#you know i pushed it down really quick without properly like. Dealing with or processing it

[wisebillygaysex]

head hurts

[wri0thesley]

Hello Nat! It's me! The same anon who sent the Househusband Risotto asks a few weeks ago. Could I request a fic of Risotto with no.21(a Househusband au) and some pregnancy fluff? Congrats on 5k (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

brand new - risotto x reader

you have something to tell your husband. 

warnings: soft fluff, sfw. afab reader, no pronouns. pregnancy, talk of children, brief allusions to risotto’s past life. 

You’re surprised by just how easily Risotto falls into a domestic life.

You’d thought that his past would haunt him more; the fallen comrades, the Mafia business, the blood on his hands – but he’s surprisingly pragmatic about it, when you hesitantly bring it up.

“It happened,” he says. “I miss them. But I’ve been given a chance that they didn’t get, and I intend to take it.”

It’s more than your stoic, quiet husband usually says at once, and you feel it pierce your heart like an arrow. Your hand brushes over his broad shoulder in as much comfort as you can give him, and Risotto looks at you with the lightest smile on his lips that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the whole universe.

Risotto becomes the house-husband as if he’s been waiting to be able to do it for his whole life.

Oh, he makes some mistakes – some little things, like washing a pair of your red underwear in with some shirts that you wear for work. Planting the wrong kind of seedlings at the wrong time of year – trying to fix the plumbing himself instead of calling a plumber.

You two muddle along, but as a whole Risotto seems to be thriving, and that makes your heart leap in your chest like a prima ballerina.

Your heart thumps double when you come home after a long day of work and he already has dinner simmering on the stove, an apron wrapped around his broad frame – it’s emblazoned with the legend; “Hot Stuff Coming Through (and I don’t mean the food)”. You breathe in the scent of his cooking; something deep and rich.

You come up behind him and wrap your arms about him, resting your cheek on the centre of his back.

His muscle has gone a little soft now that he’s not working out so often or in as many life-or-death situations, but he’s still broad and amazing and perfect for holding onto.

“Smells great,” you say, sighing, kicking off your heels in kitchen to be put away later. Risotto’s eyes stray to them all higgledy-piggledy on the floor, and he frowns;

“Nonna’s recipe,” he says. “Aren’t you going to put those in the shoe rack?”

“I’ve only just gotten home,” you pout at him, but your pout quickly breaks into a smile as you see the exhaustedly fond expression on his face.

Now that he’s not an assassin – now that he doesn’t need to hide everything he’s feeling under the guise of being cool and cold and collected – Risotto’s face seems to move more. He finds it easier to express his emotions. It’s still little things; twitches and furrows, instead of his entire face transforming – but it’s more than before.

He’s comfortable. He’s happy.

You, and him, and the little world that you’ve build all around you two.

You bend over to pick up your heels, opening your mouth to say something over-dramatic about his newfound house pride – but you’re stopped by an ache that shoots down to the centre of your back, a noise of pain escaping you before Risotto can turn lightning quick and wrap a strong arm around you.

“Are you alright?” He’s asking, brow creasing slightly in concern. Panic flares in your stomach – you don’t want to tell him like this.

“Y-yeah,” you laugh it off, straightening up with your shoes in your hand, the other going to massage your back where you can reach. “Guess I was just sat in the wrong position at work for too long, huh?”

Risotto looks sceptical, but he can’t leave his boiling pots for too long. With a searching look at you, he returns to the stove, murmuring low;

“I’ll give you a massage later.”

You smile at his back as you walk towards the shoe rack in the hallway. You know that saying that will have made him blush; despite how long the two of you have been married now, he’s still nervous about things like that. His hands still shake a little when he goes to hold you. He still licks his lips before he kisses you, murmuring in a deep voice;

“Is it really alright?”

You always wind your arms around his neck and pull him in as your way of reassuring him that it’s perfectly fine. It’s hard, you think, for him to accept that he deserves all of this – but you’re eternally glad that the two of you get to share it together.

Little reminders of your shared home and life are scattered all about your home. A picture of you and Risotto at your wedding, framed and hung in the hallway; his suit is a little too tight, because he left it too long and it couldn’t be tailored properly to address the fact that he’s built like a superhero.

A bookshelf that has your romantic novels next to his own gothic horrors; a skull candle that burns red from its eyes as it melts perched on top. Also perched on top is a trinket dish that he made and painted for you at a pottery class he attended to try and get him out of the house whilst you were at work – you use it to dump your keys in.

It’s supposed to be a heart shape, but it’s more of a very uneven kidney.

The carpet you two had chosen together; you’d wanted something cheaper, but Risotto had insisted you could afford this one – he’d been right, and it’s soft beneath your stockinged feet.

You love him so much.

Your hand cups your stomach protectively now that you’re out of Risotto’s sight. You think of the tiny life inside of you; half Risotto, half you, already loved more than they’ll ever know even without Risotto knowing that it’s there. You can’t wait to tell him.

His hands are gentle on your shoulders, big and warm and softer than they once were. They’re still a little calloused from the garden work he enjoys doing, but he no longer handles weapons and you buy him sandalwood-scented hand cream instead.

They feel so good as they slide down your shoulder blades, brushing the notches of your spine, soothing circles pressed into your skin with his thumb. You sigh, relaxing into him. The feel of the palm flat against the small of your back – where the ache is the most pronounced – makes you relax even further into him, toes curling, a sigh escaping your mouth of relief.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He asks you, his voice measured. Your eyes flicker open from where they’ve closed in comfort.

“W-what’s wrong?” You ask him, nervously, and Risotto makes an ‘mm’ noise in the back of his throat. His hands do not stop the massage as he goes.

“You’ve been out of it for days,” he tells you.

(He’s right. You’ve been out of it since Monday, and it’s now Thursday; Monday is the day you’d woken up with your stomach heaving, remembered how long it had been since your last period, and bought a pregnancy test on your way to work. You’ve done three more since then, and all of them have showed the exact same result.)

“Have I?”

His hands move to your shoulders, gently twisting you around.

“You have,” he says, his red-and-dark eyes fixed firmly on you. “If there’s something wrong, I’d like to fix it.”

“It’s nothing you’ve done!” You say, all in a rush, but Risotto has successfully caught you nonetheless; his eyes narrow.

“So it is something?”

Heat rushes to your face. You forget, sometimes, because he cooks dinner and does the gardening and goes to his pottery class, that he was a battle-hardened mafia assassin who has done more interrogations than you will probably ever know (you never bring up his former employ unless he brings it up first). He’s an expert at gently needling the truth out of people.

“It’s not something that’s wrong,” you say, weakly, but his eyes are still pinning you in place.

“Tell me,” is all he says.

You think, in the back of your head, you’d had some kind of grand plans to reveal your secret – maybe involving balloons, and a cake, and a little party hat perched on top of Risotto’s silvery pale hair. You think you wanted to make a big deal out of it; one more reminder that the world he left behind is well and truly in his past now. But now you’re on the bed with him and he’s looking at you so tenderly in a soft grey shirt for sleeping and a pair of loose boxer shorts, all ruffled and sleepy and domestic . . . Now feels like a good time too.

“I’m pregnant,” you tell him.

You swear that you could hear a pin drop.

He blinks at you, as if he can’t properly process the statement.

“You’re—”

“We’re having a baby.”

“Oh my God.” His voice is very small. He reaches out, hesitantly, eyes wide – big hand hovering over your stomach. “Can I . . .?”

“Yes,” you say, breathless as his hand rests on it. It’s not curving, yet; the fancy test you’d bought today and done in the bathroom at work had said it thought you were well past three weeks, but that’s still early days. Your eyes stare down at Risotto’s scarred, huge fingers – so careful with you, despite what he’s had to do to survive.

“I can’t believe it,” he tells you, and your throat feels tight.

“Me neither,” you admit. “But . . . I’m happy.”

He meets your eyes. There are tears brimming in his – you have never seen Risotto Nero cry. You’ve seen him sad, of course (a sad downturn to his mouth when a dog dies in a movie, or when the rosebush he’d been carefully cultivating had failed to achieve a single bloom) – but there’s an actual tear rolling down his cheek, sparkling in the bedroom light.

“Me too,” he says, and it seems entirely natural. Entirely true. Your heart aches with how much you love him.

You two don’t say anything for a few minutes, content to just look at each other, the warm knowledge of what you’re sharing making the air seem hazy and unreal.

You think about the pitter patter of little feet. The spare room you can turn into a nursery. Going to pre-natal classes with Risotto, choosing baby clothes, seeing him out and about pushing a fancy perambulator (you’ve always wanted one of those tacky, over the top ones that look like a Victorian nanny’s contraption, and you know that Risotto will agree to it--).

You think about him in the delivery room, your nails making crescent moon cuts in his palm. You think about his encouraging tone; you think about the hand-grown flowers he’ll no doubt bring you.

You imagine him cradling a little bundle of joy; tiny in his huge arms. His lips leaving gentle kisses on tiny foreheads. Him reading to your baby, him tending to scrapes, him and you and your child and the life that neither of you ever thought you’d get to live together.

His face is shining, fully transformed. He sees you looking at him with droplets shimmering in your tear ducts and he wipes them away with one big, warm thumb.

“I know,” he says. “It’s not just for me. It’s for all of them, too.”

“Yes,” you say to him. Your voice breaks, pitches, as you manage to get out: “I’m so happy we get to spend the rest of our lives together.”

He looks at you, so tender you feel like you’ll come apart under his gaze.

This moment is going to shimmer in your memory forever, you think. You’re glad that this was how the reveal went. This is much more like the two of you than any fancy reveal or ribbon or cake (you might still get a cake, anyway – Risotto has a sweet tooth).

“I love you,” he says, like warmth that wraps about your heart. And then; “What about naming it Formaggio?”

There’s a beat. You stare at him.

Both of your mouths stretch into a smile, a soft huff of laughter escaping his lips that makes you feel like you’re listening to a symphony.

“Maybe we should workshop names a bit more,” you tell him.

He agrees.

[bokutoslittlebird]

The Perfect Family

Alpha!Bokuto x Beta!reader x Beta!Akaashi

Author’s Note : If you’ve read the little drabbles and asks with the fluffy BokuAka family, then you’re in for a surprise. Those were not canon to the actual works I created, it was just something nice to write and think about. This will not start off fluffy at all. This will also include the pregnancy process, so be warned of that ; This is a sequel to my Kinktober piece, Threesome with Bokuto and Akaashi ; I’m so sorry it took for fucking ever

Warnings: Omegaverse, noncon/dubcon (explicit use of the word r*pe), gun play, choking, water torture (attempted drowning), gaslighting, manipulation, watersports (briefly, kind of), mindbreak, dumbification, pregnancy, creampie(s), asphyxiation, lactation, knotting, breeding (technically), degradation

Kōtarō’s rut had finally ended, pumping you full and fucking you into a stupor, all while Keiji made sure to have him give you a break. It was the week for you and Kōtarō to catch up, after all. You were bonded to Kōtarō and Keiji now, you were their mate, so you had to be taken care of. With the stinging pain on your shoulder from Kōtarō’s mark, you were only missing the legal document to bind you to Keiji the normal, Beta way. Keiji was currently thinking about which ring to get you, since Kōtarō had already decided on his “proposal” gift. Keiji figured you’d need time to adjust, however, as he was laying on the couch with Kōtarō’s arms wrapped around him, you missing. There was a cute show that they were watching, Keiji was sure you’d like it. You weren’t allowed out of the bedroom yet, so he would have to show it to you another time.

Once Kōtarō had been satisfied and Keiji had recovered, both got to work on making your stay permanent. You attempted to leave, but Keiji was quick to cuff you. Kōtarō held you down, forcing you to struggle until there was nothing left to do except lay there. Kōtarō had to go back to Osaka soon, so he was trying to enjoy his last few days in Tokyo.

“That was a fun show. Cute, too,” his yawning interrupted his sentence, cutting it short. Keiji nodded in response, snuggling closer to Kōtarō. The Alpha was warm and comfortable, it gave him a sense of home. “I gotta go back tomorrow, Akaashi,”

“I know, Bokuto-san,” Keiji sighs, knowing he’d have to work on their new pet by themselves. It was going to be a struggle. At the beginning of the week, you were so pliant and easily coerced into things. Now, you wouldn’t look or talk to them. Kōtarō threw a fit yesterday, screaming and crying because you weren’t the same person, you were much more distant. It’s the same when it comes to Keiji, however. You only looked at him with betrayal and sadness, even then only looking at him briefly. You exhausted yourself, but you were fighting them. Distancing yourself and giving them the silent treatment. It made Kōtarō not want to leave, you being so upset at him, but he didn’t have a choice.

Kōtarō needed to find a new place for everyone to live, of course. With the high probability of you becoming pregnant, you couldn’t be living in Tokyo, hours away from your alpha. Knowing you would be carrying his pups without him around had Kōtarō growling, Keiji gently patting his arm. Kōtarō calmed down at that, indulging in the calming scent of Keiji. Keiji has already been bonded to him, so it wouldn’t be as stressful if he wasn’t bonded — you were both his mates and therefore, you could be trusted in Keiji’s care. It was still hard to go. He didn’t want to leave with the state you were in.

“What place were you thinking about?” Keiji mused, running his finger in a pattern on Kōtarō’s arm. Just something to do as he mentally planned for the upcoming weeks. The type of house would determine how long those weeks would be.

“Some place big, but close by the gym and practice gym. Maybe traditional? I’ve always wanted to live in a traditional, zen kind of house,” Kōtarō’s eyes lit up as he talked, images and scenes of a large house full of his lovers and his children, playing volleyball in the yard. Keiji smiles at that, knowing it would be at least a month. Enough time to have you positively pregnant and to get you settled into your new role. It’d take effort, of course it would, but he could do it.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Bokuto-san,”

“Ya know, we really gotta get used to calling each other by our given names. You’re gonna be a Bokuto, aren’t’cha?”

“Well, of course I am. Just like [Y/N]. We’ll be the Bokuto family,” he sighs, closing his eyes as the name settles in his mind. The Bokuto family has a nice ring to it, he thinks.

Kōtarō spends his last night cuddling you to sleep. You want no part of it, lying stiff as a board as he presses kisses to your neck and rubs his hand over your stomach. It’s a sickening thought, the possibility of getting pregnant. If you really had been ovulating during the rut, you most likely were pregnant. It’s not like you’d know or not, you barely leave the bed to urinate. It’s disgusting to have to deal with, but even when you do get the bathe and do your business, Keiji is right next to you, ready to intervene if necessary. Although Kōtarō is often in there with you, lathering up your body as his touches become less innocent, Keiji’s stone-cold gaze forces you to not attempt anything silly.

When the morning comes, Kōtarō is desperate to keep something of yours until he can see you again. In order to keep him happy, you acquiesce to his demands and let him take your used clothes, yet to be washed. As if the lingering scent of the morning sex isn’t still clinging to his skin. You can’t smell it, nor Keiji, but you know it’s there as you watch him dress himself, tucking himself away as he rambles on about his plans for the future. Three kids for him, two for Keiji, a nice big house, just the ideal lifestyle for anyone. It’ll never happen, though. His delusions will soon shatter when you stay distant and refuse to love him or Keiji.

Keiji waves goodbye to you, saying he’ll come back when he’s done with work. He plans on taking Kōtarō to the train station and then going to work, so you’ll be stuck for the next few hours. Until dinner time, that is. After an hour, you hear a ping from your phone and reach over to look at it. You can still use your phone, of course, but any possibility of calling for help is useless. In this society, nobody would help you. Not only that, your phone is bugged and linked to Keiji’s. He knows when you unlock your phone, what you do at what time, and how long you’re on it. You’re almost positive he can shut it off if he wants to.

The noise is a message from Kōtarō, telling you he misses you already. A roll of the eyes as you lock it, setting it beside you again. You’re able to barely reach the table beside the bed, but none of the drawers. One hand is secured to the headboard, wooden and strong enough to withstand Kōtarō’s ruthless rut. You feel restless as the day has only begun, the next time you will be able to move out of the bed, if at all, will be when Keiji comes home.

The doorknob to the apartment jiggles, making you jump. Keiji should’ve gone to work, so the sudden noise was unexpected. When it finally turns, you expect to see the familiar hair of your former friend, the tousled raven hair and the broad build. Although the man has the proper stature, the hoodie covering his head and the cheap-looking mask covering his face prevent you from properly identifying him. You can’t tell if he’s smirking or not, the intense feeling that he’s giving off tells you he is. With your hand secured to the bed, you really don’t have much in the way of options. The phone is still an option, but you doubt you could get to it in time.

The man lunges towards you, spurring you to attempt to grab the phone. Your fingers brush the metal device before your arm is forcefully gripped and twisted. You scream as your body twists, attempting to lessen the pain. It’s useless, but you still try. When your mouth opens, he quickly shoves something round and hard in it, your tongue pressed against the barrel of the gun.

“Don’t move a muscle,” his voice was low and hoarse, as if he was adjusting it to hide his identity. It was still unfamiliar to you, your brain unable to register what was going on. The man easily overpowers you, using his weight to keep you pinned to the bed. Fear prickles your skin, the chill setting in deep into your bones despite the lingering warmth of the fading Summer heat. It’s a horrible feeling, frozen in fear as your mind races, unable to do anything except stay still. It’s horrible, the fact you listen to the stranger’s demands despite wishing you were dead and out of Kōtarō and Keiji’s grasps. The gun is removed from your mouth, but the knowledge of it being in his possession is enough to keep you compliant, barely acknowledging the man’s hands moving to slip under the dress you were kindly given.

To keep yourself ready and easily accessible to both Keiji and Kōtarō until they had to part, it was best to slip you into a plain and simple white sundress. It was a present from Kōtarō, a small way of saying you were his now. With the lack of panties or other undergarment, you were essentially naked to the intruder as he sat on his heels, dark eyes scanning over your form. You were shaking from the fear, the unknown, but you weren’t attempting to move or thrash about. It was so easy to take advantage of you, you already nice and wet for him, too. The slick buildup from the morning session with Kōtarō lingers, as well as the creamy substance of his seed fucked into you. Unless the intruder was an Alpha, he couldn’t do much damage, but the thought of leaving you alone without a touch, a taste, was too unbearable.

It didn’t take long for the feeling of something hard and thick to push against your folds, collecting slick and teasing, your sensitivity making you whimper at the touch. It was a sudden plunge, forcing himself deep into your cunt as he groaned, your walls clenching around him. You thought the groan sounded familiar, but there was no more time to think on it when he put his hand on your throat, effectively shutting off proper access to your lungs. Your walls tighten again around him, him finding it hard to retract his hips but thrusting back in. His pace isn’t too fast, but his thrusts are brutal as he continues to drive his cock into your sensitive and abused pussy. He’s not an Alpha, you can tell by the lack of an inflating knot, but it still remains that you’re being violated by an unknown man. The whimpers coming from your throat are all you can release, barely sucking in air to stay conscious. When your vision starts to fade, the man and the walls of the room slowly blurring together, you start to panic.

The gun is still beside you, but it’s not your concern. The bullet in the chamber can’t threaten you unless the barrel’s against your head, but the hand currently cutting off oxygen is threatening your life. Attempting to dig your nails into the fabric of the hoodie is useless, his work gloves keeping his hands from getting any marks, either. Your lungs burn from lack of air and your vision slowly fades to black, a heat and chill settling over your body at the same time as you continue to feel his body pinning you down. The brutal fucking is the only sensation you still have, the stinging of your skin as he snaps his hips to meet yours and the squelching sounds from your sloppy pussy, cum and slick spurting and coating his cock as he chases his own high. You don’t know if he finished inside, your sensations dying out as you slip into unconsciousness.

When you wake up, your lungs ache and your face feels wet. When you flutter your eyes open, you’re faced with the creamy beige walls of Keiji’s bedroom, the lamp and phone on the bedside table. A presence is beside you, a large hand gently brushing your hair. Your eyes widen as you jolt, Keiji gently shushing you as he holds you. It’s comforting, someone familiar beside you after the experience you just had. You don’t know what happened after everything went black, but the smell of Keiji’s morning coffee and his cologne calm you down, tears spilling out as your fists bunch up the fabric of his shirt.

“I had a bad feeling, so I immediately came back home. I didn’t expect you to be completely unconscious, what did you do?” He asked, oblivious to what had really transpired. It was painful to recall, the fear from before rising again as you remember the man’s stature, looming over you as he pinned you to the bed. Another fit of tears come, the droplets soaking the white of Keiji’s shirt. “Darling, you need to tell me what’s wrong. What-“

“A stranger,” a hiccup interrupted you, red and tired eyes looking to his face. He looks confused, so you need to press on. “He broke in. Violated me. He— he ra-“

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. If I had known something so horrible would happen, I wouldn’t have left you all alone. You could’ve come with me, but you’ve been so naughty, you know,” his voice is gentle, but there’s a certain chill in his voice that has your fear spiking. His hands are warm, caressing your back as he speaks. “But, you know, you cheated on Bokuto-san and I. I have to punish you,”

“I— I didn’t do it on purpose!” Why were you defending yourself? Your mind had to momentarily adjust itself, the feeling of helplessness from earlier now back. Once the cuff had released the headboard, it was nothing for Keiji to force you into the bathroom. No amount of strength you had could compare to him, nor height. He wasn’t afraid to hurt you either, almost smashing your fingers in the door frame because you wouldn’t let go. “Akaashi, stop!!”

“Akaashi? Now, we can’t have that. You should address me properly, dear,” he grips your face, smushing your cheeks together as you find yourself practically flung into the tub. It’s already full of hot water, almost scalding, as he holds your head under. Struggling once more, it’s futile. His strength far surpasses yours, stature looming over you. Under the water, his image is distorted, but the way he looks down at you feels familiar. Before that thought can continue, you feel your lungs burning as you thrash again, thoughts only focused on surviving. When your head is pulled up, you gulp air as you cough, water sputtering as you do. “You need to be punished.”

“Let me go, I didn’t do anythi-“ your head is once more under the water, nails digging into the flesh of Keiji’s arms as he holds you still. You didn’t get a good gulp of air, so you’re quickly back at the previous feeling of helplessness as your lungs burn, vision blurring. Before everything goes black, you’re once more pulled from the water. Your face is hot, either from lack of air or the heat of the bathroom and water, you’re not too sure. But Keiji is sure of one thing and that’s the way you’re clinging to him. You were digging your nails into him, squirming and attempting to leave, but now your nails were digging into his as your grip tightened around his forearm. You were clinging to him, unconsciously seeing him as your savior, as he was the one who controlled your ability to breathe, therefore your life. He could drown you if he wanted to, but Kōtarō wouldn’t like that. No, he just needed you to depend on him, change your stance on how you saw your lovers.

Keiji also couldn’t help how delicious you looked, drenched as steam rose from the water, your white dress floating around you as if you were an ethereal being. You looked angelic and untainted... an urge to corrupt you washed over him, compelling his body into the steaming water. It was a tight fit, but he managed. With his sweatpants on, it was easy for him to simply push down the waistband and pull out his cock. “Now I have to cover up that man’s scent, or do you want everyone to know you’re a whore?”

“Akaashi, enough, this isn’t any diff-“

“Are you saying I’m a rapist? That’s what you’re implying, right? If you really think that, then I’ll be that. I would never purposefully hurt you,” his words contradict his actions, his hard cock pressing into your walls as he speaks. Sensitivity still lingers, your legs twitching as he sinks down to the hilt. “You’re saying I’m the bad guy, aren’t you? Well, how about I be the bad guy? Let’s recreate the scenario,”

“Akaashi, please, stop!” You cry out, weak limbs attempting to push him off. Hot, fat tears stream down your cheeks as Keiji licks them away, kissing their trails as you continue to sob at the feeling. It was a horrible feeling, being helpless, but a part of you knew you were safe. Keiji wouldn’t let you die, the only thing that prevented you from putting more effort in. Even with the splashing water, he kept one hand on the back of your head to prevent you from going under. Keiji’s pace is always the same — slow strokes, but deep and meaningful as he rocks his hips into yours and makes sure to roll his hips. It’s a completely opposite of Kōtarō��s, brutal and relentless, but Kōtarō fils you out more. Keiji has to make sure you feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse from his cock and have it completely engraved into your mind.

When Keiji gets close, he holds you closer to him, kissing your neck as your hands grasp at the tub’s edges, mind reeling from the force of your orgasms. Your nerves are on fire, your walls constantly clamping around Keiji’s cock like a vice, all while he rides out his own high. He presses a sweet kiss to the mark on your neck, where it meets your shoulder, right where he sports a matching mark on his own skin. It’s Kōtarō’s bond, what links him to the two of you forever. With a final thrust, Keiji spills deep inside you as he kisses you deeply, forcing you to swallow his moan of pleasure as he swallows your mewls. You’re still tight around him, walls fluttering pathetically around his girth as he relishes in the way you feel, keeping his seed locked inside you.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both panting heavily, chests heaving for different reasons. “There. Now he’s gone,” a gentle kiss on your temple. With those words, a silence settles over the room. Although the stranger may be gone, in his place stands Akaashi Keiji.

The next day, Keiji is home.

“Just a precaution, dear,” he had said. “So nothing else bad will happen to you when I’m not here. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” With those words, he convinced you of his intentions. The previous day’s events had you rattled, the fear of being alone subconsciously rooted into your mind. A small whimper of Keiji’s name, his given name, had him smiling and cooing at you, taking you anywhere in the apartment you wanted to go. It was nice to finally leave the bedroom and bathroom sections, seeing the front room and kitchen, able to hear and see people outside the windows. You dare not let your eyes linger too long on the windows, covered completely with only shadows passing by, nor on the door. The door which had a recently newly installed lock, to take extra precautions. A passing thought of how it seemed to be so quickly enforced comes by, leaving as you become hyper aware of the blank gaze Keiji gives you. It’s not blank, per se. It looks blank to many bystanders, but to you, you know he’s focusing. He’s watching you and analyzing what you do. It’s a test.

A test you seem to have passed, when he calls you back for a bath. He doesn’t guide you there, no threats, just a simple “Come along,” as he walks towards the same bathroom he almost drowned and violated you in. The fear and anxiety of going back has your flight or fight response kicking in, the seemingly easy option of flinging the door open and leaving has your legs moving. But Keiji is quicker, stronger, and smarter than you. Before your fingertips can even graze the lock, your face is slammed into the floor.

“You were doing so well, too,” his feet are planted on either side of you, one moving to plant itself on your back. With a bit of force, you’re screaming as he has his heel pushing into your spine. “You deserve to be punished.”

“Fuck you, Akaashi!” You spit, squirming and wriggling to get him off. When his foot moves, you attempt to get up, but soon he drops down and fists your hair in one hand, the other pushing your cheeks together.

“I should wash that dirty mouth of yours,” he growls, shoving your face against the floor. By shoving, he essentially drops you into the floor. With a burning sensation in your nose, you feel a vaguely familiar liquid trickling out, a small red dot beneath you. He does it once more, making sure to keep his hand on your head to prevent you from getting up. “I trusted you to listen to me, [Y/N],”

“I’ll never listen to you,” you declare, hands balling into fists beside you. “I’ll never forgive you and Bokuto for what you did. I’ll never forgive or forget how you raped me, either!”

“I did no such thing. You enjoyed it, whore. You clamped around me like a vice last night, just as you probably did the stranger that violated you. Can it be consider violation if you were wet? What about when you started to enjoy it?”

“How would you know that, unless-“

“I know how much of a slut you can be, sleeping around with Alphas in high school and other Betas. You probably got off on being raped,” He sneers, putting more force in his hand, making it uncomfortable as your cheek is smushed against the floor.

“Fuck you,”

“I’ll take that as a yes. As a punishment, you won’t be leaving that bedroom for some time,” he finally lets you free, a large breath of air inhaled as you realize he was putting his weight on your lungs. “Come here,”

Wrenched from the ground, you find yourself dragged, kicking and screaming, back into the bedroom where Keiji cuffs you to the headboard. He’s huffing, but he manages to get both wrists cuffed to the headboard. Back to square one, with you refusing to acknowledge him while he tries to talk. Well, he does talk, you’re forced to listen.

When dinner time comes around, you expect some plain chicken broth or maybe even water, but instead you’re given nothing. Keiji doesn’t come in the room at all. The water running let’s you know he’s washing dishes, but where’s your meal? When his humming enters the room, you know he’s coming down. When he opens the door, in his hand lays a plate with bread crust and crumbs, along with some pocky sticks. Just two, however. Barely considered a meal. “Dinner!”

“You’re kidding me,”

“Dear, you know I don’t joke around easily. You were naughty this afternoon, so you’re going to eat my leftovers. Bread crust and some stale pocky sticks is the only thing on your menu,”

“I’ll starve instead,” a glare sent his way does frazzle him one bit, instead almost makes him... chippier. As if you’re falling for his well hidden trap. A nod and he’s gone, your only source of food with him. He won’t enter to room again until nighttime, so you’re left to wallow in your own solitude, something you used to take for granted.

When Keiji does finally come into the room, you’re excited to see him before remembering you don’t like him. Instead of taking the key and releasing your restraints to sleep, he grabs his pillow, his blanket, and his phone charger. “Where are you going?”

