#promise i’ll get around to them eventually!

[dollyswishingwell]

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Anniversary gift

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ Suggestiveeeee, lots of fluff and simp men, 🧶 anon i used all your ideas :p let’s hope i did it justice, let’s not question who took the photos for reader lol

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ You give them a book of very spicy photos for your anniversary

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He’s seated cross-legged in the sun-drenched studio of your estate, purple hair tousled, shirt entirely unbuttoned. Blue-pink eyes are completely locked on the glossy little album you gave him.

He was quiet for a while.

Too quiet.

Then he flipped the page and let out a sound that could only be described as an emotionally-compromised whimper.

“Pearlie… what are you trying to do to me…”

Another page flip.

“You’re actually unreal, baby. This isn’t fair. I’m gonna have to fight a god for this level of beauty. I’ll duel the moon. I’ll—”

He presses the album flat on his chest and throws himself backward on the floor, groaning, curling around it like it’s sacred.

The first photo, you, in a cherry-red bikini, towel wrapped low on your hips, the string of your top cheekily untied and draped over one shoulder, hair tousled from ocean spray. There’s glittering salt on your collarbone. The light hits your skin so perfectly it looks airbrushed.

“This is art. You are art.”

“You knew what you were doing… you minx.”

The second photo, you in your bridal veil, no clothes but a sheer white cloth draped carefully around your chest and thighs, pearls in your hair, eyes all soft and sleepy. There’s a vintage hand mirror in your hand. It was his.

He gets emotional.

“My wife. My muse. My everything. You expect me to function after seeing this?”

The third photo, the tasteful nude. Just your bare back, wrapped in white fabric from the waist down, lounging against the satin sheets he brought back from the North Territory. Your hair’s loose. There’s a fresh bouquet behind you.

“You have one hour to explain why I can’t paint this right now.”

“Actually, No, I’m starting now. I need my brushes. Baby, I’ll cry if you don’t let me immortalize this.”

Rafayel becomes insatiable. He needs a new photo every week. No, every four days.

He makes a whole cabinet drawer in his art room just for them, lovingly labeled “The Pearlie Archive.”

He carries his favourite polaroid in his coat pocket.

If he has to go to a meeting, and someone annoys him too much? He’ll look it mid-conversation just to soothe himself.

Eventually, he even makes a rotating sculpture series based on the photos, each titled something stupid like “Wife in Moonlight No.3 (She Looked At Me After This One and I Died).”

And of course, every time you hand him a new photo with that bashful little smile?

He groans, presses his face into your neck, and says—

“You’re evil. A beautiful, perfect little devil, pearlie.”

“I’m gonna spend the next 17 hours painting your elbow.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ��꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The two of you return to your estate after a private anniversary dinner at Linkon’s most exclusive restaurant. He’s been looking at you all evening like you’re the only woman on earth, because to Zayne, you are.

You’re dressed in something elegant and white, your hair done exactly how he loves it, diamond earrings glinting when you lean in to murmur sweet things during dessert. He kissed your hand at the table. He fed you the last bite of your souffle. He looked genuinely weak when you smiled.

Now, back home, you lead him by the hand into the cozy sitting room, your heels already kicked off, makeup still perfect, and you sit him down on the plush velvet armchair. You pull out a small, gift-wrapped item from behind the bar cart. It’s square, not too thick, tied in a delicate ribbon.

He eyes it suspiciously, lips quirking slightly.

“Another gift, sweetheart?” he murmurs, hazel-green eyes sparkling. “Wasn’t dinner and your company more than enough?”

You smile innocently, cheeks warm.

“This one’s just for you. A private gift. Promise you won’t open it until I say so?”

He raises a brow. He’s intrigued.

“You’re starting to worry me, snowflake.”

Still, he obliges, sitting obediently with the album in his lap while you go behind him, slipping your arms over his shoulders.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Now.”

He unties the ribbon. Opens the first page.

And stops breathing.

⸻

First photo, you in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly pastel apron over one of his old dress shirts… buttoned only halfway. The hem flutters just below your thighs, leaving your legs completely bare. Your hands are flour-dusted, cheeks pink, and there’s whipped cream on your nose.

You’re bending slightly over the counter, sliding a tray of heart-shaped cookies into the oven with the most mischievous smile.

“Sweetheart… what… what is this…”

He flips the page.

Second photo, you licking icing off your finger, eyes wide and innocent, the bow of the apron tied low on your back, the skirt very short. Zayne’s name is scrawled in icing of the cake on the countertop beside you, surrounded by pink sugar hearts.

Third photo, you, from behind, balancing on your tiptoes to reach for a spice jar. The dress has ridden up. There’s no mistaking what’s not underneath. The caption under it reads in your handwriting:

“oops. no panties today, chef~”

He’s silent.

Dead silent.

His jaw’s locked. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, ears turning red.

You lean close to whisper innocently, “Do you like it?”

And Zayne, your brilliant, stoic, always composed husband, finally breathes out—

“I’m going to have a stroke.”

⸻

The album now lives in his locked desk drawer, where no one else will ever find it. Not even if the house were on fire.

But more importantly, you find yourself pinned between the kitchen counter and your blushing husband not even twenty minutes later, his tie long gone, your apron hanging off your shoulders,

“Was this all a plan, darling?”

“Did you intend to drive me mad tonight?”

He kisses you breathless, his hand cupping your cheek, the other sliding beneath the fabric with reverent slowness.

“Next year,” he murmurs, voice low and hot, “I want one in a nurse uniform. And the year after that? Surprise me.”

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

The evening had been perfect in that quiet, Xavier-esque way.

A soft dinner at home, lights dim, stars glittering through the penthouse windows. The table set with care, he’d even lit candles, though he tried to pretend he hadn’t planned that far ahead.

You’d cooked, and he sat beside you the whole time, sipping wine, brushing his fingers against yours between each course, looking like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the words.

He never needed them anyway.

Not with how he looked at you.

“You’re… beautiful, starlight,” he murmured as you curled into his lap on the sofa after dinner, blanket half-draped over your legs. “You always are. But tonight… I’m starting to believe you really were made to haunt me.”

You giggled, pressed a kiss to his jaw, and handed him a small, ribboned album from behind the couch cushion.

“Happy anniversary, Xavier. I wanted to give you something personal.”

He blinked, confused.

Took it delicately, like it was a sacred relic.

“A… book?”

“…Wait.”

He unties the ribbon. Opens to the first page.

And that’s when the nosebleed hits.

⸻

First photo, you in a sheer, pale lilac negligee that hugs your body like mist. Your thighs peek through delicate lace. The neckline drips low enough to give a suggestion of cleavage, hidden by a loosely tied robe. You’re sitting in his reading chair. One hand rests lightly on your collarbone. Your expression is soft. Sleepy. Dangerous.

Blood hits the page.

“X-Xavier?!”

“You’re bleeding!”

He slaps a hand over his nose, face completely red, eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Starlight what did you do.”

“You can’t—you can’t just give me this!”

⸻

Second photo, the robe is slipping off your shoulder now, revealing more of your bare skin, your stocking-clad thighs folded neatly beneath you as you recline on your side like a classic painting. The caption is handwritten:

“I imagined you’d like this one. I was thinking of you when I posed.”

Xavier collapses backward. Still holding the album upright like it’s the last thing tethering him to earth. He’s trying not to breathe too hard. His nose is still bleeding, too frozen to take the tissues you’re offering him.

“I’ve made contact with divinity,” he murmurs dramatically. “It’s her. She’s real. She’s my wife.”

⸻

Third photo, you, standing in front of the penthouse bedroom mirror. The robe is untied. Your back is to the camera, head turned over your shoulder. The light catches on your shoulder blades, your soft hips, the top of your thigh-highs.

Underneath it is another note:

“You can come find me now, if you want. The robe’s still on the floor.”

He gets up. So fast you hear the whoosh of air.

Absolutely frantic.

“Where is it. Where is the robe.”

You laugh, backing toward the bedroom.

He follows like a man possessed.

⸻

Later, after he’s finally calmed down and your poor bedsheets are a casualty of the nosebleed and the aftermath, he insists on making a velvet-lined case for the album.

He keeps it in a drawer near the bed.

Takes it out every few days just to sigh over it.

“You didn’t have to go so far,” he murmurs, tracing the page edges. “You could’ve given me a photo of you in sweatpants and I’d still cry.”

Then his voice drops to a whisper.

“But I am going to need another shoot… same robe… maybe no robe… just a suggestion.”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

You’d just come home from a week-long seaside villa getaway where Sylus spared no expense, private chef, marble infinity pool, silk robes delivered every morning, a whole fleet of bodyguards paid to “look the other way” when his hands wandered too far under dinner tables.

He was glowing with pride the entire trip.

“I’m a dangerous man, kitty,” he’d murmur as you swam up to him in the ocean, sunglasses perched on his silver hair. “But I’d give it all up to keep you soft like this. Tucked away. Spoiled rotten. Never needing to lift a finger except to choose which bikini to wear.”

He returned home relaxed, sun-warm, glowing from power and pleasure.

That is, until you handed him the velvet envelope.

“A little souvenir,” you said coyly, settling into the penthouse lounge with a yawn. “From me to you.”

He opened the album.

He paused.

Then he tilted his head.

Slowly. Like a predator smelling blood.

“…Kitten.”

⸻

First photo, you reclined across red silk sheets, wearing a see-through black chiffon robe that slips completely off your shoulders, revealing glitter-dusted thighs, sultry makeup, and the barrel of one of his gold-plated pistols perched lazily on your hip. A diamond necklace is looped between your teeth like candy.

Your eyes are half-lidded. The wedding band sparkles under the camera flash.

“Is that my pistol?” he murmurs, voice strangled.

“Did you take that from the vault?”

Second photo, you’re in the passenger seat of one of his vintage sports cars, door open, one leg outside, the other tucked provocatively on the leather seat. Your silk stockings are barely rolled up. The seatbelt’s undone. The caption below reads:

“ready for a ride, baby?”

He flips the page and laughs.

A dangerous, breathless kind of laugh.

The kind that says you’re not getting out of bed for three days.

“This is evil.”

Third photo, you, laying sideways across the hood of the car, fully naked except for stilettos and a diamond anklet, one of his revolvers laid carefully across your bare stomach.

⸻

He flips back. Again.

And again.

Then he gets up. Walks directly to the foyer. Takes his wallet from the marble console.

Silently, carefully, slides his favorite photo, the red silk sheet one, into the inside flap.

“You are truly born to torture me.”

⸻

You spot him flipping through the album again later, standing shirtless by the balcony with a cigar in his mouth, laughing under his breath.

“I knew you were perfect, kitten,” he drawls. “But this, this is perversely delightful.”

He tosses the cigar into the ashtray. Stalks over to you, scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing.

“Give me another shoot. In my office next time. I want a shot of you splayed across the desk.”

He grins.

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

You had a second honeymoon at the tropical resort, It was perfect.

Private beach. Ocean-view suite. Room service for every meal because you “didn’t feel like leaving bed” and Caleb had no problem with that. He spent most of the week either kissing saltwater off your shoulders or carrying you around like his pretty little prize.

“You really gonna let me have you all to myself like this again, pips?”

“No comms. No Fleet. Just my pretty wife lookin’ like paradise.”

Now, back home, sun-kissed and still a little sand-dusted, you hand him a neatly wrapped album as you’re snuggled on the couch, legs over his lap, wearing his oversized academy flight jacket.

He’s already smiling like a golden retriever with a brand new bone.

But the moment he opens the album?

Full body combustion. (He didn’t blow up again, don’t worry)

⸻

First photo, you, provocatively leaning over his fighter jet, hips arched, wearing a custom, skimpy version of his old pilot jumpsuit. The front is unzipped nearly all the way down, teasing a scandalous glimpse of your favorite lacy bra underneath, his favorite color. His name tag is pinned to your chest.

You’re wearing his flight jacket over your shoulders.

Hair tousled. Lipstick smudged.

The note underneath says:

“Reporting for duty, Colonel.”

“BABY.”

He literally shouts. Slaps the photo against his chest. “How will i ever step foot into that jet again without thinking of you?!”

Second photo, you inside the cockpit, half-in, half-out, glancing over your shoulder, lips parted, legs bent, the jumpsuit riding way too high. Helmet beside you, glove between your teeth.

He clutches his chest. Falls back onto the couch. Groaning.

“That’s my cockpit,” he moans dramatically. “You’ve defiled military equipment, and I have never been prouder in my life.”

Third photo, domestic theme. You in a retro gingham dress, pearls and red lipstick, holding a woven basket full of apples. You’re on a ladder, picking fruit, skirt accidentally hitched way too high, revealing sweet white thigh-highs and the hem of lace panties. The sun flares behind you like a lens filter from heaven.

Underneath, in your own handwriting:

“Almost fell off the ladder. Hope it was worth it”

“Oh my GOD,” he whines, flipping back and forth between pages. “Every photo is my favorite. I need one a week. No, twice a week. Actually, start filming them too.”

He grabs your face, squishes your cheeks, eyes sparkling like he just won the universe.

“Next time you wear that jumpsuit, you’re not taking it off. I wanna peel it off myself.”

You tease, “So you liked it?”

He growls.

“Pips, If you weren’t already my wife, I’d marry you all over again for this. I’d drop to my knees right now. I’d burn the Fleet down to make sure i never have to leave your side.”

He tucks the album into his duffel bag. That bag goes everywhere.

He literally calls it his emotional support photo album.

If he’s gone on deployment, he’s flipping through it in the captain’s quarters, smiling like a lunatic.

“God, my wife’s such a bombshell.”

And yes, he starts commissioning a video next.

Wants voiceover. Wants to hear your giggles in the background. Wants you whispering “I miss you, Colonel” while lying on his jet wearing nothing but the flight jacket.

[levigarden999]

Maybe what if reader breaks up with Kaiser because he’s too selfish while he already bought the ring for them to pop the question? Can be angsty/fluff at the end?

different perspectives 𓍯 michael kaiser x reader

⋆.˚ notes : inspired by the req above , thank u anon ♡

you knew this day would come eventually when you’d have the hardest, most gut wrenching talk with your boyfriend kaiser. you had prepared for this discussion for a few weeks now, but it didn’t make it any easier. but it seemed like that breaking up was simply the best option available.

of course, it wasn’t a surprise to you that kaiser was a self centered bastard, literally. soccer was his whole life and he always made it clear to everyone how damn skilled he was. you were fine with his bragging and arrogant attitude, and somehow it was even a part of his charm. but what you weren’t okay with was his selfishness.

you would’ve never guessed how selfish the guy could actually get, even towards the woman he claimed so dearly to love.

the fact he always promised you more support, how he would be there for you more in the future and that he’d make more time for your relationship. the fact he promised to take you out more often and do those small things couples do that make you feel validated. however, all those promises were broken. straight up lies.

kaiser returned from practice that evening, hair slightly damp from sweat and the compress shirt clinging to his form, revealing the tattoo on his neck so beautifully. however, you didn’t even glance at him as he arrived home. in fact, you were already in tears.

”i’m home, baby” he started, the usual cocky and somehow cheerful tone in his voice as he slipped his shoes off.

”michael, we need to talk” you answered immediately. kaiser probably noticed the firmness in your tone because he obediently walked over to you in the living room, a confused tone in his voice as he spoke.

”yeah? what’s up?”

you turned to look at him from the couch, revealing your tear stained cheeks and trembling lips to him. the sight surprised him totally – kaiser’s eyes visibly widened at the sight of you so miserable. as if you hadn’t been suffering for the last few years with him.

”i-i’m so tired, mike… i… i can’t do this anymore” you whimpered, voice choked.

he blinked, not understanding your words.

”you can’t do what anymore?” kaiser asked, but you knew he knew what you talked about. the fear was evident in his tone.

”you know what. i… i’ve talked about our problems and… you never change. i’m tired. i don’t… want to be with you anymore” you continued sobbing and hiccuping, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks again.

at that, kaiser’s face twisted into something more emotional. there was confusion, even hurt, in his face as those blue eyes pierced through you.

”what about me? what about what i want?”

you scoffed and shook your head.

”that’s exactly what i mean. it’s always about you, isn’t it? always about what you want and what you need and what you require!” you suddenly snapped, the obvious frustrating booming through the room like an echo of misery.

kaiser fell silent. you could tell he felt like his voice was gone. for once in his life, he was goddamn speechless.

you huffed and stood up from the couch. you needed some alone time. the silence between you was too painful for you to handle right now.

