as the result of the frequency with which that rhetoric would come up to be used as such (and still does in this day and age)

like, yes, op's said many times that cannibalism was the example in that post and not the point, but this too is part of it. your baseline assumptions do not come out of the aether. it also matters to interrogate why it is that you thought the things you did too.

if nothing else, that part of the exercise should help you be more genuinely open-minded instead of being like "okay now I have to invent a reason why the thing I think is bad, is indeed bad"

(and before anyone comes at me with more of the prion disease stuff -- not my area of expertise, but enforcement of ostensibly sanitary practices is another huge vector of colonial violence against native cultures. so that's also not a discussion you'd be having on neutral ground.)

unrelated abaporu.

[luvluu]

Hello I hope you're having a good day I have a request for Chishiya, we visit him in the hospital after the whole Shibuya incident

Lillies… Shuntaro Chishiya

A/N: this is my first request and I’m so excited but scared omfg😭 so I hope you liked this because I rlly did! I feel like it has a lot of backstory but I hope you like it idk(I’m nervous ok?)

Please leave more request because they make me so happy idk why(love you all sm😭💕)

————

Shuntaro Chishiya x reader

Fluff❤️‍🩹

TW: insults.

WORDS: 900

REQUESTED: YES/NO

————

It had been months since you had a meal with your friends. You and Chishiya had been very busy lately agreeing on all the details of your wedding, which was to be held in December. Ever since you were very little, you had always dreamed of getting married at Christmas, with a white dress/suit to match the color of the surrounding snow.

Chishiya, on the other hand, had never had much interest in getting married, nor had he had much interest in love. His dreams were not related to having another person, but that changed when he met you. He knew how excited you were about getting married and although he had never thought about it, seeing himself together with you for the rest of your lives was something he didn't want to pass up.

It was during the spring festival. You and Chishiya went to a park, to a part a little out of the way of practically everyone. The pink petals were falling on your heads and you were looking around in delight, Chishiya knew that you always had a soft spot for that festival, you loved to see the city turn pink.

You were standing next to him, talking about how beautiful you found the scene when Chishiya knelt down in front of you and took a small box out of his pocket.

“Would you grant me the honor of spending the rest of my life with you?”

You were a tearful mess, not even bothering to try on the ring as you bent down and hugged him tighter than ever.

You were talking to one of your friends when a call came in. At first you didn't answer, it was probably the wedding ambassador asking for the seventh time in a week what kind of flowers you were going to want; but after persistence, you decided to answer.

“Are you the fiancée of Mr. Shuntaro Chishiya?” Someone asked behind the phone, you frowned quizzically.

“Yes, yes, it's me” you affirmed, moving a little away from your friends to speak more calmly.

“I'm calling from Tokyo hospital, your fiancé has been urgently admitted due to a meteorite that has affected the entire Shibuya neighborhood.”

No, it wasn't possible. You guys didn't even live near that neighborhood, what was Chishiya doing there, was he okay? Your mind clouded with negative thoughts. You weren't ready to lose the love of your life, no one was, but you... you just couldn't, not so few days before your wedding.

Without even saying anything to your group of friends, you got in your car and drove as fast as you could. The streets were in chaos. The road was full of cars, all on their way to the hospital while you could see smoke coming out of the Shibuya neighborhood.

It took you almost an hour to get to the hospital, an hour in which all you could think about was whether Chishiya was well. You were afraid that it was too late and that when you arrived you would be given the news that he had not held on long enough and had already died, but you refused to believe it.

You rushed into the hospital, more desperate than ever, and asked at the front desk about the room. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, you walked up seven floors and carefully opened the door.

Chishiya was in a shared room. There was a black-haired boy with half of his face covered lying on the bed next to Chishiya's. Your fiancé seemed relatively calm. He had that usual calm expression, as if he hadn't been on the verge of death.

“Shuntaro” you whispered with relief to see him safe and sound. “Shuntaro” you said now in a louder tone. Both men turned to look at you. You circled around another boy's bed until you reached Chishiya's and knelt beside the bed, hugging him tightly and shedding tears on his chest. “You scared me to death.” You felt his arms wrap around you and stroke your hair.

“You're overreacting...” he laughed lightly, you looked up to meet his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up...” you said, hugging him again. You clung to him as if he was the only thing that mattered to you. "What were you doing there? You asked in a broken voice, looking into his eyes, which were duller than normal.

“I think I want Lilies at our wedding...” he said, intertwining his hand with yours.

“You're an idiot.” You said and he wiped away your tears with his free hand. He moved to the side and you lay with him on the small hospital gurney.

Chishiya didn't remember why, but holding you in his arms again comforted him, as if he had been wanting to do it for months. He didn't remember, but if he won every game in Borderland he did it so he could go home to his fiancée.

“Chishi…” you whispered, feeling his hand stroking your hair.

“What?” He asked in a soft tone, keeping you as if you were made of glass.

“I love you.” He kissed you in the head as he heard your words.

“Love you more”

You couldn’t imagine a life without Chishiya, but he had to spend two months without even knowing if he would ever see you again. You would die without Chishiya, but he survived only because of you.

[sandwitchstories]

Onee-Chan

Well hello! Welcome back to yet another adventure in Mouse's Mini-verse! I missed writing this little family so much! Hope you enjoy the newest installment of fluff!