“Well, since you obviously hate me, I thought it’d be best that I leave you alone. After all, that is what you wanted, yes?” A small smirk is on his face as your eyes widen, thoughts running through your head as he takes his leave. Without a bid goodnight, Keiji leaves you alone in the room. With no possible entertainment except your mind, you feel uneasy. Unsteady. The world is suddenly dropping you off in an empty room with nothing and you can’t think of anything to keep yourself entertained. The television set buzzes to life outside, while the popping of popcorn fills your ears along with the melted butter smell. An urge to move flits around, but you decide it is best to not.

The next day, it’s a similar situation. Within three days of Kōtarō’s leave, you’ve found yourself craving his company more than ever. Keiji is ruthless and merciless, entering the bedroom for clothes and then leaving for work. He doesn’t talk to you, he doesn’t look at you, he barely enters the room anymore. You feel your stomach grumble at the thought of food, your mouth dry from the lack of fluids in your system. A pathetic way to die, one would think. With the lack of nutrition, your body will eventually decay or fall into an unstable state. Keiji isn’t a dunce, he knows this — at least, he should. Why then, you wonder, is he allowing this? Not only are you completely attached to the bed, but you haven’t been able to get up at all, even for bathroom use. The urine has stained the sheets, turning the pristine white cotton into a grimy yellow color, the ammonia stench covering the entire bedroom. You felt like a helpless child, in dire need of your parents to come home.

In a way, that’s what it was. You were helpless and needed someone else’s help. You need Keiji’s help. You can only go so long before you end up breaking, and you’ve reached a limit. The disgusting liquid under you was the final thread, the squelching and squeezing every time your hips move to a different area to attempt to leave the spot resulting in a failed attempt. The white dress was soaked, first from the bathroom incident and now it was dyed yellow due to your own fluids. Kōtarō wouldn’t be happy with those results.

When Keiji finally comes home, you hear him. You hear the door close and a sigh. Waiting for him to enter the room is quickly disregarded as you call for him. With no hesitation, he arrives at the room, looking at you. “You called, darling?”

“Keiji, please. I’m sorry I was bad. I need you, please don’t leave me,” you cry out, pulling on the cuffs. Shushing you, he quickly attends to your wrists, red and raw from the tugging, pulling, and twisting you’ve done over the past day. Once one hand is free from the restraint, he’s happy to feel it grabbing his shoulder, a silent beg to not leave. “Kei-“

“I know, I know. I won’t hurt you,” his words calm you down, sobs turning into hiccups as he guides you off the bed. Your legs are weak, unstable from lack of use, so he bridal carries you into the bathroom, not caring about the urine. After setting you on the toilet, he strips you of your dress and starts the bath. Trusting you to not move, he leaves. Another test, to see if you’ve really shaped up after the last attempt.

Keiji stands in the bedroom, pulling the sheets off the bed and removing the pad. He puts them aside, but waits. No movement from the bathroom, not even the toilet seat squeaking or the shutting off of the water. Continuing to put the sheets and dress away, he picks out a set of panties — new and clean, a treat for being good — to go with the pastel pink sundress. It looks exactly like the other one, except the color. After getting a towel and a change of clothes himself, he leaves.

You’re still sitting on the toilet, looking at him as he enters. Perking up, you push into the hand the caresses your head, brushing the tangled hair. He stops the water, guiding you into the tub. Once you’re settled, he strips down and joins you.

“You’re not going to hurt me?” You ask, voice dull.

“Of course not. When have I ever done that?”

The next day is such an improvement, Keiji can’t help but let Kōtarō know how well you’ve adjusted. You’re compliant out of fear rather than love, but Kōtarō doesn’t know that. He’s so excited to see a picture of you cooking in the kitchen, he probably wouldn’t care. The picture doesn’t capture the longing look at the knives, the fleeting glances at the door, the rigidness of your body as Keiji wraps his arms around you. It’s small gestures, but you never move to accomplish the action. Your finger might twitch, a gulp as you see the unlocked door, but you continue on. You make the noodles, you bring the tray to Keiji, you sit in his lap and allow the arms to secure your place. The food is something you’re ever thankful for, the lack of food spurring your resilience into breaking. With a gentle blow, Keiji feeds you the ramen you dutifully prepared for the both of you all day.

You never looked at the door again. You never looked at the knives unless you were cutting something. Even with Keiji breathing down your neck, eyes focused on your hands, you didn’t twitch or move to hurt him. You went to the bathroom and didn’t complain when he joined you. Even when he had to do his little daily checkup, you didn’t complain. The first time, you mentioned it tickled and questioned what he was doing, sticking his nose between your legs as he pried them open. He just smiled and said he needed to know if you were healthy, to which your questions easily stopped. Although he occasionally swept his tongue over your still wet folds, you never told him to go away and leave you alone. Even when he went further and had put you on the bathroom’s countertop before diving between your legs once more, your fingers thread themselves through his hair as you moaned.

When the news of Kōtarō coming back reached your ears, you didn’t know how to feel. Keiji was the one to help you, give you comfort, so you didn’t feel too excited to see Kōtarō. Keiji knew this would cause problems, as Kōtarō was expecting you to be as loving to him as you were to Keiji. After an explanation of the situation, you promised to perform appropriately for Kōtarō. With a whispered threat of locking you up again, you easily complied with everything you were asked to do. When Kōtarō came through the door, he was easily able to catch you as you jumped on him. “Welcome back!”

“Aw, [Y/N]! I’m glad to be back!” He nuzzled into your neck, indulging in your scent. You could easily pretend to be in love with Kōtarō, but your scent would tell him if you were feeling off. With his superior senses, you had to be forced into a mindset where you did love Kōtarō. Threats and memories of the past had could nodding along, situating yourself into his life easily. “I missed you, a lot,”

“Well, we won’t have to be gone for so long again, right?” You ask, a pout forming. “Or are you going to leave me?”

“Oh, no! You’re gonna live with me,” he grins, a closed eye smile. Your eyes widen as the information is processing, Keiji coming from the kitchen.

“It was a surprise for you. We’ll be moving to Osaka to be close to Bokuto-san,” he’s drying a knife, one he recently finished washing, but it’s also a silent threat. Kōtarō didn’t see the horrified look on your face, but he sure did.

“O-Oh. Okay! I can’t wait, when are we.. when do we move?” Twiddling your fingers, Kōtarō wraps his arms around you once more, effectively picking you up. No hesitating, your legs wrap around his waist as he looks up at your face, love flooding his eyes.

“You’ll move in with me tomorrow. Once Akaashi’s boxed everything up, he’ll join us. Our room is all set up, and there’s lots of rooms for kids. Speaking of-!”

“Another time, Bokuto-san,” Keiji harshly whispered, Kōtarō’s eyes widening before smiling, nodding. You didn’t know what that was, but you then focused on Kōtarō moving to the couch.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving! Maybe I can have something special for dessert, if you know what I mean,” with an added eyebrow wiggle, you shyly smile and nod. It’s what Keiji told you would please Kōtarō. It’s what Keiji told you that you need to do.

The dinner itself is fine, but when you ask to use the restroom, Kōtarō points out the red splotches on your white dress. Panicking, you attempt to locate the spot as your face heats up in embarrassment. Keiji then points out the bit of blood on Kōtarō’s pants, making you think your cycle has started. At that mention, Kōtarō’s growling in anger as you seize up in fear, unsure of what to do. Keiji tells you to change while he deals with Kōtarō, you immediately obeying and going to the bedroom.

“I thought ovulating meant she would get pregnant. Why isn’t she pregnant? Were you wrong?” Kōtarō asks, still angry. He knows he scared you, your lingering scent of fear in the room and around him. He thought he could smell another scent on you, but he didn’t know what it could be.

“Bokuto-san, I know this is frustrating but it’s possible she didn’t get pregnant. However, spotting is a sign of pregnancy. It was only a few drops. If she has anymore blood leakage that gets heavy tonight, we’ll know,” Keiji is able to calm down Kōtarō, who rolls his shoulders back and lies against the back of the couch. “Do you want to change your jeans?”

“Nah, it’s barely noticeable. Plus,” a thumb runs over the denim, Kōtarō licking his lips as his eyes darken, “this is like she’s claiming me, right?”

Kōtarō does not force himself on you that evening. Instead, he just cuddles you that night. It’s a differing touch than Keiji’s, who ends up rolling to the other side of the bed in the night. Kōtarō holds you close and tightly all night, snuggling closer to you, as if it was possible, and nudging his nose in your neck. It’s sweet, you think, as he caresses you like you’re made of glass.

The next morning, Kōtarō has you properly dressed to leave with him. A set of panties, sweatpants, t-shirt, and a hoodie. It’s a casual set of clothes, but they are all you came to Keiji’s house in a week and a half ago. Kōtarō says he’ll get you better clothes once you’re settled in, but you feel uneasy as you bid goodbye to Keiji. He worries about your mental state once you’re alone with Kōtarō, but he just has to hope you’re able to seem stable enough for a day.

In Osaka, you feel like your life is beginning anew. It’s not much different from Tokyo, but as Kōtarō guides you through the streets, it becomes known that Osaka has a lot more greenery. It’s very beautiful, in your opinion. When he stops in front of an old house, you glance at him. “Our new home, sweetheart!” He cheers, kissing your cheek as he picks you up. Carrying you inside the house, you notice the security. The gate is only opened via pin entry, which the gate itself is roughly 2 meters tall. Even the door to the house requires thumbprint access, a very modern and technological touch in an older, traditional house.

He shows you to your room, which is also his room, but yours too. It has its modern touch, with the remaining aspect of futons to lay on. The cameras in the hallway also are in your view, the one in the bedroom and the hallway. Looking into each room, you notice they are containing cameras, but one room is different. “What’s this?”

“Oh? This is our nursery! So, when you have a baby, it’ll be in here,” he chirps, pointing out things in the room. Scanning the room, you notice the lack of camera secured.

“Where’s the camera?”

“What— what camera?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he fakes confusion. You see right through it.

“I noticed the other cameras. There’s not one here,”

“Oh, well, that’s because this room has baby monitors!” He gestures to the white device. A nod of understanding has the tour moving on. Showing you to the kitchen, you notice the pantry and fridge are stocked. “Would you make me dinner?”

“Of course. What do you want?”

“You, served hot and steaming in the bath,” he grins. Eyes widen as you realize what he wants, you sheepishly laughing as you acquiesce.

Kōtarō is much rougher than Keiji, you knew that, but the way he fucks you with fervor as he hasn’t seen you in almost five days is something akin to his rut. Sinking his teeth into your skin, remarking his territory as he spurs you into your first orgasm of the night. Your nails are digging into his broad shoulders, the only thing you can use to keep yourself grounded. The setting wasn’t in the bathroom, but rather the bedroom where he claimed he wanted to “seal the deal” of you coming home. Legs tighten around his waist, back arching as he continues to drive his cock into you and litter your neck with less painful marks, claiming already claimed territory. As he presses a wet, sloppy kiss against your lips, you scream as you tighten your walls, feeling his knot force its way inside you.

A warm hand rubs the side of your body as your walls convulse around him, squeezing as he pumps you full of his cum. It’s a memory to you, but it feels so warm and fulfilling, you immediately relax in his hold as he continues to pepper kisses along your body. It’s a comforting feeling, being praised and cared for, a drastic difference from the way Keiji treated you a few days ago. Well, how you think he treated you a few days ago. He said he never did it, but your body said differently. With Kōtarō’s eyes of love looking down on you, you didn’t think it mattered. That was in the past, this was the present. You felt comfortable here, that was what mattered.

When Keiji arrived with a bunch of boxes, you were told to make them lunch so they could eat when they were done. Kōtarō said he didn’t want you straining yourself after last night, so you agree to his demands. Deciding to make some udon for lunch, you get to work as they lug in the boxes. The boxes aren’t large nor heavy, but watching Kōtarō easily lift three of them with no effort, while Keiji brings in two at most with also no effort, you feel yourself get wet at the thought of them hot and sweaty afterwards. With a possible treat in mind, you work more diligently, mentally preparing yourself to ask them.

Keiji mentioned he’d be looking for another job while Kōtarō was at the gym. It would be the first time you would be alone and free to roam. You begged Keiji to not leave for too long, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt as he pried your hands off. Kōtarō gave you a sweet kiss before he left, telling you he’d try to hurry back, but you knew Keiji would get back first. Sitting in the large house, you didn’t know what to do except cook and sleep. Your phone screen lit up with a message from Kōtarō, a picture of him blowing you a kiss with a message of ‘I miss you!’ under it. You smile at that, sending back a message that you miss him, too.

Before you lock your phone, you look at the many games you have on it. There’s one game you don’t remember being on it, it looks like a tracker app. Clicking on it, it welcomes you and it shows how far along you are in.. pregnancy? First reaction is to panic, how do you know if you’re pregnant? Going into the internet app, you search up symptoms of pregnancy. One that jumps out to you is the spotting, only a little bit of blood as the sperm fertilizes the egg. It is most likely what you did on Kōtarō’s lap, the day he came to Tokyo. Another surge of panic comes as you think of your lovers, your mates. With Keiji looking for a new job and Kōtarō being busy with being a professional athlete, they don’t have time to take care of you and a baby. You decide to not tell them.

Although you decide to not tell them, the next week is excuses of your recent symptoms. You find yourself more exhausted than usual, not even getting out of bed to bid goodbye to Kōtarō and Keiji. Not only that, you end up in the bathroom as you feel sick, but only half of the times does something come up. It’s when you have another episode of morning sickness does Keiji pop the question. “Should I get a pregnancy test?”

“N-No! I’m not pregnant, just some bad sushi!” When Keiji’s grip on your arm gets tighter, you whimper. “Keiji, stop hurting me,”

“I’m not hurting you, I just need you to tell me the tru-“ the door shutting cuts him off, his attention to the door of the bathroom where Kōtarō is, panting.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I could sense it,”

“I’m just a bit sick-“ “She’s pregnant-“ You both speak at the same time. Your eyes widen as Keiji looks at you.

“Pregnant? Now? Really?” Kōtarō is ecstatic, but you don’t take it that way.

“I’m not, I promise! I’m sorry!” You beg. Kōtarō’s mood turns sour, the anger directed towards you. Keiji stands back, but he doesn’t interfere.

“Why are you lying to me? If Keiji says you are, then you are! I know you’re lying!” He kneels on the ground and grabs your shoulders, digging his meaty fingers into the flesh. You yelp in pain, attempting to get him off. “Why are you doing this?! You were doing so well!”

“Stop, Kō-chan, stop! You’re hurting me!” A call out of his childhood nickname has his rage quelling, as you brush his hands off and rub the stinging skin. “I don’t want to be pregnant,”

“This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what we want, do you understand that?” Keiji speaks, voice low and threatening. You quickly nod your head, attempting to explain yourself.

“I- I thought that you wouldn’t want a baby because you’re both busy! I don’t- I don’t want to burden you more than I do,” with your words, the anger and rage suddenly evaporates as they understand.

“Burden us? Baby, we love you and do everything for you. You’re going to be carrying my pups and Keiji’s babies, we want this. This is all I ever hoped for,” Kōtarō coos, taking your hands and pressing a kiss to them. A fit of sobs escape as you wrap your arms around him, hiccuping into his chest. Keiji sits and smiles, knowing you have completely adjusted into the proper role.

With the news of your pregnancy, Kōtarō is able to get off a lot more to be there for you. You’re no omega, so it’s not as if he has to take off for 9 months, and Keiji is there to take care of you. Keiji takes care of any appointments you need to do, signing you into a private hospital nearby where Kōtarō’s teammate’s omega gave birth. A list of what was normal was given to you and Keiji and what would be a cause for concern, so you made sure to drill into your head about the possible problems. It was vital that you were able to give birth, being able to give Kōtarō and Keiji what they wanted all you needed to take care of yourself. Keiji prepared your meals, making sure you were eating properly even before the bump showed.

When the bump became prominent, you were glad that your wardrobe consisted of dresses. The dresses you had were all loose-fitting and easy to move around in. With the upcoming winter months, you had lots of blankets and an oversized jacket, bearing Kōtarō’s MSBY number and logo. Kōtarō couldn’t keep his hands off of you, always rubbing your bump and pinching the extra fat you were putting on. Worry over the added weight was a brief concept that quickly evaporated as Kōtarō voiced how much he loves the extra meat to fondle and love, tickling you as you giggle afterwards. Keiji couldn’t say he disagreed with Kōtarō, the added weight adding to your cuteness charm as you did the most basic and minuscule things. He could disagree with Kōtarō on the obsession with the pregnancy milk, however.

Lactation was painful, the way your boobs ached as they were full of creamy milk. Although they ache, Kōtarō encouraged you to let him drink from them. Hesitation was in the beginning, but once his lips had secured themselves on your nipple and started sucking, it was quite relaxing. The tender ache in your breasts were gone as Kōtarō drank from them, but he often had to drink from both of them due to Keiji’s aversion. He didn’t see the appeal, he rather enjoyed teasing your nipples when the sexual appetite of yours had risen, but he didn’t see the appeal in drinking the milk. Keiji did oblige Kōtarō, however, in looking into lactation cookies, which would increase milk production and could even make it taste better. It was worth a try, as it would help the children to develop as you breastfed them.

The lactation cookies Keiji made looked awful, but tasted amazing. You would have eaten all of them had it not been for Keiji stopping you. Kōtarō seemed excited, immediately begging for another go. He’d have to wait until nighttime, since he often took naps after you breastfed him during the day.

At night, you often slept completely naked, able to easily feed Kōtarō if he woke up in the middle of the night. Your sex drive had risen exponentially in your second trimester, to the point Kōtarō had to request off to take care of you. He made sure to keep his promise, stuffing you with his thick cock and plugging you up with his cum or lapping at your folds until your fluids splashed against his face. With the third trimester underway, your libido has decreased while your milk had increased, but that didn’t deter Kōtarō from getting frisky. Even as Keiji bathed away from you two, he couldn’t help but touch himself to your whines and mewls.

Kōtarō has been riding a cloud since your pregnancy came about. Even before the milk, he found it hard to resist fucking you, especially with the added sensitivity. Your breasts were larger now, bouncing with every thrusts as he tweaks the nipples, watching the cream dribble from them. He can’t help himself, really, as he goes to attach himself to one of your perky buds. When Keiji enters the room, he chuckles at the sight.

“Should we worry that there won’t be enough milk for you and the baby?” He muses, sitting on the futon next to you. Your hand grasps at his silk shirt, bringing him down to give you a kiss. Even as Kōtarō drills into you, you want more. A wet pop resounds around the room as Kōtarō laughs, groaning in your ear as he plugs you with his knot, pumping you full.

“The pup can have those bottles, and with help of those miracle cookies, we should be fine. You sure you don’t want to at least try a bit? It feels nice for her, doesn’t it, my little Beta?” He coos, pressing kisses to your cheeks as you come down from your high, walls fluttering around Kōtarō’s cock.

“It relieves some pain, I’ll admit that,” you smile at Keiji. “You can try,”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” He smiles back at you, brushing hair out of your face. Kōtarō massages your breast, holding it so Keiji can attach his lips to the nipple. His eyes focus on the creamy liquid dripping from the bud, only to become transparent as it follows gravity. When he does get a taste, he knows he’s in trouble. It’s as delicious as Kōtarō said, creamy and full that makes you want more. As he sucks with fervor, you giggle and Keiji is joined by his other lover, suckling any milk he left behind. It’s such a strange thing to happen, both grown men sucking on your chest as if they had been born only recently. With the swell of your stomach, you knew they’d have to share their milky mine.

As your due date drew near, you found yourself unable to do anything alone. Kōtarō was off completely until you delivered and Keiji was no longer looking for a job, as it was decided Kōtarō made enough for everyone to live comfortably. He knew he’d have to find another job soon, as more children were born and needed to be fed, but that was a well ways off, at least 9 more months.

What started as a normal day soon turned to chaos as preparations for delivery expedited when your water broke. The hospital had your room prepared already, but it was for your week stay as you were three days away from your date. Kōtarō was in a frenzy, unsure of what to do but desperate to do something. Keiji has to drive to the hospital, while you were doing breathing exercises with Kōtarō in the back seat. It was the birth of their first child, so even Keiji was panicking, but he was also excited.

Once settled into the room, the nurses had to check to see how far along you were dilated. Kōtarō was anxious, his scent permeating the room as he started to pace. The doctor had come in, spurring him into a fighting mentality because the doctor was another Alpha. Keiji and a nurse had to get him out of the room, with a promise he could see the children once they were born, but he would have to wait in the waiting room. Weakly calling out his name and telling him you were fine, he obliged as he left, punching the wall once as he felt his emotions boil over. Keiji was by your side, holding your hand as you squeeze it, pushing when the doctor told you to.

When the room was filled with screaming, the clock chiming as 12:15 had arrived, signaling the date of birth of your first born son. With his stubby arms and legs, you laughed as you held him, Keiji getting the honor of cutting the cord. The baby still needed to be cleaned and checked over, so the doctor and nurses took him while Keiji went to get Kōtarō. By the time Kōtarō and Keiji has come back, you were holding a small, but still big, baby boy swaddled in a thick blanket. Kōtarō immediately raced over to look over both of you, his scent out of control as his emotions mingled together. He didn’t know what to think.

“It looks like it’s yours, Kōtarō,” Keiji says, hand resting on Kōtarō’s shoulder. He smiles in response, looking at the baby’s golden eyes blinking open at him.

“Sure does, Keiji. I guess the next thing we should work on is proper marriage, right?” He watches as the baby grasps his finger, the small hand even smaller compared to his large one.

“A proper marriage, yes. The ring, the dress, the ceremony, you would like that, wouldn’t you dear?”

“Of course Keiji. Anything you want.” As you look up to him, he sees nothing but love in your eyes. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

“Well, as well as making sure the next one’s mine. We should start on that as soon as possible, don’t you think?”

[colorfulbard]

Hopelessly devoted

Summary: Things between you and Levi got weird ever since you saved him.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: Fluff and some angst(?)