”i’ll go take a walk” you mumbled, absent mindedly walking past him to the front door where he had left his duffel bag and… apparently something else as well?

”n-no, wait!” kaiser suddenly exclaimed, but it was too late.

you noticed yourself staring at a tiny shopping bag, which had a text in the front.

cartier . wedding selection

it took you a moment to understand what was going on. your mind couldn’t wrap itself around the fact what the small bag actually contained.

”… what is that” you whispered shakily, the words nearly getting stuck in your throat. you couldn’t even look at kaiser right now, not right now when you two clearly shared a different perspective over your relationship.

kaiser remained silent for a few seconds before he spoke, voice more pathetic and vulnerable than you’ve ever heard before.

”for you. obviously” he managed to utter out.

you then turned your head to him, needing more information. his eyes were on the floor, a few strands of blue hair hanging over his forehead. he looked so young, so vulnerable and troubled.

”i- i’ve thought about it for months now and… i bought it today. a ring for you” he continued. as you finally realized the gravity of the situation, your throat tightened even more and it felt like you would be sucked into the very core of earth at any second.

kaiser scratched his neck nervously, still not looking at you.

”i was thinking about proposing…. during our trip to italy next month”

trip to italy? since when were you going to italy?

”i-i remembered you mentioning how you want to spend more time with me and… i already bought plane tickets to venice for us. i… i remembered you telling me how much you adore water as an element and… well, there’s a, uh, river, so, i thought that proposing on a boat there would be perfect-”

”michael” you said.

he stopped rambling, those blue eyes finally meeting yours. you had never seen him looking at you with such eyes before. the deep blue was now lighter, the look in his eyes now so distant yet craving and needing. you saw his adam’s apple bob, a lump going down his throat.

”i’m not… you don’t have to take me to venice to be a better boyfriend. you don’t have to buy me a wedding ring to prove yourself to me” you sighed, the gentle words leaving your mouth without much else thought. your voice was still trembling.

you took a step closer to him, your eyes matching the vulnerability in his as well.

kaiser avoided your eye contact again as he shifted uncomfortably.

”but… you mentioned you wanted to spend more time with me. to have more dates, more romance from me” he muttered. it was almost unbelievable seeing his usually very arrogant and straight up annoying attitude gone.

you couldn’t help but soften from the inside.

”no. i asked for more support. i asked for your physical presence and… emotional presence as well. i don’t need vacations or rings, michael. i simply want to trust you again, i want to trust michael kaiser – i do not want some infuriating soccer star” you noticed a hint of a teasing undertone creeping into your words. kaiser fixed his gaze back to you, he was nearly pouting.

kaiser simply nodded, a pale hand reaching out and touching your cheek gently. it seemed like the first time ever he actually listened and understood what you had to say. you melted a little into his touch, since the moment felt so intimate and meaningful, which was something you hadn’t experienced in a while with him. he looked at you like he understood you, touched you like he actually didn’t want to lose you.

”okay” kaiser said, quietly.

”okay?” you raised an eyebrow, words just as quiet.

”okay. i’ll do it. i’ll prioritize you”

you blinked.

”i want to say you’re my wife. i want to marry you, i want to see the diamond ring on your finger and be reminded of the fact you want to spend the rest of your life with me just as much i want to spend it with you” he continued, a small smile appearing on his lips. the moment felt silent and peaceful, even though your heart was hammering against your ribs.

you couldn’t help but smile.

he then chuckled. ”and i know, the ring can wait though. but i’ll make sure you’ll say yes when i propose you some time in the future”

both of his hands landed on your cheeks and he leaned in closer. kaiser’s face softened even though his voice took a more serious tone.

”i promise. when i propose, you’ll say yes in the happiest, most confident way imaginable”

[choco-munchkin]

— i found you

wumuti (xlov) | male reader

warnings: reader has a panic attack, shy reader, established relationship

The sky was soft with twilight, a velvet blue draping itself over Seoul’s skyline. After the fanmeeting, the members of XLOV were given a rare gift: a few hours of freedom. No cameras. No stylists. No tight schedule breathing down their necks.

They split up naturally—Rui wanted to check out the latest pop-up café, Haru made a beeline for the nearest claw machine arcade, and Hyun slipped in his earphones and wandered down a quiet alley of bookstores. Wumuti lingered behind, his fingers nervously tugging at his hoodie strings.

He wasn’t sure why, but his chest had felt heavy all day. Like something was about to go wrong.

Maybe it was just the exhaustion. Or maybe… it was (y/n).

He hadn’t seen (y/n) in almost a week. Their messages had been short, scattered. Time zones and busy schedules made things difficult—but this felt different. There was something in the last message (y/n) sent that haunted him.

“Sorry I didn’t reply earlier. Things have been… a bit much today. I’ll talk to you soon. I promise.”

That was over 36 hours ago.

Wumuti tugged his hood over his head and pulled up his mask. His feet moved faster than he realized, heart thudding as he weaved through streets he used to know like the back of his hand—before idol life swallowed all his free time. He didn’t even know where he was heading until he was already standing in front of the small park near the university. The same park (y/n) often went to when overwhelmed.

And there—curled up near a bench, hoodie sleeves pulled over trembling hands—was (y/n).

Wumuti froze.

(y/n) looked like he was trying to disappear. His head was bowed, shoulders hunched, breath coming in sharp, stuttering gasps. His knuckles were white where they clutched the hem of his sleeves, and his legs had pulled up onto the bench like a shield.

“(y/n)?” Wumuti’s voice cracked.

(y/n) flinched violently.

“(y/n)—hey, hey, it’s me,” Wumuti said quickly, stepping forward and crouching in front of him. He pulled down his mask and gently touched (y/n)’s knee. “It’s just me. It’s Wumuti.”

Green eyes snapped up, wide and glassy. There was panic there—pure, suffocating panic—and the second he recognized Wumuti, he broke.

“I—” (y/n) gasped, trying to speak, but nothing coherent came out. His chest rose and fell like he was drowning on dry land.

“Shhh, no, no, don’t talk yet,” Wumuti whispered, voice gentle and firm. “I’m here. I’m here, love. You’re okay. Just breathe with me, okay? In…”

Wumuti exaggerated a deep inhale, slow and steady.

“…and out…”

He reached up and lightly cupped (y/n)’s face, thumbs stroking his cheeks as he guided him through the rhythm. In and out. In and out. One of (y/n)’s hands reached for him blindly, clinging to Wumuti’s jacket like a lifeline.

“I—I couldn’t—I couldn’t—” (y/n) hiccuped out eventually, still shaking. “There were so many people, and I got turned around, and my phone died and I couldn’t— I couldn’t call anyone, and I didn’t know where I was—”

“I know. I know. You were scared,” Wumuti whispered, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead. “You don’t have to explain more, baby. I’ve got you now.”

(y/n) nodded wordlessly, tears finally spilling over. He tried to wipe them away, embarrassed, but Wumuti caught his hand mid-motion and kissed his knuckles.

“Don’t. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He climbed onto the bench beside him and wrapped his arms around (y/n), pulling him flush against his chest. (y/n) melted into him, like he had been holding himself up for hours and could finally collapse.

“I thought I was getting better,” (y/n) mumbled, voice muffled into Wumuti’s chest. “But today—everything just snapped.”

Wumuti rested his chin atop (y/n)’s head, his heart aching. “Getting better doesn’t mean never struggling again. It means learning how to get through it. And you did. You came here. You stayed safe. And now I’m here.”

There was a long pause.

“…You found me,” (y/n) whispered.

“Always,” Wumuti said softly, tightening his grip. “Always.”

They sat there in silence for a long while, just the two of them surrounded by the hush of the city. When the tears dried and (y/n)’s breathing evened out, Wumuti gently rubbed circles on his back.

“You wanna go somewhere quiet? I can take you back to the dorm, or we can go to the little café you like—the one with the terrible chairs and the good brownies.”

(y/n) gave a small, watery laugh. “You remembered.”

“I remember everything about you.”

“…Dorm, please,” (y/n) whispered. “If the others don’t mind.”

“They’ll be thrilled,” Wumuti said with a soft smile. “They’ve missed you.”

He stood and offered his hand. (y/n) took it.

And as they walked through the quiet streets, fingers laced together and the night air cool on their skin, Wumuti stayed just half a step closer than usual—just in case (y/n) needed to be caught again.

Wumuti swiped the passcode into the dorm door and pushed it open carefully, as if afraid any sound might startle (y/n) again.

Inside, the lights were low—just the kitchen light left on. There was the faint smell of takeout, and a quiet stream of conversation coming from the living room.

“Wumuti?” Rui’s voice drifted over. “That you? Did you find—”

He stepped into view and froze mid-sentence.

“…(y/n)?”

(y/n) instinctively tensed behind Wumuti, body going stiff with the self-conscious panic of someone who had been crying recently and didn’t want to be seen. Wumuti glanced back at him and gave his hand a little squeeze.

“It’s okay. They’re family.”

(y/n) nodded faintly.

Rui moved first, rising from the couch with a quiet kind of surprise, like he hadn’t dared hope it would actually be him at the door. “You’re really here,” he breathed, eyes scanning (y/n)’s face. “You okay?”

“He had a panic attack,” Wumuti explained softly. “I found him near the uni park. It was bad. He’s okay now, but… I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Rui’s expression immediately gentled. “Of course not. Come in, come sit. Do you want water? Tea? Something sweet?”

Before (y/n) could answer, thump thump thump—

“HARU,” Rui muttered too late.

Haru skidded into the hallway in mismatched socks, blinking. “(y/n)?!”

(y/n) flinched at the volume, and Wumuti shot Haru a look that made the younger boy slap a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Sorry,” Haru said quickly, tiptoeing closer. “Hi. I didn’t know you were coming. I missed you.”

(y/n) offered a shy, soft “Hi,” his voice still hoarse.

Haru hovered awkwardly, unsure if a hug was okay.

Wumuti leaned down toward (y/n). “You want hugs or space?”

(y/n) glanced up at Haru, saw his eyes shining with open affection, and gave the smallest nod.

Haru squeaked in delight and gently wrapped his arms around (y/n), careful and warm, like hugging a cat who might bolt. “You smell like Wumuti,” he whispered. “That’s comforting.”

“I wonder why,” Wumuti murmured dryly, pulling (y/n)’s hood off gently so he didn’t overheat. “Hyun?”

Hyun had been silent, leaning against the kitchen doorway. His expression was unreadable, arms folded, but his eyes hadn’t left (y/n) once.

When (y/n) finally met his gaze, Hyun stepped forward.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just reached out and carefully fixed the sleeve (y/n) had been fidgeting with—folding it neatly, a small gesture of grounding.

Then, in a low voice, he said, “Glad you’re okay.”

(y/n) swallowed. “Thanks.”

“You can stay as long as you need.”

Wumuti smiled quietly. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t demand answers. They just made space.

“Come on,” Rui said, nudging the others toward the kitchen. “Let’s heat up leftovers.”

“Dibs on the dumplings!” Haru shouted.

“No, I—!”

Their voices trailed off as they moved away, giving the couple space.

(y/n) stood in the hallway, overwhelmed—but in a different way now. His heart was full and aching. He hadn’t realized how much he missed them. How much this place had begun to feel like home.

“You okay?” Wumuti asked quietly.

“I think so,” (y/n) whispered. “Better now.”

Wumuti kissed his forehead. “Good. You can stay the night. Hell, stay the week. I’ll make the others sleep in the bathtub if I have to.”

(y/n) snorted. “That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“Worth it.”

And with that, Wumuti led him into the cozy warmth of the dorm, where leftovers waited and gentle laughter filled the air—where no one asked him to be anything other than (y/n). And that was enough.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 25 - Legend

@wolfstarmicrofic June 25, word count 396

Previous part First part

Sir Sirius eventually brought his horse back to a gentle walk, much to Remus’s relief. Remus loosened his grip on Sir Sirius’s waist and sat up straighter. 

“Still hanging on back there?” Sir Sirius barked out a laugh. Remus pulled faces at the back of his head and squeezed his arms tight around Sir Sirius’s sides for a second, smirking when the knight gasped. “There’s a village a few miles up ahead that we’ll stop the night in. Apparently, there's a rather good lodge with a cook who knows what they’re doing, so we’ll rent a room and set off again in the morning.” Remus froze. There was only one village nearby in this direction. 

“I can’t go in there,” he whispered, unable to speak louder, but Sir Sirius heard him anyway. 

“Why not?” Remus shook his head. If he told him, Sir Sirius was sure to throw him off his horse and leave him in the forest. “Tell me,” Sir Sirius said in a gentle voice. 

“Three years ago, I was framed for murder, and it was either leave or get acquainted with the hangman’s noose.” Sir Sirius pulled his horse up suddenly, nearly unseating Remus and turned as far around to face Remus as he possibly could. 

“Swear to me, you didn’t do it!” He ordered in such a strict tone that Remus couldn’t have denied him if he wanted to. 

“I swear,” he promised. “There was a trader. It was him, but he made it look like I did it. He hid evidence in my house and where I worked. I never had a chance. I couldn’t prove a thing,” Sir Sirius’s face softened, and he turned back around, gently kicking his horse on.

“You’ll be safe as long as you’re with me. No one would dare arrest a squire of mine without my consent.”

“Why are you some kind of legend or something?” Remus scoffed because he knew the people he’d once considered neighbours and friends would cart him off the second he stepped foot in the village again, fancy knight or not.

“Something like that,” Sir Sirius barked his odd laugh again. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” and oddly, Remus felt reassured. He’d like to see his parents again, just once. 

Sir Sirius’s horse took them straight through the village to the lodge, the villagers' whispers following them the entire way. 

Next part

[yandere-sins]

The Octopodes' Tale - Chapter X (Season Finale)

Last chapter for this year!

Thank you all for participating and all your sweet comments, I had lots of fun with Leomaris and I can't wait to introduce you all to his mate and for you to guys to hang out with both of them ♥

Make sure to vote on this last poll to influence what is going to happen next year and thank you for joining on this journey! ^-^

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Octopus Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Words: ~5.5k  Warnings: Yandere, Monsters (Tentacels, Oversized Mention, Mermaids, Monster Appearances, Sharp Teeth, Claws), Minor Sexual Content (Discussion of Procreation, Mention of Penis), Fear of potential harm, Mention of Death, Guns and Shooting Mention, Feral Creature Approaching, Cliffhanger, Long Post

“You’re squeezing me very hard.”

Your words finally made Leo relent some of the strength he was using to hug you, pulling away and freeing up the space for your lungs to extend fully, filling with the air you desperately needed. You wasted no time before pushing him away far enough to reach down into your pant pocket, slipping beneath tentacles wrapped around your waist to get to the knife.

Fumbling a little since the tentacles wouldn’t yield to your movements, only sticking tighter to your body, you needed a moment to procure the item but eventually held it up victoriously between you and Leo. You hesitated for a moment, feeling the cool object in your hand. It was like your whole safety rested within the knife, and giving it to Leo felt equally as wrong as you felt obligated to. He was dangerous enough; he didn’t really need a weapon to make him even more deadly. 

“I want you to have this,” you announced, lowering your voice just in case someone could overhear and holding the sheathed knife towards him.

Lifting his hand, Leo pinned the knife between two of his claws, allowing it to slip into his palm. The size difference was laughable, but you kept a serious face as he looked between you and the knife. “What is it?” he asked, justifiably, and you opened your mouth to explain but then closed it again and leaned forward, deciding to show him instead. Prying the blade from its sheath, the metal glimmered in the sterile light of the enclosure, and Leo’s brows furrowed before his eyes lit up. 

“Is that a knife?” he asked, immediately holding his hand before his mouth to sparsely hide the grin. “That’s as big as they get for you humans?”

“Leo!” you chastised unseriously. “Don’t make fun of it!”

Regardless of your orders, Leo still snorted as he let the knife dangle back and forth between two claws, and you gave his shoulder a playful bump. “Focus,” you said sternly, and Leo took the knife back into his palm, barely able to hold it without the blade vanishing in his hand. 

“I know this is hard for you,” you whispered, the mood shifting back to serious as you closed your hands around his as best as possible. “I know these precautions Straci made are important, and they have served you well. So, I want you to be able to take them off yourself before I do. I want you to have this choice so that no one, not even I, can take it from you.”