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 950+

Summary: Sukuna and Reader have some big news for Mouse. As to be expected, our favorite little pinkette has plenty to say.

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

CW: Pregnancy announcement, reader is called Mama but not described, Mouse is a mouthy little menace who is an absolute treasure. It is pure family fluff.

“Mouse,” you said gently, trying to get your daughter’s attention as she sat next to Sukuna. 

Her full focus was currently on stubbornly trying to shove food into her father’s belly mouth that he refused to open. You chuckled at their matching stubborn grimaces (tummy mouth included). 

“Yes, Mama?” Mouse asked, her tongue poked out the side of her lips in concentration and determination.

“Papa and I have something important to tell you.”

Sukuna snatched the berry out of her hand and tossed it into his mouth. He gestured towards you while he chewed. “Pay attention to your mother.”

“Fine…” she pouted, turning to look up at you, trying to be sly and grab another berry as she did. “I listening Mama.”

“Mouse,” you said, smiling and almost bubbling over with excitement. You couldn't wait for her reaction to the big news. “You're going to be a big sister!”

Mouse looked up at you with your husband's look of dismay on her face. “Huh?”

“You're going to be a big sister. Mama’s going to have another baby.”

Mouse scrunched up her face, grabbed another berry and met your gaze. With no hesitation she said, “No, please and thank you, Mama.”  And with that her little chubby little hand resumed her previous mission.

“There is no saying no to another baby,” you chuckled. “Mama already has another baby in her belly.”

Mouse turned quickly to Sukuna and asked in a loud whisper, “Mama ate a baby?” 

“No. Mama did not eat the baby,” Sukuna grinned, leaning forward to hover over his daughter so she had to turn her face up to look at him. “But I’m awfully hungry and I know a toddler that’s just about big enough to make dumplings out of.”

She grinned and giggled at him. “No eat me, Papa! Please and thank you, Papa!” 

“No one is eating anyone,” you sighed, rubbing the bridge of you nose. With a cannibal for a husband you should not have been surprised by your daughter’s question, nor how her father responded. 

“How’d baby get in there?” Mouse asked innocently. 

“That one is all you,” Sukuna said quickly.

You rolled your eyes at your husband. “Well, that’s where they grow. Mama and Papa made a wish and the universe made it come true.”

“Why you wish for a baby in you belly? I’d wish for dango in my belly,” Mouse answered, always thinking with her stomach. Just like her Papa. 

“Master Sukuna, I have brought afternoon tea,” Uraume said, entering the room and kneeling down with a tray.

“Urau-rau. You happy about the baby?” Mouse asked.

“I’ll hold out judgement until we see how well it behaves,” Uraume answered in typical Uraume fashion.

“No be worried, Urau-rau. I’ll teach it to be good like me!” Mouse said happily, reaching for one of the So cookies on the tray with the tea.

“That’s exactly what I am worried about,” Uraume muttered, pouring the tea.

Sukuna laughed and reached out a hand to ruffle Mouse’s hair. She looked up at him and gave him a big grin with crumbs all over her face. He wiped them off gently with his thumb. “You’ll be a great older sister, Mouse.”

“I know,” she smiled. She then shoved her half eaten cracker at his belly mouth and loudly said, “Now say ‘ahhhh’ Papa!”

Sukuna sighed, rolling his eyes. He moved a hand to link with yours and gave you a wink before lolling open his belly mouth and with it doing an exaggerated, “Ahhhhhh.”

Mouse laughed loudly as he ate the other half of the So from her hand and quickly grabbed another. “Again, please and thank you, Papa! Again!”

“You started it,” you laughed as he gave you a look of annoyance over the enthusiastic toddlers head.

“And I’m gonna finish it too,” he said loudly. He snatched Mouse up into his arms, flopping onto his back and holding her up in the air over him. 

Mouse let out a loud laugh, clutching the cookie in her hand as she dangled over her father. “Put me down, Papa! I gonna drop my So!”

He sighed and brought her down so she laid on his chest. She moved up to rest her head under his chin as she had done her whole life, sighing happily. With the cookie still clasped in her tiny hand she looked at you with eyes suddenly ready for a nap. “Papa?”

“Yes?” he asked, rubbing her back.

“Even with baby… I still be Papa’s girl?”

“You will always be Papa’s girl. Nothing and no one could ever change that. Foolish child,” he said with no bite to his words. He kissed the top of her head.

“Okay. Then we can keep baby.” she smiled. “I’ll be a big good sister. I promise.”

“You will be, Mouse,” you smiled, taking the cookie from her hand. Nothing put her to sleep faster than being in her father’s arms. It was a sight you loved to see. “You’ll be a great big sister. I just know it.”

“Papa?” Mouse said sleepily, reaching up a hand to play with his ear, a silly little thing she had done most of her life for comfort.

“Yes Mouse?” he asked, eyes closed, enjoying the peaceful serenity of this moment in time.

“You no eat the baby. Okay?”

He shook his head, and grinned. “I make no promises.”

You shook your head and laughed at the two of them. As you started to move away, Sukuna reached out a hand to grab your arm and pull you down to lay with him. The arm he wrapped around you settled protectively over your belly. You snuggled into him and closed your eyes, happiness filling every fiber of your being. To be loved by the King of Curses was truly a beautiful thing.