Words: 4.6K

A/N: I got this idea from a tiktok a while ago, can’t remember the user. Yes, I know the title is very cliche, I thought it was cute.

~~~

The uncomfortable mix of sweat and blood was a common feeling most scouts got used to, but not you. To you, it was probably always going to feel bothersome like an itch you couldn't scratch. Not like anyone really blames you, even if the blood evaporated the feeling of it somehow always remained. With an annoyed groan, you grabbed the handkerchief from your pocket and attempted to wipe excess blood that remained along with sweet off your brow.

You sighed at the sight of your now dirty handkerchief and leaned back against the tree. It wasn't a good idea, but you decided to close your eyes even if just for a moment. Ever since the destruction of wall Maria, there had been no expeditions outside the actual walls. At the moment, all there was to do was figure out ways to plug up the holes and exterminate titans skulking around.

Those extermination missions have proven to be tiring considering the way almost felt yourself falling asleep. You shook off the sleep and opened your eyes to look down at the handkerchief again. There was quite a bit of blood on it now thanks to you. You stowed it away back into your pocket with a chuckle. He wasn't going to be too pleased to see the way you dirtied it.

"Y/N!"

You automatically stood at the sound of your name. Nearing your line of sight, you recognized someone from Levi's squad. You squinted to try and make out their appearance. Your eyes returned to their normal state when you recognized it to be Petra, making her way towards you at an alarming speed.

Your brows furrowed as she landed in front of you with a worried expression. "Is everything alright?" You asked, not giving her a chance to speak. It shouldn't be too much of a cause for concern considering Petra was always one to be a tad nervous, but something felt different this time.

After taking a quick once over of her, you noticed the edge of her cape was wrinkled. Most likely because she had been wringing it between her fingers. That was something you recognized to be one of her nervous habits. However, you'd never seen her do that during a mission. It was clear that whatever was happening was probably serious.

You placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting look as if to will her into talking. She seemed to appreciate it and took in a deep breath before speaking, "we got separated from the captain and can't find him anywhere," she said, choking up on her words.

You rose a brow at her. Levi was a smart man, he was most likely fine. Besides squads get separated on missions all the time, you were even separated from your own at the moment. Miche was usually never concerned when you did either way.

Petra should have enough faith in her captain to know that by now. "I don't understand..." You took a moment to think, "why is this a cause for concern?" You inquired.

"Before the expedition, we distracted him and I don't think he ever got the chance to do maintenance on his gear..." She trailed off as her words got caught in her throat. The edge of her cape was getting more wrinkled as the seconds passed.

"So, you think there's a chance it could've malfunctioned?" You asked. Your eyes couldn't help but widen in surprise. Even after being apart of the scouts for years, it seemed like there was a first for everything. Even if it had to do with someone as meticulous as Levi.

"I'm not sure," she responded, "I can't remember the last time he did maintenance on it." Her gaze shifted down to the ground as if to try and remember.

You nodded, "alright go inform the commander and Mike of the situation. I'll go and begin searching-" you grabbed your handgrip- "after that, join your squad and continue the search," you instructed.

Petra nodded, "we already sent Eld to inform the commander," she assured. She was about to pull her trigger until she turned back to you, "thank you, Y/N."

You gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder. "No problem and try not to worry," you said, "I'm sure he's fine, we just have to be quick." With that said, you pulled your trigger and jumped down once the anchor sunk itself into a tree.

Once your horse was in your sight, you reeled back your anchor and landed next to it. The landing wasn't your best, you stumbled a bit, but there wasn't time to think about that now. You quickly mounted your horse and kicked your feet back to coerce them into running.

It felt like you had stopped breathing the moment you were able to pull your thoughts together. In hopes of saving time, you hadn't even bothered to let yourself properly breathe. You'd have to thank Petra later for telling you, you knew she didn't have to, but it was still nice that she thought of you at that moment.

After taking a deep breath to expel the nerves slowly forming in your gut, you willed your horse to go faster. Clearly, the words you had said to Petra weren't currently working on you. It wasn't as if you had no faith in Levi. It was more so that you had no hope that fate would be kind to you at this moment.

Taking deep breaths wasn't helping all the intrusive thoughts coming up. You couldn't even blink properly without horrific images flashing behind your eyelids. You tried to shake them off and pushed forward. This was Levi you were thinking about, he had to be okay, right?

~

How troublesome could this expedition get? Not only did his gear malfunction, leading him to slam his body into a tree, but he also had a rough landing causing his leg to break. At least, he assumed it was broken, even if he could walk a little. Not that it mattered at the moment considering there was nothing around.

Even with all these odds stacked against him, Levi was never one to give up so easily. Which willed him into attempting to use his gear about five more times to no avail. He groaned under his breath in frustration, "damn it..." He grumbled.

As much he would like to put the blame on an inanimate object, there was no point. There was no one to blame, but himself. Levi had been apart of the scouts for so long, you'd think maintenance would be second nature to him. He should've been more attentive, even if his squad was hammering with dumb questions. So much for that being one of his more exceptional qualities.

Levi supposed he should count his blessings. So far, everything was quiet. That calming thought lasted for about five seconds before he heard a loud groan in the distance. His eyes widened to see a titan slowly making its way towards him. "Just my luck," he cursed at himself.

No point in sitting around like a wounded, helpless animal. Levi knew he still had a chance to survive, even if it was slim. He took his blades to prepare to hopefully kill it. The titan's eyes narrowed in on him at the sound of his blades being unsheathed.

"Shit, so much for thinking it was already looking at me." He knew it was a curse to think this, but could it get any worse?

As if the titan could comprehend what he was thinking, it began crawling towards him at an alarming speed. Levi grit his teeth as it grew closer and closer. "It just had to be abnormal, didn't it?" He asked himself.

Levi looked down at his legs and his posture slacked, no point in running. He wouldn't get very far and would have to deal with wondering when the ugly fucker would get it over with every second. That meant the only thing left to do was try and fight back. He gripped his blades and thoughts of why he was fighting came to mind.

The first thing was him being known as humanity's strongest, meaning he had a duty. No telling how everyone would react knowing their strongest soldier died. The next, everyone he had grown close to in the scouts. Just imagining their devasted faces brought a sour taste to his mouth. Lastly, you.

Levi was usually never one to get sentimental in moments like this, but he couldn't help it. If there was a chance these were his last moments, it'd be nice to be thinking of you. All of those private moments together just simply enjoying one another's presence. You truly were good to him, always assuring him that those moments were enough and that there was never a need for an actual date.

You knew how awkward he can be when it came to public displays of affection and never gave him shit for it. You truly were a blessing in his eyes. Too bad the last time he would ever see that blessing was in his memories.

Once the ugly thing came close enough, he reared his arm back to prepare to take out its eyes. However, it seemed like there was no point in even trying. The titan didn't even get a chance to come within six feet f him before it went limp.

"Levi!"

There it was, the familiar voice of his savior. You stood from your knelt position at the titan's neck with a wide smile at the sight of him. "You're okay!" You exclaimed in relief as you slid off the titan's body. Without even giving him a single second to process your being there, you wrapped your arms around him.

You sighed as you felt him squished against you. "I'm so glad," you whispered in his ear, "I thought I was going to be too late."

Levi brought his arms around you, not even fathoming how you were here. Call him a sap, but you almost looked like a guardian angel in his eyes when you peeked over that titan's head. His grip on you became tighter, happy to feel your familiar shape in his arms. He could gladly stay forever like this, had it not been for this fucked up leg. A groan came from him when he readjusted his footing.

You immediately pulled away at the sound and inspected him. "What happened?" You asked, worried.

He gestured to his leg which was limp. "Gear malfunctioned and I had a bad landing because of it," he explained, "but I'll be fine."

You furrowed your brows, something you always did when you thought he was lying about something. Levi poked a finger between your brows to fix them. "Don't look at me like that-" he began to unconsciously lean into you- "I'm fine. Just need to get back to headquarters."

You nodded and knelt down in front of him. The silence between you two was thick as he stared two holes into your back. "You're kidding, right?" He asked rhetorically. Even he had to admit to himself being carried on someone's back was slightly embarrassing, it made him feel like a toddler.

"It's either this or I can carry you in my arms like a blushing bride," you responded cheekily.

Levi swore he could feel you smirking even if he couldn't see your face. Nonetheless, he relented, it was better than dying at least. Getting comfortable on your back was easier said than done, his shitty leg definitely wasn't helping. Eventually, he got the hang of it and tapped your shoulder.

You gave a nod and stood up, albeit a little shaky, but you managed. Even after getting used to the weight of your own gear, pairing another along with Levi proved to be a challenge. You tried not to let it show, but a pained grunt managed to slip past your lips anyway.

Levi tensed on your back at the sound you made. "Alright let's try something else." He made an attempt to get off, but you tightened your grip.

"No way, I'm fine," you said, your voice rasping. You managed to grasp your handgrip and placed your finger on the trigger, "hold on, it's gonna be an unstable ride."

Levi relented at the sight of your determination and wrapped his arms around your neck. He braced himself as you immediately took off at the feeling of his arms. A few hiccups occurred during your flight, but you managed to land close to your horse without a permanent scratch.

You took a breather once Levi let himself off your back. You bent yourself back to get rid of the ache that was forming. Your little break didn't last long when you spotted Levi limping to your horse. You quickly grabbed an arm and put it over your shoulder to aid him.

"You know, I'm starting to think all that tea is giving you a little extra weight," you teased in an attempt to make light of the situation. You knew he had to be feeling useless at the moment. It always happened whenever he got hurt.

The only response you received was a pinch to your side causing you to squeak. "Ouch..." You whined while trying to soothe it by rubbing it.

"That's what you get for teasing your superior."

You gawked at him. "Wow, you're pulling out the superior card now?" You questioned, "Would you rather I tease you in other ways?" You wiggled your brows at him. He looked away from you and pinched you again.

"Shut up."

~

Things had been a little odd ever since that day and you were positive you were the only one who noticed. Levi was still out of commission, but that didn't stop him from fulfilling other duties. The only reason why it bothered you is that he was currently using crutches to move around. You were, however, put at ease when you were told his injury was only a hairline fracture.

All of that wasn't the biggest issue though. The issue at hand was Levi was practically hovering over you as if you were the one injured. He never made it obvious in fear of being called out by comrades. You, of course, didn't miss the way he followed you everywhere until he was called away to do something important.

His hovering only got worse whenever you were asked to assist in Hange's titan experiments. There was also the issue of him getting weird headaches at random times of the day. You usually caught him suffering from them when you returned from different errands. You tried asking what caused it, but not even Levi could figure it out.

After long deliberation, you decided it might be a good idea to get out for a little while. Some time away from everything scout related might be good for him. So, you dragged him along with you to Trost. Fortunately, it was one of your days off so there was no need to convince Erwin to give you one anyway.

Before Levi could bother resisting you had already forced him to mount your horse. You had to come up with a creative solution for his crutch considering it'd be uncomfortable for him to hold onto, plus you were going to make him hold your basket anyway. You managed to tie the crutch onto the saddle and sat behind him to hold onto him. You knew he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea considering he could've shoved you off him, even if he was injured. You smiled when he leaned back against you to relax if only for a moment.

The ride didn't take too long and you quickly dismounted your horse when you reached some stables. You hesitantly held out your arms to assist Levi but judging by the look on his face, he'd much rather fall. You held your arms up in mock surrender and let him dismount on his own, a little clumsily.

The marketplace was a little more crowded than normal. You glanced at Levi to see if he was okay, it seemed like he didn't mind. You linked your arm with his free one and smiled. It wasn't notable on his face, but you could tell by the way he gripped your arm that he was content.

Even if it was crowded, it was nice to see it more lively. After wall Maria was breached in Shinganshina, everyone in Trost had been put on edge. But now, everything seems to have returned to some form of normalcy. Not to mention, more people meant more merchants.

"Should we go see if we can find some new tea leaves?" You asked absentmindedly. Your eyes went from stall to stall, not even paying attention to where you were walking.

Levi hummed. "With all these merchants around there's a good chance we might find something new," he surmised, pulling you closer so you didn't bump into anyone.

You nodded, "well then, we better start looking."

There was so much to see you couldn't help yourself. You barely ever had a chance to walk through markets thanks to the survey corps. It was fun walking from stall to stall with Levi on your arm. It almost made you feel like an old married couple with no worries whatsoever. The thought brought a big smile to your lips.

You glanced at Levi who was busy observing various tea leaves. You knew your life with him wouldn't change with a ring on your finger, but you couldn't help thinking about what it would be like. You giggled as you thought being referred to as Mrs. Ackerman.

"Oi, what are you laughing at?"

You tensed, "uh, nothing important," you said in between nervous giggles.

He rose a brow at you but shrugged it off. Fortunately, his seriousness with tea leaves made him forget of your silliness. You knew he'd be here for a little while and proposed that you would go ahead while he took a moment here. He seemed hesitant at first but nodded nonetheless.

As you walked ahead, the stalls got more scarce. "Oh well," you mumbled to yourself. They were a lot more exciting near the front, which made sense. Too bad there wasn't anything more exciting or rare back here.

You took a final look around and decided to walk back to where Levi was. The sun was beginning to set, so it was best that you went back to headquarters now anyway. Before you could even take another step, something grabbed your basket and tugged you back.

You grunted and landed back against something hard. You glanced behind you and saw a man standing there, his hand grasping your basket. You rose a brow, "I'm sorry, did you need something?" You asked, slapping his hand away.

He yelped in response and frowned at you, "is that any way to treat a gentleman?" He asked.

"Well, when a so-called gentleman grabs a lady without her permission, yes," you responded, crossing your arms.

He chuckled at your words, "how cute-" he grabbed your wrist- "don't you know that ladies should use kinder words when addressing a man." You could feel his grip was tightening.

"I could've used cruder words than that, sir," you sneered, tugging your wrist free.

Your choice of words only did more damage and excited him. "Oh, how crude?" He asked while laying a hand at your waist, "wanna tell me?"

~

To Levi, it felt like no time had passed as he stood at the same stand looking over various teas. Looked like coming to Trost wasn't such a waste after all. He managed to find tea leaves he'd never tried and his favorite. Now all that was left to do was locate you and go home.

The longer he walked the more he began to wonder how far you could've gotten. He knew you had a tendency to wander, but he never thought you would've gotten this far. Levi practically made it to the end of the market when he overheard your voice.

"I'll tell you when titans fly!"

Levi blinked as he processed the words you spoke, that's definitely you. He rose a brow before he caught sight of you. You were currently fighting off a man who had a tight grip on you. He immediately frowned and got ready to toss his crutch into the man's direction. He stopped his actions when you kneed him in the crotch and elbowed his back when he knelt down from the pain.

You huffed and straightened your clothes. You continued to frown until you spotted Levi standing a couple of feet away. The frown melted away into a smile and you waved at him. "Levi, are you all done?" You asked, walking up to him and taking his arm again.

Levi couldn't help but blink at you again. You rose a brow at his silence, clearly wondering what was wrong. "You just kicked him in the balls without a second thought..." His words trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

You chuckled, your brow still raised. "Of course, what else was I supposed to do?" You asked rhetorically, "now, come on. Let's go home." Your grip on his arm became tighter as you began to walk.

Before Levi could even take a single step, he flinched and gripped his head. That same familiar ache came back and once again, he had no idea what the cause of it was. These headaches were becoming a nuisance and he didn't know how much more he could take.

He could feel you staring at him, even with his eyes shut tight. He just knew your brows were furrowed, concern shown on your features.

"Levi, are you alright?" You asked, laying a hand on his head.

All he could do was nod in response. The pain was still making his head feel like it was throbbing, but he didn't want to continue making you worried. So, he pretended everything was fine and peeled his eyes open. He noticed you let out a sigh of relief when he did.

Everything would be fine as soon the both of you returned to headquarters. Fortunately, everything felt like a quick blur while walking back towards the horse and riding back to headquarters.

The moment the horse stopped he didn't bother waiting for you to help him and jumped down on his own. Levi ignored the small twinge of pain he felt and walked to his room as if nothing happened. He hadn't even seen the concerned look on your face as he did.

Later on, at night, you thought you would be able to speak with him. As soon as you had gotten to your shared room earlier, he had holed himself up in the bedroom. You figured he wanted to be left alone for a little bit based on the headache he had earlier. But, now, you assumed he had enough time to himself and walked in with tea in hand. You thought you might get him to relax a bit with some.

"Levi?" You asked softly, shutting the door behind you. "Are you alright?"

The only response was a small grumble. You sighed and walked over to his side of the bed where he laid. You watched as he perked up a bit at the new smell, it was the new tea leaves he had bought. With a small smile, you placed the cup on the nightstand and sat next to him.

"Levi, talk to me." You placed a hand on his leg, "I'm worried. You've been in here since we got back in silence."

Speaking of, the silence was suffocating. He wasn't looking at you, you couldn't tell if he refused to or if the only way to soothe the headache was to cover his eyes. You sighed again and moved your hand from his leg to get up from the bed.

Before you could fully get up his hand caught yours, stopping your actions. You looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I'm sorry..." He sighed while squeezing your hand. You rose a brow at his apology and sat back down. You remained quiet and waited for him to explain.

Levi's grip on your hand tightened as you watched him grit his teeth. You knew he was trying to find the right words to say. You moved your hand around to rub your thumb over his knuckles to soothe him. He seemed to slowly relax with the motions as he stopped gritting his teeth and became less tense.

The silence continued dragging on, so you decided to give him a gentle nudge to persuade him into talking. "For?" You asked.

Levi took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was nervous about what he had to say and you had no idea why. His grip on your hand tightened again. "For not being able to protect you," he admitted, "I'm so useless like this." He gestured to his leg.

Your eyes widened at his words. It took a moment for you to get over the initial shock, but once you did you grabbed the arm that covered his eyes to move it away. You don't know if it was moonlight streaming in through the crack in the curtains or your eyes playing tricks on you, but it looked like there were tears in Levi's eyes.

You ignored it for now and placed your hands on his cheeks. You called his name forcing him to look into your eyes. "You're not useless, please don't say that-" you began stroking his cheek with your thumb- "you never say that to me when I get injured, so, don't say that about yourself."

You lowered your forehead to rest against his. "You don't have to worry about me, I can take care of myself," you whispered. "Don't you have faith that I'm strong enough to take care of myself?" You asked.

Levi let in a shark intake of breath as he heard your words. He began to sit up causing you to move away from him. "Of course I do," he replied, "I just... Can't help it." His voice was strained as if it was painful to even say.

"I want to protect you no matter what." He was staring down at his lap. "But when I can't-" he gestured to his injury- "it hurts..." He laid a hand on his forehead.

Your brows furrowed. He was being so cryptic, it was hard to tell what he meant. You couldn't help but ask, "what hurts? Why?" You laid a hand on his cheek to make him look into your eyes.

Levi didn't answer as he stared into your concerned eyes. Based on the inner turmoil you saw in his own eyes, it was safe to say that he couldn't even begin to explain the feeling. You shook your head as a way to tell him that he didn't have to explain. A shadow cast over his eyes when you did.

You let your hand fall to your side and dropped your gaze to your lap. You didn't want to leave him alone with his thoughts tonight, but you weren't sure of what to do next. Fortunately, an answer came unexpectedly.

Levi leaned forward and rested his head against your chest, his hands were on your waist. You welcomed the unexpected affection but froze for a brief moment. Most of the time, Levi was never one to initiate intimate moments like this, but it always made you happy when he did.

You brought a hand to the top of his head when he spoke.

"I'm just hopelessly devoted to you."

You said nothing and continued cradling him close to you with no intention of letting him go. There was no way of knowing if either of you would ever find out what was wrong, but you knew you would find out together.

[demonsandco]

Okay okay we know with their demon forms it requires a lot of upkeep now what do you think they would do and what they need help with. Cause what comes to mind is a family grooming session 😊

I love this ask thank youuuu. I wasn't sure if you wanted their canon forms, but this is mostly based on my own personal headcanons for their demon forms! I hope you don’t mind that :) It would be much easier for them to handle their insane forms, but what's the fun in that?

Before I start, all demon horns need constant maintenance. Demon horns never actually stop growing, so routine sanding, usually with a custom shaped whetstone, is important to keep horns smooth and to keep them from getting too long. Without proper care, horns can easily become overgrown and asymmetrical, as well as gain a rough, dry and almost scaly texture, which is rather uncomfortable for the demon in question

All other forms of upkeep vary from demon to demon, depending on what features they have (ei. scales, feathers, fur, hair, etc.).

Lucifer

Lucifer's horns are rather easy to reach, curling forward along the sides of his head, so it's fairly simple for him to keep them maintained himself. It's something that he does often, especially because neglecting them could easily impact his image. After all, it's common to see him bring out his demon form to intimidate others, and he wants to make sure he looks well put together. Caring for his horns is not much different than shaving his face in the morning, nothing more than a quick and simple part of his routine.

The thing that actually gives Lucifer trouble is his wings and tail. General self care is something he can handle easily, but feathers naturally wear down and need to be replaced, which means molting. Molting leaves him feeling absolutely miserable. His entire back starts looking patchy and he feels itchy and irritated all over, but he can never seem to properly reach the areas giving him trouble himself. His pride tends to get in the way of asking for help, so he's often left to suffer through it until the new feathers finish growing in.

Lucifer would need to trust someone quite a bit in order to let them help, but it's always a huge relief to have that itchiness soothed by a caring hand. Most often, Mammon ends up being the one to help out. Not only is the second born the only other one who still has feathers, but he's also very skilled at reading Lucifer's moods and telling when he needs help. They never speak about it afterwards, but it's a much needed binding experience for both of them.

(The rest are under the cut)

Mammon

Being a model, Mammon takes very good care of his appearance. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he does it, his horns always give him an insane amount of trouble. They're very tightly coiled and rest at a slightly backwards angle, making it difficult for Mammon to reach the inside parts of his horns. It's not uncommon to see him sulking his way over to Asmodeus' room for help with those hard to reach areas, after spending hours trying to do it himself and failing.

Other than his horns, Mammon has it pretty easy. Like Lucifer, he has to deal with molting, but it never seems to last too long for him, much to the eldest's envy. His wings are also featherless, so molting is nowhere near as uncomfortable for him. The only big feathers he needs to worry about replacing are the ones on his tail. The rest are much smaller and less irritating to regrow.

His wings and other featherless areas do need extra care, though, in the form of moisturizing. Without protection from feathers, those areas get dry and cracked easily, especially if he goes flying. To deal with it, he's got a pretty big collection of scented moisturizing lotions and oils that he can pick from, most of which were gifts from Asmodeus, since they have similar wings.

Leviathan

Levi's demon form is rather unique compared to his brothers. Instead of having true horns, he has antlers. Rather than needing constant care, his horns grow to their full size, shed their outer layer of skin and then eventually fall off to start the process again. Levi often goes to the ocean to isolate himself when his horns are ready to fall. He usually lets them sink to the bottom, where they take the form of the devildom equivalent of coral, providing shelter for aquatic life.

On top of shedding his horns, he also sheds his skin. His sheds are entirely determined by his horns, happening once when the antlers are full grown and ready to lose their protective, velvety skin, and again later on when they're ready to fall. While his antlers' life cycle is reminiscent of a deer's, the shedding of his skin is very similar to a snake's shed. It's not hard to tell when Levi is close to shedding. The old skin begins to separate itself from his new scales, giving him a dull gray sheen over his body and his eyes begin to look dull and glazed over.

It's definitely not a pleasant feeling and he can't see very well through the skin either, so he tends to avoid his brothers. High humidity is also needed for him to shed properly, so if he can't go hide out at sea, Levi's going to lock himself in his room and soak miserably in his bathtub.

Satan

Satan's self care routine isn't too difficult, but it's definitely the most time consuming and he absolutely hates it. He's not the most patient demon, especially when it comes to tasks that he thinks are wasting his time. When it's time for him to maintain his more demonic features, Satan needs to put aside an entire day for it.

Satan's horns are easy enough for him to handle. The inside part of the sharp curve of them often gives him some trouble, but he's nothing if not stubborn, so he usually manages to sort it out on his own. Horns on their own are rather time-consuming to care for, but what really takes up all of Satan's time is the multiple other horn-like protrusions along his body, as well as his tail. He's got boney spikes in the areas that his bones are closer to the skin (elbows, spine, ribs, jaw, etc.) and, like regular horns, they're constantly growing.

Whether he likes it or not, he always ends up needing to ask someone for help, and that someone usually ends up being Asmo. Not only is the process tedious, but he also has a very hard time reaching the spines on his back properly, so a helping hand is very useful.

Asmodeus

Unsurprisingly, Asmo has a very in depth routine that he follows to a t. Every week, he sets aside an evening to take care of his horns and wings specifically, sanding down his horns to keep them smooth and shiny, and moisturizing his wings with oils and lotions to keep the skin supple and soft. Being related to scorpions, Asmo also has a carapace in his true form that resembles the exoskeleton of actual scorpions. It doesn't need much extra care, but he always makes sure to keep it bright and polished.

The downside to his carapace is that it can't actually heal unless Asmo molts and completely replaces it. He's not the biggest fan of molting, but he'll force himself to molt early if he gets scratched or hurt in any way. He can't stand the thought of any part of him looking dull or banged up.

Overall, though, Asmo definitely has his self care handled perfectly. He's also very particular about how things are done, so he's very hesitant to let anyone else do it for him. He does, however, love helping his brothers out with grooming and self care. Especially the ones that he knows are likely to neglect themselves without a proper push.

Beelzebub

Beel's self care leaves much to be desired. He's completely horrible at taking care of his demonic attributes, but he often forgets about it or runs out of time. It's not uncommon for his horns to be rough and chipped or for his insect-like carapace to look dull and roughed up, especially with how aggressive his sports matches can get. Between school, working out, fangol and his constant hunger, regular upkeep gets put on the backburner.

Luckily, Beel and his twin often partake in allogrooming! They both find it easier to take care of each other, rather than themselves. This is especially helpful when it comes to Beel's horns. They curve so tightly along the sides of his head that he can't actually fit his hands between the horns and his skin to smooth them out. Belphie, on the other hand, has much smaller hands and can easily reach around and sand them down, while Beel takes care of him in turn. They rarely talk during these moments, but it serves as good bonding time for the two of them.

Beel's carapace is something he can handle himself, mostly because it doesn't really require anything. Like Asmo's, the only way for his carapace to "heal" is for him to molt and replace it, which he puts off for as long as possible. It's thick and hardy and since he doesn't put much stock in looking perfectly put together, he doesn't worry about it all that much. Whenever he does feel the need to molt, it goes by pretty quickly and he's back to his regular schedule in no time.

Belphegor

Belphie is honestly the worst at taking care of himself. Not because he doesn't care, but because he has such a hard time gathering up enough motivation to even get up in the mornings, much less put in the effort to look nice. If no one steps in, he can go days at a time without brushing just the hair on his head. Even on the days that he does that much, chances are that he didn't bother brushing the rest of his fur, too. After all, if he just doesn't show off his demon form, then no one will notice right?

Luckily for him, Beel does notice when his twin hasn't been caring for himself. While the rest of the brothers only need to worry about their demon forms every other week or even just once a month, Belphie needs to do it daily because of his coat. Without proper daily care, his hair gets oily and matted together very easily, which only makes it harder to deal with later. Beel knows that that's a lot to handle and often steps to brush out his twin's coat, even if he doesn't need any help in return. It's much easier for Belphie to feel motivated enough to help groom Beel than it is to care for himself, so their joint grooming helps them both.

On a similar note, Belphie has quite a bit of trouble with his horns and he constantly puts off taking care of them until they begin causing him physical discomfort. In the past, there's been a few times where he's let them grow a couple extra curls before they started weighing him down so much that he had to take care of it. With his twin's help, and a strictly imposed schedule, his horns haven't gotten that bad in ages, but they still tend to be rather rough most of the time. He also needs to sand down his hooves in a similar fashion. Normally, they'd be maintained just by walking on rough surfaces, but Belphie definitely doesn't walk around enough for that.

If Beel's not around to help out, Belphie has no qualms with playing the baby brother card and whining until one of the others agrees to help him. He's always willing to groom them in return, though, so he usually gets his way pretty easily.

[lucy90712]

Dream- quarantine

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks 

Wc- 1922

~ There has just been an announcement that we have to stay inside and quarantine for the foreseeable future. Obviously I'm not happy about it and in fact I'm quite scared but I know things will be somewhat ok because I have Clay with me. The two of us have been living together for a little under 6 months now so we aren't new to it so I'm hoping we should be ok.

Clay probably hasn't seen the news yet because he's been filming all morning but it won't be long before he's done and he finds out. I don't want to be the one to tell him because I know he's not going to be happy because him and George have been talking about him coming over for the last few months but that won't be able to happen now.

He soon finished his recording and came out to join me in the living room where I had the news on. He looked over and watched what was on the tv which changed his expression from a smile to a blank expression in seconds, he seemed just as upset as I was if not more.

"How long is this going to go on for?" He asked hoping I would know

"No idea they haven't said" I said

"I guess George isn't coming over then" he sighed

"I'm sorry but he will be able to come over eventually we just have to be patient you wouldn't want things to be unsafe when he comes here" I said

"Yeah I guess, at least I have you to keep me company" he said

He pulled me into him as he text George to tell him what was going on because obviously he wouldn't know. George FaceTimed him and we all had a talk about cancelling our plans at least for a bit but then we moved on to other things which made Clay a lot happier which was great because I hate when he's sad.

During the rest of the day me and Clay went to the store to get some things that we needed before it all sells out because people were flocking to buy essentials. It was stressful at the store but we stayed close to one another and managed to weave our way through mostly because Clay was so tall and can force his way through crowds. We made it out alive with most of what we needed so we called it a day just deciding that we would live without the stuff we couldn't get.

—————

It had been a little more than 3 weeks since quarantine commenced and my god has it been worse than I ever would have imagined, being stuck inside and only leaving to go to the store had really taken its toll on me and my mental health as well as Clay's sanity. He has been working constantly leaving me to do all the chores and be the one to go out even with cases rising at an alarming rate he doesn't seem too bothered.

We have also been arguing more than we used to with him spending so much time working and seeming to care so little I've kind of been mad at him but that doesn't seem to change anything. It's starting to feel like he just doesn't care about me anymore I mean he doesn't even come to bed at night most of the time and we only talk when I ask him what he wants to eat or when we're arguing. It's starting to feel like I'm losing him and I don't want that because I really do love him but I can't keep this up much longer I just feel like crying every night.

While Clay is doing whatever the hell he does during the day I was talking with sapnap because he called me out of the blue but it was nice to actually talk to someone for once. He was concerned that there was something wrong because Clay has been constantly available on discord when he normally takes breaks to spend time with me and he hasn't talked about me which he says he does a lot.

"Is everything alright between you two?" He asked

"I mean not really but I don't want to drop all of it in you so don't worry" I said

"No please tell me I don't mind" he said

"Ok well he's been spending all his time working making me do all the chores and go out whenever we need something most nights he just stays up then sleeps when I'm awake and we only talk when we argue or when I ask what he wants to eat" I rambled

"Y/n I'm sorry I can try and talk to him if you want me to" he offered

"No its ok he'll just be more mad if you say something I'll deal with it" I said

"You shouldn't have to put up with it he's not treating you like you deserve please don't just just let him do that to you" he said

"Ok I'll try and talk to him later" I said

Me and Nick came up with some sort of plan for later when he ends up talking to Clay he's going to leave the call so I can talk to him and have his full attention. He offered to do it sooner but I had things to do first that I had to get done as not to give Clay any reason to be mad at me even though I'm sure he'll find one.

Anxiety warning