Leo watched you pointedly as you spoke, perhaps still trying to find a lie in your sincerity that would tell him you were up to no good. But beneath your hands, you felt his fist tightening, showing he understood. The choice was his before it was anyone else’s. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, looking down at your hands clasped around his, the knife poking out of the gap between his fingers. You nodded, assured that he would think about it by the sincerity in his voice.

“Alright,” you mumbled, finally stepping out of the tentacles and steadying yourself without Leo’s help. “I’ll be quick,” you promised, giving him a small smile. Turning around, you wanted to start walking in the direction of your apartment when you noticed a last stray tentacle clinging to your ankle. You raised your eyes again to Leo’s, looking at him expectantly to remove his limb when he did something unexpected. 

Two red tentacles lifted out of the water and over his head. They curled into themselves, reaching to hold on to each other’s tip, completing the transformation. You watched as their colors changed from a lighter, pinkish hue to a vivid red repeatedly, almost resembling a heart beating. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you couldn’t contain the extra beats your own heart made as Leo grinned ear to ear, having done something excitedly to showcase you, and you felt strangely accomplished to have taught him something, even if it was such a simplistic gesture. Leo was a siren, not really understanding what it could mean to show someone a heart like that, and yet, it was cute and inventive, exactly like he was. 

What were you thinking? 

Clapping your hands, Leo seemed pleased with himself as you recognized his effort, pushing out his chest as the tentacles unfurled, sliding back into the water. Seeing him with such a prideful stance reminded you of what he really was, a proud hunter of the sea, a good mate, and a kind soul who had never hurt you intentionally. Seeing him as a monster all the time was the same as condemning other marine life that humans had dubbed scary, like sharks and orcas. You loved researching new creatures when you started exploring this field; this was no different than in your past. And if you thought Leo was cute, then maybe… that was okay. 

A cute octopus, that’s what he was.

Chuckling to yourself, you finally decided to leave him and get yourself ready for the visit. Once this plan was set into motion, you’d have very little time for self-care and relaxation, so you wanted to use these last few moments to clear your head and do something good for your body. The way over to the self-opening door felt like an incredibly long walk, and you looked back at Leo, who was watching you leave from the surface of the pool. 

You had to believe that this was all going to work out and you two could escape. That you’d stick to the plan and make the progress you wanted. Nothing else could be on your mind than your success, your doubts and fears not needed when you weren’t alone in this battle.

Together, you could do it!

Once you were inside and the door had closed behind you, you let out a deep breath, pushing off the partially wet clothes clinging to your body. It had been a while since you last had a moment to yourself, the silence almost stifling. Your eyes fell to a small mirror on top of the dresser, and you noticed something strange on your skin. You were littered with little, bruise-like marks, much like those you had seen on Leo when his tentacles attached to himself. Realizing that it was because of his tentacles’ suction cups, you scoffed, watching how they had left sometimes bigger, sometimes smaller marks. Some even overlapped with each other, and you couldn’t help but see more hearts in them, making you shake your head. Now you were seeing hearts everywhere, great. 

Unperturbed, you continued towards the small bath, turning on the shower and waiting for it to warm up before stepping under. Compared to Leo’s pool or the entire climate in the enclosure, it felt good to have warm water caress your skin for once, washing away grime and dirt, as well as some of your worries. You enjoyed the feeling of cleanliness for as long as possible, but time was running out, hurrying you the second you stepped out of the shower to get dressed and ready quickly as your appointment approached. 

With your body tense and your smile forced, you stepped outside the apartment just in time for the Professor’s arrival, the mechanical door beeping and swishing open as he entered. Immediately, he raised his hands in the air, his smile spreading from ear to ear like that of an excited child who had been given a new toy, and you tried not to look at the people following, including researchers and guards alike. Everyone was here to be told about your notable findings, a fact you made sure to mention when you invited the Professor for a meeting. After all, if you could prolong the lives of the sirens and also increase their numbers, that would be highly beneficial for the facility. 

“Let’s see what you’ve found!” the Professor prompted, making his way over the pool to get to you, and you nodded firmly before turning towards Leo, who was hovering in the water. “Ready?” you asked him, the unwillingness written on his face as he lowered his gaze. 

“Guess so,” Leo bubbled back, knowing what awaited him. You really wished you could have spared him the discomfort, but you both knew it was what you had to do. Giving his head a brief pat, Leo climbed out of the water behind you as you made your way toward the buttons on the wall that activated the machine. You had yet to find out if or if not Leo had disposed of the bindings around his third arm, but at this point, the show had to go on, no matter what had been before this. You two simply needed to trust in each other and rely on that. 

Pushing the ‘catch’ button, you took a step back as you watched the machine appear from the ceiling, slowly lowering itself down to find the specimen it was supposed to hold. Thanks to Leo’s cooperation, it didn’t take long for the metal shackles to snap forward, all of his limbs being caught one by one and squeezed to the point it made you feel choked up to see him like this. 

The crowd had taken their own spot in front of the research station, a few gasps and whispers going through the rows as they watched the merman being lifted off the ground. Leo remained as calm as possible, but he couldn’t help but flinch when his third arm, too, was grabbed, the exposed tentacle a never-before-seen sight by the other researchers—or you. 

Quickly, you input the command to release this tentacle, and you watched the twitching in Leo’s abdomen as the metal slid off. Neither of these interactions was comfortable for a pent-up male like he was, and yet, you were glad he trusted you. That he did what had to be done despite the discomfort. Leo did it for the plan, and you were relieved to see his understanding of the situation you two were in. 

“Today, I would like to talk about the reproduction of male octopod sirens,” you announced, pointing at Leo while closing the distance and inviting the other people in. “Please step closer.”

You didn’t need to ask twice as people flocked around you. Much to your dismay, the guards weren’t as easily distracted by such a fantastic specimen, instead raising their guns at him and making your heart race with their threat. Your hand was shaking, but you willed it to be still, approaching Leo’s third arm with your breath held inside your lungs. Glancing upwards, you caught his eyes on you—and only you—watching every one of your movements and what you were going to do next. It was the only comfort you had. To know Leo was by your side, going through this with you, even though it was probably much worse for him than for you. 

Reaching out for his tentacle, it lifted towards you, guns behind your back cocking as it moved, and you shot the guards a glare while the tip of it laid itself into your palm. “This creature is not dangerous!” you announced loudly, but the guards didn’t even flinch. “I would appreciate it if you could stand down and simply watch as we analyze its reproductive system.”

This time, it was the Professor who raised his hand briefly, giving a small nod to the leader of the group. Finally, the guns were lowered to the ground, taking some of the tension out of your body with them. Inhaling deeply, you knew your time to shine had finally begun, and you very gently took the limb in both of your hands, showing it to the audience. 

“As you can see, the hectocotylus is similar to that found on normal octopus, which lets us assume that the sperm delivery to a female works the same way as it would from what we know.” 

Above you, Leo shivered as your hand ran down the inside of the tentacle, your fingers prying gently at the flap that was hiding the groove where octopuses usually transferred their semen packages through. You let everyone see what had been hidden for so long, the perfect replica of an octopus reproduction system—just ten times as big. Even you felt the excitement and curiosity that came from exploring something no one ever had before, your gloved finger sliding through the groove and all the way to the tip, having not even a smear of grime or residue on them, which you were more than happy about. 

Had you found out that Leo’s tentacle had withered and died while being bound, perhaps infected or otherwise wounded, it would not have looked good for you. The facility would have done who-knows-what to either keep him alive, pumping him full of meds that would mean he’d be too out of it for the eventual escape, or dispose of him to not risk any of his sickness spreading to other species here. But no, he was healthy and capable, just like you needed him to be, even though it made the heat flush into your head, realizing you were talking about a thing that was basically his cock. 

It would have also been a problem if there had been sperm packages, meaning it was already too late for him. 

Leo’s tentacle jerked as you displayed the ligula—the tip—to the researchers, showing the end of the transfer groove that would bring his seed to a female of his kind. It was eerily similar to octopuses, and yet, it raised the question of how a female siren would receive the sperm if she shared similar looks with Leo, missing the mantle that held all their organs due to their human looks. 

“In short,” you concluded your presentation. “We can be pretty certain about the reproduction of sirens of Leo’s kind, although we have yet to learn about the inner mechanism of his body and how it works compared to his animal counterpart. My suggestion is finding a solution to keep this specific tentacle unable to reproduce to preserve this species until we have made further discoveries.”

Most of the researchers nodded in agreement while others clapped for the presentation, and you forced a smile before gently letting down Leo’s third arm, giving it a gentle pat higher up on the tentacle and shooting Leo a more sincere smile. He whimpered as your hand touched the upper part of the tentacle before his head suddenly fell back, eyes rolling upwards.

“Leo?” you called out, panic rushing through you as he didn’t respond.

“Leo!” you yelled, running over to the console, controlling the machine, and slamming the emergency release button. Lifelessly, his body crashed to the ground, his weight making it impossible to land softly while some of the researchers gasped and squealed. You heeded them no mind as you rushed back to his side, pushing away his tentacles to get to his head and pulling it on your lap. 

“Leo!” you mumbled, patting his cheeks, the coloration of his body so pale in comparison to his usual, but you hadn’t noticed it changing at all. The worst-case scenario had come true: you had made a mistake. Did you accidentally trigger his mating reflex? Did you not notice him choking? Had he fainted from stress? 

“Damn it!” you cursed out loud, tears shooting into your eyes. This wasn’t how this would end, right? The fragile yet budding friendship the two of you had, your first and perhaps last experience with the sirens, Leo’s whole damn life. 

“Come on, don’t leave me hanging!”

“That’s enough,” a calm voice said behind you, a strong, familiar hand landing on your shoulder. But this time, you shrugged it off, not wanting to part from Leo yet. However, this decision was taken from you as two strong arms hooked under your pits and pulled you up and away, Leo’s head flopping to the ground so terribly still. 

“No!” you screamed as the guards dragged you away, and you tried to keep looking at Leo as the Professor stepped into your view. Only when he grabbed both of your shoulders, pain throbbing in the one that Leo had smashed accidentally into the ground earlier that day, did you focus on him. 

“He’s just unconscious,” the Professor said sternly. “Look.”

He stepped to the side to show you Leo’s body, but this time, all of it. And from the twitch of his tentacles to the slight rise of his chest, you could see he was still breathing. You didn’t hear yourself ask, but the Professor answered your question anyway. “He’s the only siren of his kind we have ever acquired. Perhaps the machine’s restraints are still not perfectly adjusted. We’ll make sure to work on this from here on out, promise.”

Relief made your body sack into the arms of the guards. However, with not even a moment to spare, you were put back onto your shaky legs and left unceremoniously to the Professor, who put on a smile again as he came to stand next to you, placing his arm around your shoulder. “You did a great thing today. We’ve all been putting our hopes in you being able to crack this tough case about why Leo had those bindings. I’d love to have a more in-depth conversation about your findings with you! Why don’t you come to my office with me?”

“I can’t,” you mumbled softly, still feeling out of it after all that commotion and your real fear of Leo dying. “I need to stay with him, I promised.”

“It’s okay,” the Professor patted your back. “You’ll be back in time for him to wake up. There will be others who are looking after him until then, and we’ll be quick–”

“No, I can’t leave him,” you interrupted him firmly. “He’s attached to me, he- he…”

The Professor’s gaze hardened as you tried to find a reason why you should stay. You couldn’t tell him about the promises, the plans, the trust that you had built with this creature. Not without making someone as clever as the Professor suspicious. If not for Leo fainting, this invitation from him would be precisely to plan, to gain trust and more insights into the facility, but you couldn’t leave Leo with strangers to wake up to. Leo would never forgive you, knowing you abandoned him at his most vulnerable moment. 

“I don’t think you understand. This wasn’t a suggestion. It’s an order. Perhaps you’ve been locked up with the siren for too long. You need to get your head free anyway.”

You gulped, finally tearing your eyes off Leo and looking at the Professor. There was no hint of a jest in his expression, and you knew there wasn’t a choice. He was going to make you leave one way or another—by walking or dragging you out. 

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding your head in understanding. “I’ll go and say bye to Leo, and we can continue talking in your office.”

Pleased, the Professor brought his hands together, stepping forward to distribute tasks among the researchers and leaving you standing there. You wanted to wallow in the shock and anxiety for a while, but you knew you didn’t have the time. Walking back over to Leo, you were given some privacy by the researcher currently taking his temperature, and you reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything stupid, you hear me?”

You couldn’t be sure if he heard you, but you hoped he did. Leo was notorious for being impulsive and acting on his first feelings. You didn’t want him to do anything and get in trouble while you weren’t there to mediate and calm the situation. You didn’t need him to get hurt now on top of fainting. 

Squeezing his hand once more, you got up, looking at the researchers crowding around him, inspecting and taking little samples out of him. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go. Not one bit. And yet, you had to push down the simmering feeling in your stomach, anxiety telling you that something would go wrong if you left, and join the Professor who was waiting. His arm fell back over your shoulder as he began to praise your work and tell you how well you connected to Leo and that he had so much he wanted to talk about. But all the way out of the enclosure, you only could look back at Leo’s passed-out form, feeling guilty about everything. 

Even when the door closed behind you, and you let out a silent sigh, did you still feel the guilt brewing in your stomach. The plan was still on, and both of you had roles to fulfill. But Leo fainting hadn’t been a part of it, and that made you nervous for the future. Perhaps you were overthinking all of this, and after giving your report and Leo waking up, the two of you could continue working as planned. Still, your gut told you something was wrong. You just couldn’t determine what it was exactly.

“Don’t worry,” the Professor reassured you, squeezing your shoulder. He must have noticed the varying expressions on your face and tried to cheer you up, so you forced a smile on your lips. “Leo is a tough creature to kill,” he continued, staring off to the end of the hallway as if he wanted to say more, but eventually, he just smiled at you. 

“We’ll continue working on preserving his species from now on. I’ve had a metal cage made for him a while ago that we can fasten to his hectocotylus and make sure he won’t accidentally rut himself to death.”

Odd, you thought, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say he was the first of his kind contained here? How did you prepare this when you didn’t know what it was before?”

“Oh,” the Professor laughed, waving his hand in the air dismissively as if you had not just called out a contradiction. “His previous caretaker was ever so worried about him. They kept coming up with ideas, and we worked on those before the end of their career here. That’s why I’ve had that cage sitting around for a while. I’m glad it’ll have some use from now on.”

For some reason, it felt like you were poking a bear with your questions, but the Professor’s answers were vague and, frankly, full of holes. You had always lamented not knowing very much ever since coming here, but by now, it felt like everyone around you purposefully left out information. 

“What happened to them?” you asked, deciding to go for it. Get at least some closure to your questions. “The caretaker, I mean.”

“Oh, they.”

Humming thoughtfully, the Professor brought his hand up to rub his chin as he thought. Not a good sign. Was he trying to come up with a lie again? Would he at least once admit the truth despite it hurting his reputation? Could you trust his words regardless of lie or truth?

“They were a great researcher with lots of empathy for the sirens and a drive for knowledge. In a way, they were just like you!”

He turned his head towards you, showing you a proud smile. However, just as quickly, it vanished, leaving behind a stern visage full of wrinkles and white hair. “But the longer they worked here, the less passionate they became. They started having thought of grandeur, thinking that they needed to ‘safe’ the creatures. Help them escape. It was not only unnecessary as the sirens didn’t even want to leave, but they also protested against the facility and their fellow researchers, which caused many disagreements and a bad work environment for everyone involved.”

Nodding to himself, the Professor appeared to lament what had happened, justifying his actions, and your breath stagnated, thinking you were about to hear what you had dismissed as Leo’s illusion. That the Professor had the old caretaker killed for their wrong-doings.

“So we had to let them go!” he suddenly concluded. “But don’t get the wrong idea. Firing was a necessity, but they got nothing from us. I heard it was very hard for them to find a place in the world back then, and they no longer work in this field of study because no one would hire them. What a pity. Such a waste of great potential.”

There was an underlying threat in the Professor’s lighthearted explanation. The one that said, “Don’t make the same mistake, or your life will be ruined as well.”

You merely hummed in silent response, not even wanting to let a negative mindset doubt the plans you had by agreeing with the Professor. But inside, you were wondering why Leo had never told you about his caretaker wanting to set him free. Latest, when he saw the letters left by them, why didn’t he admit that their plan had been to escape, too? Suppose his caretaker was so adamant, even going around the facility to garner support and get in trouble with other researchers. How could he not have known about their intentions?

It was really hard to constantly doubt everything and everyone. Your heart was heavy with never knowing whose word you could trust and what was really going on, but you had to push aside all of these thoughts and feelings when you finally reached the Professor’s office. Reliably, he typed in the number to open his door, a code much longer than the one of Leo’s enclosure. When the door clicked open, the hydraulic system kicked into gear, pulling the metal away from the entrance. The Professor took a step to the side, gesturing for you to go ahead like a gentleman. 

Immediately, your gut seethed up again, the disquieting feeling returning. 

It was just a talk about the future. Just some exchange about Leo and his health. Nothing bad would happen. Right? Right. You were just nervous because of your secret plan to escape, but no one could possibly know about it. Both you and Leo had been careful not to reveal anything in front of cameras or other people. They had nothing on you. Nothing that you could be “let go” for, like the caretaker before you.

“Let’s see about your promotion! After your success, you have definitely earned it!” the Professor announced, and you were confused, unsure how to react as you forced one foot in front of the other, stepping over the threshold and into the office. “You’ll become our new star researcher. I already know it!”

His words rang in your ears, but when he tried to say more, squeezing into the office behind you, a blaring alarm suddenly screeched up, making both your heads turn in surprise. Red lights flooded the facility, illuminating the hallways, and you heard the automatic locks of the doors around you spring into action, sealing off enclosures and other spaces.

Footsteps could be heard dashing from the other side of the reception area where the Professor’s office was, black-clothed and armed guards rushing towards where you were standing. Some stayed behind while most of them marched quickly into the hallway you had just emerged from, and all the blood in your face drained as you realized where they could potentially be going. 

You stepped out of the office, trying to see something that would either confirm or deny your fears, but the soldiers kept marching and marching, passing by all the other rooms. “Oh my god, Leo,” you breathed, panicking quite a bit now. They were going for him, you could feel it. But just as you wanted to run after them, the Professor’s arm shot out before you, holding you back.

You flinched at the sound of sudden gunfire, followed by screeching and banging, all sounds you recognized but couldn’t attribute to an exact action. Were they shooting at Leo? Was there another threat that needed to be eliminated? Was the screeching from a door as something tried to open it? Or was it trying to contain someone? What could the banging be?

“My, I hope everyone is okay,” the Professor said with calculated empathy. “We should get inside just to be safe until the alarm is over. Don’t worry. Our security will take care of whatever is going on.”

He tried ushering you inside again, but you held on to the doorframe with all your might, refusing to go inside. “I-I need to go there! I need to make sure Leo’s okay and that he isn’t freaking out or something!”

“Leo is fine,” the Professor emphasized, more guards appearing and settling around the Professor’s office, pointing their guns towards the hallway where your protegee had his home. “Let’s go inside.”

“No!” you said firmly, shocking even yourself with how determined you sounded. “I need to see him! I need to know he’s okay!”

“It’s not safe to go there! You could get hurt! Go inside the office!” the Professor ordered this time, and you took a deep breath, looking at him. You could feel the defiance inside you, an emotion that might get you killed. But at least you’d know Leo wasn’t the one creating a fuss and being the one in danger.

“I will go, whether you like it or–”

You didn’t get to finish your words as an enormous mass of red slammed into the wall at the end of the hallway. Tentacles unfurled and writhed over the ground, the tension in every fiber of his body, and you knew exactly who it was without him even looking up out of the mess of tentacles shielding him. But when he did, you stopped breathing, true, unfiltered horror settling deep into your body.

Leo.

Not the sweet, playful Leo you knew, oh no. The ferocious, unstoppable, angry terror that he was in all of his predator glory. There was madness etched in his features, teeth bared, and claws curled, ready to tear through everything and everyone if he had to, to get to where he wanted. You had never seen him like this before, always suspected, feared this side, but he had only ever been a gentle monster near you. 

“You can’t go!” the Professor ordered, holding you back by the shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed your feet in motion until you met the invisible wall your boss created. “He’ll tear you apart! He won’t stop—even for you! Get inside, now!”

His words processed in your mind while you watched as Leo clawed his way through the hallway, tense, vivid red sprawling everywhere you looked while his eyes were restless. Time seemed to slow as you watched his gaze move from side to side, the cocking of the guns suddenly so far away as Leo searched for something.

You.

Your eyes met, and his pupils dilated. Instantly, you knew he was coming for you. You had no idea what happened or why he was charging through the facility like a rabid animal. But he was coming—for you. Whether that was a good thing or a bad one, you couldn’t decide, but with a sudden flash, you were back to reality, your body being pushed back while guards screamed orders—at someone, at you, themselves. 

Leo was gaining speed, and he wouldn’t stop, not on his own. Not now that his gaze was focused and sharp. A predator hunting down his prey. He’d not let off now, but the barrier between you two was deadly. A few well-fired rounds of ammunition and even someone as big and sturdy as Leo would falter like a deer. Even as the most dangerous species in the closest radius, he was still a victim like anyone else before a gun barrel. 

He’d die. Leo would die. 

You two would not escape together. You’d not free him nor save yourself. His life would be over, and yours likewise. But the way he was coming at you, with teeth bared, blaring red coloring, and that feral fixation… was he even looking to get to you or to kill you himself?

“We have to get out of the way, now!” the Professor insisted, and you realized there were options. You wouldn’t have to stand here and watch him get killed. You didn’t need to put your own life on the line. You could hide, cowardly but safely, with the Professor as he kept pushing you to. You’d betray Leo completely but survive. You were neither his mother nor his mate, and you had no reason to put your life on the line. But after all you two shared… could you really betray him like that?

Thoughts and reasoning as always, are welcome! ♥

[napping-sapphic]

anyway manifesting notifications from people you love and texts that make you smile and easy conversations for everyone

[qvert]

I love your fanart! They are always so exquisite. Thank you for always dropping such wonderful pieces of work :)

Oh man thank you!

I’m VERY happy you like them :) and that you reached out!

[dazaicg]

as an apology for being gone for so long i give you: paci edits!!

════════════════════ ⋆★⋆

dazaicg © do not repost my works.

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[saintrosalyn]

JAILBIRD

Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.

Word count: 4.1k

Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.

Edited to Add: Part Two is posted :)

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.

The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained. 

Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.

You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor. 

It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.

The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.

___

His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left. 

He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.

The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.

You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.

It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge. 

The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.

Intimidating.

That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.

You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off. 

Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.

It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.

___

After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.

A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.

When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator. 

You were wrong.

Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.

“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.

“You should see the other guy.”

His lips twitched.

There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.

“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”

All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room. 

Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.

“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”

You nodded your head.

He gave a grunt.

That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.

You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you? 

No. It wouldn’t.

Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.

It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him. 

Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.

___

The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.

Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life. 

Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon. 

Freedom. 

So close you could practically taste it.

Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.

And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.

The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.

Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,

Finally,

You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.

You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.

“Fucking Christ your tall.”

He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.

“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.

The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.

Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing. 

Impatient.

The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours. 

A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat. 

The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.

Simon was oh-so-convenient. 

You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.

“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.

Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet. 

His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.

Jesus Christ.

Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow. 

“Yer’ wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.” 

Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.

He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The artificial sun in your glass cage.

His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you. 

It was maddening.

You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.

He spanked you.

“Behave.”

You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.

You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.

You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.

When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.

If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either. 

He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.

He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs. 

His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone. 

Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.

It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.

Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.

You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.

Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.

“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.

Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.

The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.

When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it. 

It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.

The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Your breath hitched.

The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard. 

You took a step back, then another, and another.

You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours. 

Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”

Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.

___

Part Two

[ama3003]

You Caught Me

Character: Bucky Barnes

Requested: No

Type: Angst/ Fluff

Summary: You're Valentina's assistant, and somehow, you manage to fall in love with a certain Congressman.

A.N: DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT THUNDERBOLTS TO BE SEMI SPOILED!!!!!!!!! I have seen Thunderbolts* on Thursday (amazing btw) and have been craving Thunderbolts!Bucky. Also reader is like 25.

Again THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS ARE IN THIS FIC

3...2..1...

You worked your whole life to get here. Straight A’s, a top-tier college, a string of impressive jobs that made your parents brag to their friends.

But that wasn’t the point. You didn’t do all of that just to climb a ladder. You wanted to help people. To actually do good. To give the voiceless a voice, to step in where others wouldn’t. You wanted to make the world better, even if it was just piece by piece.

That’s what led you to OXE. And eventually, to Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.

Or, more accurately, to being her assistant. Though calling it that feels like selling it short.

You’ve been working with her for a few years now. From the very beginning, she seemed to like you. Said you reminded her of herself. You’re still not sure if that was a compliment or a warning.

Valentina can be cold. She’s sharp, calculated, sarcastic to the point of painful. Some of her decisions don’t exactly land on the moral high ground. But she took you in, brought you closer, taught you how to survive in a world most people don't even know exists. And you’ve done things others your age only dream about. You were actually making a difference.

But now everything’s falling apart.

She’s under investigation. Impeachment is on the table. And you’re left trying to put out fires.

You’d been tense the entire hearing. And not the kind of tension that goes away with a few deep breaths. This was chest-tightening, eye-twitching, every-decision-matters tension.

Your job was on the line. Everything you’d worked for — or convinced yourself was worth it — was balancing on Valentina’s ability to lie with a smile.

She was performing. You were managing the fallout.

Your eyes kept drifting — trying to find some kind of anchor. And that’s when you caught a pair of them.

Blue. Cold but curious. Watching.

Congressman Bucky Barnes.

You met his stare, held it a second longer than you should’ve, then forced yourself to look away. Whatever that was — whatever he was trying to read — you didn’t have time to entertain it.

Then Valentina dropped the line you’d been dreading: “By all means, dig as deep as you like. I promise—there’s nothing to find.”

You knew that tone. It meant you had twenty minutes to erase every breadcrumb.

By the time the hearing adjourned, you were already outside, typing fast, juggling secure files and decoy trails on your tablet. You barely noticed the footsteps until—

“Y/N?”

You looked up, and there he was. Again.

That same cool stare, now paired with a too-casual smile.

“Congressman Barnes,” you said smoothly, tucking the tablet under your arm. “Nice to officially meet you. I’ve heard...great things.”

“I doubt it. Also, please just Bucky,” he said, offering a hand. “Unless you want to start talking tax policy — then I’ll put the tie back on.”

You cracked a smile and shook his hand. Firm. Warm. Too steady.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing back toward the hearing room. “I mean, what happened in there was... honestly? Kind of worrying. Extremely worrying. Kind of concerning if you ask me...in like a worrying way.”

You tilted your head. “You mean ‘concerning,’ or ‘I’m building a case against your boss’ worrying?”

He blinked. Didn’t expect you to hit back that fast.

You smiled politely. “No need to dance around it. I’m sure you’ve got a folder somewhere with Valentina's name on it.”

His grin crooked slightly. “Maybe. It’s a very organized folder. Color-coded tabs.”

“She always did love being underestimated,” you said with a shrug. “O.X.E. has nothing to hide, of course.”

He didn’t argue, but the look he gave you said he wasn’t buying it.

There was a beat of silence, and then he glanced over your shoulder — where Valentina was watching the two of you, pretending she wasn’t.

“She always stare like that?” he asked casually.

“Only when she thinks someone’s wasting my time.”

“And am I?”

“Depends on why you’re really here.”

He smiled. “Okay, fine. I’m new to D.C. First term, still finding my way. Thought maybe... you could give me a tour. Show me the non-corrupt parts.”

You laughed softly. “That’s a short list.”

“Still. Monuments, museums, a little fresh air — maybe a conversation?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Right. A conversation. Just two people talking. No ulterior motives, no recording devices, no traps.”

He held up his hands. “I left the wire at home.”

You smirked, but you didn’t let it reach your eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” he said. “Just... improvising.”

You leaned in just enough for him to know you were done playing. “You’re fishing, Congressman. I’m just not the one you’ll catch.”

He opened his mouth — maybe to protest, maybe to flirt again — but you stepped back as Valentina waved you over.

“You're a very good-looking man,” you added, softer now. “And I appreciate the effort. But whatever you’re hoping to dig up from me? You won’t get it over coffee and small talk.”

A beat passed between you.

Then you gave him one last smirk, turned, and walked back toward Valentina — leaving him standing there, watching.

And even though you didn’t look back, you knew those blue eyes hadn’t moved.

*******

You had three things on your mind.

Shut down headquarters.

Erase every trace of Project Sentry.

Clean up Valentina’s reputation before the whole thing implodes.

And somehow, you're doing all of that in a dress and heels at a fundraiser.

“Honestly, Y/N, you have such an amazing brain,” Valentina says, her smile more calculated than warm. “Putting this fundraiser together? Brilliant move. This has to sway at least some of the votes.”

“Thanks,” you reply, quickly scrolling through your tablet. “I’ve categorized the guest list: influencers, allies, and the undecideds. Left off the hard no’s. No point wasting time. I just sent the files to you.”

“Perfect. Do I need you for anything else?”

“No, you should be good. I’ll stay close though. Just in case.”

“Smart. Stay where I can see you. And hear you. Actually, just don’t go far,” she says, already turning to work the room. “Time to network.”

As soon as she walks away, you exhale, realizing you hadn’t even noticed you were holding your breath.

This job is not for the weak. Especially not under someone like her.

You glance around the room, taking in the glittering lights, expensive suits, and fake smiles. Your eyes find Valentina again, instinctively keeping track of her. Then they drift to the large Avengers logo on display at the front of the gala.

You were still a kid the first time you saw the Avengers on screen. They were larger than life. Heroes. They saved people. They made things right.

Now? You’ve seen the world fall apart more times than you can count. And more often than not, no one shows up to fix it.

That’s why you’ve stuck by Valentina. Why you’ve been willing to blur the lines. The world still needs saving. People still need heroes.

They just don’t always look the way you imagined.

“You know,” a voice says beside you, calm but unmistakably familiar, “this whole gala is impressive. The Avengers memorabilia is a nice touch.”

You turn and see him. Congressman Bucky Barnes, standing just a few feet away, his gaze locked on the towering Avengers "A" on display like it still meant something.

“Valentina thought it would help raise awareness,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral, polite. “Tie the past to the present. Nostalgia works.”

You’re careful with your words. You know why he’s here, what game he’s playing. And more importantly, you know where your loyalty lies.

He glances at you now, the full weight of those ice-blue eyes meeting yours. “Awareness for what, exactly?”

You offer a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “The mission has always been simple. Help the people. The world’s been falling apart, and heroes… they’ve disappeared. People need someone to believe in again.”

He nods slowly, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. “Again, call me Bucky. Also, that was good. Very rehearsed. Very polished. Bet Valentina was proud of that one.”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m just here for the hors d'oeuvres,” he says, voice smooth, but you catch the edge underneath it.

You take a step closer. “Look, Congressman Barnes. I know your history. And we both know what happens when evil comes and no one is there to stop it. OXE is trying to prevent that. Everything we do is for the people. Valentina’s impeachment? It won’t go anywhere.”

Even as you say it, there's a flicker of doubt. Small, but there.

He studies you for a moment before pulling a card from inside his jacket and holding it out.

“What’s this?” you ask, accepting it cautiously.

“My direct line. In case you remember something useful.”

You blink at him, caught slightly off guard by how calm he is. How sure.

You move closer, slow and deliberate, then reach up and tuck the card neatly into his chest pocket. “I don’t know what you think you’re implying, but I don’t appreciate it."

The two of you lock eyes, silence stretching between you. Not hostile, exactly. But charged. Neither of you blinks.

Then your phone buzzes.

You glance at your phone. Valentina. Of course.

You slip it back into your pocket and look up at him one more time.

“I have to go,” you say, steady. “Enjoy the rest of the gala, Bucky.”

Your smile is polite, but your eyes stay sharp. You turn and walk off without waiting for a response, the sound of your heels swallowed by the noise of the event.

Behind you, he watches you disappear into the crowd, quiet and thoughtful. Then, without a word, he finds himself slipping the card into your bag later in the night. Not for pressure. Not even for leverage.

Just in case.