I cleaned the kitchen and went to the store which was more packed than usual probably because of the timing but it stressed me out all on my own. People were pushing me out the way and people without masks on were getting all in my face and it scared me. This is the type of stuff I deal with all the time but today it was particularly bad to the point that I started shaking and struggling to breathe slightly in my mask. I had to try and get out of there as quick as possible which I did but probably forgetting some things in the process which means I'll have to come back probably tomorrow but I didn't care at the time.

Once outside and in my car I took my mask off and let myself breathe properly to calm myself down. It took me quite a long time to get a grip of my emotions and by the time I decided to leave I still wasn't feeling fully myself and my hands were still shaking slightly but that will probably go on for a little while longer. Nick text me just before I left saying that he was on call with Clay so whenever I was ready he would leave as he told George not to join to make things easier.

Back at home I made myself go into the bathroom to try and talk myself through what I was going to say and any comebacks I could think of to all the things Clay could say to me which was hard because he always manages to find something that I would never think of to say. I got my argument together but definitely lost the calm I had got back to earlier hands started shaking more again and becoming more clammy.

I text Nick to let him know I was ready and he text back almost right away to say that he had left the call and wished me luck as well as offered any help he could give if I needed it. I went into Clay's office to see him just sat at his desk doing nothing in particular at least that I could work out, he looked over and smiled at me which was not going to last long thats for sure.

"Clay can we talk?" I asked

"Yeah of course is everything alright?" He asked back

"I'm going to be honest with you I feel like you are ignoring me you are just working all the time and I get that your busy but before you always found time to spend with me and now I'm left to do everything by myself and it's starting to take its toll on me" I said as calm as possible

"You are kidding right I'm trying my best to support the both of us by doing all this work you think I want to be in here this much because I don't" he half yelled

"And I'm trying my best too I have been working from home everyday as well as keeping up with everything else and guess what I would rather not do that either but I do it to let you do all the stuff your doing, I had a fucking panic attack at the store earlier because it's all just too much" I said with more emotion this time

"You're not the only .... wait you had a panic attack I'm sorry I wasn't there to help" he said softly

It was like it hit him what I have been saying for weeks and it was kind of refreshing to have him finally snap out of whatever mindset he was in and come back to the real world where there are things that he needs to think about that's not just to do with me but his own health.

He got up for his chair and came over to give me a tight hug which I'm not going to lie felt nice because we haven't been this close in almost a month so it just feels nice to have some human contact. It calmed me down in seconds just like Clay does so well, he grabbed my hands and traced his thumbs over the back of them.

"I'm sorry y/n I'm so sorry I shouldn't have left you do do everything on your own you're right I've been spending too much time working and that's not fair on you" he said

"You don't need to beat yourself up over this I just wanted to get through to you and don't feel like you have to spend a ton of time with me I just want a better balance" I explained

He nodded and we talked things through like we needed to do this whole time, we worked things out and made some plans to better use both of our time but it was nothing that we had to stick to strictly or else that would cause more issues. We decided that Clay was going to try and be available to go to the store with me and most nights we are going to try and go to bed together or he will at least join me at some point.

During our discussion I got a text from Nick asking if everything went alright so I just sent a quick text back to say things went fine and should hopefully get better from now on.

Clay and I decided to spend the evening together and not just because he felt guilty he really just wanted to spend time with me after coming out of his old mindset and feeling tired of working. We didn't do much just spent time sat together on the sofa watching movies and eating takeaway. He had me sat on his lap pretty much the whole time holding onto my waist or playing with my hair.

[ninyard]

Heeey what do you think was that made Kevin finally leave the nest?

I wrote like a 2k word fic-of-an-answer to this one my friend but I wasn’t vibing with it! So I’m starting again. But same thing as the last draft of this answer; I think about Kevin leaving the nest ALL THE TIME

~

(“Keep mouthing off like a pair of fucking frogs.” Riko spat in English to them both. When Jean shut the door, “Do you think you’re better than I am?”

“Your ego will kill you someday.” He looked Riko in the eye. “I think you care too much about other people’s success to make yourself look better. You’re building your Court,” Kevin swallowed hard, still trying to hold his head up, gravity failing him as he started to tremble. “But you think it’s just guaranteed you’ll be on it.”)

~

Mandatory CW for The Breaking Of A Hand and Kevin Has Nothing To Live For. See also: the foxes are foxes and their lives are Fucked Up (suicide mention, overdose mention, panic attacks & drug use)

Okay.

Let’s. Talk. About. Kevin.

Idk if I’m allowed to say that Kevin is an underrated character. I really don’t think I am. But if I was allowed to say that I WOULD. I am so very passionate about Kevin I would absolutely die for him and he’s not even real. So let’s talk about his hand.

Can you even begin to imagine what was going through Kevin’s head that night? It looked like practice, then The Master talking about potential, then Riko is mad, then pain and blood and how do I get out of here? Then is it worth it if my life is over?

I think there probably was a minute where Kevin sat alone, covered in his own blood, just thinking there was no point in being alive anymore. His playing hand didn’t really look like a hand anymore, his life and reputation and everything he had worked for just pumping out of his hand and staining his shirt. He didn’t remember passing out but when he came to Riko was gone, and his body was running on fumes trying to keep the pain from overwhelming his system. He probably threw up, all over the locker room, his blood trickling through the tiles, the echo of his own screams ringing through his ears like a non-stop siren. He probably couldn’t really see properly for a little bit and he probably couldn’t move for a while, either. Riko was a foot shorter than him, but he made up for that difference by channeling every ounce of anger and jealousy he felt for Kevin into his feet to stomp the shit out of Kevin’s hand until he knew he would never play again. Jean found Kevin not long later, maybe a couple minutes, or an hour. Kevin begged him to get Riko out of his room. Jean wrapped Kevin’s hand up as best he could, and promised him to deal with it as long as Kevin was there when he got back. Jean had figured he was a flight risk, and knew if Kevin left, Riko’s French personal punching bag would come in handy to take out all his egotistical frustration on. Kevin promised he’d be there when Jean came back. Jean came back to his jacket and wallet missing, a tiny scrap of paper left on the bed, an almost illegible ‘sorry’ scrawled across it. He burned it in the bathroom sink before Riko could find it.

So Kevin’s in his car, and he’s driving. He doesn’t know where yet, and man, is he a hazard. Twice on his journey he nearly knocked out behind the wheel, his head bobbing as the pain begged his body to sleep. He probably had to pull over a couple times to be sick, or to have a panic attack, or both. I know he went through the stages of grief on that drive to Virginia. He probably turned on his radio at some point and laughed, how ridiculous he looked, how dangerous it was to be driving one handed. It took him double the amount of time it would normally have because he just. Had to keep stopping. There’s no way he made that journey in a solid drive.

But also I think he probably didn’t have a plan before he was driving. He knew the Southeastern district were holding the Christmas banquet that night, but that was a secondary thought. His first worry was getting out of the nest. His second worry was whether he was going to kill himself or not. The reason he didn’t just do it? David. The thing that pulled Kevin back off that metaphorical ledge was Coach David Wymack. The only other people who knew about his moms letter were Tetsuji, Jean and Riko. Kevin knew well that none of them would be calling up to break the news to Wymack if he died, and David would grow old and die without ever having known that Kevin Day was his son. David was the reason he was risking everything on busy streets and highways and whatever roads he drove too fast or too slow on.

So, he’s in Virginia without a plan. He doesn’t know what hotel David’s in, if he’s even still in Virginia, if the foxes even bothered to show up. So he looks at as many hotels as he could find. He narrows down the list by looking at the ones he knew the Class I teams frequented, and he called the all pretending to be David, looking for his rooms number. After the fifth call he found it.

Think about Kevin’s anxiety in the elevator, hand throbbing, not profusely bleeding anymore, but every minute that passes is a percentage off the chances he has at keeping his hand and playing again. His heart is racing, his head heavy, every fibre in his being screaming.

David calls out a “Hold your fucking horses, give me a minute!” when Kevin knocks on his door a second time after his first knock received no answer. David opens the door with Abby just behind him, and his face falls so quickly it could’ve hit the floor.

“Kevin.” He looks him up and down, not yet noticing the t-shirt covered in blood he had wrapped around his hand. “Kevin Day. Mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

Abby pushes past him to unwrap Kevin’s hand. It must be some nurses instinct, to be instantly drawn to looking for an injury on a person. Kevin pulled it back as gently as he could, looking up and down the hall before asking so quietly it almost couldn’t be heard. “Can I come in?”

David makes small talk with Kevin as he shuts the hotel door behind him. What would he say? What could he possibly say to superstar Kevin Day, who he’d only officially met as a baby, when his mother was alive and he wasn’t destined for Court? He probably tried to make meaningless, awkward small talk until Abby shut him up to ask Kevin what happened. He just started to cry. Small whimpers into chesty, heaving, heavy cries, his body teetering on the edge of a panic attack. David had seen his foxes in bad ways before. He’d seen one of his kids convulsing on a stretcher after an accidental overdose, or a fox who’d choked on their own vomit after an intentional one. He’d seen his foxes in their worst moments, panic attacks and withdrawals, anger and sadness, pulling their hair out and on the brink of death. Something about this was the same but different. When Seth first overdosed on the team it was a cry for help, or when Janie admitted herself to the psych ward for a week, it was because she wanted to try. When Damien asked for a second, and third, and fourth chance David gave it to him because that was what Foxes deserved. It took him a moment of watching Kevin heave, snot and spit running down his chin, his hair falling over his face, his body shaking with anxiety, to remember that Kevin wasn’t a fox. Kevin was a Raven, and by god, that was so much worse.

I think we all know that Abby cares for her foxes like she’s their mother, but Kevin is just different. Abby had been seeing David long enough to know how much Kayleigh Day had really meant to him, and how much it hurt to watch Kevin do her proud. Now Kevin was sitting in front of her, his hand practically lifeless, his heart pouring out of every place it could. She tried not to look at David’s face as he paced the room, watching her patch up Kevin’s hand as best she could. Kevin only started to calm down when she handed him a bottle of Diazepam and some water.

And then Kevin whispers that Riko did it. David almost didn’t hear him. He nearly asked for him to repeat it until it hit him. Riko did it. Riko smashed the hand of his number two so badly it would take a long time for him to play again, if he even wanted to. Abby sent him a deathly glare when he mumbled to himself; “I’ll kill that little jumped up piece of shit”.

The rest is history; Kevin passes out not long after, David carries him to the bus, and they drive to the stadium to pick up the foxes. Kevin sleeps the rest of the way until the sun is starting to rise and they’re back in South Carolina. Kevin doesn’t stop crying on and off again for a couple days, and Abby had to hold him back from escaping more than once. After watching his anxiety consume him, and when he told her none of the Ravens were allowed to be medicated in any manner, she got him a script for some quick-acting anxiety meds for him to keep. It took him a week of energy-sapping panic attacks before she could convince him to actually take them as he needed them.

David took out a loan five days after Kevin had arrived into his care. He called Edgar Allan on the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth day. By the ninth day Kevin was released from the grips of Ravens. By the tenth day they had started the process of making Kevin Day a fox. I suppose it’s for the best Riko fucked up his hand so badly, isn’t it? At least it gave him the ability to fit into the eligibility criteria for being a Fox. Welcome to the club, Kevin Day, and prepare to be gravely disappointed.

[aetheternity]

How to be a big brother when you've never been a big brother P2 (1k followers special)

Synopsis: In which Levi's been dating you for a year and a half and gets the news that Kuchel's pregnant.

Emergency in babysitting (cont):

Levi.."

"Hug me back." He demands you tug him in by his shoulders and he grips your shirt. Meanwhile you're also trying to keep Chance from crying again by swaying your hips. "Boys, I need to get to the stove." You say, already smelling the mashed potatoes burning.

As if you weren't struggling enough the smoke alarm blared so loud it shocked Chance back into tears. You groaned into your hand, "Levi please.. do you think you can fan the alarm?"

He pulls away from you slowly looking around the kitchen, "Grab the pot holder!" You say "Wait, I need the pot holder!"

You yank it before he can reach it and he looks back at you for some kind of instruction. Eyes glazed over with a softness you'd rarely ever seen from him.

"It's ok." You explain not completely sure on who it was directed towards. You swipe at the burning pot on the stove, pulling the lid off to give the ingredients some air while the smoke alarm continued its obnoxious blaring. "Levi, the place mats!" You point; clumsily turning the stove off.

You turn to hug a still fussy Chance in by the waist; shhing and swaying him while Levi weirdly swatted at the still screaming alarm. The alarm finally dissipated and you held Chance close kissing the sides of his forehead and running a thumb soothingly under his eyelashes. Thankful for the eventually sigh of relief that left his lips.

"There that's so much better right?" Without a second thought Levi dropped the place mat trotting over to you to bury his face in your chest. "Ugh my sweet boys what're we gonna do about this??"

You keep Levi's head resting against your shoulder with one hand carefully and gently walking both boys towards the discarded place mat. Not even bothering to fix it properly you toss it over to the table. Might as well deal with it early in the morning before Levi wakes up.

With both boys resting against a part of your body, you walk your way back to the stove sighing over the amalgamation of your struggle with both of them and too little water added to the pot.

"Chance.."

"Mashed potatoes.." He gestures, tiny fists reaching for it.

"I don't know babes it looks kinda gross." You place Chance on the counter not wanting to try to grab a utensil while holding him and Levi.

You scoot a couple feet away reaching out for a tablespoon. In the process of this a loud clatter echoes through the kitchen. You let go of Levi turning to see the disgusting mixture of mashed potatoes splattered all over the floor, Chance's pants his shoes and the counter.

Chance screamed, mouth agape, tears flowing down his face. He kicked around, voice a higher pitch then the smoke alarm minutes ago.

"Aww Chance no please don't cry." You whispered close to his ear.

"Y/N." Levi immediately tugged at your sleeve seeing your attention diverted.

Your free hand came up to run through your hair, eyebrows etched together on your face. The realization that this was probably going to be the rest of your night hit you like a freight train.

"Levi, I have to take care of Chance for a little while ok? I'm gonna give him a bath and put him to sleep then I'll be back to sleep with you ok."

Levi reached out for your sleeve again not quite as satisfied with your answer as you would've hoped.

"Right after?" He questioned, playing with the fabric.

"Yes, I promise." You reached out for his cheek and he leaned into your touch.

"I won't fall asleep, I'll wait for you." He says

You give him a little nod and he takes off towards your shared bedroom. You rock Chance softly, curling your fingers through his soft hair as his crying falls slowly into little hiccups and whines.

"It'll be ok." You whisper

"Mashed potatoes." He replies, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you search around his bag for a towel, body wash and his pj's.

"I promise I'll make you more if you let me get you out of these gross clothes."

The same gross clothes that were currently dripping mashed potato onto your once clean shirt. But that was something you could fix later. You headed into the bathroom hanging his towel next to Levi's with his kiddie bubble gum body wash on the edge of the tub, placing his clean clothes on the sink top.

"Ok can you lift your arms for me?" He did as he was told and you pulled the article of clothing seamlessly off his body and onto the bath mat he was currently sitting on. "Don't cry sweetie it's ok."

You pressed your thumb to his cheeks tracing the lines his tears had left behind. Opening the little drawer under the sink you pulled out a clean wash cloth quickly removing the rest of Chance's clothes and turning on the water for the sink.

Once you'd checked the water to make sure it was a good temperature cleaning Chance off went smoothly. You ended up splashing water on his back a lot and gently patting the shell of his ears (because it made him giggle). And the body wash smelled so good that Chance was yawning with heavy eye lids by the time you'd dried him off and gotten him into his pj's.

His fingers etched into your sleep tee, head heavy on your shoulder as you slowly but surely get him down into the crib for the night. His thin blue blanket eventually tugged into his mouth. You decide to only dim the light in case he'd wake up afraid and slightly shut the door turning the baby monitor on the dresser on.

You make your way to the stairs, stopping when you see the soles of Levi's shoes at the edge of the banister.

"Oh God, Levi!" A part of you is still trying to be quiet while another part is basically throwing caution to the wind as you kneel next to where Levi's laying on the second to top stair and a couple in between.

"I didn't fall." He mutters, squeezing the banister between his fingers.

"Oh Levi.. why didn't you go to bed?"

Levi blinks, pulling his knees into his chest. "Mm so hungry.." He huffs

"At this rate you'll eat us out of house and home." You giggle. You reach for his hand and you expect him to get up when he takes it but he doesn't move.

"Levi?"

"Why.. doesn’t Chance like me?.." You crouch to his level and he sneaks a glance at you over his shoulder. "Please don't tell me he doesn't. He smiles at Kuchel, Kenny, My step dad, you, Mikasa and even Armin and Eren. So what could I possibly be doing wrong that he already wants nothing to do with me?"

"Levi, he's only two! He doesn't know what he wants yet." You chuckle warmly hoping to break the tension. "And I know you said don't tell me he doesn't hate me but he doesn't. Who knows why he acts differently towards you but it's not hatred. He's probably conflicted because you show the least amount of affection towards him on a daily basis."

You reach out to his face stroking his hair back from his eyes. Under the thin veil of dark hair you can see the smallest shield of tears forming over his pretty grey irises.

"Really?" He exhales as if that's the best thing he's heard all night.

"Yes baby, I think he's nervous around you and he's putting up his shields. But it definitely won't last forever."

He unclenches his fingers from the banister reaching out for your arm with shaky fingers. He pushes his free hand under your arm leaning into your chest and gently presses his head to your boob.

"Are you still hungry?"

"Sleepy." He whispers, gripping you a little tighter.

You pat his knee with the hand he's not holding, "Let's go to bed then."

Chance's first day of Preschool

• You and Levi had offered to walk Chance to his first day of preschool as Kuchel and his father had to be to work earlier than normal that day.

• By the time you and Levi arrived at the house Kuchel was up and arms with supplies for work and Chance's stuff.

• It took the two of you almost twenty minutes to separate everything which you got a quick thank you for and just as soon Kuchel was out the door quickly kissing her sons goodbye followed by Chance's father.

• "Ready for you first day?" You asked Chance

• He nodded smile small with a little blush tinting his cheeks.

• He laid his head on your shoulder as you, him and Levi exited locking the door with the emergency key.

"You're coddling him again." Levi didn't fail to mention as the three of you left the house.

"I'm not coddling." You replied as you rocked Chance on your hip.

"What word would you rather describe it as?" He asked

"Well, I'm just being supportive of my favorite boy. This is his first day of preschool after all." You rubbed Chance's tummy and he snuggled in closer to you.

"Mmhm." Levi murmured 

"Are you excited?"

"Should I be?" Chance asked without missing a beat.

"Sure, I mean you're finally at the age where you can learn stuff, meet new people and finger paint. You don't have to agree but I think that's the best part."

Chance straightens looking up at you with warm eyes, "Are you staying with me?"

"No, no I'm not but Levi might." You gesture to Levi with a smirk.

"I don't want Levi, I want you." Chance huffs resting his forehead back into the crook of your neck.

"I was just kidding babes he's not staying either ok? This is just your thing. Your first experience as a lone wolf."

You snicker a little at the feeling of tiny nails gripping you a little bit tighter. You knew the reference to Chance's favorite animal would be the thing that drew him in. You give his backpack a little pat,

"Is this heavy? Do you wanna let Levi hold it for a bit?" Levi sticks his hand out as if already ready to receive the item but,

"No!" Chance reaches for the strap gripping it roughly.

"Ok ok." You replied

A couple stray hairs blew back from his face and you coaxed them down with the palm of your hand. Using the same hand you carded your fingers through his tousled bangs redirecting hair back from his face.

"Kuchel's gonna pick him up later right?" Levi asked

"Yup she wants at least one part of this experience." The entrance to the school stood as plain as day and you froze with Chance still in your arms.

"Don't tell me you're having doubts now." Levi sighed

"No, no of course not."

Chance shook his head wildly, "Wanna stay with you." He blubbered as if feeling your hesitation.

"She has work." Levi replied plainly

"Chance." You start when you see the glimpse of tears forming. "You'll see me later." You start walking again.

"Only you?"

"Me and Levi."

Chance grunts bringing the arms once wrapped around your neck to fall over his chest. "Not Levi. Just you." He whimpers

"Levi and I are together so we'll both see you. And I promise we'll ask you lots of questions about your day when you get out." Chance shook his head as Levi held the door open for the two of you.

"If you're gonna be a brat you'll see neither of us." Levi said

"Levi-"

"I don't wanna see you anyway." Chance screamed

"Chance!"

The halls were cold and you felt yourself walking just a little bit faster as you could see the light from the classroom and Chance's teacher's name embroidered on the door.

"That's enough from both of you, alright."

"Hello." The woman in charge of the class stepped into the hall. "And who might this little cutie be?"

She lowers herself so that she's eye level with Chance, smile wide and hair tied in a messy bun. You're honestly surprised when Chance introduces himself.

"Hi Chance, it's fabulous to meet you." She replies "Wanna come inside?"

Chance nods rather quickly and you let him down only for him to race inside without another word.

"He's more excited then I thought he'd be." You say

"Let's go, we have work." Levi says but he pats your back as if sensing your hesitation.

Before the two of you can actually leave the click of Chance's sneakers on the polished tiled floor makes you stop in your tracks.

"Bye Y/N!" You hear him call.

You wave, smile bright as you turn back around. Levi looks too stands as if having his own apprehensive thoughts.

"Say goodbye to Levi too!" You call to him. But he quickly vanishes sneaker sounds trailing away until it was like they were never there at all. "He says goodbye."

Levi doesn't say a word. Just guides you back through the halls the way you both came in.

An Ackerman Christmas (Sorry to all the people who don't celebrate Christmas but I also don't so this is excluding me too.):

• On the day before Christmas Kuchel had invited you and Levi over as well as Mikasa and Kenny.

• The entire drive was silent thanks to Levi being a radio hog.

• When you guys arrived Mikasa was sitting on the couch with Chance's dad and Kenny making a little holly necklace for Chance.

• You'd both been there less than four minutes when Kuchel invited you and Levi into the kitchen.

• Kuchel had the house decked out in lights, smelling like gingerbread and covered in little Santa dolls.

"Listen Levi, you're gonna hold Chance for the family Christmas card." She said handing you and Levi Santa hats. "I know you and Chance have some kind of weird sibling beef between you but it's the holidays and I want my two children to get along and take one decent photo."

You snorted, "You have beef with a five year old.."

Levi gave you a look over his shoulder, "You know it isn't my intention to constantly fight with Chance." He explains to Kuchel.

"I know sweetie but this has gone on too long. There isn't one picture of you holding Chance at all. Everyone else in our photo album has at least one picture with him in their arms."

You chewed the edge of a cookie Kuchel had handed you when you'd walked into the kitchen. "How is this picture going to be festive with a plan like this."

Kuchel sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. "Catching Chance off guard is the real plan." She says more to herself than you. "We'll do it now before everyone's eaten so that we can get some genuine smiles."

She walks out into the living room with the camera she'd taken off the table announcing the Christmas card just to be met with a long range of sighs and groans from the peanut gallery.

"Hey." You nudge Levi with your elbow. He pops his head up making eye contact with your warm smile. "Break a leg."

"Tch, that's for performances."

"Getting Chance to stay still in your arms will be a performance everyone looks forward to."

The sounds of both your shoes clicking on the hardwood alerted Kuchel who was busy pushing everyone into a small sort of formation. Eggnog promptly snatched from Kenny's hand ignoring his grunts and Chance taken from Mikasa.

When she reached for him again Kuchel jerked her head to the side gesturing to the bowl discarded on the lounge chair in the corner of the room.

"Mikasa I need you to hold that." She explained "Here Levi." With a quick kiss to both boys temples she dropped Chance in Levi's arms.

Chance wore slacks and the warmest (ugliest) Christmas sweater you'd ever seen. Though he cooperated smoothly. Holding Levi's arm as he was repositioned with Kuchel's help. His little hat almost falling over his eyes until Levi pushed the brim back up.

You stood beside Levi on his left with Mikasa standing on the far right a little bit behind him. Kenny and Chance's father just behind you and Levi as Chance squirmed a bit but that was really the only noticeable discomfort he showed.

"Ok, it's on a count down timer so I put it on 1 minute." Kuchel clapped getting into position at Chance's back. Close enough that Mikasa was still in view.

"One minute?!" Kenny groaned "Man, I don't wanna stand here that long.."

"You will stand there for one minute it won't kill you. Unlike all that drinking you do." Kuchel huffed

"Why'd you make the countdown so long??" Chance's father was next to complain.

"I don't know how to do seconds on that thing."

"Oh I do." You chimed in.

"Never mind that honey, it'll probably snap the picture while you're standing back there." Kuchel looked over her shoulder. "Mikasa, make sure to hold the bowl so the seeds are in full view."

"Seeds?" Levi asked

"She's holding a bowl full of different dyed seeds and little beads. I thought it'd be pretty."

You couldn't help but trail your eyes to Levi his smile small but so warm and sweet. Head tilted just enough that you could see every bit of the pretty glow this lighting had on his face. Perfectly accenting his cheek bones and the cool grey of his irises.

"Ok get ready guys!" Kuchel announced, leaning in just a little bit closer to Chance who you noticed had his head tilted down. Lips parted for little breaths to fall off his lips.

Before you could say a word the bright flash nearly blinded you. Your smile coming back at the last second. Two more clicks and everyone was relaxing back into their normal stature. In that same second Chance heeled over, coughing and spewing up everything he'd eaten within the past hour right onto Levi's pants and shoes.

"Oh God." Kuchel reached out for Chance lifting him into her arms as Mikasa snatched a napkin off the table to wipe his mouth. "Levi, go get a wet towel from the bathroom."

"Did he eat too many cookies?" You asked as Kuchel rocked Chance in her arms.

"I told you not to give him anymore." She huffed finger pointed at Kenny.

"He looks so cute eating them!" Kenny shrugged

"Ugh."

You ran to catch up with Levi who sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom furiously rubbing at the stains on his pants.

"Baby.." Your heels clicked as you settled onto the floor taking the wet napkin from his loose finger tips. With gentle hands you grazed the item over his knees and down to the soaked strings of his formal shoes. "It's ok, or it'll be ok-"

"I'm gonna pull the car out front." He muttered "And we can go home so I can change."

You placed the napkin at your feet. "Do you wanna come back later?"

The door peaked open and Mikasa poked her head in before quickly entering and shutting the door behind herself.

"How's Chance?" You ask biting your tongue.

"He'll be fine." She assured "How're you?"

"Covered in a little kid's vomit." Levi answered

Mikasa came closer, plopping down on her heels in front of you. "Why does Chance hate him so much?"

"Mikasa!"

Levi huffed, slumping back where he was sitting against the back of the toilet.

"I don't know." You shrugged with a laugh. "I don't know and it's like I thought it would get better I figured whatever weird grudge that kid has against Levi would eventually go away! I mean it had to right? But here we are five years after Chance was born and I'm sure if it had been anyone else holding him that wouldn't have happened."

The break in your voice made Mikasa throw an arm over your shoulder. You sighed leaning into her touch and without warning the palm of Levi's hand came down to rest on your temple.

"At some point he'll give in and the truth will come out." He says "You'll see."

Chance gets in trouble at preschool

• Somehow you and Levi had been written as the school's emergency contact instead of Kuchel

• So not only did the two of you have to head down to the school to pick up Chance but you also had to change the emergency contact information the teacher had.

"Ok Chance what's your deal today? Why'd you throw paint and that boy?" Chance didn't speak but the squeeze of his nails against the back of your hand let you know that he was listening.

"You might as well talk otherwise we're just gonna get into the car and sit there." Levi warned on Chance's other side.

"I don't have to tell you anything." Chance muttered "You're not my parent."

"When Kuchel finds out you're gonna have to talk anyway so you might as well explain." You said

"I have nothing to say to you!" Chance screamed

"Chance-"

Levi stopped you with an outstretched arm as Chance yanked his hand from yours. "Go back to work." He said plainly

"Levi-"

"I'm gonna take him to Kuchel, you need to head back to work you have paperwork to finish."

Your eyes dart between a sniffling Chance and Levi. "Are you sure?"

"Do you think I can make this situation worse?"

"You don't want me to answer that.." You giggle he sends you a blank stare. "Ok.. ok let me know how it goes later." You press a quick kiss to his cheek trying to give Chance one as well only for him to dodge you with a loud grunt. And with that you're off.

"Get in the car Chance." Levi pulls the door open gesturing to the seat.

"No!" He pouts

"Ok. I'll just send mom to come pick you up later. Maybe she'll still find you here."

Unsurprisingly Chance doesn't move when he sees Levi leave his sight and for a couple seconds after the drivers seat door shuts he still doesn't move. It isn't till Levi turns on the ignition that Chance wrenches the door next to him open. Yanks his bag off to throw it inside and hops uncomfortable into the seat next to it. Pulling his seatbelt through the loop haphazardly and needing Levi's help to click it into the clasp.

With a little bit of trouble Levi pulls out of park and smoothly drives into traffic with a slow sigh.

"Hey, mom's jobs that way." Chance mentioned tugging on his seat belt.

"You've got a smart eye." Levi replied "I'm taking you home instead."

"What for?"

"So you can spend the hours you would be at school with me instead. I already took the rest of the day off."

Safe to say Levi enjoyed the subtle bulge of Chance's already doe eyes and the huff when he realized there was no way he could get out this.

Out of force of habit Levi knocked on the front door before turning the key in the lock and pushing the heavy frame in for Chance to walk into his house.

"Put your book bag down and join me in the kitchen." Levi explained, pointing to the rack next to the door as he headed toward the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" He asked as Chance followed

"Why?" Chance asked the slight tension in his voice making Levi turn from where he'd already begun raiding the fridge for ingredients.

"I was going to make sandwiches."

"Why would you bring me here? Why're you being so nice? And why aren't you putting me on time out or something?" Words flowed out of Chance's mouth as Levi placed a sandwich right in front of him. His favorite in fact: tuna with the crust cut off and little tomatoes mixed in.

When Levi finished making his own sandwich he plopped into the seat across from Chance. "Because I've realized something about our relationship. I've never talked to you alone, I've never pulled you aside and really talked to you man to man. I only know what mom or Mikasa or Y/N have told me about you."

Chance peered down at his sandwich, tears glazing over his grey eyes. "Don't you hate me?"

"For?"

"Mom calls you less cause she's busy with me and Dad says you've never had to share her cause you grew up as an only child.."

Levi yanked a couple napkins from the center of the table, patting Chance's wet cheeks.

"I don't know if you've noticed but Kuchel loves being a mom. And when she had you she had this glow to her that I haven't seen since I was kid. You're the reason for that."

"Then.. don't you hate me.. for how much trouble I cause you?"

Levi lets his gaze flicker away as if he's thinking only to make eye contact with Chance again. "I don't but the way you treated Y/N today was unacceptable, you owe her an apology because she's done nothing but love you since the moment you were born and before that."

"Ok.."

"Hey." With his thumb under Chance's chin he coaxed Chance's face back towards him. "Let's not wait until you get in trouble at school to do this again."

Once Chance had finished his sandwich Levi had automatically done a half house inspection. Cleaning up any clothes left on the floor, wiping down counter tops and with Chance's help sorting clothes that were going to go in the washing machine.

By the time they'd finished Kuchel was walking through the door seemingly tuckered out but still managing to tackle her when she came in the door.

"Chance? Levi?"

"Rough day." Levi explained

"So that's what your father was on about on the phone." She directed her attention to Chance as she held him up. "I'm so sorry you had to call off work for this." She said, pressing a soft kiss to Levi's cheek.

"I wanted to do it." Levi replied

Kuchel turned her attention back to a guilty looking Chance. "And you, why'd you throw that paint on that boy."

"I just.. he.. he was telling me about his older brother in the sea."

Kuchel turned to Levi with an eyebrow raised, "Deployed Marine." He patiently explained

"And.. he was saying that when his brother was home him and his family would do everything for him and his brother would take him fishing and to the movies and and.." Chance sniffed

"Sounds like jealousy to me." Kuchel sighed rubbing the back of her son's head. "You know you have to apologize right?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Thank you again Levi." Kuchel smiled warmly the lines of her face slowly beginning to relax.

"Thank you Levi." Chance whispered

With a nod and a small pat to Chance's back Levi was off climbing into his car with a long exhale. Before he could start it though the buzz of his phone caught him off guard and he wiggled it from his pocket opening the notification immediately.

How'd it go?? Y/n asked with praying hands accompanying the text.

We bonded like you wanted was all he sent back.

[soundtrack-scribe]

Are We?

A/N: Based on Are We by Taylor Acorn cuz I’m obsessed with her music (and you should be too)

Word Count: 1.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

You could feel the music from Michael’s DJ setup thumping in your bones as you stepped outside, the cool night air immediately bringing goosebumps to your arms. You slid into the jacket you brought with you, catching a lingering scent of cologne as you did, and sighed. That’s what you got for leaving your jacket right next to his. That’s what you got for having his hoodie on your dresser in the first place.

“Yeah, it’s a lil on the cold side, isn’t it?” a familiar voice drifted into your ear and you turned to the sound.

“A little, yeah. Too bad you left your hoodie at my place.”

“Eh,” Ashton shrugged. “I don’t mind if it stays there honestly. I have plenty of others. And I’m over at your place a lot, so at least I know I’ll always have a back up if I need it, ya know.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” you tried to laugh off as you raised your gaze to properly meet his, feeling your stomach tie itself in knots. 

“You good?” he prompted after a beat of watching you work your mouth, trying to form words and failing.

What are we? is what you wanted to ask, but what came out was a forced smile and a choked “Yeah, I’m good. Gonna grab a drink. Catch up later?”

“Sure thing,” he mumbled as you quickly walked off, before muttering a string of curses under his breath. “Just fuckin’ talk to her, for fuck’s sake…”