And whether you used the card or not—that was your choice. Bucky just hoped he’d planted the seed.

Later that night, you sat beside Valentina in the back of a sleek black car, the city lights flickering across her face as she debriefed the night with a grin.

“I think that went incredibly well,” she said, proud and pleased with herself. “Honestly, I’m so proud of us. Oh—hand me my tablet. I gave it to you earlier when Gary started sniffing around asking too many questions.”

Your fingers found something thin. Smooth edges. Not the tablet.

The card.

Bucky’s card.

Your stomach tightened, just for a second.

He’d slipped it in without you noticing. Of course he had.

You stared at it between your fingers. You should’ve tossed it the second you felt it. Should’ve never looked at it again. But something kept your hand still.

“Y/N?” Valentina’s voice cuts in, sharp and expectant. “Tablet. Me. Now.”

You snap out of it, quickly pushing the card deeper into your bag before pulling out the tablet and handing it over.

She doesn’t notice. She’s already scrolling.

You tried to focus on the night’s success, the way people clapped when Valentina spoke, the headlines you knew would be glowing by morning. But that card was still in your bag. And the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about it.

About the look in his eyes.

About the weight of what he said.

Maybe—just maybe—he really did get in your head. And maybe that seed he planted was already starting to grow.

*********

You’d made a mistake. A big one.

And you knew it.

Your heart raced as you paced the cramped hallway, mind spiraling. You'd believed you were making a difference—helping Valentina clean up her reputation felt like part of that. She said she needed you. That this was how things got done. So you listened.

Then she told you to burn the loose ends. Literally burn them.

Human beings.

And still, you followed orders. You rationalized. You looked the other way.

But the plan didn’t go as expected. They didn’t go quietly.

They were fighting back.

And Valentina didn’t like that.

Now a SWAT team is going to finish the job.

You couldn't let them die. You knew their names. Their stories. You didn’t believe they deserved this—not like this. Maybe it was too late to save them all, but maybe you could help save others.

Maybe there was still a chance.

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You dug into your bag, searching through the chaos until your fingers found it. That damn card.

You stared at it for a beat. Then you called.

It rang once. Then again. And then he picked up.

“This is Y/N,” you said before he could get a word in, your voice low, rushed, almost breathless. “I’ve, uh... been thinking. Remember that tour you wanted? You were right. Since you’re new to D.C., I figured—why not? Let’s hit the monuments. Maybe a museum. Or... I don’t know. Just talk. Just you and me.”

There was a beat of silence.

“A chat?” Bucky’s voice came through, teasingly. You started biting your nails, heart pounding. “Yeah. I’m down for a chat. When and where?”

Before you could answer, Valentina’s voice sliced through the hallway outside.

“I swear to god, Y/N, do I have to spell it out for you? You're coming with us. Get your ass in the car. Who else is going to make my coffee right? I swear, you Gen Zers make me want to throw myself off this damn building.”

You went silent, your jaw clenched. Bucky didn’t say anything either, but you knew he heard it.

Everything inside you was pulling in different directions. Guilt. Fear. Fury. Shame.

You swallowed hard.

“Look…” you whispered, voice shaking a little. “I’m sorry about the last few times. You were right. You were always right. I was so stupid. She doesn’t care about the world. She just wants the glory.”

You were rambling now. You always did when your anxiety started creeping up your throat.

“Whoa, hey—slow down, sweetheart,” he said gently. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just tell me what I need to know.”

But before you could speak again, Valentina shouted your name, louder this time.

You turned slightly, lowered your voice again.

“Do you have an iPhone?”

“No. Samsung.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. “Do you know how to track a phone?”

“I mean, yeah. But I don’t really do that anymore.”

“Well... start doing it again.”

You paused, then added quietly, “I have to go. Track my location. You'll get your answer.”

Then you hung up.

You let out a long breath, pushed the card deep back into your bag, and ran toward Valentina’s voice.

Hoping Bucky understood.

**********

You were pacing again. Nerves buzzing. Mind racing. You were worried about the others. They escaped when Bob distracted them. Then they couldn't find them. But something told you Bucky had gotten to them first. You could feel it in your gut.

He pulled through. Of course he did.

But now… there was a new problem.

Bob.

The new guy. The unstable one.

He wasn’t like the others. Something about him was off from the start. Too volatile. Too quick to react. And now he had powers — real powers — thanks to Valentina.

She said he was the future. Said he was the key.

But all you saw was a ticking bomb with a name tag.

He didn’t need power or exposure. He needed help. And if no one stepped in soon, he was going to destroy everything — maybe even himself.

You ducked into a quiet hallway, slipped into an empty supply closet, and dialed Bucky’s number with shaking hands.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Y/N,” he said, breathless like he’d been mid-action. “We’re good. I got them. Everyone’s safe. I’m keeping them under wraps as witnesses, so we’re covered. You did the right thing calling me. Thank you.”

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the wall.

“No,” you said softly. “Bucky, there’s more. A lot more.”

There was a pause.

“Talk to me.”

“She did it,” you whispered. “She actually made one. A super soldier. His name’s Bob.”

“Bob?” he repeated, half in disbelief, half already bracing for what was coming next.

You could hear background chatter on his end — voices muttering “Yeah, Bob,”

“Yes. Bob the super soldier. He’s... not stable, Bucky. He’s got powers, strength, speed — but his head isn’t right. He’s spiraling, and Valentina’s using him like he’s a tool.

You were rambling now, the anxiety bubbling up in your chest.

“She’s restarting the entire program, and this guy — he’s the prototype. And if she gets away with this, there will be more. Stronger. You have to stop it before it turns into something we can’t come back from.”

There was silence on the line. Then you heard him moving, footsteps pacing across concrete.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m coming. I’ll handle it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” his voice softened, “are you okay?”

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, voice cracking just slightly. “Everything I worked for is going to be for nothing. I'm freaking out.”

“You don’t have to carry this alone, you know.”

“I can't tell my friends or family.” you said, quieter now. “I already feel guilty and shameful enough. They would just make me feel worse.”

Another pause. Then softer, “Y/N... I meant what I said. You did the right thing. And I’m proud of you. Really.”

You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Thanks. That means more than you probably realize.”

“I realize it,” he said. And it was quiet, but it hit you harder than it should’ve.

You hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “Are they okay? The others?”

“They’re safe. A little roughed up, but they’re going to be fine.”

“Good. That’s good,” you said, exhaling. “I should go. I’ll keep feeding you updates when I can. Just… get here fast, alright?”

“Okay,” He finally whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”

You hung up and slipped the phone back into your pocket before walking out the door. You immediately froze when your boss stared at you with raised eyebrows.

“Well,” she said coolly, “out of everyone, I never thought you would be the one second-guessing your work.”

You didn’t flinch. Not this time. “Giving Bob those powers? It’s reckless. And you know it.”

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head like you were some disappointing intern instead of her right hand. “I’m not going to argue with you, kid. I like you. I really do. You’ve done exceptional work—with me. For us. That’s why I’m giving you a little time to get your head on straight.”

Your jaw clenched. You said nothing.

“But,” she added, stepping a little closer, lowering her voice, “don’t let Barnes cloud that beautiful brain of yours. He’s a distraction. A loud, inconvenient one. And he’s getting in the way.”

You met her gaze evenly, letting the silence stretch.

Then, without a word, you grabbed your purse and walked past her—heels clicking, spine straight.

You needed to find Bucky.

*********

"Ladies and gentlemen, meet the New Avengers."

After countless photos and a barrage of questions, you kept your smile steady, doing your job one last time.

“Thank you all for coming,” you said with calm finality. “Photos and questions will stop here. I’ll be in touch about the next press briefing soon. Seriously—thank you again.”

You gave a polite nod as Valentina waved beside you, her signature smirk in place.

As the crowd began to disperse, you turned your attention to the Thunderbolts. With a gentle but firm push, you guided them out of view, away from the cameras. And then—without thinking—you grabbed Bucky and pulled him into a hug.

You couldn’t stop yourself.

You’d been searching for him. Panicking. Lost. The last image you had was of him stepping into the Void. The moment his silhouette became just that—a shadow—you screamed his name. And then… nothing.

You thought you’d lost him.

But now, here he was. Alive. Solid. Real. And all the emotions you’d buried came rushing back.

You knew there was something between you—something electric, something raw and waiting. It had barely started, but it already meant something. And for a bit, you'd been mourning the future that never got a chance to begin.

Now, you didn’t have to mourn anymore.

The moment stretched. Everyone around you went quiet. You barely registered your boss muttering an uneasy, “Oh dear.”

Bucky froze, stiff in your arms. He glanced around, uncertain. John gave him a look before mimicking hugging someone. Alexei flashed a thumbs-up. The girls? They just smirked.

“I saw you,” you whispered, pulling back just slightly. “I saw you walk into the Void. You became a shadow. I—I was trying to find you, and then you pulled that crap. What the hell, Barnes?”

He opened his mouth, but you beat him to it—stepping back before he could even return the embrace.

“I’m okay,” he said gently. “I swear, I’m fine.” He just wanted you back into his arms.

“You still scared the hell out of me,” you said, your voice breaking just a little. “I thought you were gone for good.”

Bucky's expression softened. “I’m not going anywhere. You still owe me that tour, remember?”

You laughed—half out of relief, half because it suddenly felt so easy to breathe again. You stepped closer, pulled him into a kiss, and he kissed you back without hesitation. Sparks. Heat. Home.

When you finally pulled away, smiling, you whispered, “Looks like you caught me.”

He grinned. “Looks like I have.”

Then you kissed again.

A loud groan broke the moment. “I feel like I’m gonna barf,” Val muttered.

“Shut up, Val,” the entire team replied in unison.

[stargirlygirl]

imagine long-term bf katsuki being hung up on what engagement ring to buy you. he’s gnawing at his cheeks, constantly sighing and running his fingers through his hair for a couple of months, trying to find a ring that’s good enough for you.

after patrol, he browses every reputable jewellery store in tokyo, searching for your engagement ring. he takes pictures of every one he thinks might suit you and sends them to eijiro.

shitty hair: idk about this one man. diamonds are nice but y/n gives more garnet or ruby vibes

explosive: the fuck you mean? i have to get her diamonds

shitty hair: nah bro, you should get something that suits her. not every girl wants diamonds.

explosive: stfu i know what she wants better than you do

shitty hair: 🤷‍♂️ just my opinion man

you noticed immediately that katsuki was coming home later than he usually does. you didn’t say anything at first because maybe something came up, and he did seem really exhausted.

but as weeks turn into months, you become suspicious. what is it that your boyfriend's doing after work that you can’t know about. he hasn’t changed how he treats you. if anything, he’s been even softer and sweeter with you lately.

you decide to confront him about it.

you sit at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. as 8pm fades into 10pm and drips into 12am, your anxiety ramps up. your palms are all sweaty and your heart beats erratically in your chest.

you’re on your feet as soon as the lock eventually clicks and the front door is forced open. you stalk up to a sleepy katsuki, who flings his duffel bag on the floor with a sigh.

when he turns around, you’re looking at him angrier than ever. there’s fire in your eyes as you stare up at him, your brows knitted together and jaw tight.

you spit out, “where have you been?” katsuki blinks slowly, too tired to register your words and respond. he moves to throw his arms around you, but you step back, dodging his embrace.

this time, you repeat yourself with more venom, “where have you been?” you sigh, “i’ve been waiting for you since eight.”

he grunts thickly, “why’d you stay up, babe?” you roll your eyes and slightly suck in your cheeks.

you say exasperatedly, “because i was worried about you. you’ve been coming home late from work for the last two months now.” you fold your arms beneath your chest as you scold him, “so where have you been?! seriously, like, where the fuck have you been wandering off to while i make you dinner and do your laundry?”

katsuki shakes his head, whispering, “baby, s’not like that.”

you catch his words and scoff, “so then, what is it like? i clearly don’t know so why don’t you tell me?”

his full lips draw into a hard line as he huffs, contemplating whether to tell you he’s been hunting for the perfect engagement ring for his perfect girl… and that he’s finally found one. it wasn’t easy, especially since he has just put up with yappertron 3000 chargebolt, skateboard freak elbows, and shitty hair for the past three hours while acquiring this ring.

he bites his tongue, mumbling, “look, i’ve just been busy, yea?”

you chuckle derisively, “you’ve been busy? right, okay.” you turn around and begin walking away from him when he catches your elbow. his grip is firm but considerate.

he tugs you back, making you stumble into his chest. you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t even budge as he draws you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly.

you shout, “just fuck off, katsuki!”

wincing, he rests his chin on the top of your head and murmurs, “no more late nights, baby, i promise. at least not for a while.” his body is so warm against yours, and his musk is so strong. you give up your assault on his concealed but delicious muscles and still in his grasp.

you grumble, “it’s not about the late nights, katsuki. it’s about you keeping things from me.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs circles on your back with his calloused palms.

he mutters into your hair, “i’ll tell you soon, okay?” you shake your head before tilting it back, returning his soft gaze with your harsher one.

you murmur, “so you’re not cheating on me? or are you cheating on me but intend to come clean?” your boyfriend’s mouth falls open as he stares at you, his blond brows raised slightly. regaining his composure, his usual scowl is back on his face.

he grumbles, “cheating? why the fuck would i be cheating on you?!” he licks his lips and gazes past you for a moment, sighing, “for fuck’s sake, babe. god, why the fuck would i be cheating on you? d’you really think i’m a cheater?!” you shake your head, taken aback by his sudden frustration.

he shouts, “I’VE NEVER CHEATED! NEVER! NOT LIKE FUCK-ASS DEKU WHO DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK AND THEN—”

you gently pat his chest as you try to soothe him, “okay, okay, honey, it’s okay. i know you’re not a cheater.” after a few minutes, he calms down (for the most part).

he grunts, “d’you really think i’d do that?” a droplet of his spit hits your eyebrow. you go to wipe it away but he beats you to it, apologising all the while. you reassure him it's okay as you stroke his well-defined back up and down.

you say softly, “of course not. but if you’re not cheating on me, then what else are you doing? i just don’t understand, suki.” he shakes his head before settling back into the crook of your neck; his resting place.

he murmurs into your hot flesh, “just give me a few days n’ i’ll tell you, alright?” you pull back, cupping his cheeks with your hands while his fingers clench the back of your shirt.

you shake your head, saying, “you can tell me now.”

he huffs, “babe—”

“no,” you cut him off. “tell me now. i deserve to know why you’ve been coming home so late.” he gazes down momentarily as his fingers curl into your shirt even more, close to tearing the fabric with how tight his grip is.

he mumbles, “stubborn brat.”

it’s like something snaps. he releases your shirt from his killer grasp and smirks. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvety red, ring box.

he grabs your wrist and places it in your palm, saying, “that’s the reason.” he gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to open the box. but you’re in shock.

your wide eyes bore into his narrow ones as you blink dumbly. your lips are slightly parted, open enough for the flies to make a home in your mouth. and they could with how little you’re registering right now. you can’t think or speak or move. all you know is that your long-term partner just placed a ring box in your hand.

katsuki rolls his eyes, attempting to hide the pain in his expression as you continue staring at him. he huffs, “well, are you gonna open it or not?”

you nod, your mouth awfully dry. you seal your lips as you shakily open the box. inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. leaves protrude from the band and petals encircle a bright ruby glistening in the golden living room light; a rose. your gaze flickers up to him before switching back to the ring, and then back up to him.

you stutter, “a-are y-you, u-um, a-ask-asking m-me t-too—”

“yes,” he says solemnly. “you’re everything to me, baby. s-so, yea, will you be my wife?” you nod furiously. smirking, he takes the little box from your hand and slips the ring onto your finger. all the tension pent up in his body dissipates as he embraces you once more.

you squeeze his slutty waist tight as you begin tearing up, trying to process that your boyfriend just became your fiancé. katsuki sweetly kisses your forehead before resting his against yours.

he mutters, “i don’t tell you how much i love you enough. clearly like fuck. i fuckin’ love you, baby girl. more than you’ll ever know.”

a/n: link to the engagement ring design here (please lmk if it doesn't work); just imagine that it's a ruby and not a diamond.

[dragonsondragons]

Self Care - Jack Abbot x Resident!Reader

Summary: Jack’s new girlfriend takes self care really seriously given the line of work they’re in. He starts to observe these habits and some of them rub off on him.