~~~

“Hey, I’m Ashton,” the brunette smiled widely at you, offering his hand.

“Y/N,” you smiled back, shaking his hand.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

Ashton giggled, pushing a hand through his hair. “Alright then. Well… if you change your mind…”

“I probably won’t, but I’ll find you if I do.”

“Cool.”

You sighed, maybe a little dreamily, as he walked off. Sure, he was cute. But the first time meeting butterflies in your stomach would settle eventually. And with how you and Ashton appeared to run in the same circle of friends, you needed the phase to pass without playing into it. A relationship was the last thing you needed right now anyway. 

~~~

“Some fuckin’ phase…” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed a water bottle from a cooler. When you turned, you could see Ashton chatting with other friends of yours, his shirt being pulled tight against his back and shoulders as he moved his hands animatedly.

Your mind raced with who’s fault it was for the storm you couldn’t make sense of. On one hand, rationally, you knew it was your fault for being the one to set the friend boundary in the first place. But Ashton was the one who had crossed it. And now you were the one who felt like the clingy one-night stand, trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together with both sides blank. Although, in hindsight, maybe if it had only been a one-night stand, you could be playing it cool like he was.

~~~

“Oh, my God, get a room!” Calum groaned before chucking a pillow at Luke, and another one at Michael. “We have a rule against fucking in a public space for a reason.”

“We’re not fucking,” Michael defended, his words mumbled as his lips stayed locked on Crystal’s.

“Well, fuck you, I’m going to bed then. And wearing ear plugs I guess…” Calum rose to his feet with a huff.

“Night, mate,” Luke told him as he and Sierra came up for air, their foreheads knocking gently against each other’s.

Now alone to deal with the two couples making out like sex-crazed teenagers, you and Ashton shared a look where he made a kissy face that had you busting up laughing. 

“Alright, fine!” Michael threw up his hands in defeat. “We’ll go to bed.”

“Have fun!” Ashton grinned.

“Use protection!” you joined in on the teasing as both couples headed to their own rooms. “Ugh…” you sighed, stretching your arms over your head. “Is it wrong to be jealous?”

“Jealous of what? That?” Ashton asked, motioning towards Luke and Michael’s rooms.

“Yeah. Not necessarily the relationship bit. Still not sure I want that. But God, to just get fucked senseless by someone who’s not a rando every now and again would be nice.”

“Well…” he started, and you noticed the subtle switch to his suggestive tone. “You know where my room is.”

“Are you seriously trying to hit on me right now?”

He shrugged, raising his hands defensively. “Look. You’re the one who said you wanted to get fucked senseless by someone who’s not a rando. I just happen to be someone who’s not a rando to you, and I have a great track record of being one hell of a lay. So… you could just go to your room, and do whatever it is you do. Or you could come to mine, and I’ll treat you to a good time, no awkwardness afterward guaranteed.”

“No one can know.”

“Pity… I like ‘em loud.”

“Ashton.”

“Alright, alright. This stays between you and me, got it. Not a problem.”

~~~

Both of you thought that it would just be that night. That if it happened too much, things would either get awkward, or you’d run the risk of your friends catching on. But sex with Ashton was like a drug. And now things were definitely awkward. Or at least, you were awkward. And you didn’t know how to take it all back. To be the people you were when you first met. And more than that, you didn’t want that. All this time, you thought it was space that you needed. But Ashton wasn’t someone you could erase. Because even if you acted like regular friends in public, those moments underneath the sheets were heaven. But you could do without each middle-of-the-night goodbye tearing you more and more apart. You could do without thinking about him in every spare moment, and second guessing everything you ever thought you knew about him. And you could really do without crying every time you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter whether it's all in your head, or if it’s real. But alas, it seemed like you were destined to be just another woman who fell for Ashton Irwin, wishing to wake up with him still next to you just once. 

~~~

You stayed at Michael’s party for a while longer, making your rounds, while avoiding Ashton as much as you could, until you started your rounds of goodbyes.

“Headed out?” Ashton questioned, one arm wrapping around you for a side hug that made your insides twist more.

“Long day,” you half-lied.

He pulled a frown, wondering how much he should believe you or not. “Well, alright then. Text me when you get home so I know you got there safe?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And uh…” he paused as his eyes darted around, checking to see if anyone was in earshot. “Call if you need to.” His breath was hot as it brushed against your ear, before his lips planted a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“Yep, see ya!” you said, maybe louder than you needed to before making your final exit.

Don’t call him, you thought on a loop the whole drive back to your apartment. 

Don’t call him, you thought as you texted the group chat that you got home, rather than just him. 

Don’t call him, you thought as you stared at your phone screen, finger hovering over his contact info. 

Sighing, you set your phone face down on your nightstand. It’s not like calling him would do any good if you didn’t know what to say anyhow. 

“Seriously, don’t do it,” you whispered to yourself as you changed into his hoodie for bed. If you couldn’t have him the way you wanted, this would have to be enough. Everything with all its complications would have to be enough.

You were double checking locks and turning off lights when your phone started ringing. You didn’t have time to process the name calling as you hit accept. “Hello?”

“Hey…” Ashton’s voice responded, sounding almost broken. 

“You alright?”

“Are you?” he countered. 

“Ash… look, it’s late, and I’m pretty tired.”

“I’m not calling you for sex, Y/N.”

“Then what else are you calling me for this late?”

“Would you just let me in please? It’s freezing out here.”

“Are you…?” You made your way through your apartment to the door, twisting the lock and pulling it open. “What are you…?”

“So you sleep in my clothes now?” Ashton asked, in lieu of answering your own half-asked questions. 

“It’s comfortable…” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, as he walked past you, and sat down on your couch.

“I’m not mad,” he said, as you shut the door and made your way to sit next to him. “I mean, it’s fine. I don’t care that you wear it. It uh… looks good on you that way.” As if to illustrate his point, his fingers ran over your bare thighs.

You shifted away from his touch, tucking your legs underneath you. “What do you want, Ash?” you asked, cutting straight to the point. 

“I honestly don’t know. Cuz it changes. Sometimes I want my friend back because I feel like I’m losing her, especially these past few days. And other days… I dunno.”

“You think you’re losing me?”

“I mean…” he shrugged. “I hope I’m wrong. But yeah. It feels like that sometimes.”

“Ash…” You reached out to cradle his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing across his cheekbones. “You’re not losing me.”

“But it feels that way.” His hands pulled yours away from his face, but continued to hold them tightly as your hands dropped in his lap. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing! You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like something’s changed?”

“Because something has changed, Ash.”

“Well, tell me! Tell me what it is, and I’ll fix it.”

“It’s me, Ash. I’m the something that’s changed.”

“I- I don’t think I understand.”

“I love you, Ashton.”

“I love you, too.”

“No. I’m in love with you.”

“Okay, and what’s so wrong with that?”

“Because you’re not in love with me back! Because I did this to myself! I tried to keep my distance because the last time I fell for someone I got hurt! But I let you get close anyway, because you’re you! And now I’m falling, and dammit I don’t wanna get hurt again!”

“Shh,” he soothed, pulling you into him as hot tears spilled down your face and onto his shirt. “Shh, it’s alright, Y/N. Everything’s alright.”

“No it’s not!” you sobbed into his chest. “I don’t know what we are, Ash! Are we just friends who have sex sometimes? Is that all we get to be to each other?”

“Look at me,” he coaxed gently, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “God damn it, look at me,” he repeated more sternly when you didn’t, his hands guiding your face to look at him. “Remember how I said I thought I was losing you?” he asked, his thumbs brushing away the tears as they continued to roll.

You sniffed loudly as you nodded.

“It’s because I’m in love with you, too. I thought I was pushing too far, and that’s why you were pulling away.”

You shook your head. “N-no. I was pu-pulling away, cuz I’m sc-scared to be in love with y-you.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be scared of that.”

“I d-don’t?”

He chuckled lightly, placing soft kisses along your hairline. “Of course not,” he murmured. “Because we’re friends first, which means I’m not going anywhere.”

“But we’re more than that, too?”

“So much more than that.”

“Ash? Will you stay with me tonight? And be here in the morning?”

“Of course, baby.”

__

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[mandoinevarro]

An Overdue Debt

Words: 4.3K

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut, fingering, mentions of violence, spoilers for The Mandalorian

a/n: rip IG-11 but im different

The Mandalorian had gotten used to finding you on his cot. On the nights he’d manage to make it back to the ship, after capturing quarry or escaping bounty hunters chasing the child; after making it out of every peril that crossed his path within an inch of his life day after exhausting day, he’d climb the ramp and find you on his cot.

Usually, by the time the hunter had shut the hull and carbon frozen his bounties, the baby would already be asleep, the ship orderly, and all controls double-checked and ready for takeoff. You were thorough. It seemed to him like you had a sixth sense. From the day he’d hired you, he’d seen you tinkle with every item in the sad collection of the Razor Crest’s old and overused equipment that would’ve fallen apart otherwise. You would oil his gear, check controls, and do any number of things to facilitate the smooth sailing of his ship.

He hadn’t heard the kid cry in weeks. Before the tiny infant could get a chance to work some tears out of his sooty eyes, you were already feeding him, burping him, or providing him with whatever it was that would sooth the surging tantrum immediately. It amazed him how you seemed to be able to fix just about everything you’d touch with those soft little hands of yours. The same hands that he would imagine fondly tracing every dip and scar on his chest and raising goosebumps on his skin, on the days when he’d feel particularly lonely.

Little by little, you’d repaired, oiled, and mended your way into the Mandalorian’s existence, making yourself a crucial part of his everyday life. It only took a couple of weeks for the bounty hunter to realize how essentially fucked he’d be if you ever decided to leave for a more promising and peaceful future than he could ever offer you. Sometimes, he’d study the patched up cables that stuck out of bullet holes on walls and the monitors that had stopped glitching so often ever since you’d focused your attention on them. He would envy the lifeless machinery then, for having the privilege of benefitting from your careful ministrations. The Mandalorian had wondered whether you’d also be willing to offer your healing touch to him, who—as far as you knew from the beskar that covered every inch of his human self and the modulated voice that filtered out all emotional depth—was half a machine himself.

Eventually, he had obtained his answer.

You’d responded to his mute question after he’d gone back for the kid in Nevarro. The bounty hunter had told you to wait for him on the ship, but hadn’t mentioned his intentions in the gray city. He’d only left you with the ominous instruction to take the Crest and never come back to the planet if he wasn’t back in an hour.

After three and a half hours of shooting his way out of the contained battle he’d unleashed near the gates of the city, he hadn’t expected to see the Razor Crest unmoving in the darkening horizon, right where he’d left it. He definitely hadn’t expected the rush of relief that made his spine dissolve when he found you still waiting for him once he’d climbed back through the hull—your eyes sunken in their sockets with concern and your lips chaffed from anxious biting—nor the way your gaze softened at the swampy child he knew you’d both learned to love.

You hadn’t asked any questions when you took the baby and carried him to the cockpit to cradle him in your arms. You hadn’t talked to him as, once in hyperspace, you and the Mandalorian had crafted a makeshift crib together for the sleeping kid from a rectangular metal container and some old rags. Adrenaline and urgency still beating like drums in his ears after such a close encounter with death, he hadn’t dared say a word either, out of fear of what he might reveal to you in his delirium.

But you’d known.

Somehow, among the aftershocks of fighting and below the cluster of stars and supernovas that shifted like snakes in hyperspace, you’d managed to see through the helmet and figure out exactly what he needed, like you’d done so many times with busted motors and faulty sensors. After finishing the crib, you’d taken its unconscious owner down to the hull. The Mandalorian had sentenced himself to his chair to try and still the punchy beating of his heart, that he knew had more to do at this point with the knowledge that you’d put your own life on the line to wait for him than with his altercations in Nevarro.  

But you’d come back.

You’d silently slithered your way back into the cockpit and stood right in front of him with trembling legs, looking for his eyes behind the visor. Wordlessly, you’d unbuckled your belt, slipped your pants down, and climbed onto his lap. His fingers had dug into the leather arms of the chair as you’d started moving on top of him in gentle circles. He remembered blushing at how fast you’d been able to get him hard and how all the blood had dropped from his face to his genitals when you’d lowered his zipper and freed his swollen cock. He remembered the persistent smell that had crawled underneath the helmet when you had shoved your underwear to the side and guided him inside your dripping folds.

Mando had fucked you then, with quick, hard thrusts and a vice grip on your ass that had most likely left bruises. He’d fucked you every single night that followed, as well. After freezing whatever bounty he would manage to catch and setting coordinates for the Crest’s next destination, he’d descend the ladder to find you. He never needed to tell you a thing, since you would just shove what little clothing was necessary as soon as you’d catch a glimpse of him and present your body to him, to do as he pleased. Night after night, you’d welcome him wet and willing, perched on whatever surface you two would see fit for your fucking. So, after trying the pilot’s chair, the floor, and several storage boxes, he’d gotten used to finding you on his cot.

Mando knew he was always rough with you. Whether he was coming back from a hunt or from a stakeout, it was always stress, anguish, and burning lust at the mere sight of you that guided his every movement, and they translated to a fistful of your hair or a sudden bump against your cervix. From the first time, he’d lost himself in the dizzying sensation of your slippery walls around him, clenching tighter with every thrust and squeezing every drop of sanity out of him. He’d become addicted to the clammy sound of your cum around his length as he took out all of his frustrations on the stretch of your pussy.

He would only ever take you from behind while you knelt in front of his bunk or against a wall, spilling his seed outside, every time. He’d never actually seen you naked. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it—the curiosity of how gorgeous you probably looked like with no clothes on haunted his every waking thought—, but he knew it wasn’t part of the unspoken deal you two had struck. Out of pity, he assumed, you’d offered yourself to him as a stress reliever, and nothing more.

At first, though, Mando had been surprised at how often and loud you’d moan for him; later he’d figured it was just another way you’d though of to please him. The whimpers would float around the recycled air of his empty ship and bounce on his helmet, unable to pierce through the tough beskar. So he would take what he could get and tried his best to shut the desire for a more profound intimacy that he ached for. Until, one day, it could no longer be held back.

After his clash with Moff Guideon and the army of Imps, it took Mando a few hours to grasp that he had survived. Somehow, hugely outnumbered and wounded, the bounty hunter’s own small army had managed to defeat the enemy troops and get away with the child, not without two losses that still hung too somber on his guts for him to process properly. He sat on his chair with his son resting next to him for hours, watching space break down to pieces from the cockpit. He thought about IG-11, how he’d lifted his helmet and seen his most secret self through red sensors. Mando remembered how much he’d wished for you at that moment, wanting nothing more but to replace the droid’s neutral features with your own lovely ones. He’d known his son was safe and had made peace with his impending death, but he hadn’t been able to shake a feeling of unfulfillment for knowing that he’d never gotten to truly see you or feel you.

But he had survived.

So Mando sat in the cockpit until he lost track of time, almost hoping that—as always—you’d simply guess what he yearned for and provide it for him.  But, eventually, when you didn’t magically appear in front of him like the first time, he knew it was his turn. Nervousness stifling his movements, he climbed clumsily down, stopping every once in a while to reconsider. What if he offended you? He’d never forgive himself if his stupid requests drew you away once and for all. But temptation was gripping his heart hard, and he knew that he’d never know peace again if he didn’t at least try to get this one favor from you.

When he jumped down the last steps of the ladder, he didn’t find you in his cot. You stood in front of him, as if you’d been waiting. You didn’t push your pants down or move to kneel at the entrance of his bunk like you always did. You simply looked into his visor with a hesitant expression, waiting for him to make a move, for a change.

His voice was tight and unsteady when he finally said, “I want… Can—can I touch you?” He cleared his throat and couldn’t help the telling dip of his helmet as he absorbed your figure in front of him. “I mean really touch you. And…and see you. Please.”

Your shoulders slacked and you moved your head to the side in confusion, like you had been expecting literally anything else. And then, once you saw the way his helmet hung defeated and his hands were clasped in front of him, almost as if he were apologizing for asking, your face went back to its natural comprehensive expression. Except something else was growing in your eyes that made your pupils expand and darken.

“Yes,” you breathed out, with a begging tone that mimicked Mando’s own.

Mando’s lungs collapsed at your permission; he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding his breath. He looked around, trying to figure out a way to quickly engineer a surface comfortable enough for you, but you simply sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with inviting eyes that got his heart pounding a little faster. So he knelt down in front of you and unclasped his cloak to lay it in next to your legs. It wasn’t ideal nor how he’d imagined it—nothing about this situation was—but he was determined to make you feel as comfortable as he possibly could.

You clutched his pauldrons as leverage and shuffled on your knees to rest them on the worn fabric. You reached down with one hand to remove your shoes and socks, before trailing it upwards to your belly and grabbing the hem of your tunic. Mando quickly caught your wrist.

“Wait,” he asked, “let me.”

You simply bit your lower lip and nodded, and Mando liked the way your cheeks turned pink when his gloves grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Every new inch of your skin made it harder for him to keep his hands on the cloth instead of the soft flesh that he was seeing for the first time. When he got your tunic far up enough that it went past your breasts, he had to force himself to keep going, instead of immediately rolling the tips in his fingers. His already half-hard cock twitched at the thought.

By the time your head poked out of the tunic’s hole and he discarded it, his body was burning inside the armor. He trailed his gaze across every crevice of your upper body, stopping at some softer-looking spots he quickly decided were his favorite. You apparently noticed, because the blush on your face was darker than before and it spread to your chest. Mando found your pigmented skin endearing. Maker, after weeks of burying himself inside your most private places, how was it possible that this was the most intimate moment you two had ever shared? And why was he so much more fucking nervous right there than any of the other nights?

He reached his hands out slowly to unbuckle your belt, but looked up at you for permission first. Still biting your lip, you managed a small smile, but your teeth were digging deeper with anticipation that made the gentle expression falter. So he removed your belt and pushed down your pants, taking your underwear with them. You shuffled awkwardly on your knees to slide your them off your legs and would’ve toppled over if he hadn’t grabbed your arms and held you steady. You laughed nervously at your clumsiness and grabbed his arm for balance, as your other hand stretched behind you to pull the trousers off completely and throw them to the side.

The hand on his arm let go and your back straightened again. And there you were, bare in front of him as he’d asked, your skin covered in goosebumps from the cold air of the ship. Like staring into a mirage, he instinctively grabbed your wrist to make sure you wouldn’t evaporate in front of him. Stars, for all the hours he’d spent mentally sketching a picture of your nude body, he could never have expected this. Mando’s eyes traced the lines of your neck and dropped to a pair of smooth shoulders that he would’ve paid good money to lick. Your heaving chest caught his eye, and he went dizzy with the way your nipples hardened under the attention. He skimmed lower to your belly, and would’ve gladly stayed there if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of something glistening between your thighs. His breath audibly hitched at the modulator when he recognized the clear slick of your arousal.  

Once you understood what the visor was directed at, your shoulders hunched and you shuffled uncomfortably in your place. The movement snapped him out of his trance.

It was Din Djarin who stared straight into your eyes when he finally said with a disbelieving, low voice, “I’m sorry, it’s just…You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled fully for him then, your lips plump with arousal and your body arching towards him more confidently to try to coax him to reach out.

“Please,” you pleaded in a raspy tone he’d never heard before, “touch me like you wanted.”

That was all Din needed. His hands approached your body, before he reconsidered and took the gloves off first. Fuck, where to begin? He wanted to feel everything at once, brush his fingertips down your neck and grab your thighs hard and press a hand into your belly. He wanted to grasp your round tits and trace a finger down your spine to make you shiver. Most of all, he wanted to sink his digits into your wet heat and feel you squirm over them.

He settled his hands on your shoulders instead, like you’d done moments ago. The bare-skinned contact made you both tense, until he started caressing up and down your arms to try to relax you. You let out a shaky breath as his calloused hands tickled your skin with a feather light touch.

“It’s smooth,” he mumbled, “your skin. I—I didn’t know.” The helmet was trained on your chest, though, and his hands followed, two large palms settling just above your breasts. Din felt your heart beating faster and faster against his palm to the beat of his own unstable huffs that he knew you could hear. He glided his hands lower, grasping your tits with a strength that painted a stark contrast to his previous, careful fondles. The sensation worked a gasp out of you that pierced beskar and cloth and went straight to his cock. Encouraged, he kneaded the fat and pinched your pebbly peaks, earning him another, louder whimper.

Fuck, why did it feel that good? Din could already feel his array of problems slipping further and further away at the sensation of your hot skin against his, not to mention the sight of your mouth gaping and your half-hooded eyes. A scent he already knew well crept into his nostrils and settled on his lower half, reminding him of the growing lubrication between your legs.

He traded your breasts for the curve of your ass and, when he squeezed, he pulled you closer to him, your chest hitting the cool surface of his armor. You yelped at the cold contact, but the surprise turned into pleasure when he started grabbing handfuls of you to press your body tighter against his. His fingers slipped down to the backs of your thighs and sunk on the pillowy flesh between them, making you buckle forward as a reflex and wrap your arms around his neck. The flesh underneath his palm was soaked and boiling, but it wasn’t until he parted your thighs and shoved his metal cuisse between them that he thought you were working up a fever.

Before he could give you any instruction, you buried your head in the crook of his neck and started rubbing your core on his cuisse. It was an awkward angle that only offered so much friction, but the way you moaned for him sounded like it the sensation was melting you. Every desperate little noise was absorbed by his pores and climbed to his head, making him drunk with the knowledge that he could do this to you.

He needed more.

“Lay back.” He placed his hands on your hips to stop your grinding. You threw your head back to look into the dark visor, flushed and confused.

“But—” you started, before Din placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you with his other one onto the worn cloak. You relented and laid on the floor panting, watching him through long lashes and pressing your legs tightly. Towering over you on his knees, Din grabbed the tops of each thigh and massaged them carefully, both to coax them open and to continue reveling on how your body pulsed alive under his touch. You were writhing and moaning under him, too busy rubbing your legs together to ease some of the throbbing between them to understand what he wanted from you. As much as he enjoyed watching you completely exposed, desperately trying to pleasure yourself, he needed to see. He needed you open to finally take a look at the heat where he’d been losing himself for weeks.

Din pinned down your ankles to the floor and looked straight to your face.

“Please, just—just let me see.” He slowly slid your feet towards you, making your knees flex and your legs bend. Back to reality, you swallowed hard and nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to see exactly what he’d do.

Din pushed your ankles to the sides, revealing little by little a blushed, pulsating cunt. He only stopped once your legs couldn’t open any wider. Your outer lips were plump and swollen, while your inner folds glistened wet and pink under the artificial light of the ship. Your clit was sticking out completely, imploring to be touched. Din felt something stab his chest. He held his breath and felt his member grow fully erect at the erotic sight.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, “f-fuck, is this what I’ve been missing?” He placed his palms on your inner thighs, where he could feel the warmth radiating from your cunt. “Huh?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your legs a little wider. “You never touched me,” you whispered, “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“Maker.” Din’s gaze was trained on your pussy, unblinking. “It’s the only thing I’ve wanted.” When glossy arousal oozed out of you at his admission and pooled on his cloak, Din felt his mouth salivate. He ran his tongue over his lips.

“Then do it.” You sounded desperate now.

Din watched you intently—searching for a reaction—when the index and middle finger of his right hand made a V shape  over your outer lips, before pressing hard against them. It was difficult for him to decide whether to focus on how your head dropped on the ground and your breath hitched, or how your inner lips spilled outside around his digits and your lower muscles hardened under his touch. The pressure made more of your arousal seep and coat his fingers, as he worked them back and forth over the outside of your core. He knew he was leaking precum but couldn’t bring himself to remove his right hand from your cunt nor his left from your thigh, so he simply pressed his legs together, hoping the sight of you wouldn’t be enough to make him cum.

You were pushing against his fingers, silently asking for more, and Din was happy to comply. He removed his middle finger as his index brushed your soaked slit from the bottom to the top, stopping right below your clit. Exasperated, you slapped your palms over your eyes.

“Mando, please,” you whined, “do something. You can’t just—” Your own moan cut you off when he brought down his left hand to pull your inner lips open and gather some more moisture. Fuck, he had a clear view inside you. He could see your innermost walls drowning in their own juices turn a dark pink, almost purple. He used both hands to open you further. Deep inside you, your tight hole clenched around nothing, spitting out more and more fluids.

Stars, Din didn’t know anyone could get this wet, not even when he used to mindlessly fuck you. His hands were drenched already, but, greedily, he still gathered more slickness and rubbed it on his finger, across his knuckles. He wanted it everywhere. He scooped more and smeared it all over your folds and inner thighs, still avoiding your bundle of nerves. Fascinated by your body and trying to ignore how his cock strained against his pants, he lifted his hands to coat your tits with your own cum.

You were almost crying beneath him, but you seized your opportunity when you felt his wet hands against your chest. Suddenly, you grabbed his wrist and yanked it down, pressing the heel of his hand against your neglected clit. Your eyes closed as a broken sob of relief escaped your throat. You moved your hips against it, using his body for your pleasure as he’d done so many times with yours. Din was delighted.

“Been so good to me for so long,” he muttered, as his other hand creeped stealthily back towards your slit. “I want to pay you back.” The primal sound that left you when he sunk two fingers inside your snug hole made his cock jump and get itself a little wetter than before. He willed himself to ignore it and focus his attention on the long fingers inside you. He pushed them as far as they’d go and them some more, while you were still grinding against his palm.

Din was sure he was going to black out from lust when you started moving faster and his fingers curled into something that made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You were breathing quickly, high little mewls leaving your lips as you clenched tighter and tighter around him. His torso leaned down to see how he was stretching you open.

“B-but I liked it,” you blurted all of a sudden, catching your companion by surprise, “I like it when you f-fuck me—” you groaned when he couldn’t help himself and added another finger, “—when you fuck me angry. When you—when you take it out on me.”

Din didn’t answer. He couldn’t when your words sank deep into his stomach and braided his insides. He only moved his fingers faster and deeper, letting your walls distract him—once again—from the difficulties of his turbulent life, as you pulled tighter around him.

Tighter—tighter—tighter—and—

Din was sure it was your own orgasm transferring over to him when you came undone with a loud cry. He didn’t stop moving his hands into you as spasms took over your body, but he felt his own organs contract and release waves of pleasure into every corner of his ragged body. It was only after you stopped shaking and he took his creamy hands away from you that he noticed a dark, moist patch on the crotch of his pants. You noticed it too, and managed a brief, breathy laugh before falling back on the floor, pulling the cloak to cover you and closing your eyes.

Din slapped your leg gently to stop you from falling asleep before standing up.

“We’re not done yet,” he told you plainly, as you stared at him with confused, tired eyes. “I haven’t tasted you.”

He clicked a few buttons on his arm, and the hull became pitch black.

–––––

Edit: Part II here

@artaxerxesthegreat​

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 1: Friends to lovers

The Day After

Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars (Sequel trilogy)

Rating: General Audiences

TW: Alcohol (mentioned), drinking

AN: So, I finally pulled myself together and started properly writing! I'm hoping to do most of @tropetember with various x reader stories but if anyone has requests/thoughts please do share.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

We'd won! The Resistance had won! We'd managed to take down the Final Order fleet and Palpatine in the nick of time.

That's great. All good.

Sadly, life doesn't suddenly stop simply because you win the war.

As the rest of the base slept off their hangovers/started day drinking in continued celebration, you sat at your console in the empty main command centre. You were in the process of going over supply runs, inventory and other important yet dull tasks necessary to keep the base afloat. It didn't matter that the majority of personnel were consuming alcohol and nothing else. Even that would run out eventually.

You made it through most of the day, getting through the 'essential for survival' task list and starting on the 'urgent but could do tomorrow' list, before you were disturbed. At least, disturbed by more than the celebratory ruckus outside the building.

"Colonel Y/L/N"

You sigh quietly to yourself. And it had been going so well.

"Can I help you General?"

You don't look up as you respond. You've spent enough time with Poe Dameron to know his voice anywhere. Plus, eye contact only encouraged him. And distracted you if you were honest, but that involved crawling out of that deep pit of denial you were currently living in so you weren't going to do that.

“Well, I don’t know if you noticed,” he drawled, propping himself lazily up against the workstation next to you, “but we won the war yesterday. Could you maybe, I don’t know, chill out and stop working for 10 seconds?”

You scoff quietly to yourself. You understood why Leia had made him General. Despite his bluster and cocky flyboy attitude, he was a calculating strategist whose tactics snatched victory from the jaws of defeat time and again. As a professional with advanced military training though, you had occasionally doubted that he had it in him to deal with the day-to-day aspects of commanding the Resistance. (Was it still the Resistance if the enemy was destroyed? Hmm, pin that thought for later. There might be a full rebrand on the horizon.) At least, he might not be able to manage without support. Good job he had you really.

“I was aware, yes” you respond, continuing to draft a message to the Senate, “bit hard to miss with the sheer volume at the moment”.

That makes Poe laugh. Mirth lights up his eyes and he gets that intolerably cheeky grin upon his handsome face.

"What do I have to do to drag you away from your console?"

"Let me finish my work? Or, you know, since you're here, maybe you could help"

With a fond shake of his head he moves behind you, wraps his arms around you and drags your chair away from the console. You squeak with indignation.