Tags: Super fluffy, no use of y/n, implied age gap, suggested sexual activity, no real smut just Jack feeling you up a little, beekeeper!Jack

Author’s Note: Why am I obsessed with beekeeper!jack. There may be more where this came from because I had so much fun with this one– perhaps Jack and reader gardening (wink wink) while in their garden? Leads to sweet and slow stoned sex? Let me know what you think or if you have any requests! I’m always looking for more ideas. 

Also, fill out this google form if you'd like to be added to my taglist :)

You do your little stretching routine after you wake up and you ask him if he wants to join you. He gives it a try, reluctantly at first. Then he starts to realize how good it makes him feel and does it with you every time. 

“What's this pep in your step you got going on here, brother?” Robby notices one day at hand-off. “Something to do with your favorite resident? Or should I say…new lady friend,” he does a little jazz hands.

“I regret ever telling you about us,” Jack rolls his eyes at lady friend. “But yeah, actually. She’s got me stretching when we wake up,” he explains.

“Ah. She’s got you whipped is what you mean.”

Jack chuckles under his breath. “Fuck off, stretching is good for you. And being whipped isn’t so bad either.” ____

You have a little garden that you tend to in the morning as the sun’s still rising right when you get off shift. It's cathartic, to take care of something that can't puke or bleed on you. Can’t punch you in the face. 

Both you and Jack had worked last night and it was a tough one. One of those nights where it felt like you lost more than you saved. You asked Jack to come back to your place after the shift ended, just wanting to be near him after your hell of a day. 

It was still early in your relationship, you had only spent the night at Jack’s place. This was his first time coming to stay at yours. 

You could tell he was so exhausted that you offered to drive home and he eventually accepted. He sat in the passenger seat of his Tacoma with his eyes closed as you drove, envisioning a shower, you looking soft in a ratty old t-shirt, and eating take out on the couch before going to sleep.

Instead, after you made two mugs of tea and set one before him on the coffee table, you headed to the backyard, slipping through the sliding glass door with a quiet “be right back, have to take care of some stuff real quick.”

After you’re gone more than 10 minutes and he almost dozed off twice, he started to wonder what this stuff was. He peeks out the glass door, seeing you knelt down at the edge of a garden bed peeling weeds out of the ground around your plants. The garden hose was on, filling up a big watering can to your left.

He comes to stand next to your kneeling form, placing a tender hand on the crown of your head and lightly running his fingers through your hair. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Checking on the plants. It helps me clear my mind from the day.” You smile softly up at him, see his free hand rub at his weary eyes. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower, I’ll be right in," you promise. He nods, turns to head back inside. 

He couldn’t believe you wanted to be pulling weeds and lugging watering cans after a shift. But when you trailed in a few minutes later, joining him under the spray of the water, he could see the way your shoulders were looser. You were more peaceful, at ease. It made him feel more calm too, just knowing you felt a little bit better. 

He started lugging bags of soil for you the following mornings. Dug up trenches to lay a new irrigation system for the crops. This time of spring brought so many birds tweeting around in the morning air, the perfect sound track to your calming moments together in the garden.

It was a peaceful endeavor, one Jack never thought he would find himself doing but turns out he absolutely loves it. After you tell him about the benefits of pollinators he really wants to start keeping bees (Jack Abbot is beekeeping age). He does all this research about it to make sure he doesn’t fuck with the bees, wants to do it right. Gets the whole mesh suit which you can't stop laughing at the first time he puts it on. Names his hive Beetopia. He's serious about these bees and you find it so endearing. You love that he's meshing into your life like this, making his own niche in something you both do together.

Sometimes when there isn’t much to be done he’ll make breakfast while you tend to the garden. He will always try to utilize the fruits and vegetables you grow as well as his self-harvested honey whenever he can. You eat it out on the patio, admiring the work the two of you have done. Your own little paradise. ____

Out of all the self care tactics that you have brought into his life, the bubble bath is definitely one of his sleeper favorites. His house had a huge bathtub in it that he never once used. One of the first times you stayed over, you went to use the bathroom before going to bed. His eyes were already closed when he heard you squeal in the en suite attached to his room. 

“How did you not tell me about this!” you yelled out to him. 

“What, the bathroom?” he responded half asleep and confused. You came back into the room and jumped into the bed next to him, resting your chin on his chest. He peeked his eyes open as he rubbed up and down your back.

“No! That massive tub, genius!” He was surprised. Hadn’t thought once about that thing since he moved in. 

“You like it?”

“I don't like it, Jack. I love it. Baths are so soothing and rejuvenating. I always feel like a newborn baby when I get out of the bath. And I don't have a tub at my place.”

“You’re welcome to use it anytime you want, honey.” He shifted you to your side, cuddling into you and kissing your cheek. 

“You’re too good to me. And as a reward I’m making you get in there with me.” he lets out a breath of a laugh as he drifts off to sleep with you in his arms. ___

You both had the next day off, for once. So there was no time like the present to christen Jack’s bathtub. He was nervous about getting in, not being able to wear his prosthetic to keep him stable, but you got in first and held onto him tight as he stepped over the edge and eased himself down into the water. You settled in front of him, letting out a breath as you melted back into him. 

You thought you liked baths already, but this was pure bliss. His strong body against you, your breaths synching up. He washed your hair and you washed his. The warm water soothed his achy back and the overcompensating muscles in his leg. 

Safe to say, baths become a regular occurrence for you two.

You get him a matching fluffy robe with a hood because one time he said he was jealous of how cozy you looked in yours after a bath. Once, Shen stopped by to drop off the butterfly portable ultrasound that he had borrowed and Jack answered the door in said robe. 

Jack had his stoic work face on, the grumpiness only enhanced by the fact that Shen’s visit was interrupting his time with you.

“Ha, you look like a Sith, Abbot,” Shen teased him, butterfly in one hand and a half drank Dunkin’ in the other. “Robe’d up and about to cut my hand off.” He took a loud sip of his coffee as Jack just glared at him. 

“Get out of here before I actually consider it.” He tugged the Butterfly from Shen’s grasp, about to slam the door in his face. 

“Oh c'mon Jack, that’s not very nice.” You ran up to the door and opened it further to reveal yourself. 

“Sorry John, he didn’t mean that.” 

“Yeah right.” He takes in your appearance beside Jack, wearing the same exact fuzzy robe. “Like the matchy matchy, very cute you two.” Shen pulls out his phone and snaps a picture before either of you could even process it. “That’s totally going in the group chat, dude,” he laughed. 

“Not making a good case for yourself here,” Jack muttered. Shen couldnt stop laughing, and at that you moved your hand off the door jamb and let Jack slam it shut. 

He turned to you then and let out a little chuckle at the whole ordeal. “He’s a piece of work.”

“Thought he was your favorite resident?”

“No, you're my favorite resident.” ___

Besides stretching to start the day on a good note, taking soothing baths, and tending to your garden you also do yoga sometimes to turn your mind off and tune into your body after a hectic shift. He’s still reluctant to try that one, and likes to give you your space to do the things you enjoy on your own sometimes. So he doesn't join you for that, but he loves watching you as you get ready to head to the studio. 

You always wear these skin tight, colorful matching workout sets that drive him crazy. He doesn’t mean to keep you from getting to class, but sometimes he just can’t help the temptation.

“Baby,” he draws it out in a long groan. He crossed the room to you, grabbing your hips and ghosting his hands up and down, reverently. You were trying to gather your keys and yoga mat to head out the door. “You’re killing me here with the powder blue.” The leggings hugged your ass just right. God, he was about to start drooling.

You try to squirm out of his hold to put your shoes on, but he won't budge. “Get a good look, Jack, because I gotta go. Gonna be late if I don't leave right now.” 

“Oh no, you're gonna be late already? Maybe you should just stay here with me,” he pouts suggestively. 

“Already paid for the class. Actually you did, your card’s on the account.” With your resident salary, Jack liked to treat you to things like a membership to a fancy yoga studio with free green smoothies. He loved ‘providing’ for you, even though you both knew you could be just fine by yourself. 

“Even better. I don't care about losing 30 bucks right now. Because you look way too sexy in those leggings to leave me here all alone.” He pecks your lips, then down your neck, sucking the spot where he knows will draw out a moan from you. You grasp your hand into his hair, getting lost in his efforts to entice you. 

“Let me peel these off of you,” he begs, running his fingers under the waistband of the leggings. His hands travel lower, kneading at your ass and pulling you tighter against him. “Just let me worship your beautiful body, sweetheart.”

How could you say no to that? Maybe you would miss your class, but this was a form of self care as good as any.

[81pastrys]

Qatar Heat Wave

Summary— When she gets too hot at Qatar the boys band together to make sure she’s okay

Warnings— overheated reader ; caring grid boys ; mention of puke but not explicit

A/N— I love the grid boys 🫶🏻

Multiple driver fic list

Request— hi love ur work so much. Could I request a new rookie female driver on the grid and shes debuting on one of the most hottest circuits ever and shes really struggling and the grid helps her and when they do the weigh in shes lost like too much weight and shes feeling like shit and the grids helping her

The FIA has this amazing sense of stupidity that they let their drivers do a race during a fucking heat wave of all things. Not to even mention that Qatar was hot as is already.

She never did well in heat, but she was a damn good driver. The podium was actually a relief. Flooding through the cold sparkling water sprayed over their sweaty race suits. Her trainer promised a very icy cold bath, knowing her body elements never regulates in weather like this.

Charles and Carlos nearly had to catch her at weigh-in. They noticed her ticket had a warning symbol and that she was underweight as fuck. She kept stumbling and eventually they made eye contact and texted the group to watch over her.

Oscar then noticed her dazed look from the cooldown and realized she was in fact not cooling down. After the podium, Oscar grabbed her arm for stability, not for himself but he could see her swaying after the pictures.

“Okay, sit.” Oscar said once they got down the stairs from the podium. This caught Charles’ attention. He whipped around and saw her panting like she ran a marathon.

“Merde, is she okay?” Charles asked. She herself shook her head no and Oscar could sense more bad things ahead, asking for a bucket. Charles asked for them to grab her teammate, Kimi. Not that the teenager could do much but he knew her best at this point.

Oscar gave her the bucket and that apparently upset her stomach enough to use it. Kimi and Toto ended up by them almost instantly. Toto got her to stand and they unzipped her suit. She looked weak. They brought her back to Mercedes and her trainer took over.

The ice bath was set up but she couldn’t just shock her body, she had to cool down naturally a bit first. “No, ice, please.” She mumbled when he told her that. “Hot.”

“I know but if we throw you in ice when you’re this hot you might injure yourself.” He explained. They got her suit off and rolled the sleeves of the fireproof up. Kimi kept shoving water to her and Valterri was nearby in case the teen himself got nauseous or too hot.

“The group chat is going crazy over you.” Kimi said worried. She waved him off and he sighed. “Seriously they want to know if you’re okay!” He insisted.

“Do I look fine? Fuck, tell them to give me a minute.” She snapped. Unusual for her to snap at Kimi but she did not feel good. Her trainer finally gave her the go ahead for the ice bath and she sunk in, only a sports bra and spandex shorts on.

Kimi handed her the phone and it was a group call of all the drivers. She glared at Kimi and he held his arms up in innocence. “They wouldn’t stop.” He said.

“How’s our girl doing?” Ollie asked teasingly.

“Oscar told me you were sick after the podium how are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Dios Mio, don’t scare us like that.” Carlos chimed.

“Oui, don’t do that!” Charles added. She rolled her eyes. “Cherie, we care about you.”

“I’m fine now, I’m in an ice bath.” They all giggled and laughed over the phone.

“You know it’s bad then, she hates ice baths.” Alex laughed. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I don’t know maybe I’ll pass out just to get more attention.” She joked and Kimi laughed, seeing her teasing smile.

“She’s joking.” Kimi said quickly when they went silent. “Now can she enjoy her ice bath in peace?” The boys agreed and hung up the phone.

They didn’t leave her alone for long, once she was cleared and deemed fit to return to her hotel, it was crowded with flowers and get well soon gifts.

She groaned and sent a middle finger to the group chat with all the gifts behind it and a simple: ‘I’m not a baby, quit treating me like one assholes’

Such sweet boys

@il0vereadingstuff @itznotsophia @angelluv16 @kallanfiona @pandabiiissh

[endereies]

JUST NEED YOU - CS

No Nut November - Day 3

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ After a long day, Chris goes to you for comfort

Being awake late into the night repeatedly created such a messed-up sleep schedule and it was taking its toll. Ever since the triplets made a new schedule to fit around meetings and events, they found themselves filming into the dark hours of the day so that they could publish a higher quality video.

Chris was always energetic, and he portrayed that during every free opportunity. However, today was slightly different. Him and his brothers planned a stream about midday, along with a late filming session. Nothing he couldn’t handle until his team wanted to have a sudden meeting about his upcoming Fresh Love merch drop. It was early in the day compared to what he was used to.

The meeting wasn’t anything special, but it cut into the hours of rest he hoped would get him through the day. He wasn’t even sure of the meeting wasn’t necessary or a topic that couldn’t be discussed over a few strings of emails.

Then the streaming session followed. So many interactive tasks messed with his brain. Reading out the subs, communicating with the chat, following the requests, playing games while having to make the content engaging with commentary, it was becoming too much. Everything started to blur together, and his brothers could see that. They picked up on the subtle changes of their brother and brought the stream to a close.

“You going to be okay for filming dude?” Matt’s voice caught his attention and dragged it away from the day dream he didn’t even know he was having,

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just a little tired but I’m fine. I’ll grab an energy drink or something.” He shrugs, hiding the mental exhaustion on his face behind a meek smile. His brothers chose not to bring it up again and trust Chris with his words.

“Alright then, see you later.” Chris mumbled a goodbye to Nick, leaving the room to grab a drink from their fridge. The crack of the can giving him some hope that he’d feel more awake. But that’s the opposite of what happened.

The triplets had scheduled a car video for this Friday and if Nick wanted to have it edited by then, they had to film tonight. He was sat in the passenger seat, his third drink laying in the centre console. The filming started promising. Even with no topic, they each found small topics of conversation to entertain. He felt the drinks start to wear off and he couldn’t help but feel more agitated. Bantar turned into insults and left his mouth before he could process. Guilt filled his stomach as more words came out, eventually falling to silence.

When the camera finally stopped showing the red light, Chris sunk into his seat. Overstimulation ran through him by now and he hated it. Every cell in his body practically vibrated and he didn’t feel okay.

“Matt?” He offered a sincere tone to his brother, not opening his eyes while he leant back.

Matt glanced over to his body, evidently full of fatigue. “Yeah buddy?”

“Could you drop me at y/n’s house, please.” His brain felt fuzzy, he needed to just take his mind off his life for a moment. With his own home full of cameras, social media plans and reminders of what he had to do next, he needed a secondary. Your place held sanction to everything that made Chris feel calmer, safer. Away from cameras, away from his job and into your arms. When Matt hummed in response the car grew silent once more. Relief flooded him and a gracious smile twitched at his lips.

Neither Nick nor Matt uttered a word about the situation to Chris. They understood. There had been times where both of them had been in the same boat. The weren’t about to ridicule and tease Chris for that. Chris was just staring out the window at this point, falling silent which allowed the aux’s music to be heard. His eyes traced the painted lines on the road awaiting the moment those lines turned into the gravel of your drive way.

Chris knew you were home, he had been on and off messaging all day. Every few hours he’d receive a text from you just asking about his day. It wasn’t uncommon for Chris to seek your attention after a harsh day, today was no different.

He found himself stood in front of your door for mere moments before pushing the door open. His breathes instantly levelled and a feeling of relief filled his body as he took in the familiar surroundings. “Baby?”

“I’m in my room, Chris!” It didn’t take him long before he wondered into your bedroom.

When he pushed the door open, the scent of your vanilla candles breezed past him, the light casting a soft glow against your skin. You were stood by your closet, organising out piles of clothes freshly washed and dried. He couldn’t help but admire the way the flickered candle lights lit up the room. You feel his eyes baring into yours.

“What’s s’matter babe?” You don’t lock eyes with him briefly as you stretch your body to place a t-shirt away. Chris dawdled towards you, a breathy chuckle leaving his mouth.

“Too fucking much, m’exhausted and stressed.” His arms easily wrapped your waist, the feel of your skin making him sigh softly. You felt the pressure of his face, buried into your neck as he breathes in your scent.