"Unhand me you beast!" You laugh, trying to be stern. It's not very successful.

"Nope. Not a chance. You're coming with me. That's an order."

You grumble under your breath as he stands you up and drags you out of the command centre. You're not convincing anyone that you're not exactly where you want to be though, and eventually allow yourself to be tucked under his arm and led towards the celebrations.

‐------

You're a little overwhelmed by the celebration. Poe had led you straight outside to the bonfire and as soon you had stepped into the clearing, you'd been spotted. You turn yourself into Poe slightly to try and hide yourself. He wasn't having it though, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before dragging you into the ruckus.

You were immediately accosted by your overly cheerful (and slightly drunk) friends. All of them take a moment to thank you for keeping everything together. It was all very overwhelming, it's not like you felt that you had done anything particularly special.

"Ladies, gentlemen, non-binary individuals and droids of the Resistance" came Poe's voice. You look over to him where he stands on a nearby table. Finn stood relaxed at his side, a bright blue drink in hand.

"We have been through a very difficult time these last few weeks and we have lost many people." Poe pauses for a moment, taking a steadying breath. "Losing General Organa could have been the end for us, even with myself and Finn taking over her role".

A somber silence has overtaken the crowd but many of them are nodding gently or holding onto their neighbours for support. The fire crackles in the background as Finn takes over.

"Generals are only as good as their team, and there is one specific person who has held our efforts together." Finn waves his arm in your direction as he continues. "Colonel Y/N has been an absolute rock, no aspect of this extraordinary success would have been possible without their impressive and dedicated work behind the scenes".

You straighten your spine, keeping yourself tall as all eyes fall on you. You, however, keep yours trained on Poe as he gestures you up onto the table.

"In the coming weeks, we will have a proper ceremony to celebrate all of those who have gone above and beyond. But we felt that we should take a moment to celebrate the backbone of the resistance."

Poe takes back over from his co-General as he notes that "We would have done this earlier but they were busy organising resupplying the alcohol". The crowd laughs at that and Poe turns his sparkling grin toward you. Gosh, he is handsome. All cheekbones and curly brown hair. It's rude, quite frankly.

He wraps his arm around you as he calls out to the crowd. "Let's hear it for Colonel Y/N!"

The crowd erupts and you can't control the grin, leaning into Poe slightly for support. Your entire career you've been in the background, this sudden recognition is a bit much.

Everyone cheers, lifting their drinks in salute.

You take a moment to soak it in, before swiftly climbing down and attempting to blend into the background. Your attempt is dashed by Poe though as he grabs you again, gently tugging you towards the makeshift dance floor.

The music, which had paused momentarily for the Generals’ impromptu speech, had recommenced and there was currently a Nabooian love song drifting across the party. It was an interesting contrast to the boisterous conversations surrounding the clearing.

When you arrive at your destination you once again find yourself in Poe’s arms, this time slowly swaying to the beat. He’s such an affectionate man that it is sometimes really difficult to remember that you’re not together. That he’s not interested in you. You’d met Zorii in her brief visit after the battle and had heard enough from Ray to bring your insecurities to the fore.

You rest your head against Poe’s chest, tucking yourself into him and quietly sighing to yourself. You’re a Colonel of the Resistance, this pining nonsense is not helpful and you really need to get over him. He obviously hears you though and pulls back a little, aiming a questioning glance your way.

You shake your head slightly, smiling to try and deflect but now, with the war basically finished, he seems to have decided you have the time to unpack this.

“You can tell me you know?” he whispers.

You smile a self-deprecating smile and choose not to respond, but he isn’t having it.

“You’re the bravest person I know. You can say it”

You move to pull away but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pulls you closer and for the first time, you see the way he looks at you.

It’s all it takes to break your self-restraint as you push yourself up onto your tiptoes and press your lips against his. He immediately deepens the kiss, holding you close before slowing the pace and breaking away. He doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours.

As first kisses go, it’s the best you’ve ever had.

It’s as you try to return your breathing to normal that you tune back into the rest of the world. You hear the whooping and what sounds like Finn shouting “finally” at the top of his voice. It’s the only warning you get before the other General crashes into you both, wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug.

BB-8 starts beeping wildly as he zooms around you in circles and, in the centre of all the people you love, you whisper gently against his lips, "I love you".

His answering smile is blinding as he repeats the sentiment before your best friend dips you and snogs the life out of you.

And on the evening after the final battle, in the firelight and surrounded by the celebrating members of the resistance, you wonder, as you wrap your arms around Poe, if life gets any better than this.

You doubt it.

[writeofmind]

a quick lesson

Genre: smut 

Pairing: Rosé x Reader

Type: scenario

Never in your life did you expect to be the one giving Rosé a private lesson.

A/N: Rosé is my bias wrecker, if you can’t tell. and i wrote this on a whim, very randomly lol. a lisa smut and many others will be up next. enjoy!

-

You tapped away at your laptop, textbook in your lap, sitting on a single bed in Rosé’s room. You had just wrapped up a concert and finally found time to finish some of your homework, all while being able to hang out with Rosé afterwards. Through the entirety of the night, despite being half focused on homework and still laughing and joking with the other girl, you felt her eyes fixated on you more often than not. Her eyes were narrow as she rested on her wrist.

You continuously glanced over and still caught her staring every time.

“Hey. You okay?” You chuckled. You leaned forward now and looked up to the older girl. Rosé smiled back softly and nodded.

“Yeah. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

Rosé let her eyes wander around your face. You always felt a little insecure when Rosé did this, being under her gaze made you feel so little.

She blinked her eyes now. “About you,” she said, very matter-of-factly.

You pulled back and tilted your head. “Of me?” A smile crossed your face, “How come?”

“Because you work so hard. You’re always doing your schoolwork when you have free time,” Rosé shrugged and hoped that she was carrying this conversation well.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You quickly began to push your things to the side, “I don’t mean to ignore you or anything!”

“No, no no no!” Rosé began to laugh. She stopped you from closing your laptop and shook her head again. “Not like that. I meant, like, you are always doing your homework but it’s like you barely rest. Plus you’re always with us. Aren’t you tired?”

You looked at Rosé for a bit. Now was your turn to laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s just normal. Not really a big deal.”

Rosé’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do you ever get time to yourself though? To do things you want?”

Your expression turned soft. You couldn’t help but stare at Rosé for a few moments as you tried to gather your thoughts, to the point where Rosé had to turn her eyes to the floor for a moment. It was quiet, until a sigh escaped your lips.

“I mean, I get to tour with you and the girls. And I get to be with you when you’re not being a big shot celebrity,” Rosé looked up to see that your smile grew wider, your eyes turning to crescents. “I am doing what I want.”

A small flush of pink took over Rosé’s cheeks. She smiled and shook her head, presumably at the amount of cheesiness that you were able to exude sometimes.

“That’s cute.” Rosé rolled her eyes again.

The bed creaked as you leaned back to rest on your arms. “Thank you, thank you. I do try my hardest.” Your eyes closed and a smug smile came across your face.

Silence overcame the two of you for a bit, which seemed pretty odd to you. Rosé usually wouldn’t stop talking unless she had food in her hands, and in this case, you were both still waiting for the food to arrive.

“Have you ever been in a relationship, y/n?”

Your eyes immediately opened to stare.

Rosé had a serious look on her face, curious and inquisitive.

You raised an eyebrow and moved forward. “Um, yeah, I have. Why do you ask?”

“What’s it like?”

“What’s it like?” You questioned. It seemed like such a trivial thing for someone like Rosé to be asking about. “Well, it’s... nice?” You shrugged.

Rosé continued staring. She expected you to say more and you could feel it.

“Umm,” you continued, “its like you always have your best friend at your side. It’s fun, and y’know. You just kinda enjoy being together.”

“So you loved them?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Um, I’m not too sure,” you laughed uncomfortably, “I would probably say yes? But...”

Rosé nodded. It was encouraging, but her soft expression told you that you didn’t have to continue. You smiled.

It was quiet once again for a short while, enough that you thought the conversation was over. You playfully squeezed Rosé’s knee and turned to grab your laptop again; Rosé stopped you by tapping your arm.

“Can I ask you something else?” Rosé sat back on her heels, folding her hands in her lap. She kept her head down now, and you could see her thumbs running over the back of her hands. Her voice was quiet.

You scooted up to sit on the edge of the bed next to her and nodded. “Yeah, sure, anything.”

Rosé took a deep breath and took her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes stayed diverted from your gaze.

“Did you ever... have sex with them?”

“What?!” Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. Rosé flinched a bit from your tone and you sunk back into the bed in apology. Lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, it was your turn to play with your own hands.

“I— yes, I did,” You managed to stammer, “it was, uh, yeah.”

Rosé hid her laugh and finally looked up at you. Her eyes were filled with a certain look of curiosity— or maybe something else.

“How was that?”

“Rosé, this is getting very—“ you laughed awkwardly and held your own throat in a chokehold, “very personal.”

Rosé smiled and let out a little laugh. “I know, I’m sorry. I just...” She shrugged, “is it satisfying?”

“It— yeah,” you looked off to the side and inhaled a nervous breath. “If done right.”

A thought suddenly crossed your mind and you stared at the older girl. “Have you... never done it?” Your tone was confused, and you sat back on the bed as puzzled as ever. This time, Rosé shook her head.

“Like, you’ve...” You shrugged and pointed to her legs, “you’ve had sex before.”

Rosé rolled her eyes. “No, y/n. I haven’t.”

The world must have slowed down in order for you to process this, because you stared at the older girl for a few moments, like the cog wheels in your head were turning to make sense of this.

“Okay, but, you’re an idol...” It seemed like you were just talking to yourself with the way your eyes stayed spaced out at the area in front of you, “you have to have had some getaway. And you have so many... willing fans. Some free time to... y’know...” You, again, shrugged incredulously and did a very inappropriate gesture that almost made Rosé laugh out loud.

“Y/n, you’re right, I’m an idol, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I get no free time for that,” Rosé sighed.

You furrowed your brows. It never really crossed your mind what Rosé did in her personal life. You didn’t think it bothered her that she hasn’t been in a relationship, nor have you ever thought about the fact that she’d eventually be in one. The thought alone made your stomach drop.

“Y/n,” you noticed Rosé creeping closer to you, a soft hand resting on your thigh. You jumped under her touch and looked in her eyes.

“I’ve never been with anyone. And, I’ve never felt that feeling of... release,” she admitted, quietly and breathlessly. You could see her eyelids fluttering along with her lashes with every blink. “Can you teach me?”

Your mind went blank. The cogwheels in your head froze, your throat immediately going dry. “Teach you?” You stared right through Rosé with a feeling that you may pass out.

“I won’t be able to just meet someone and do it. I at least want to know how to properly... do it myself.”

“You want me to teach you how to touch yourself?”

Rosé nodded. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her voice stayed quiet, but she had no problem with voicing her problem to you.

Rosé must know what an odd request this was, you thought. There’s always been tension between the two, regardless of how close of friends you were. You spent every waking moment together; maybe that’s why. But this was crossing a line.

“On top of that,” Rosé added, “I’ve never been able to feel that... that feeling that people get on their own.” She shrugged and looked at you with sincerity in her eyes. “It’s frustrating.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can see that...” Your throat felt like it was drying out by the second. You could feel that your stomach was in knots and your breathing began to break its rhythm. You couldn’t deny that you haven’t thought of this before.

Seeing Rosé so flustered and asking of something so intimate was sending you over the edge. There was an undeniable attraction you felt for the older girl. How could you not? Throughout the tours, the trips, you two had always been glued at the hip. But, still, you had to face reality. Rosé was a celebrity, and she understood that. You were fine being by her side as a friend— but that didn’t mean that those thoughts, ripe with lust and something more wouldn’t arise more often than not.

The atmosphere in the room only grew heavier and heavier.

“Do you watch porn?”

It was a valid question, but Rosé giggled. The blush deepened on your cheeks.

“I have. It just, doesn’t work,” Rosé was almost whispering now. You noticed that her eyes were lidded now and she kept her gaze low.

You swallowed nervously and nodded. “Do you want to try? Watching it?”

Rosé flushed. “With you here?”

“If you still want me to teach you.”

The older girl shuffled a bit on the bed now. A sudden shyness took over her, but the heat between her thighs grew unbearable by the minute.

Rosé nodded, and your stomach suddenly flipped over. It was happening, and you couldn’t believe it.

Without another word, you picked up your laptop and wasted no time in pulling the website up. Images began to flood the screen and your cheeks grew hot. From where you sat, you hoped that your beating heart would go unnoticed.

You clicked on a video with a very explicit thumbnail. You thought that the best way to teach was to show.

Rosé scooted closer to you, until you were shoulder to shoulder. Your skin burned hot to the touch.

The video began to play and your stomach filled with nervousness by the second. You were about to cross an unspoken boundary that’s been in place since you were children; but you didn’t care.

You were supposed to teach Rosé, but you weren’t able to find the words to try. You kept glancing to her, watching how she fidgeted and stared at the screen with such concentration. You took a deep breath, unable to handle the burning between your legs.

“Hey,” you finally spoke as you scooted backwards, resting on the headboard of the bed, legs open and patting the space between.

“Come sit between my legs.”

Rosé’s face flushed. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped, but no words of protest came out. She only quietly removed herself from the edge of the bed to climb into your lap.

“I’m gonna show you now, is that okay?” You asked.

“Yes,” Rosé took a deep breath and nodded, “that’s okay.”

Once Rosé was between your legs, you let your hands gently trace her thighs. Rosé almost flinched them closed on instinct, but you promptly took hold of her knees to slowly push them further apart.

Rosé’s face rushed with redness. She took a deep breath and tried her best to relax her nerves as your hands continued to travel up her sides and down her arms to her wrists.

You gently took her wrists and brought them up, towards your lips, where you left a kiss on her pulse.

The older girl’s hips twitched and you tried to hide your smug smile.

You lifted her wrists once more until Rosé felt hair entangle her fingers. Her arms were draped on your shoulders where she was free to grab at your hair, your head, anything.

“Don’t be afraid to use me too,” You spoke with lust dripping from your words. Rosé nodded desperately and unknowingly already took hold of a fistful of your hair.

She laid her head back on your shoulder. Her chest was heaving, and her legs were spread. You could tell that her nervousness began to build and grow, spreading through her whole body until she was almost trembling.

“Focus on my fingers,” You spoke softly to calm her down, your lips brushing against the shell of Rosé’s ear. “We’ll start slow.”

Your breath was felt on her skin, and it was enough to send shivers straight down Rosé‘s spine.

Trying to calm yourself of your own nerves, you took deep breaths and focused yourself on the feeling of Rosé’s smooth skin beneath your touch. With eyes closed, you began to slowly travel upwards and underneath the older girl’s shirt. You could feel Rosé’s stomach rising and falling in anticipation.

Your nails gently dug into her skin as you left soft, red trails in its wake. She whimpered and let out frustrated sighs.

The fabric of her bra was the only thing keeping you away from her chest. Even so, you gently cupped both breasts in your hands and heard a small gasp.

“Can I move this?” You asked. The feeling of Rosé’s nervous breathing was still prominent, but she nodded anyway. You traced her back with your left hand to give her bra strap a quick *flick*, and within a moment the latch fell limp.

You took hold of the front and began to pull it from Rosé’s shoulders. She straightened her arms to help ease from it, but resumed her position of holding the back of your head. The beating of your heart began to pound in your ears.

From just where you sat, you could see Rosé’s bare chest on display for you, free to be touched and teased. The thought of it being so close made your mind feel hazy.

Your hands skimmed up Rosé’s body once more before you finally felt her perky nipples in the palm of your hands. Rosé’s moans drifted through the air when you began to knead her breasts together. Her hips began to gyrate in your lap, slow strokes to match the pace of your hands. You let one of your hands fall back into her lap, where you took hold of her inner thigh to control the speed of her hips.

Rosé’s back arched away from you as you gently tugged at her already hardened nipple. Your thumb would ease up on them, twirling and just faintly touching, enough to frustrate Rosé and have her asking for more.

Rosé’s head was thrown back onto your shoulder, chest heaving and legs slowly spreading as you pushed and pulled her against you. You wondered just how riled up she could get.

Your hand moved from her thigh to delve under the material of her shorts, your fingers quickly swiping over Rosé’s clothed, throbbing clit. A soft gasp came from the girl’s lips and her chest arched away again.

“It’s okay.” You ran her finger along Rosé’s slit, feeling her panties grow increasingly wet as you did so. Rosé let out frustrated groans and tugged at your hair.

“I’ll touch you soon,” Your lips caressed the nape of her neck. The feeling alone sent jolts of electricity through her body. Rosé leaned her head back further and let out a whine, pulling your head closer to her.

You let your fingers roam, sliding along the cloth before rubbing gentle circles over her clit. Her panties were soaked already.

Rosé’s hips raised slightly and you heard a small whimper form in her throat. From the feeling of Rosé gripping your hair, you could tell that she was getting impatient with you.

“Y/n, come on,” she whined. The neediness in her voice only made your ego grow twice in size.

You couldn’t help but smile and nod. “Okay, okay,” you pulled your hand back to slide it under her panties. “It’s okay to relax.”

As you touched her, your fingers tracing between her folds to feel how wet she’s become, you make sure to remember every sound, imprinting it in your mind for only you to keep. You relish in every moan and whimper and shiver every time you dip your fingers into her heat, covering your own fingers in her juices. Then you bring your fingers back up to her clit, circling slowly, falling into a gentle rhythm that brings her close to the edge. 

“Fuck,” she chokes on a gasp, then whines as she grinds herself against you, her own fingers digging into your neck, “don’t stop...” It almost seems like Rosé has forgotten the situation she was in, this whole scene being a lesson (or maybe she doesn’t care) because she lets go, only focusing on the pleasure you give her, giving in to the way you touch her, the way you tease and play between her trembling thighs. Your hand works quicker, driving her wild until she’s shaking against you.

But maybe she does remember that this is a lesson, because she tries to calm herself to focus on the feeling of your fingers. You don’t stop, however, now caressing her swollen, aching clit, filling the space with the sounds of her messy juices. Just feeling how wet she’s become as your body on fire, and feeling her trembling against you while listening to her breathless whimpers and moans makes your own body ache for release. 

“God, that feels so good,” she cries out, gasping and whimpering all over again, “fuck, y/n, I’m… I’m gonna come—“

Her words ignite the fire within you, and even more so as you feel her thighs tighten around your hand as she begins to unravel. Her hips rolls against you and she reaches to grasp your wrist with a shaking palm. Her head is swirling, as is yours. Curses and moans fill the air, breaths suddenly so heavy as the pleasure rolls through her body, and after a few moments, she finally begins to come down.

Her head falls into your neck. She’s breathing deeply as her legs fall open, exhausted, but you still play at her folds. You smile as you caress down her slit and watch as her legs twitch from the sensitivity. The tips of your fingers sink into her pussy, allowing her messy juices to be heard after coming, pumping them slowly, the filthy noises making it known just how hard she came. Rosé giggles because it becomes too much, and finally her thighs close once again as she pushes your hand away.

You both stay quiet and just listen to your heaving breaths, feeling the both of your chests rising and falling with each one you take.

You decide to break the silence. “How was that?”

Rosé shook her head, but you could still feel her smile against your neck. “It— it was done right,” Her voice shook, “I’m pretty sure.”

You laughed a bit. The blush on your cheeks was still very much prominent, but she couldn’t see that. “Well, I hope you paid attention. You think you can do it yourself now?”

Rosé sat up from your lap and turned to face you. The shyness was erased from her face and was replaced with dominance, and to be honest, it frightened you a bit. Only— not really.

Rosé crawled closer to you until your noses were touching, her lips so close you could just lean up to capture them.

“I’m not sure,” Her hand moved from your thigh to find its place right where you wanted it most, “let me practice.”

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse

Genre: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: food/wine, Patton and Logan offscreen, anxiety attacks, argument, crying, fear of breakup.

Word count: 4k

Note: Not proofread. We die like men. Also part two is coming soon~

5:24

It definitely wasn’t every day that Virgil spent the early evening dancing around the kitchen while making dinner. But today was no ordinary day, and he was just too damn excited to stay still.

Figaro sat on the floor in the bedroom doorway, licking his paws and glaring disdainfully at the speaker system that had disrupted his nap. Virgil spotted the dark cat and grinned, dancing over to scoop him up. He hummed along to the music, bopping the disgruntled cat to the beat (much to his chagrin). Once upon a dream, Figaro might have fought tooth and nail at being used as a dance partner, but living with Roman for years had worn down his resolve. And after Virgil had entered their lives, he’d completely given up fighting their excuses for attention. Instead, the cat just yawned and went limp.

“Aw, did I wake you up, Figgy?”

The cat did not answer. 

Virgil let him hop from his arms onto his scratching tower and went back to slicing spinach on the counter, humming along to the music. He wanted it louder, loud enough that it numbed the excited tremble in his hands and drowned out his internal butterflies, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with noise complaints. Again. 

Instead, he opened the drawer in front of him and ran his fingers over the small box he’d placed in there hours ago. As he’d done countless times since, he opened the lid to make sure that the ring inside was still there, still perfectly centered and shining as brightly as it had been when he’d picked it up earlier that morning. 

Roman would never expect him to propose. Ask anyone who knew them and they’d agree that the romantic, outgoing, type-to-propose in their relationship wasn’t Virgil. Plus, he’d dropped no hints. Any time he met with Logan to plan, or went to the jewelers, and the million other things he’d had to do before this, he’d chalked it up to ‘having a bad day’ or ‘needing time alone’. 

He felt… a little bad, knowing in the recent months many of Roman’s attempts at dates had been turned down, only half the time due to actual bad days. But it would all be worth it in the end. The plan was to start with dinner; the meal they’d had on their first real date, followed by Virgil suggesting a walk. As they put on their jackets, he’d sneak the ring box into his pocket, and innocently lead them past a cafe for dessert, “coincidentally” the spot where Roman had asked Virgil to move in with him. Finally, the park, strung up with fairy lights and electric candles Logan and Patton had set up just before. It was their perfect mix of solitude and ‘extra’. Virgil would propose, and Roman would hopefully say yes, and everything would be perfect and amazing and-    

The oven timer beeped. There was fifteen minutes left for the dough to set; time to make the filling for the ravioli. But he’d barely started cooking the spinach when his phone chimed, alerting him of a text.

Hey V, dinner and a movie tonight? You can choose.

Virgil bit his lip and sighed, thumbs hovering over the keyboard for a second. As old as the excuse was getting, he needed to side step Roman’s plans one more time. Just one last time.

not feeling well. anxietys been all over the place. sry. 

He laid the phone back on the counter and returned his attention to the frying pan, flipping the greens and watching them wilt slowly. One eye on that, he pulled out his other ingredients from the fridge. He’d rather be ahead of schedule than behind. 

Ding ding.

Yeah, shocker. What else is new.

Virgil felt his heart drop. That wasn’t… at all in character for his boyfriend. Yeah, he’d used the excuse more often lately, but was it that much? He stared at his phone, hardly breathing, trying to think of some way to answer that, when a burnt smell reached his nose. 

“Shit,” He hissed, trading his phone for a spatula and turning the spinach once more. It was just on the brink of being overdone, just the edges turning a tad too dark, but nothing he couldn’t save. He scraped the pan’s contents into a bowl to cool and dumped it in the sink. The hiss and steam of the hot pan in water made him wince (he’d been told a million times it was bad, but he couldn’t recall why), but he left it on the bottom of the sink to fill and soak. Scrubbing dried spinach off it tomorrow would really put a damper on the ‘recently engaged’ mood.

“Mrow?”

Virgil shut off the water and turned to the trill, cursing when he realized Figaro had abandoned his tower in favor of sniffing the food on the counter.

“Figgy, no! Get down!” He plucked him away from the bowl just as he looked ready to pounce inside, much to the cat’s annoyance. “You would just spit it out, you big baby. Don’t look at me like that.” It probably wasn’t safe to keep cooking with the cat around anyways, so he went to their room and left him on their bed with a soft order to behave. Figaro blinked once at him with indignation before the door was closed, and Virgil hurriedly pulled out his phone.

Real mature, not answering. 

Virgil took a deep breath to push down the rising anxiety. He’s… probably just playing around, right? It’s probably meant in a lighthearted way but he was just misinterpreting the text harshly. It’s not malicious. Right?

sry, put figgy away

He paused for a moment, before shooting another quick text.

ur not actually mad right?

The typing bubble appeared.

And went away.

And popped up again.

And vanished.

That was enough confirmation to get Virgil’s heart pounding, all hope that Roman was just fooling around out the window. He was typing again, and this bubble was staying for longer, but now it was too long to be a simple affirmation.

I don’t know, Virgil. You used to actually contribute to this relationship, and now I’m the only one really trying. We barely ever go out, for like a couple months now. You always dodge my plans. I miss the old you, because right now I feel like I barely know you. I’m getting sick of it. 

Now Virgil properly couldn’t breathe. That sounded like the beginning, if not the entirety, of a breakup if he ever heard one. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck his stupid ideas, his stupid plans, fuck all of it. This is his fault, and Roman’s about to dump him, because he took his overdramatic proposal too far and it was about to end their relationship.

I’ll be home late. 

Okay, that wasn’t… a breakup? Unless, of course, he was going to do it in person, and needed time to plan how it was going to go. 

Cognitive distortions, is that what Logan had called them? Magnifying? Is that what was happening right now? There was a solid chance that Logan would agree with him, say that he wasn’t actually sure what Roman planned, and it would probably be okay, but it was very hard to be objective when he was in the middle of it.

how late?

Another deep breath. He placed the phone next to his mixing bowl, screen up so he would be sure to see the notification, and absentmindedly added in the ingredients he’d pulled from the fridge earlier. Shit, did they have thyme? 

Of course they did, he’d gone shopping for all the ingredients like two days ago. He needed to get out of his own head. 

The final timer went off, signaling the dough was ready to be used. Before he unwrapped the ball and got his hands covered in the stuff, he checked the lock screen on his phone. Nothing. 

It was fine, it was fine. 

Rolling out the pasta into one thin sheet took far more effort than he would have thought, and it took embarrassingly long before he was able to lay it out on the big ice cube tray he was using in place of an actual ravioli mold. He checked his phone. Nothing. 

Once he got the hang of filling the molds without making a huge mess, it was actually an easy process. He finished three and a half trays-worth before running out of dough and filling simultaneously, but that’s more than enough for the two of them. No answer yet. 

ro?

He set a pot on the stove full of water but didn’t turn it on; it would just be one less thing to do when he was ready to cook the ravioli. For now, he placed the pasta in the fridge so it didn’t dry up. Roman generally got home from work at six, which he had prepared for, except on late rehearsal days when he was held back an extra hour. That’s what Virgil consciously chose to believe; he meant he’d be home late because it was a longer day. He wasn’t answering now because he was on stage. Technically it all made sense, but it wasn’t enough to relieve the icy grip around Virgil’s lungs. 

romans gonna be late. push back an hour?

Logan sent back a thumbs up followed by his ‘-Logan’ sign off. Virgil sent a quick apology but didn’t bother to check the response when his phone lit up, focusing back on his plate of raw ravioli.

So, at five to seven, he’d boil the pasta and warm up the tomato sauce. It had been finished that morning and had been waiting in the fridge all day, because Virgil was a firm believer that it would taste better having had time to sit. Plus, he’d been excited, and had needed something to do with his hands. 

But now he needs something to do with his hands again, but instead of excitement, it’s a tingling discomfort spreading through his limbs and curling in his stomach. Convinced that there was nothing else in the kitchen he could do, he untied the apron and pulled it over his head, pleased at the stark black button up he’d successfully kept flour-free. The satisfaction doesn’t last for long.

Now that he’d acknowledged his shirt, it was impossible to ignore the way it wrapped far too tight around his neck. It’s fine, he thought as he unbuttoned the top button, I still look okay.

He may as well set the table. Patton, similar to Roman in regards to going above and beyond, had insisted Virgil go all out for the dinner. Stark white table cloth, silverware set perfectly next to the plates, and a tall, white candle as the centrepiece. Virgil had cringed a bit at the idea, but after being assured that Roman would love it, he’d reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t his style but, well, the night wasn’t supposed to be about him, no really. 

Watching TV did nothing to relieve the knot of uneasiness in his stomach, even when he unrolled his weighted blanket from the side basket and huddled into it. It brought a calm familiarity with it, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could pretend that someone was holding him. Patton’s soothing words, or Logan’s gravity, or Roman’s warmth or Roman’s safety or Roman’s gentleness or Roman-

6:53

Time to throw in the ravioli. He shut off the television, he hadn’t been watching it anyways, and turned the water on to boil. As it heated, he scuttled back to the table, some of his excitement returning. Sure, things had been tense on the phone, but Roman would be home any minute, and the rest of the night could go as planned. He pulls a small crinkle out of the white fabric and recenters the candle, stepping back to admire his work. It’s okay. If Roman had done it, it would probably look better, but who cared. It was fine. 

7:01

Virgil sighed, looking over his final creation once again. A part of him was cringing with the cheesiness of it all; the lit candle, food already plated, a bottle of wine fresh from the fridge. Getting a new wine may have been too much of a giveaway, so the feature was a half finished bottle from their last date… a few months ago. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if it would pair well. He didn’t even like wine. But it was Roman’s favorite, so it would have to do. 

He’d bitten three nails down to the nub by the time he figured he could add the tomato sauce over top. Roman was never later than seven, so the pasta wouldn’t even have the time to get soggy. 

In a combination of unfortunate events unlike any Virgil had experienced before, the tomato sauce bubbled the moment he grabbed the handle, dozens of pinpricks of heat burning his hands. He yelped and dropped the saucepan in favor of grabbing his scalded hand, jumping back as the pot hit the side of the counter and sent tomato sauce flying directly into the open drawer next to it. In his search for a match to light the candle, he’d left open the drawer containing the ring box, and in moments, the velvety exterior was coated in a fresh layer of marinara. 

“Fuck!” Virgil shouted. 

Heat be damned, he grabbed the box from the steaming puddle around it and rushed it to the sink. Running it under water would just be asking for the situation to be worse so he tried to scrape off the mess with a dishcloth. Was this even salvageable? 

No, it turned out. The white velvet had stained a shitty orange in a way he definitely couldn’t play off as the original color, and even though the interior (or god forbid the ring) hadn’t been touched, he found himself trying to fight off tears. This wasn’t fucking going well, and now… 

7:28

Roman was never this late, not without telling him. Virgil checked his phone and, nope, only the previous message from Logan and a newer one, asking if they could set up yet. He sent a quick:

no, hes not home yet

Panicking was not a move he wanted to make right now, despite how his brain was trying to convince him otherwise. Roman was probably stuck in traffic, right? And Virgil was always getting on him for texting and driving, so that could be why he hadn’t said anything. Sure, the route from the theatre to their house was barely ever busy, and yeah, it was way too late for there to be real holdups, but there was a first time for everything.  

He made quick work of cleaning up the disaster of marinara sauce, surprised that a decent amount was salvageable. Apparently in his panic he’d righted the pot before it had all spilled, so there was maybe just enough for the meals. The inside of the drawer was a stained, orange, mess, and the area under the burners was caked in dried sauce, and that was just too much work for right now. He slammed the drawer shut and threw a towel over the element. Out of sight, out of… well, not out of mind, but maybe it would take a backseat on ‘worries for the night’.

Might as well get a head start on dishes, he thought, since the thought of texting Roman is daunting and his whole body is aching for something to do. One second more of standing still and he may very well have combusted. He couldn’t even summon up the will to turn on music, the mood from before totally vanquished. If he could just get that burnt pan done, perhaps the tension in his chest would ease up a bit. 

But he cleaned the pan, and the rest of the dishes, and scrubbed the sink, and Roman still wasn’t home. At some point when he’d decided to just finish all of the dirty cookware he’d rolled up his sleeves, which he quickly lowered and rebuttoned around his wrists. The dishes were drying; nothing left to do there. 

He swallowed thickly. How was the shirt still too tight around his throat?

Virgil unbuttoned the next one down, hoping to ease the ball of fear in his throat. It didn’t help.

The food was lukewarm, at that point. It was still edible. It was microwaveable. It was fine. Again, the thought crossed his mind to text Roman, but what if he was driving? He might check it and get pulled over, and that would not help the uneasiness in their relationship right now. What if the phone’s light distracted him and he got into a car accident? He couldn’t lose Roman, not when their last words had been so strained, and it would be his fault on top? Not a chance. He’d be home any second now. He had to be. 

Virgil quickly found himself under his weighted blanket once more, watching whatever sitcom was on with dissociated interest, arms wrapped around his waist in a vice grip and feet bouncing under the covers. This time, though, the television worked less as a distraction and more as grating noise in his skull and he muted it, but that didn't stop the sudden stream of noise. Water was running through the pipes under him, some of his neighbors were shouting, and the fridge was humming and the lights overhead were buzzing and it’s all so loud-

His sound blocking headphones were also in the basket next to the couch and he shoved them over his ears. The world went quiet except for the sounds of his shaky breathing; breathe in, and out, and in, and out…

8:07

With the thick padding over his ears, the only sound he could hear was his breathing. It was somewhat reminiscent of Darth Vader’s, seeming far too loud, but also a steady foundation for him to ground on. Without the outside distraction, it was far easier to focus on his breaths, to slow them down, to get into a rhythm of long inhales and longer exhales. Bit by bit, the swarm of butterflies that had clasped around his heart gave way, allowing the anxiety to morph into numb sadness.

If Roman had come home on time, would they be in the park already? Would they be engaged? Maybe they’d already be back home, sharing the news to their families. Roman would probably already be gushing about wedding ideas as Virgil nodded along in amusement. They probably could have convinced Patton and Logan to come home too, and they could have had a great rest of the evening, finishing the bottle of wine and reliving the past and…

Were they even going to get engaged at this point?

He fumbled for his phone and sent a text to Logan.

plans off. sry

The headphones were overly effective in silencing the world, now amplifying his thoughts too much, so he slid them off. He took a deep breath, the sound now camouflaged in the rest of the apartment’s noise. A lump formed in his throat as he took in the arrangement of the dining room, and the more he pushed it down, the harder it was to stem the tears that were steadily filling his eyes. 

Virgil didn’t like feeling helpless, but that was all he felt at that moment.

Fuck.

Without forethought, he rubbed at his eyes, and instantly froze.

He drooped his head with a sigh that bordered on a groan, reluctantly lowering his hands from his face. Mixed in with his intercepted tears were the smudged remains of his makeup smeared across the web of his hands. 

Might as well; everything else went to shit anyways.

Usually, Virgil didn’t spend more than a minute removing his makeup. But that day, he spent an inordinate amount of time scraping off every streak of color until his face felt raw, watching his hard work be erased. He’d spent forever getting it perfect.

Even after he finished, he couldn’t get himself to move. That familiar weight of anxiety was settling again into the pit of his stomach as rushes of adrenaline, but he found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the mirror. As he stared into his own eyes, he vaguely remembered reading somewhere that looking at yourself in low lighting could trick one’s brain, causing the face to morph into something totally different, oftentimes not human; monstrous. Something about the brain trying to find faces everywhere, and creating them where it can’t see one properly. 

This didn’t happen to Virgil.

All he saw in the mirror was someone who had messed up his hope for a future. 

Huh. So maybe a ‘monster’ wasn’t too far off.

He laughed humorlessly and finally flicked off the bathroom switch, reentering the living room. The candle was still burning strong on the table, a good half way down. Virgil blew it out.

9:12

The state of apathy Virgil had sunken into was violently replaced with sharp anxiety when he finally bothered to check his phone, realizing it was past nine o’clock. Once more he considered asking Roman if everything was okay (heh, as if anything was okay) but he was quickly reminded why he hadn’t in the first place. Light distracts a driving Roman, bad things happen, it’s all his fault… 

Instead, he replied to Logan’s response.

Why? Virgil, what happened?

-Logan

we had a fight

His feet led him by their own will, pulling him to the wall so he could flip off the lights, dousing the apartment in darkness. Using the light from his phone screen, he stumbled to their room- or was it just Roman’s now? Would he have to move out? Oh god… where was he going to live?- ignoring Figaro’s mewls for pets. 

What did this fight regard? 

-Logan

idk. a bunch of stuff.

He stripped out of his formal shirt, hands shaking so bad he could barely undo the buttons, and exchanged it for his favorite hoodie. It may be too hot to sleep in, but he felt the need for comfort more than he was concerned about heat. 

Virgil dropped onto the bed next to the clothes, finally relenting to Figaro’s complaining and stroking down his back. In the stillness of a silent apartment, it was suddenly harder than ever to not completely break down. At least he wiped off his makeup.

This was over dinner?

-Logan

no. over text. he never came home.

He allowed the first tears to fall.

Maybe this had all been building up for a while and Virgil had just been too dumb to see the signs. Was this the night he lost everything? Would the one person he never grew tired of, the only person he had truly loved, leave him? He didn’t know what he’d do without Roman and somehow, he didn’t think he’d have a hope of ever finding someone like him again.

The tremors and blurry vision made it difficult to type.

i think romans going to break up with me

It took barely half a second after it sent for his phone to start ringing, Logan’s name showing up on the caller ID. 

Later, Virgil wouldn’t even remember pressing the answer button. The moment he heard Logan’s voice over the phone, his unusually concerned voice overlapping with Patton’s questions, the dam broke. He sobbed his way through an explanation the night, the text messages they’d swapped, and his snowball of anxiety.

To no surprise, the two on the other line immediately offered to come over, but Virgil declined. There was still the tiniest part of him, the littlest hope, that Roman was still going to walk through that door any second. If (when, when, when) he came home, they would need to talk, and it would complicate matters if Logan and Patton were there. 

When he eventually yawned in the middle of a sentence, he was encouraged to go to bed. He really didn’t need to be convinced; he was more than ready for this evening to be over. After promises that he’ll update them first thing in the morning, and multiple reminders that Patton loved him, he was left alone in the apartment once again. 

He curled into a ball on his side of the bed and cried himself to sleep.

Part two HERE!

[moonexile]

@apaclypse​,  “i can’t lose you! not again.”

he could say the same.  luther was so adamant about never admitting it when they were younger,  but five’s disappearance broke him in a way he never properly processed, nor ever recovered from.  he was so convinced that five had betrayed the family, that he left because he grew tired of everyone there and had finally decided he was too good for this family and made his way in the world without them.  no one ever knew what really happened to him — there were hushed theories, quiet whisperings of hope, but luther was always quick to push them away.  the truth was, it was just easier to be angry at five than it was to be sad.  sad about losing his brother, sad about the gaping hole left in the team, sad about not knowing whether or not five was okay — or even alive. 

they lost him, and they had no reason to believe he would ever return.  but when they finally got him back and realized the way his life had turned out,  it felt like losing him all over again.  all that resentment luther held for him felt so childish now.  insensitive, undeserved.  all this time, he had convinced himself that five chose to leave —- but he was stuck living in a world without any of them.  luther got a taste of that when he was on the moon, far away from anything and everyone, no way of speaking to his siblings again.  but at least he could still remember their faces, at least he could look down at the earth and believe they were still there, living their lives, finding some sort of normalcy and better yet, happiness.

but what did five have?  just the memory of their bodies drained of life,  after they spent years growing up without him?   and how many times has he seen them die after that?  there’s a part of luther that wonders if he hasn’t even told them everything.  

luther can be insensitive; he can be brash about the things five does and says now, but that doesn’t mean he forgets what five has been through, what he’s seen —- how he’s had to deal with the literal weight of the world and his siblings’ corpses in the process.  they’ve both lost each other before,  they’ve both spent far too long waiting to see the other again.  luther doesn’t want to lose him now, either.  he can’t lose any of them again—- but there is too much time he still wants to make up with five.

he brings his hands up,  resting on five’s shoulder —-  a reminder he’s here with him, it’s not a dream  (  maybe five doesn’t need it,  but luther remembers how badly he used to wish for any small touch from another to remind him that he himself was still alive.  )   ❝  five--  ❞   he mutters before he shakes his head,  trying again,  this time speaking more sternly.  ❝  five.  ❞   his hand gives his shoulder a squeeze  (  carefully,  not wishing to hurt, only wishing to get his attention.  ❝  i’m--  i’m okay.  i’m here.  i’m right here.  ❞   there’s a small hint of a smile tugging at his lips,  an attempt to lighten things.  ❝  i’m not getting out of your hair that easily.  i just got you back.  ❞  perhaps one of the most genuine things he’s spoken to him ---  it feels necessary now,  not just for five,  but for luther,  too.

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, adult language

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AUTHOR’S NOTE | chapter 2 is finally up! it was written by monnie, a sweetheart 😙 edited by alex! we hope you enjoy! please leave feedback, we really encourage it and enjoy it!

WORD COUNT | 1.7k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​ if you’d like to be added to the list, please say so in out inbox/ask box!

at this point y/n wondered why he followed his instincts. had he known it was a mafia on the other side of where he was, he could have gotten in his car, gone home to enjoy a cup of ramen, and then go to sleep. then again he didn’t know, so he blamed life’s cruelty.

“hey, good morning.” a soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. he glanced over at the familiar voice that belonged to the only person he’s seen in the past few days.

y/n said nothing, watching the other slide in a tray of steamy fresh food. “i noticed you eat a few things more than the others so i tried to give you bigger portions.”

“thanks,” y/n accepted the tray with no expression and seonghwa pursed his lips at the short answer. 

at the tense atmosphere, seonghwa excused himself. he wasn't sure if he felt pity for y/n, but either way, he just wanted y/n to grow used to this new environment because one thing was certain and that was that y/n could never go back to his old life.

seonghwa sighed softly, "good morning."

y/n tilted his head at him, looking up at the second in command with dull eyes. he simply hummed in greeting, clearly not in the mood during the past five days. 

the blonde gripped the tray, his patience running low with the older’s behavior. he's meaning well, he understands y/n, he does, but no one will get anywhere if there’s constant passiveness between the two.

 “i threw in an extra cookie,” he gestured to the pastry, “i figured you’d like some extra sugar in your system.”

once more, y/n hummed, nodding his head lightly.  it made seonghwa's blood boil—clearly, y/n wasn't vibing with him, and the last thing he thought of in this situation was the way y/n was being affected.

"hey, listen. your little silent treatment isn't gonna do jack here. you either socialize or stay down here, which isn't gonna happen because sooner or later they'll drag you up there. keep in mind you won't have anyone else to socialize with—forget your friends, family, everyone you had around before this. you'll be around us for as long as needed, maybe until your last breath."

y/n scoffed, looking away from seonghwa, something the older didn't take very nicely until he heard y/n’s meek reply, "you say that like it's easy."

the younger sputtered, handing y/n the tray of food, "i know it's hard, but just know each of us gave something up too. but, eventually, we all learned how to live with it,” seonghwa squatted to y/n’s level, “and you will too." 

the doctor swallowed, taking the tray and finally making eye contact with seonghwa. they shared a small pained smile, and seonghwa made one last comment before heading back, "make sure you eat up—don't want you dying on me after i took all that time to make such delicacies." 

y/n smiled to himself as he heard seonghwa shuffle to turn around. "thank you…i'll see you later…"

"sure will…” seonghwa’s chuckle ricocheted off the walls as he walked down the hall to the metal door. he pushed it open, making his way up the stairs and to the living room where a few of the others were gathered.

“hyung! just on time, we were talking about this upcoming mission we might have in a few days,” san commented as soon as he saw the older.

“is that so?” seonghwa mumbled in response as he sat down next to hongjoong, the other sipping iced bourbon from a glass cup.

“i’m not sure about it yet,” hongjoong set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him, “wooyoung still needs to gather more info before i verify anything. can’t be careless, remember?”

“totally, hyung. i’ll dig more into the client and have the info needed before morning.” wooyoung gave a reassuring smile to their boss, who simply hummed in return.

“by the way hwa,” hongjoong glanced at his boyfriend, leaning back into the leather couch and crossing his legs, “how’s the doctor?”

seonghwa blinked, “he’s fine, a bit down but he’ll get over it. so, in short, he’s behaved well these past days.”

hongjoong nodded, “that’s good, we’ll let him out tomorrow then. but right now i need you to go with san to the mechanic shop, make sure business is flowing well—which i don’t doubt. maybe visit mingi and yunho and see how well the loaning business has been. if i recall correctly, mingi said something about a few people not paying back on time; tell them not to get aggressive, we aren’t monsters after all.” there was a playful lilt to his tone, but they picked up on the seriousness behind it.

san got up, nodding at hongjoong’s orders, “we’ll tell yeo if anything happens.”

seonghwa followed suit, “we’ll see you later then,” he waved farewell without looking back at them.

wooyoung slid the folder over to hongjoong, the older raising a brow while taking it in his hands. “i gathered some info, it’s all in there—but to put it simply, i think we’ll gain lots of benefits after signing a deal with him. his name is yoo dongwoo, lives in seongnam.”

“that’s a bit too close to us, don’t you think?” hongjoong hums as he sets the folder down, resting his elbow on the armrest and his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“yeah, it is. but i think it’d be worth it. he seems to have lots of connections, and so far he’s never had an issue with payments, transportation and business—” wooyoung’s attention is taken when the door leading to the basement is pushed open.

“people!” yunho blocks y/n, capturing the attention of the others in the room. the tallest holds his arms out in a way of grand gesture, bowing, “i present you, y/n-”

“that’s...not necessary…” y/n can feel his skin grow warm under the tense and awkward atmosphere. luckily it’s broken by the one and only choi san.

“well we haven’t properly introduced ourselves if you think about it,” he pushed himself into y/n’s space, the doctor tensing up a bit at the close intrusion. yunho watched san, stepping aside to give the two some more space,“i’m san! nice to meet you! i’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

the cheerful boy grinned widely, dimples making an appearance while his eyes did the opposite. y/n blinked, processing how close san was before taking a small step back. he didn’t reply verbally, giving a small smile and a nod instead,

“you know me already,” yunho said while taking a seat at the table.

"you know me too," seonghwa walked in with a tray of cookies, baking gloves protecting his hands.  "and take a seat."

y/n glanced at the table, not sure where to take a seat, but he guessed it didn't matter as long as he didn't sit near the boss.

"i'm hongjoong, the boss in case you didn't know," hongjoong watched the tray seonghwa placed on the table, waiting to grab a pastry.

"i'm mingi!" said male smiled as y/n hastily took the seat next to him. 

"i'm wooyoung, but call me woo if you want!" wooyoung was on the other side of y/n, making the doctor sandwiched between him and mingi.

"yeosang," the said male sat across from y/n, an intensely bored expression taking over his features. 

"did we miss anyone?" seonghwa rose a brow while taking off the gloves. 

"oh right, jongho! he's our bodyguard," san gestured at the buff male that stood by the door. 

y/n turned to look at him, jongho gently nodding his head at him and y/n doing the same. 

hongjoong clapped his hands, capturing everyone's attention. "great, now with that out of the way, let's get down to business."

everyone nodded at his words, taking a cookie from the tray seonghwa placed on the table. y/n accepted the one san handed to him, smiling a bit at how caring the male had shown to be so far. 

"we're heading out in the morning, i need everyone to get back to their usual jobs by evening so we'll try to make the exchange as quick as possible. everyone except y/n and yeosang will go, we need info and updates from the outside. 

before we leave i need yunho and mingi to make sure all the parts we'll hand over are correct. i don't want mistakes. wooyoung and i will take care of the talking, san and seonghwa will stand by the nearest exit to make sure everything is in order. jongho you'll be with me and woo." 

all nine of them nodded at hongjoong's orders. y/n voluntarily nodded, remembering seonghwa’s earlier words, “each of us gave something up too. but, eventually, we all learned how to live with it.” he knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so he figured he’d make it a bit easier for himself.

"and i need you all to wear bulletproof vests under your clothes just in case. your guns must be locked and loaded, got it?" 

"guns?" y/n blinked, capturing everyone's attention, "why are you guys willing to blow your organs out?" 

wooyoung smiled, his head tilting a bit, "why are you willing to work for people who’s organs have been blown out?” 

y/n opened his mouth before closing it and nodding in defeat, "fair point. i get paid for it, at least..."

they were all quiet before chuckling, the atmosphere feeling more warm and calm than what it was when they first gathered.

"has anyone seen y/n?" 

his peers shook their head, speaking of the last time they saw said male. the doctor he worked with mentioned something that made the nurse worry even more. 

"last thing i knew was that his car was towed since he never picked it up. didn't hear anything else though, but don't worry heeseung, maybe he picked it up afterwards." 

heeseung, the nurse that had asked about y/n's whereabouts, sighed. "right...i hope so...see you guys tomorrow!" 

his peers returned the smile and farewell. 

as heeseung took a seat on the bus, he pulled out his phone. the first thing he did was go to the messaging app and open his and y/n's chat. 

'hi :] 

how are you?

[fanficimagery]

‘Cause We’re Gonna Be Legends; pt. 2

Summary: Imagine wandering the Boardwalk with your friends. A group of boys catch their attention and while your friends are doing everything to catch their attention in return, they are apparently more interested in the oblivious girl of the bunch who doesn't care to bat her eyelashes at them. You. [Part Two]

Words: 9.5K Warnings: This is why I don’t do sequels. I think they’re a good idea and then halfway through I lose interest/have no idea what the hell I’m doing. But I powered through and this was the end product. Enjoy. Also I forgot to mention in the first part that Max doesn’t really exist in here which is why he’s never mentioned.  Homophobic slur? It happens once, but it’s in there. There’s also a dash of spice, if you catch my drift. Lol. Implied (but it does NOT happen) sexual assault. And violence.

For a few days, your fever is up and down. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as it once was, so you're able to actually wear the appropriate clothes for having guests over. Your girls are very apologetic for not being much help, but are excited when you start looking better and even planned a night to stay in with you. Unfortunately, but fortunately for them, the night they stayed in with you happened to also be a night the boys decided to drop in as well.

They squealed when Paul sauntered in and immediately pecked your lips. Their eyes widened when Marko pecked your left cheek and Dwayne your right. And then their jaws dropped when David brought up the rear, smirking, and pecked your forehead. The room was quiet- too quiet- and the girls were surprised whereas the boys were smug. Assholes.

So instead of movie night, you answered the questions your girls threw at you while the boys went out to pick up some food after everyone but you chipped in for because Marko wouldn't take your cash. Ruby was the only one extremely impressed with your situation while the other three remained skeptical. You and Ruby tried to make light of the situation, especially for afterward when you would be able to explore your relationship with the four boys, but you knew it would take a while for Emily, Becca, and Jessica to come around. If they came around.

Ruby had stuck around for as long as she could when the boys returned with the food, but the moment the other three girls ate they quickly made excuses to leave. Sadly, Ruby followed. You weren't able to hide the fact you were hurt by their actions, but Ruby assured you it would all be okay.

It wasn't. Not really. Because when you were fully recovered and called to hang out, half the girls were quick to make excuses. Only Ruby and Becca were fine with your decisions, and made attempts to hang out without Emily and Jessica around.

And Ruby and Becca? Those two were apparently a force to be reckoned with now that they knew you had four boyfriends. From one day to the next your entire wardrobe had been altered, and though it was nothing too bad you weren't exactly stoked to be comfortable in new clothes at the drop of a hat.

So walking down the boardwalk one night, you keep alternating between pulling on your tank top in hopes it'll become looser and tugging on the hem of your shorts in hope that they'll be longer. Your jackets had all mysteriously gone missing and you were going to punch your friends the next time you saw them.

Before you know it you're coming upon four familiar motorcycles. The boys are all missing, but you know it's only a matter of time before they come back. So instead of searching for them, you lean against the railing behind their bikes and wait for them to come to you. Fortunately, you don't have to wait long.

David and Dwayne spot you first, but in the few days you've gotten to explore your compatibility with each of them you noticed that these two were not into public displays of affection. So when they greet you, they smile and nod, and make sure to brush up against some part of you as they make their way to their respective bikes. Marko blows you a kiss from where he's got Paul in a headlock and then when Paul is set free he practically beams at you.

"Hey pretty lady, come here often?" He teases as he sidles up to you.

Your nose wrinkles as you laugh, accepting his loud smacking kiss to the lips. "That was so cheesy."

"But at least it made you laugh." Paul slings his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side, and you can't help but try to melt into his side to hide.

"Where'd your friends get off to?" Marko wonders, eyeing you up and down. "Your outfit doesn't seem like something you'd pick out yourself."

You sigh. "If they're smart they won't dare to cross my path for the foreseeable future. Those assholes switched out my entire closet and stole all my jackets so I couldn't cover up."

"Well if you ask me, those friends of yours are pretty smart." David lights up a cigarette, smirking around it before blowing out a steady stream of smoke. You flip him off.

"I could deal with it if I had a large flannel or something, but nope. They took everything that would offer a few inches of cover-up."

"Well why didn't you just say so, babe." Paul moves his arm from your shoulders, shaking out of his own jacket. The chains hanging from it jingle at all the movement and you smile as he drops his jacket over your shoulders.

You slide your arms through the sleeves, flexing your fingers from where they barely peek out. You grab both sides of the jacket and close it over your chest, crossing your arms over it to keep yourself hidden and are content when you realize the hem of the jacket falls a few inches further than what your shorts covered.

"Oh no," Paul mumbles. "I made a mistake."

"What?"

"You look so cute in my jacket." You huff a laugh but notice his gaze sweeping you up and down, and his tongue peeking out to lick the corner of his bottom lip. When he meets your gaze then, you gulp and shiver when you see the heat simmering there. "Come on. You're mine for the night." He grabs your wrist and tugs, and you stare at your other three boys in surprise.

David and Dwayne grin, and Marko cheerfully waves you off. "Don't get caught!"

You don't have time to process Marko's words before Paul's dragging you down the boardwalk stairs. You do your best to keep up, laughing, and then yank back against Paul's grip once you hit sand. "Hey, slow down! You have longer legs than I do and speed walking through sand is not easy."

"Sorry. M'sorry."

Paul whirls around, cupping your face in his hands and leaning down to hungrily press his lips against yours as he walks you backward. Your hands wrap around his wrists as you lean up on your tiptoes in an attempt to match his enthusiasm and you can't help but smile when you stumble along the way. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips and when they part he's quick to lick into your mouth before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

You moan quietly and then gasp when your back hits something solid. The moment you pull back to look around your surroundings, Paul attaches his lips to your neck. He tilts your head this way and that way so he can lick and nip to his heart's content, and down to your collarbone. Only then do you realize you're underneath the boardwalk now.

"Paul." Your hands delve into his hair, gripping and tugging when you feel him going lower and lower. "Paul!" You then laugh. He's already on his knees, face level with your stomach as he stares up at you with a hooded gaze. "All this because I'm wearing your jacket? Seriously?"

He numbly nods. "Yes. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to it."

His hands go to the button and zipper on your jean shorts, and you catch his hands with your own. "We're not having sex here. I'm not about to get sand in places it's never supposed to be."

He chuckles huskily, opening his jacket further and pushing up the hem of your tank top. He kisses you just below your navel. "No sex. Promise," he says just as he gives your stomach a kitten lick. You squirm and quietly whimper. "But I really need to get my mouth on you."

"Fine." You gulp, but then clear your throat and slowly release his hands when you realize no one's around. "But if we're called out by anyone, I'm kicking your ass after you kick theirs."

He laughs. "Deal."

Paul makes quick work of unbuttoning your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties. They get caught on your shoes as you try stepping out of them, so Paul pulls those off as well. Your feet are only in the warm, damp sand for a couple of seconds before Paul's lifting your right leg and setting it over his shoulder.

You gasp as you're suddenly opened up and a little self conscious as Paul stares at what he's only heard about from Marko and Dwayne so far. One hand finds its way to the wooden column at your back and the other splays across your lower abdomen before sliding down to shield your pussy from his view. Though the moment your fingers brush over your tingling folds, your breath catches and Paul smirks up at you.

"Don't worry, baby girl. You've got absolutely nothing to be nervous about." With one hand trailing up and down the leg you're still standing on, Paul uses his other hand to pull yours away from his prize. He licks the wetness from your fingers and a whimper catches at the back of your throat as he groans in appreciation. "Fuck. Marko's right. You do taste good."

"Babe," you whine. "You need to- I need you to-"

"I got you."

Warmth covers your mound and you moan aloud, cursing when Paul's tongue then licks you from entrance to clit. Your right hand tries to find purchase on the column at your back while the other delves into Paul's hair, smoothing it back before gripping it so you can see his face properly between your legs. Teeth nip, his tongue swirls, and you can't help your thighs tensing before you're grinding against his mouth.

"Please, please, please."

Paul pulls back, obscenely licking the wetness from around his mouth as he chuckles. "You're really wet, Y/N. Do the others know just how much you enjoy screwing around in public?"

"Paul," you mewl. You try to pull his face closer once more, but he doesn't budge. Anger slowly rising, you manage to narrow your eyes at him. "If you don't get your mouth back on me, I'm gonna-" But while you were busy getting angry, you hadn't seen his hand moving towards your center. So when you feel two of his fingers tease your entrance, you pause and then moan when he slips them inside.

Slowly pumping his fingers in and out, Paul chuckles. "What was that?"

"N-Nothing. Just please. Make me cum."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

With his fingers slowly building you up and his mouth now working you over once more, you give yourself up to the pleasure and no longer care about being seen or heard.

Half an hour later, you and Paul rejoin the others, hand in hand. All three boys smirk knowingly at you and you roll your eyes when Paul refuses to let you go with any of them.

"Enjoy yourselves?" Marko wiggles his eyebrows.

Paul immediately assures them you did and you shrug, refusing to feed his ego or give the boys any details as to what exactly happened. You had a feeling they either already knew somehow or would know soon given how open they all are with each other.

The next few weeks are a bit of blur, but a good blur at that. You're a little sad that you hadn't seen your girls in a while since the boys took up so much of your time, but you eventually let it go when you realized they didn't make an effort to reach out anyway. So learning to let go, you busied yourself with working during the day and then spending the nighttime hours with your boys. You'd never been with someone who you actually wanted to spend every waking hour with, so you lived in the moment and just enjoyed the crazy shenanigans your boyfriends got up to.