“Would you want to lie down for a bit?” A small giggle passes your lips when Chris’s grip on your waist gets tighter. “Thought you’d never ask…”

Reluctantly, he let go of your body only for his hands to find yours, dragging you both towards your bed. Your bodies align so easily so that you were lying on his chest. Peppered kisses trace your features gently. Chris loves these moments more than anything, the times of the day where he could just be him with no camera or responsibility pushed into his face.

You settle your body in his arms, his heartbeat prominent when you placed your head flat on his chest. Chris’s hand finds his way to your scalp, running his fingers back and forth.

“You want to talk about your day?” You whisper softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze once more. Something in the way you look at him makes his body relax further.

He is quick to shake his head, planting a kiss on your lips. “ Jus’ need you…”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa23 @emilyfaith2003 @zariyam @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone

© ENDEREIES 2024

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 || 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ Right after Lucy breaks up with Harry, he is left with an extra ticket to Iceland, so he invites the most unexpected person to go with him: you, Lucy’s sister. Only to return to New York and learn that he knocked you up.

warnings_ age gap (unspecified), spoilers for the movie, pregnancy, angst, they fuck and then it’s slowburn, fluff, Lucy and reader kinda have beef (but they love each other), NO PROOFREAD, BEWARE (I’ll edit grammar and blah blah later okay?)

Notes_ just please listen in order while reading:

1. Relationships

2. So Close

3. Guess You Could Say I’m In Love

4. My Baby (Got Nothing At All)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 Pedro

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ

It was the perfect night of extremely late spring, when it was not cold anymore but you still needed a light jacket. You had been out, leaning against the railing of a bar, smoking and looking at the passing city.

You heard the door opening and when you turned to look over your shoulder, you spotted Harry: your sister’s new boyfriend.

He also noticed you and barely smiled at you before walking closer. He was on a phone call, something about a meeting and appointment.

“Work call?” you asked after he hung up.

“Yeah. Lucy didn’t mind” Harry said and you allowed yourself to groan and roll your eyes at his words.

“Let me guess. She was talking with John?” you asked, and Harry seemed embarrassed, but he disguised it so well that he nodded.

“That woman is all talk-talk and no moves”

“I guess you’re her-“

“Lucy is my sister” you revealed to the man. “Well, my half-sister”

“I see, and… Why do you say that? About her?” He asked, making you sigh.

“You’re dating her. I don’t want to spoil your relationship” Harry chuckled, he stepped closer, also leaning on the railing like you.

“Swear I won’t tell…”

“Pinky promise?” You offered your pinky finger and he twirled his around yours. You spotted his gold ring and you finally confirmed that he was actually very rich.

“Pinky promise” he swore.

“Lucy claims she wants to secure a partner with money rather than loving them. But I know she yearns for sickening love”

Harry as the smart man you knew he was, understood quickly. Didn’t say anything, but you knew he would start thinking about your words eventually.

“What about you, kid? Do you want sickening love?” He asked and you crossed your arms, looking down at your boots.

“I once experienced it, as a teenager. But now… Not so sure. I don’t know if I have it in me anymore”

“We find it…”

“Childish” you finished for him.

Both of you smiled at each other.

…

You weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing that NYU hired you to be an advisor just weeks before the spring semester was over. With so much free time, you found yourself going to dance classes for adults and getting a volunteer job at your local library.

It was early in the morning when you had just finished getting ready to go to the library when your phone vibrated.

An unidentified number appeared on the screen and you debated whether to answer or not. You decided to pick it up, since it could be related to work.

“Hello?”

“It’s Harry…”

You frowned confused. Why was your sister’s boyfriend calling you? You had barely spoken to him before and after the night at the bar.

“Harry, hi. How did you get my number?”

“Your number is on the staff members list of NYU” he said and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Right. Well, How can I help you, dear?” You had no idea why he was calling. Lucy and you weren’t as close as it appeared.

She was the big sister and since your father preferred your mother before hers, it was not a secret in the family that you slowly became the priority.

You had just finished college unlike Lucy, who was a dropout. You barely had ex-boyfriends and couldn’t care less about dating, compared to her.

“I know this might sound weird…” he started, making you press the cell phone harder against your ear and cheek. “Lucy just broke up with me and we were supposed to take a flight to Iceland in the evening. And… She’s gone. I have this extra ticket and since you two have the same last name- I thought…”

You stopped listening to whatever he kept saying. Only focusing on the first part.

What would you do in Iceland with your sister’s ex-boyfriend? You didn’t know.

Then you thought about Harry himself. You barely knew him, he was wealthy, and apparently perfect according to Lucy.

Wouldn’t he prefer to take a model or fitness queen with him? And beyond that, Did he tolerate you enough to invite you?

“Harry, Are you sure? Cause-“

“Please, say yes. I can get you a room of your own and-“

“Perfect. I’ll send my driver to pick you up at 4:00. In the meantime I’ll put your name on the ticket” Harry said with evident optimism. “You have a passport, Right?”

“Yes, I have a passport” you confirmed with a smile.

“Great, I’ll see you later, kid” and he hung up.

You sighed, confused, happy, and overwhelmed. You weren’t sure why you said yes, you weren’t even sure if you completely liked Harry and you definitely weren’t telling anyone.

You went to grab your passport with the fear of finding it wasn’t expired. And when you saw it was all under control, you smiled.

It was a trip to the unknown. But you weren’t scared. In fact, you were curious about knowing better Harry and why Lucy broke up with him.

…

He was actually perfect. Harry went straight to see if the luxurious hotel in Reykjavík could give him another room for you. To his dismay, nothing could be done, but you assured him it was okay.

Sharing the same bed was not an issue. Not when the bed itself was bigger than any bed you had seen before.

He booked a private trip to walk inside a volcano and then, he rented a private spot in the Blue Lagoon, where hundreds of tourists waited to get a relaxing time in the waters but you two passed through all of them like nothing, as if Harry owned the place.

It was a medium-sized pool with amazing views of the mountains covered in green fawn and the gloominess of the surrounding water. You felt like a child, like a Nordic mermaid.

Harry had been nice, giving you hundreds of compliments and sharing light talk. He was very handsome, you noticed when he entered the pool. He had two scars in his thighs and you wanted to ask about it but you didn’t want to make him feel awkward. His wet hair made him look younger, but his fit appearance did all the work.

And as you enjoyed the feeling of swimming and basically savoring the water, Harry could only eye you with curiosity. And you wondered if he was noticing how childish you could be.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I love the water” you admitted, finally taking a seat instead of remaining wandering. Your cheeks disgusting the embarrassment as they already were red from the vapor of the waters.

Harry only offered you a brief smile.

“I don’t mind that you’re enjoying this”

“I never thought of visiting Iceland before” you admitted, looking at the portrait views of the place. “I’m ignorant of much of the beauty the world has to offer”

“Where do you want to go? Paris?” You chuckle, shaking your head.

“I mean of course I want to go to Paris but I’ve always had a thing for Italy and Japan” you admitted. “And lately I’ve thought about how much I’d like to go to Malaysia”

“Malaysia?” Harry asked with genuine interest as you nodded.

“Yes, it’s perfect”

“I never thought about it” you shrug at the man sitting across from you.

“I can’t believe Lucy wasted the opportunity to experience something like this…” you said and Harry seemed to get thoughtful. He turned away from you, his arms leaning on the rocks and looking at the biggest mountain in the place.

“You were right…” he said taking you by surprise.

“I was?” You asked with shyness, thinking maybe you’d gone too far.

“Yeah, about her wanting sickening love…” you didn’t know if it was correct to ask for more details, but Harry spared you the silence. “I can’t love so easily, I just want companionship and stop hearing my mother that she wants me to marry”

“Then find someone who also just wants companionship. No actual love and pointless sweet nothings” you said taking a place beside him, feeling your muscles relaxing thanks to the water.

Harry turned to his left to eye you. He smiled and chuckled.

“You’d make a hell of a good wife for my mother” You shook your head, chuckling as well.

“Oh my god, Why?”

“She and my dad have a chunky age gap. She always tells me to date younger women…”

“Well, most relationships with age gaps don’t work well. But there are somewhere… the relationship sticks” you started, trying to choose the right words. “I hope that yours sticks too”

Both of you smiled at each other.

…

The dinner was great. You were surprised at how great you got along Harry. He was older and had more experience in every single aspect but he listened to your stupid bullshit and followed along. Just like you listened and asked about his stuff. It was like actually befriending someone. But in the middle of a Scandinavian five-star dinner and Vínarbrauð for dessert.

Then both of you wished good night to each other and went to bed. He never made you feel awkward or obligated to do anything and you loved it.

But you couldn’t sleep. Harry had been rolling over the bed for hours. You didn’t mind, but you grew curious as to why the sun was still up. Until you are seated on the floor, looking at the balcony and you remember it was a time of the phenomenon called Midnight Sun. The sun barely set over the horizon.

The sky looked red, purple orange, and with hints of magenta, with the rest almost completely dark. You couldn’t recall a sunset as beautiful as that one in Iceland.

“Can’t sleep?” Harry asked, startling you.

“You scared me, shit. But… No, for some reason, I cannot”

“Jet lag. I can’t sleep either”

His dark grey pajama pants and black t-shirt made him look cozy, even worthy of cuddles, but as the non-love person he was, you knew that’d be hardly a reality.

“We can postpone tomorrow’s agenda”

“No, I’m fine. You planned out everything already, I can’t make you cancel or postpone….” Maybe you sounded a little too hysterical, but you felt slightly entitled to enjoy everything Harry had planned for the trip. Even if it was meant to be for your sister.

Anyone would’ve said it was morally wrong and imprudent to accept the trip invitation. But… Why not? Harry was great and he wanted company. You thought he offered the ticket to you because it was cheaper to change first names and leave the same last name.

“You can say no, y/n. The fact that I have you here with me doesn’t mean you have to accept everything I planned” Harry said with a kind smile. One that made you realize he was a really good person.

Perhaps Lucy was right: he was perfect.

“You’re far too kind, Harry. I swear I’m insisting because I want to enjoy this trip” You lied in the slightest, but Harry didn’t seem to notice.

“Good girl,” he said patting your head and you playfully yanked his hand.

“I’m not a dog, man” Both of you chuckle until there are those smiles again.

Since that night in the bar, you felt some peace when that exchange of smiles happened. And you felt it again in that hotel, in Iceland.

“Maybe it was meant to happen this way” Harry said looking at the still Midnight Sun. “To have you here and not Lucy…”

“Could be destiny telling you to have a female younger friend”

“Or you just wanted to save money on the extra ticket” Upon hearing your words, Harry started cackling, which made you smile confused.

“You think I did it to save money?” You nodded and he kept laughing.

“I knew you were rich but no this reach”

“That gives me more points, right?” Then you cackled, patting his knee.

“You seriously have been brainwashed”

“Why so?”

“This thing about dating being a business” you said with a slightly frustrated tone. “It’s all total bullshit, just find someone who you enjoy spending time with, don’t cheat on them, and call it a day”

“So if I wasn’t rich, Would I still be a fair option for you?” Harry asked.

“You’re good-looking. Despite being older than me, you’re hot so… That’s a good start for me, so yes”

“What about being shorter?”

“Why? You had the limb lengthening surgery?” You asked and he remained quiet, looking at you deeply in the eye. So you started cackling again.

“For real?” Slowly, he nodded with genuine shyness.

“Oh my god. If you were my boyfriend, this where I kiss your cheeks, tell you I don’t give a fuck but make fun of it for the rest of our time together”

Harry only glared at you with a little smile. The faint light of the room is getting brighter as the sun would soon start to rise again. But Harry thought you looked radiant, with no makeup or trying to make yourself look desirable. At one moment he thought he would regret taking you with him. But he was glad since you were good company.

“That’s it. Now you know my darkest secret, now you’re entitled to be my friend forever” he joked, so you offered your hand.

“Friends forever, then…” you said, shaking his big and warm hand.

He didn’t let go of your hand at first. And when he did, his fingers passed to caress your cheek, testing the skin of it. It took you by surprise, but you found yourself leaning closer to him.

As he started to lean as well, you thought twice if it was a good idea. But there wasn’t much to think about when you already had Harry’s lips on yours.

By the way, his lips tried to take complete control, you understood that Harry was a dominant lover. He wanted the power of giving pleasure and when you started to feel his weight pushing you backward, you also understood he was more interested in your release rather than his.

“Harry…” you whispered before leaning backward completely.

“Should we stop?” He says on your lips, his hands stopping their movements in your hips.

You instantly missed the way his thumbs caressed your hip bones, the ache between your legs growing at a desperate speed.

You finally got on your back, your right hand barely touching his chin. His beard tickled you and when he accidentally moved his head, you touched his lips, so you pushed him, urging him to kiss you again.

“Do you have condoms?” You asked, trying to articulate coherent words as Harry pushed your shorts aside, quickly feeling how you weren’t wearing any underwear. He gasped and gave your wet lips a soft pat before nodding as you moaned for the first time in the night.

“Yeah, in one of my bags” you nodded back, trying to focus on getting the protection first. But dear lord, his fingers rubbed you so well, expertly gathering your crystal clear juices and making a wet mess in your clit. Your legs opened wider by instinct.

“Go and get the damn condom before I start getting wetter and needier” he smirked and when you thought he was going for the condoms, he slid two of his clean fingers in your mouth.

“I think, you come first and then I get the condoms” It shouldn’t have turned you on how bossy he sounded. You were pretty boring when it came to sex, but… What were you seeing in Harry that he was making you feel so aroused?

“Now, suck my fingers while I use the rest on your pretty cunt” You moaned in his fingers and closed your eyes when he started fingering you. All the time comes to remember the damn condoms.

It was safe to say that neither of you remembered the booked whale sighting tour for the next morning.

…

Was Harry your friend, friend with benefits, lover? You couldn’t tell.

Iceland was a dream. It made you feel sad to return to New York. But as the days passed, you quickly got back to your old routine and self. You remember your life was also great with no man sleeping by your side, dealing with debts, and not having five-course meals.

Until he called. Exactly two weeks after returning home.

“Am I talking with the most optimist woman in New York?” You smiled, remembering how Harry started saying you were too optimistic while trying different things in Iceland. Or when things got a little rocky after visiting a melting glacier.

“I believe that optimistic woman stayed in Iceland, sir” he chuckled and it made you smile wider.

“I should’ve called sooner, but I was so busy. How are you, kid?”

“It’s okay, I get it. I’m fine and you? How is job and life going?”

“Things are fine. Things are fine…” he repeated.

There’s a comforting silence for a couple of seconds. You heard the birds near your window and the sound of traffic down the block.

“So… We should see each other one of these days” you felt your heart pounding, fluttering, and sending shockwaves through your body. The same thing that happened with people who made you happy. You couldn’t tell but you really wanted to befriend Harry.

“Yeah, we should hang out or something” you agreed quickly.

“Great, I will call you soon…”

“I’ll be waiting. And Harry?”

“Yes, darling?’

“Thank you for everything”

“You thanked each day. I know…”

You hung up with a big big big smile.

…

Three weeks later, life inverted, in the most twisted and unexpected way.

You had declined each call from Harry Castillo, you were with a confectioner to get a dress for Lucy’s wedding with John. And you were six weeks pregnant.

It all started the weekend after Harry called. You have a cozy Saturday alone at your apartment and decided to have wine. It tasted great but you felt odd. And the next morning, the nauseous feeling started.

Two negative pregnancy tests later, you still felt sick. So you started ignoring Harry until you knew with certain details if you were pregnant or not.

Turns out you were, you needed thousands of vitamins to have a healthy pregnancy and apparently a husband or at least a boyfriend. You didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t even know if Harry deserved to know.

In Iceland, you saw how he placed the condom each time he was about to fuck you. Each time he trusted you, you wished he wasn’t wearing a condom so you could feel better that delicious vein his cock had. What was the point then?

It didn’t make sense. But there was a creature that didn’t even look like a fetus yet inside your womb.

When Lucy came to your place with the news that she was getting married to John, you genuinely felt happy for her. But even better for John because you knew him since you were a teenager and he was a great man, only that he needed to get a better job.

Lucy asked you to be her bridesmaid and you couldn’t say no. Because for the first time, you felt light while being with her, you couldn’t ruin things. So you didn’t tell her you were pregnant.

And horror of horrors, the day of the wedding, when you were ready with your bridesmaid grey dress while trying to get a cab, you found Harry leaning against a ridiculously expensive car, his driver ready to any command of his.

The color in your face drained. You gripped your purse tightly. He was wearing a suit and looked sad.

“You look very pretty” was the first thing he said, almost making your eyes grow wet.

“Harry…” you said.

“I called…”

“I know” you admitted with shame.

“Then why you didn’t answer any of my calls?”

“I’ve been sick” his expression changed, from dissatisfaction to worried.

“What? Are you okay? Is it serious?”

“No, uh… anemic breakdown and a meltdown combined” It wasn’t a complete lie. You were anemic and you had a meltdown. You were only skipping the part of Harry’s child growing inside you.

“I’m truly sorry. I know it was stupid but-“

“Hey, it’s okay. But you worried me, next time you tell me. Talk to me, I can’t cook but I’ll try and I can get you the best medicine”

Your eyes finally grew wet, but you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I wish I could hug you right now”

“You can hug me, I don’t like love, but I’m human, dear”

You crashed into his arms and called it pregnancy hormones, but you kept holding Harry so dearly that you forgot about so many things while doing so. Except that, you felt worse for keeping the most important thing from him.

“We’re good then. And why are you so nicely dressed, little lady?” The nickname made you punch his arm as he made you spin around once to pay attention to your dress.

“Lucy is getting married” you revealed.

Harry couldn’t hide his shock.

“Really? With that actor?” He asked with pure curiosity. “What was his name? Uh-“

“John…” you told him and he nodded. “They’ll have a communal wedding and I’m the bridesmaid”

Harry subtly looked up and down at you, he was relieved to hear that you were not actually avoiding him. It was so weird that he was actually interested in you when he never pursued young women.

And it felt even better to not really care about Lucy’s love life.

“Can I take you to the wedding then?” He asked with a gorgeous spark in his eyes.

You weren’t sure if it was the best idea, but you couldn’t say no at that moment.

“Yes, you can” Then he opened the door of his car for you and the ride was comforting. You easily avoided sharing too many details about your sickness with Harry, but it didn’t mean you weren’t slowly feeling anxious about the whole issue.

When he dropped you at the place, you just couldn’t tell Harry to leave.

“We are going to have a little party at Lucy’s mother’s place upstate after the wedding. Do you want to come?” You asked feeling shy and small. He could’ve easily rejected you but he only smirked and started walking you toward the entrance, offering his arm,

“If Lucy and John have no problem. Then yes…”

“I hope not…’ but you knew it could get a little awkward.

And so it did, the moment Lucy appeared in a simple but beautiful wedding gown along with John, the smiles dropped when they looked at Harry.

“What did I miss?” She asked as she hugged you briefly.

“Uh, I wanted to say it sooner. But we’re…” In fact, you were clueless about your status with Harry. But soon he answered for you.

“We’re seeing each other,” Harry said, gently squeezing your arm. It took you by surprise and a little smile appeared on your face.

“She’s barely out of college” Lucy commented, sounding a little too judgemental.

“I know, she works at NYU” Harry answered, not feeling threatened at all.

So cynical, but polite and confident. That was Harry trying to not let the tension escalate between him and Lucy.

“And that’s great. If they get along, that’s also great. Right, Lucy?” John also tries to lighten the mood.

As Lucy was still eyeing Harry, you started to feel nervous. So John, took you by the arm.

“Hey, y/n. Why don’t you pick our seats?” You nodded immediately, but you didn’t want to let go of Harry, until you looked up at him and he offered a warm smile with a tilt, urging you to go with John.

“If you break her heart-“ Lucy starts, pointing at Harry with defiance.

“You know I won’t” he interrupted her.

And the truth was that Harry had so many points in his favor.

“Fine, go and sit with her”

…

It was a beautiful and humble party in a modest house. You remembered a few Christmass spent at that house: blue with white facades and too many flowers.

You forgot about a lot of Lucy’s family, and seeing them again was nice. She genuinely looked happy and relaxed. You knew she quit her job as a matchmaker and was trying to simply help plan weddings.

And it resulted in curious how hers was so light, classic, and homely.

Harry seemed to get along with the party, you wondered if he would feel like an outcast since it wasn’t a luxurious wedding, and it surprised you that he embraced humility as if he wasn’t part of the richest families in New York.

“So… you and Harry?” Lucy asked as soon as she appeared to take a seat beside you.

You sighed, nodding while watching Harry dancing with Lucy’s grandmother.

“I mean, I don’t know if we’re a thing but… is something”

“How couldn’t you tell me?” It was unsure if she was just curious or resented, but you wished it was just doubt and shock.

“I- I don’t know, it just happened”

“You’re aware that he’s older, avoidant and dominant. Right?”

“Lucy, I’m well aware of that. It’s not like I’m marrying him” Suddenly you felt irritated by his accusing tone. And you didn’t want to fight but as she kept bombarding you with comments, you started feeling anxious.

“Oh, you would. With all the materialist things he can get you. You’d hardly be willing to leave him…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucy finally snapped out of it, she realized she was getting on your nerves.

“You can never be happy for me, it’s always judge and judge and judge. My god, Lucy, just let me live the way I want!”

“…y/n” Lucy grabbed your hand, placing the free one on your cheek.

“You’re pale. Are you okay?” She asked with worry.

At that moment you realized your hands were turning numb, your vision was getting blurred and you could only hear a pitch, Lucy’s voice sounding distant.

Then nausea started its way through your chest and throat.

“My blood pressure is dropping”

Lucy yelled, calling for John.

Lucy’s mother, John, and Harry gathered around you.

You couldn’t see well but you knew Harry was right there, telling you to breathe and asking for water for you.

“Is she sick?” John asked, fanning you.

“Maybe she’s dehydrated” Lucy commented, debating whether to call for an ambulance.

You looked very pale and you couldn’t even lift your hands anymore.

“Dear, Are you pregnant?” Lucy’s mother asked you with a relaxed voice.

You distantly heard her and started nodding.

“You got my sister pregnant?” Lucy started screaming at Harry. John was trying to calm her and the rest of the guests were looking at each other in confusion.

“Harry, get her inside the house, please” Lucy’s mother had always been nice to you, despite not getting along with yours, she was always kind and soft-spoken to you.

You barely felt Harry carrying you all the way from the backyard to the living room of the house.

…

The sound of water being poured finally made a return to reality.

Harry handed you a cold glass of water and you thanked him.

“Do you feel a little better?” you only nodded, looking for any sign of anger from him. But Harry looked calm, he got on his knees, facing you and looking so deeply into your eye that sent shivers through your spine.

“Is it true? You’re actually pregnant and is mine?”

“I- Yes…” you admitted, lowering your head.

‘And you weren’t going to tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure. I don’t even know if I’m having it…”

“How far are you?” His eyes felt heavy on your still flat stomach, with no specific emotion on his face.

“About six weeks…” the air felt thicker but not suffocating.

Harry remained calm, making it harder for you to understand what he was feeling.

“Harry, I don’t want to ruin anything. I really like you and I enjoy your company. This was an accident…”

“A one-of-a-kind accident,” he said, and his attempts to joke, made you feel less stressed out.

The condoms were fine. But he didn’t doubt some had a defect. That’s why only dated women who were on birth control. But… he couldn’t judge you, you were in your right to stay out of it. In fact, Harry admired you for opposing it, but it came with a great cost. And for some reason, he couldn’t be angry.

He was not getting any younger, his mother would hate the idea of him getting a woman pregnant before putting a ring on her finger. But he liked the idea.

“I’ll respect whatever you choose to do. But I’d like you to keep it, let’s have a kid. I promise we’re going to be fine”

Finally, you felt like you could breathe again. Not really because you desired to become a mom. Or because you wanted to tie Harry to you. But because now you had an answer. It was your time to choose.

“Are you sure?” You asked leaning forward, very few inches of distance between you and Harry.

“Yeah, I am,” he said before caressing your cheek. “I’m going to take care of you so well, darling”

Lucy saw the exchange from afar, from the sprint door his mother had in the kitchen. She found herself smiling. And accepting her maths was once again wrong. You and Harry Castillo made a match.

…

[ First Trimester]

The whole place smelled like chicken broth. You were drinking hot hibiscus tea while flipping through a fashion magazine.

“Holy fuck…” you heard from the kitchen. At first, it startled you but then, you started chuckling.

“Are you okay there?”

“Everything is fine, sweetheart”

Harry was attempting to cook for you. You were three months pregnant, he was coming at least three times per week to see you. But when you faced a whole entire week of nausea and vomiting, he stayed the whole week.

Slowly, you were getting used to having him in your life. The only bad thing was that you two had never defined the relationship. And you weren’t desperate to do so, but it was odd whenever an old lady asked if you were Harry’s wife.

“Dinner is ready…” Harry announced.

You made it to the kitchen and he had placed two bowls of chicken broth along with cranberry juice glasses. You stared at the scene in awe.

“We can order delivery if you don’t like it”

“No! Harry, don’t! It smells great!” you reassured him, caressing his hand.

He would never pressure you. But as Harry saw you slurping at the soup and engaging in whatever conversation he brought up, he wanted to make you consider marriage.

He was growing too comfortable with you.

He wasn’t in love and doubted he’d ever be. But felt nice, having a couple without a facade.

…

[ Second Trimester ]

Hospitals made you uneasy. Not even clinics were as terrifying as big white sanitizer-smelling hospitals. But there you were leaning in a cold bed with Harry sitting beside you.

It was the fifth-month appointment and so far, everything seemed to be going well. The nausea stopped and so the hormones became overproduced. You started staying some days at Harry’s penthouse and he got you a full maternity lingerie wardrobe to wear for him. It was silly, but you two had so much fun despite not being an ordinary couple. The relationship was still undefined, but it was too good, so you avoided the subject as much as he did.

“Alright, parents. Are we ready to know the sex of the baby? Or would you like to print the results?” The nice old doctor asked.

Harry and you exchanged looks before smiling at each other, nodding at the same time.

“We’d like to know now…” you said at the doctor. She was one of the best in New York and Harry easily got you an appointment with her during the second month of the pregnancy.

“Alright then… Let’s see” the cold gel in your womb almost made you squirm. But the warm touch of Harry’s hand on your shoulder relaxed you.

Through the echography, you start to see faint parts of the baby’s body. The head, what seemed like an arm and leg, and then… you squeezed Harry’s hand.

“It’s a girl, congratulations!” The doctor yelled. “I’ll go print some pictures and then I’m back to clean your belly.

You smiled again, and then Harry leaned closer, kissing your cheek.

“You heard that, baby? We’re having a girl…” Harry whispered in your ear, making you blush and caress his knuckles.

You were becoming addicted to him. But you knew it had to be the pregnancy playing with your emotions.

…

[ Third Trimester ]

Charlotte; Harry’s sister-in-law offered and insisted on throwing you a baby shower. You couldn’t say no, but you warned her how you wanted to be a casual party with no storks and sandwiches and games.

And it worked out.

She rented a rooftop that felt like a dream despite not being too ostentatious. There was pink everywhere, but it wasn’t blinding. People congratulated you and Harry and constantly asked if you two would get married. Others are reserved to compliment your outfit. You picked a sundress with comfortable heels, curled hair, and orange makeup. Your belly popped out weeks ago, and by the time of the baby shower, you were seven months pregnant.

And you were scared. Not because your due date was approaching, but because you were utterly in love with the father of your baby.

The sickening love knocked at your door and didn’t seem to want to leave.

Harry looked gorgeous as ever, he was in dress pants in sand color with a salmon pink shirt. He was proud of being babygirl father-to-be. And that was one of the many reasons that made you feel like you couldn’t live without him.

The cake was cut and some guests had already left, but there was a song from The Ronettes that Harry and you loved, so he asked if you wanted to dance with him.

“Charlotte outdid herself with this shower” you commented while placing your head on Harry’s chest.

“She did. Everything was nice…”

“Pink suits you” you dared to tell him, which made him laugh.

“Really? I never wear pink. But I’m getting used to it” his comment made your heart flutter.

“Same for me” you admitted.

“Be for real, baby. Everything fits you…”

“Even this bump between us?” The hand on your shoulder came to rest on your belly.

“That only makes it more special” Your smile was overflowing.

And just when he said that the baby kicked.

Harry felt it and sighed in disbelief. He couldn’t believe he was going to ask Lucy to marry him.

After you, nothing would ever top the feeling of having a woman like you in his life. And to your luck, he was also scared to be falling in love with you.

…

You were late. Harry was about to call you to see if everything was okay, and then you knocked on his door.

“Why are you sweating so much?” Harry asked upon opening the door.

“I came all the way here from my place walking?” you revealed and Harry huffed in disbelief.

“Are you insane? Why would you do that? You’re pregnant, y/n!” Harry pushed you inside his penthouse.

“Harry, I’m being too lazy, I can’t even hit my usual gym routine anymore”

“You’re insane. My baby girl must be so tired” You grew accustomed to having him kissing your bump whenever you two reunited after days of not seeing each other.

“Your baby girl was screaming, begging for a trip”

“When she’s at least four months old, I’m taking my girls to Malaysia like you always wanted” You wanted to rip your heart out and stop seeing him as the most perfect human being.

You wanted to scream you loved him. But you weren’t sure if Harry broke his boundaries like you did.

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to. You deserve it” Slowly, he dragged you to the kitchen, showing you delivery food bags and a pizza box.

“Now, we’re going to clean you up a little bit and then we’ll have a nice dinner and then watch those horror cases you like to see” he started kissing your neck, aiming at your melting point, you gasped, immediately getting turned on.

“Are you sure getting me cleaned is the first thing we’ll do?” Harry chucked, spinning you to kiss you on the lips.

“I can clean you and have a nice time with you at the same time, doll” It was a promise. He washed your hair and then gave you your head. Great communication, promising goals, nice sex. Harry was able to give you the world even if you ignored his money.

…

The moment you felt the bed wet, you got so embarrassed that you almost cried. But soon you started feeling contractions. The pain is ten times worse than the darkest periods of a year.

You looked at the clock and it was 5:00 am, Harry soon was awake as well.

“Are you okay?” He asked, yawning before sitting to take a better look at you.

You wanted to answer, but you let out a big moan of pain.

“No… I think she’s coming today, Harry” he stood up only to come around the bed and sit beside you. “Harry, it hurts too much!”

“Hey hey, baby. Look at me please” You struggle, but you do as he says. “Breathe, just like in the courses we took. Breathe…”

Trying to find some peace, you sigh, holding his hands and expecting the pain to pass.

“You can do this. You will bring our babygirl today and it’s going to be fine” You start nodding with tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

It’s too much happening at the same time. But there is your Harry holding onto you and urging you to keep going at the same time.

You need to tell him. To say-

“I love you” both of you say at the same time.

…

June, June, June, June…

That was all you could say. Over and over again. Ever since you woke up, she was already dressed in a pink onesie with an embroidered duck and gloves covering her tiny hands.

She had a head full of golden hair and had the same kind of eyes as Harry. She was born in the evening and smelled so unique that made you kiss her temple over and over again.

The moment you pushed her out of your body, you fell asleep and the rest of the day was blurry.

“She’s perfect. Isn’t she?” You asked the following morning. Harry hugged you from behind, feeling your body covered in bandages.

“And she smells perfect” Harry replied, feeling your body against his. You threatened to get surgery if your body didn’t return to normal after a year of giving birth. But Harry reassured you that he would love you no matter what.

“Here…” Harry offered you an envelope and it made you frown.

June was asleep, her soft breathing making you look at her like being under a spell. But Harry was still your core shaker. You opened the envelope and gasped in surprise.

Three tickets to go to Malaysia in the fall.

“Harry…” before you could speak, he hushed you.

“One thing in exchange…”

“Yes, dear?”

“Marry me” he told you with a big smile on his face.

Your cheeks burnt and you started giggling, only to end up crashing in his arms and kissing him all over his face.

“Sure”

“Sure that’s all you’ll say?”

“What else do you want me to say?” He rolled his eyes and hugged you tightly against his chest.

“God, I love you”

“June and I love you too, Harry” you assured him, hearing his heartbeats.

“So much?”

“Maybe a little too much, baby” you concluded.

_________________________________________

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