You had figured intimacy with them would be weird, and in the beginning it was since there were four of them, but things just kind of fell into place after the first time you slept with each of them. Each boy was different when they got you alone, and you were pleasantly surprised each of them met needs even you yourself had no idea you had. None of them were jealous or possessive when it came to each other, but they made sure to let anyone else know you were off limits.

They'd even taken you to see where they lived and you were shocked. Given their styles and personalities, you didn't know what to expect of their living situation, but a sunken hotel was not it. But the more they showed you around and you realized they had water and generators for some electricity, the more you liked the seclusion of it all. And when you finally got comfortable being there with them, the boys made what was basically a nest for you- a mattress with numerous blankets and pillows, and sheer curtains hanging around it all. So now that you had your own bedroom of sorts, more often than not that's where you ended up with Dwayne since he was the only one who actually liked to roll around in your sheets and cuddle for as long as you'd let him afterwards.

Still naked and with sweat cooling on your bodies, you're laying in the crook of Dwayne's arm with your chest pressed to his side and a sheet covering you from the waist down. He trails fingers up and down the spine of your back, and he chuckles every time he runs across a ticklish spot that sends you arching into him with a sleepy giggle.

Just as you're drifting off, however, the curtain around your bed is pulled open and David appears with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. "You gonna stay in bed all night?"

"Hmm. You put out that cigarette and you can join us." Dwayne's hand freezes on your back and David raises his eyebrows at you. "What?" You huff. "Don't pretend like none of you haven't thought about it."

A moment passes and then David smirks. "Tempting, but the other boys are itching for a night on the boardwalk."

"A night on the boardwalk? More like Marko's itching for a fight," you muse. "He hasn't been chased off the boardwalk in about three days. He must be bored." David chuckles and flicks away his cigarette after one last drag, entering your little nest and crawling into bed so he's situated behind you. You groan as he starts to trail his fingers along your back, inching lower and lower until he's teasing just under the sheet at your lower back. "If we go out tonight, someone's gotta drive me home earlier than usual. I got work in the morning."

"What time?" Dwayne asks.

"I gotta be in the office by ten." You giggle when David's fingers walk over your waist, kicking back at him when he digs his fingers in a little. As you settle down, you sigh. "Why do I have to be an adult? You guys have it so easy here. It seems like you don't worry about a thing." Fingers cease their movement on your back, and David and Dwayne share a calculating look over your head. "Sleep all day, party all night. If only."

David smirks and hope sparks up in each of them. It couldn't be this easy, could it? It would surely take more convincing. But before David or Dwayne can ask you more about your sudden annoyance at having responsibilities, Marko and Paul are entering the main room from one of their dark tunnels they always disappear into.

Soon. We'll talk to her soon.

It's one of the rare nights that all the boys are busy and you have too much energy to remain in your apartment all by yourself. You haven't heard from the girls in weeks, even though you've seen them on the boardwalk when you were with one of the boys, but they never made an attempt to approach you even after you had smiled and waved at them. Apparently those friendships were officially over, so when the boys disappeared you had no one but your own self to do things with.

They had warned you not to wander the boardwalk or the beach by yourself at night, but you've been doing it long before you had met them so you didn't think anything of it as you headed out.

The boardwalk is busy so you find yourself heading down onto the beach where it's a bit quieter. It's lit up thanks to the many flashing lights from the boardwalk, but you find yourself wandering further and further down the beach. There's a party going on around a small bonfire and when you see the numerous surf-Nazi's, you head towards the water in hopes of skirting their group without being seen. Unfortunately, Fate has other plans.

The first catcall has your shoulders hunching. You know better than to rush away because it'll only encourage them to chase, so instead you hesitantly look over at them and offer a wave. After that, you face forward and continue walking.

More catcalls ring out and the flirtatious invitations to join them get louder and louder, which means some of them are getting closer and closer. Your anxiety spikes and dread fills you. You should have stayed on the boardwalk.

"Hey, sweet face, where are you going?" Someone asks, slinging an arm around your shoulders and turning you back around to face the party. "The fun is this way."

"Oh I'm sure," you nervously chuckle. "But I just came out here to clear my head. I'm not in the mood to party. Sorry."

"Aw. Don't be like that. The night is young!" The way he moves his free arm as he talks and the way he slurs his words a little lets you know you're in trouble. "Come meet my friends. A couple of them could use a pretty little thing like you to lift their spirits."

You make the mistake of not putting up enough of a fight and regret it the moment one of the guys around the fire somewhat recognizes you. "Hey, aren't you that girl those queers on bikes pass around?" You tense as his friends laugh and cheer. "You hoping to be passed around by some real men for a change, little girl?"

You grimace and hug yourself as if that would help protect you. "I'm not hoping for anything other than to get home. Your friend is the one who dragged me over."

"And yet here you still stand," he muses. "Sit. Have a beer before the fun begins."

"No thanks. I really should get going. My friends are waiting for me."

Just as you turn, a hand grips your wrist. "Oh, but we insist." The pressure of the guy's grip tightens and you gasp in shock.

You knew you were in trouble before, but now it's a lot more real and scary. The more you struggle to get free, the more the guys around the fire laugh and jeer. The fear in your eyes only eggs them on more and the two of the guys shove you back and forth, never letting you get more than a few steps away from them. There's a boombox playing music and the moment it's turned up to its max, you scream.

You scream for someone to help you when a couple of the guys toy with their belt buckles and promise you loads of fun, you plead for them to let you go when they pull at your shirt, and you sob when you're shoved into the sand. You attempt to crawl away, but you're quickly flipped onto your back and someone grabs at your ankles.

You scream again.. and then the impossible happens.

Something flies down from the sky, plucking the individual holding onto you before flying away with him. There's screaming, this time coming from up above, and then a shower of liquid. Your heart pounds furiously as you smear the droplets on your cheek with your fingers and then whimper when you make out its color. It's red.

All the guys who'd been so sure about themselves and what they were about to do moments ago are now screaming, being tossed around and ripped apart one right after the other. You scramble backwards, keeping low to the ground and hoping to not be seen by whatever is taking delight in their destruction.

Only one of the creatures fully steps into the firelight, laughing, and you freeze up when you recognize some of its- his features. It's David.

A whimper escapes from the back of your throat as you whisper his name in question and David's gaze snaps in your direction. His cruel smile falls and the others around the fire slowly turn towards you. Paul and Marko are bloodied around their mouths, their expressions falling when they realize what you've just witnessed.

As you slowly stand, you keep your eyes on them and inch backwards as if they'd attack you at any second. You cease breathing all together and then turn to run for your life. Only you get a few steps in before you run smack dab into a person, falling back into the sand on your ass.

"Please don't kill me!" You cry. "I w-won't say anything. I promise!"

The person squats in front of you and you realize then it's Dwayne. He's not as bloody as everyone else, but the evidence of what he's done is plain as day on his chin and down his bare chest. You whimper. "W-What are you?"

His throat bobs as he gulps, but instead of answering he asks, "What are you doing down here on the beach?"

"I- you guys just.." You stutter on a sob, shaking your head as if you can't believe what you just saw.

"You're in shock." David walks up on your left and you flinch at his close proximity. "Let me take you home."

"Why?" You sniffle. "You rather kill me in the comfort of my own home rather than on the beach with the rest of the scum?"

"We're not going to kill you, Y/N."

"No? You sure as hell had no problem killing these guys just now!" You say. When you realize just who- or rather what- you're talking back to, you snap your mouth shut and avert your gaze.

"I'll be taking Y/N home." The tone of David's voice brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You're so sure that there's no walking away unscathed from this. "You boys are on clean-up."

When David reaches for your hands, you don't bother fighting him. You feel absolutely drained and it doesn't matter if you scream or attempt to run. Whatever the boys are, you know they could overpower you in a heartbeat. But the second you're standing shakily on your own two feet, you yank your hands out of David's grasp and cross your arms over your chest.

For a second you think you see hurt flash across David's expression, but it's gone within the next blink. His expression hardens and you flinch when he grabs you by your elbow to guide you away. His grip isn't hurtful, but it's obvious that if you try to yank away from him again you won't be going anywhere.

The closer you get to the populated boardwalk, the easier it is to breathe. Your heart even calms some, but when David leads you towards his bike you start to drag your feet. "My car. I d-drove here."

"One of the others will drive it back." You frown at him, but he doesn't see because he busies himself with climbing onto his bike. You take his moment of distraction to glance around at the people walking around you, part of you hoping to catch someone's eye, but David's voice squashes that hope right away. "Do you really want me to kill whoever it is you plan to tell about what you saw? Be smart, Y/N. We have to protect our secret."

"And what exactly is the secret, David?"

Though the situation is anything but funny, he smiles at you. His smile makes your stomach churn. "Get on the bike, Y/N. It's time to go home."

Your bottom lip wobbles under his intense stare, but you quickly put a stop to it and suck it up. Hesitantly reaching for his shoulder, you then cautiously climb up onto the back of his bike. You grab onto the sides of his jacket rather than wrap your arms around his waist, and shakily exhale when David doesn't mention it and starts his bike instead.

The ride back to your apartment is a tense one and you hop off the back of David's bike before he's even cut the engine. Your arms are once again crossed over your chest and your heart starts to beat faster when you realize he intends to follow you inside.

He stays one step behind you the entire way up to your apartment door, but he remains standing in the hallway when you enter your apartment and turn to face him. "What happens n-now?"

"What do you think happens now?"

"Goddammit, David!" Your frustration mixes with your fear and you end up crying again. "I just saw you-" you pause, angrily wiping away tears and lowering your voice, "-all four of you rip apart those surf-Nazi's like it was nothing. And you- it looked like you were eating them and I- I don't- I can't-"

"Hey. Hey, shh." David takes a step closer and moves to cradle to face in the palm of his hands, but you jerk out of his reach.

"I should be running for the hills and screaming at the top of my lungs about what I've just seen."

"Yeah? Then why aren't you?"

"I don't know." You blink the tears from your eyes and sniffle. "I wanna scream and I wanna rage and I wanna cry more than I already have, but for some reason- for some goddamn reason my heart hurts just even thinking about uttering a word of what I saw."

"What do you want from me? From us? Name it and it's yours."

"Time. And space." You gulp. "I need to process everything. I'll- I'll come to you when I'm ready."

David's barely given you a nod before you're shutting the door in his face. You deadbolt it and turn to walk further into your apartment, your resolve completely vanishing the further away from the door you get. You make it to the bathroom, hands trembling as you grab onto the sink, and when you glance at your reflection in the mirror you blanch and make a beeline for the toilet.

The splatter and smears of red on your face and neck is enough to make the contents of your stomach make a reappearance, and you spew it all into the toilet. Flashes of David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul and their demonic looking features pop into your mind one right after the other, and you heave one heart wrenching sob after the other.

You don't know how long you spend in the bathroom, but by the time you leave it after having climbed into the hottest shower you could manage, your throat feels raw and eyes puffy. You take your time getting dressed in a set of pajamas and then fall into bed with a tired sigh. No matter how much you wanted to drift off into sleep and forget everything that's happened, you knew it'd all make an appearance in your dreams for weeks to come.

For the next few days all you do is sleep, work, research, eat, and shower. Staying away from the boardwalk was probably the easiest and hardest thing you ever had to do, but being alone gave you time to think about all that you've seen and all that you've read up on. You had managed to watch the evening local news for any reports of missing individuals, but were unsurprised when none were reported. After all, surf-nazi's were riff raff and the authority didn't seem to care about them.

Sleep was hard to come by because the more research you did, the more it made you paranoid. You became jumpy, were constantly nodding off when you were supposed to be working, lied to your co-workers when they asked if anything was going on, and by the end of week one your boss had had enough. So after such a long week, you're more than content to stay in and wait on the Chinese food being delivered to your house.

Several boxes are scattered around your living room, filled with articles of clothing and various other items you don't mind parting with so you can sell for some cash.

A knock sounds from the front door and you get up from the floor to go answer it. You grab some cash along the way and readily pull open the door with a polite smile. It completely vanishes, however, when you're met with Dwayne who's holding up your takeout almost as if it were a peace offering. "Um. Hi?"

He flashes a faint smile. "Hey, Y/N."

The sound of his voice makes your heart beat double, but surprisingly not out of fear. You're actually surprised and really happy to see him, even if he looks so unsure of his presence. So you fight off a smile and keep your tone neutral. "Dwayne, what are you doing here?"

"We're all worried. And we miss you. The boys don't know I'm here, so don't be mad at them."

"I.. I'm not." You gulp and finally grin at him. Sighing, you step aside and gesture him inside. "Come in. You don't have to stand in the hallway." Dwayne hesitantly steps in and you shut the door behind him. You pocket your cash, knowing he won't take it from you, and lead the way into the kitchen. "I hope you're hungry. I'm not gonna eat while you sit there and stare at me."

There's a huff of laughter behind you, but the following question asked is not one you're expecting. "You're moving?"

When you turn towards Dwayne, you see his expression is now completely closed off. Following his gaze to the various packed boxes, you shake your head. "Oh. Uhh, no. I was let go from my job, so I plan to sell some things. I have enough saved up to pay the bills for a couple of months, but if I don't find anything by the time that cash runs out then I could use whatever I make by selling my stuff."

The relief pouring off of him is obvious the moment he realizes you're telling the truth. He sets the bags of food down on the kitchen table and immediately sets out to distributing the food equally while you grab some drinks. Then seated next to you, Dwayne says, "Sooo, what now?"

Using a plastic fork two twirl some noodles on it, you shrug. "I'm not sure. I'm obviously not running for the hills, but I'm not sure of my welcome back into the group after being silent for so long."

"Well David is angry," he says. Your eyes dart to meet his gaze, hurt settling in your expression, but he's quick to soothe you. "He's not mad at you. Not really. He's more angry at the fact that you found out about us the way you did. He wanted to ease you into it. We all did."

You snort. "Yeah. Because finding out you're all murderous creatures of the night is something you can ease someone into." You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

"Marko is more hurt than anything. He thought you really liked us enough to be able to handle the monsters we are and Paul- Paul is doing his best to be indifferent about it all. But if I'm being honest, he's in the same boat with Marko. They're both lovesick idiots."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

You gulp. "How are you feeling about.. everything?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Dwayne flashes you a smile and something in your chest eases. You grin and finally take your first bite of food. "After everything was made official between us, I saw something in you. I knew our secret would freak you out, but deep down I also knew you'd come around."

"You were that confident, huh?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough."

The next few minutes passed in relative quiet, you eating and glaring every time you caught Dwayne staring. He'd smile at your glare and then take a bite of an eggroll so you wouldn't tell him anything or banish him from the kitchen while you were still in there. But eventually you finish and pack away anything left over for a midnight snack.

Then heading towards the sofa in the living room, you curl up on one end while Dwayne takes his spot on the other end. "If I ask you some questions, will you answer them honestly?"

"I can do my best."

"That's fine." Slowly stretching your legs out, you hesitantly tuck your toes under Dwayne's thigh and smile when his cold fingers dance along your ankle before wrapping around your calf. "So I think my main question is, is what exactly are you? I tried to do some research based on your features I saw that night, but I narrowed it down to two species."

"Which are?"

"Demon or vampire. The teeth, the eyes, the.." you pause and gulp, nose wrinkling, "choice of food. I guess it can pass for both, so.."

"Vampire." You immediately tense, but the moment passes and you exhale as you relax back in your seat. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Can I see-" Before you can even finish your question, Dwayne was already shaking his head. "What? Come on! I've already seen you at your worst. Well not you, but the others. Just.. show me."

"Why?"

"Because my apartment is nice and lit, and I can actually look at you in the face now rather than looking elsewhere."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Dwayne hesitates but eventually angles his body towards you. You sit up a little straighter, pulling your legs back towards you and curling them beneath you. He closes his eyes after taking a large lungful of air and you watch in fascination as his features seem to ripple right before your very eyes.

Quietly gasping, you find yourself leaning towards him. There are a few telltale differences, but the most prominent are his now slightly protruding cheekbones and brow line, and the yellow and red eyes when his eyelids fly open at the faintest touch of your thumb against his bottom lip. He seems to cease breathing all together when your thumb pulls down his lip and you huff a laugh of disbelief at the sight of his fangs.

"You still you?"

Dwayne takes a moment to answer. "For the most part."

"Can I try something?"

He hesitates in answering again, but his resolve crumbles when he notices your gaze stays locked on his mouth. Eventually he nods and you scoot in even closer until you're placing one knee on either side of his hips and your hands settle on either side of his neck with your thumbs just under his jaw.

Dwayne sharply inhales as you settle in his lap, his hands now lightly holding onto your waist. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing if I'm really capable of having non-human boyfriends." Slowly leaning in, you're very mindful of his fangs when you press your lips against his. Feeling the coolness of them makes you smile and you can't help the urge to run the tip of your tongue against one. But in doing so, it seems to snap any restraint Dwayne had.

You squeak when you suddenly find yourself on your back on the couch. Your legs have subconsciously wrapped around his waist, your hands on his chest beneath his jacket as he hovers over you, panting heavily. His eyes are back to their normal brown, but his other features are still on display even as he does his best to make them go away.

"Should I take this as a compliment?" You ask, nails lightly scratching at Dwayne's chest as he groans. "Do you have a fang-on for me?"

"You're making this incredibly hard for me, sweetheart."

"Ooh. I would hope so." You thrust your hips upward and smile as Dwayne finally laughs.

With one hand by your head to hold his weight just inches above you, his other hand is on your waist beneath your shirt as he runs his fingers up and down your skin. He turns his face so it's half hidden by his shoulder and hair, and when he faces you again all his vampiric features are gone. He lazily smiles at you, but his expression softens. "Are you sure about this? About us?"

You sheepishly nod. "I mean I can't guarantee I'll be super chill when you guys.. grab a bite to eat," you say, nose wrinkling, "but I can try. We'll probably have to come up with a system so I'm not with you guys when you do so."

"Being with us won't be easy. We're never-changing, Y/N. You'll eventually need to be too."

It takes a second for his words to sink in and when they do you momentarily stop breathing. You open your mouth to retort, but snap it shut a moment later and frown. You sigh when Dwayne starts to retreat and the both of you sit side by side. "I- I know. Okay? It's just a lot to take in right now."

"David won't want you to take too long."

"Of course he won't." Falling silent, you reach for Dwayne's hand and lock your fingers together. Then laying your cheek against his shoulder, you say, "I guess it's a good thing I lost my job then, huh? Cutting ties won't be so hard now."

"I'm sorry we dragged you into this."

You huff. "Are you?"

A moment passes and then, "No." You laugh and tilt your head so you can see Dwayne's face. "You had David hooked the second you smiled at him. The rest of us were obviously intrigued, but it was David who made it known that your friends were off limits because he wanted you."

You immediately sit up, eyes wide. "Wait. Were you guys going to eat my friends?!" Dwayne has the audacity to look nervous and you can't help but snort. "Seriously?"

He shrugs. "How else do you think we get our meals? But you were a loose end. You knew they were with us and it'd have been suspicious. They were lucky that we saw you though. Your presence saved them."

You shake your head in amused disbelief, chuckling softly. Slowly, but surely you end up leaning against his side once more. "I have a lot of apologizing to do, don't I?"

"Maybe not. The boys might appear angry at you, but believe me when I say they're not. I think they'll be happy if you show up."

"Tomorrow then? I'll meet you guys at the boardwalk."

"Okay."

Getting ready for the boardwalk the following night is a lot more nerve wracking than you thought it'd be. According to Dwayne, no apologies were needed because he understood that a secret such as theirs was mind blowing. But he only spoke for himself and you had no idea how welcomed you'd be with the other three. So dressing to impress, you cut up a black shirt that David left behind weeks ago. You cut it into an off the shoulder crop top and pull on a jean skirt you had hidden in one of your drawers. Next are some ankle boots that had been a recent purchase and you tease your hair a little to give it a messy look.

When you figure you've wasted enough time, you decide to just bite the bullet and go. The drive to the boardwalk is short but tense, and you feel like you're going to be sick the second you're standing outside your car and locking up. So after taking a few deep breaths, you pocket your keys and head for the boardwalk stairs.

You try not to wrap your arms over your stomach or chest, so you hook your thumbs into the back pockets of your skirt. You keep your head held high, ignoring the suggestive comments, and then almost chicken out the moment you spot your four boys. Dwayne is the only one who's actively scanning the crowd, so he's the only one to spot you. He grins and you narrow your eyes, and then one by one the others take notice.

Paul and Marko immediately cease their antics upon sighting you, and David's expression closes off as he smokes his cigarette. You stop just a few feet in front of them, nervously shifting from foot to foot under their stares. "So, um, I came here with every intention of apologizing, but on the drive here I realized I have nothing to apologize for."

David's icy gaze subtly narrows. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" You snap your mouth shut, gulping, and then take a step closer so you don't have to talk as loud. "I know I asked for time and space, but two or three days would have sufficed."

"If that was the case, then why didn't you come seek us out?"

David poses a pretty good question, but you shrug it off. "I had such a shit week that I didn't even think about it. It wasn't until Dwayne showed up last night that we talked about everything and I realized some things."

Marko leans forward. "What things?"

When your gaze darts to the curly haired blonde, you smile softly at him. "That if you guys are still interested, then I'm all in." The words have barely left your mouth before there's a vampire wrapped around you. You laugh, your hands grasping onto the sides of Paul's jacket to steady yourself. With his face shoved into the side of your neck, you maneuver the both of you so you can turn to stare at David while still holding onto the clingy blonde. "So what do you say? Are we okay?"

David stares you up and down, taking a moment to gather his wits and make sure you're not lying to him. "Just like that?"

"Um, yeah? I'd like a week or so to get some stuff in order, but I- I like you guys too much to just walk away."

Paul pulls away then, his hands grasping the sides of your face as he presses his lips to yours. You let him control the kiss, parting your lips just so, so his tongue can seek out yours. However, he gets a little too enthusiastic and bites down on your bottom lip with blunt teeth, and you groan just loud enough for him to pull back and let you collect yourself.

When your eyelids finally flutter open, you find that all four boys are looking a little smug at your reaction. So in order to knock one of them down a peg or two, you smile sweetly up at Paul. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, babe."

"Do all vampires get hard when their fangs are licked or is that just Dwayne?"

Paul blinks at you in astonishment before letting you go to turn around and it's your turn to smirk. Dwayne is no longer amused, and Marko and David are not doing anything to hide the fact that their amusement is now directed at their brother.

The brunette frowns at you. "I hate you."

"You almost nailing me on my couch last night says otherwise."

Paul and Marko finally lose their composure, and you smile as the two boys have to lean on each other as they laugh. And though they're making fun of him, Dwayne finds himself fighting off a smile at how happy you seem to be. As the two of them pick on their brother, you look back towards David and step into his personal space.

The two of you stare at one another and the way he's looking at you, you feel the urge to apologize even though you said you wouldn't. But before you can utter a word, he's asking, "What happened that your week was so shit?"

You huff a quiet laugh. "I lost my job. I have some money saved for a few more month's rent, but I seem to recall an offer to move into the cave not too long ago."

David's lips twitch. "And if you really are all in, then having the apartment isn't necessary."

"It's really not."

In a move that normally goes against David's nature, he pushes off the railing and closes the distance between the two of you to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. You smile against him before he pulls back, his gaze darting between both your eyes. "Let's go for a ride. This is cause for a celebration."

Paul and Marko whoop in excitement, the both of them kissing either of your cheeks before they clamber onto their bikes. Dwayne has to walk behind you to get to his and when he does he leans down to nip your ear. You squeak and he wolfishly smiles at you, and you find your knees trembling in excitement for what later may hold.

It's no question as to whose bike you're climbing on the back of, but you do hesitate at David's side. When you take too long to climb on, he stares at you questioningly. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh, I didn't think this all the way through." You gesture to your skirt and groan when he starts to smile. "No one's going to offer their jacket, are they?"

"Nope."

"I figured." Sighing, you glance around before grabbing the sides of your skirt and inching it up your thighs so you can comfortably sit behind David. Paul whistles and you glare at him over your shoulder before climbing onto David's bike. Once you're settled and you realize no one is moving, you frown until you see Paul and Marko hungrily staring at one spot and one spot only. You follow their gaze and glance down, and realize your panties are on display with the way you're sitting. "Stop," you whine, practically plastering yourself to David's back in hopes of blocking their view.

Marko laughs. "It's nothing we haven't seen before."

"Yeah, but.. the staring. It's weird."

"Sweetheart, your whole life is about to become ten times more weird. Best get used to it." With that, David's bike roars to life, followed by the other three.

The ride to the cave makes something in your chest ease, and you find yourself letting your head fall back and letting the wind carry away your gleeful screams. David drives a little more recklessly than usual, but you know he won't do anything that will truly harm you. But all too soon you're arriving at Hudson's Bluff and are hurriedly climbing off of David's bike so you don't accidentally flash anyone.

"So what exactly did Dwayne tell you about us?" Marko wonders.

"I didn't really ask questions other than the main one," you say. "I know you guys are vampires and I'm assuming some of the folklore is true considering I've never seen any of you during the day, but I figured you'd tell me what I needed to know when I needed to know it."

"So you don't know all that we can do?"

You gulp under their suddenly amused expressions and take a step back. "No..?"

"Oh babe, you're in for a treat." Suddenly Paul is in front of you, arms wrapped low around your waist and clutching you tightly to his front. "Hang tight."

You're grinning at him until you feel the ground beneath your feet vanish and then your eyes widen. You glance down and your arms immediately wrap around Paul's neck. "You assholes can fly!?" All the boys laugh and then Paul starts to hover higher and higher. "W-Wait. Paul, don't!"

But your words fall on deaf ears and the next thing you know the wind is rushing by you. You shove your face into the side of Paul's neck and your legs wrap around his waist. Paul's laughing and you're laughing, but it's mostly to cover up your fear. And though you can't see anything, you can feel when Paul turns or dips in a dangerous maneuver to get you to scream.

But when he doesn't get the reaction he was hoping for, Paul eventually comes to a stop mid-air. "Look, Y/N." You shake your head. "Come on, babe. Open your eyes."

"I- I can't. I'm not normally afraid of heights, but there's just something about being so high and not being buckled in properly to anything that's really kind of terrifying."

"Is that why you're close to pissing your skirt?"

"Not funny, Paul!"

His hands smooth down your bottom, sliding lower until he's cupping the back of your thighs. "Come on. I promise I will never let you fall. At least not until you're one of us."

You huff a laugh and pinch the back of his neck. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

"Yeah. I guess you are." Slowly, but surely, you lift your head. Your arms tighten once more around his neck when you realize just how high up you are and you allow yourself to look around. "Oh." Twinkling stars and low clouds are all you can see for miles, but when Paul tells you to look in one direction you can see the boardwalk all lit up off in the distance.

"See? I'm not a total jerk."

"No, you're not." Looking at Paul now, you let your forehead rest against his and smile faintly at him. "You're probably my favorite out of the four, but after this little stunt you are not teaching me how to fly when it's my turn."

He laughs and chastely kisses you "I'll take it. Now be prepared. I'm flying us back into the cave."

You shove your face back into Paul's neck, but move just so, so you can actually see your surroundings fly past you. However, your eyes clamp shut when you see Paul enter the cave entrance and they only open when you feel yourself being dropped onto cushions. Opening your eyes, you realize you're in your nest.

You smile. "You kept it. I for sure thought you might have gotten rid of it."

"Dwayne wouldn't let us," Paul says and then guiltily cringes. "I'll admit I thought about tearing it all down, but Dwayne took to protecting it."

Your smile falters. "Well I guess I deserve that."

The boys go quiet and you awkwardly glance around at everyone. Eventually David gestures to the couches. "Come eat. While Paul was off terrifying you, Marko got some food."

As David takes his usual seat on the wheelchair, Dwayne leads you towards the couch where he immediately sits down next to you. Paul plops down on a crate and Marko distributes Chinese takeout containers.

"Chow time," Marko smirks. "Eat up, girl."

You and Paul are the only two to enthusiastically dig in, and you only become suspicious when Marko can't stop staring at you with his amused little smile. You're grateful there's nothing in your mouth because the second the words how are those worms, Y/N leave David's mouth, you lower the container into your lap and refuse to look into it. You do, however, feel the container slightly moving in your hand as if something inside was.. wiggling.

"David," you say through clenched teeth, "if I look down and there's anything other than noodles in my container, I'm going to douse you in holy water. Don't ruin Chinese noodles for me. You know they're my favorite." Marko and Dwayne both laugh, and when you finally chance a look downward you're relieved to see no worms. You sigh in relief. "Let me guess, vampires can mess with the mind?"

"More or less, but only humans."

"Duly noted."

David goes on to explain some things as you finish up eating and you find out that holy water, garlic, and the lack of a reflection in a mirror could be overcome in a private home should they be invited inside. That was good to know, especially the tidbit about the sunlight and the various way a vampire could die after being staked.

Paul puts some music on, and he and Dwayne take turns dancing with you. You end up spooking a few of Marko's pigeons, but make it up to him by kissing his pout away.

Later, you're not sure how much time has passed, you find yourself falling into David's lap. You're breathing heavy as you try to catch your breath and are even a little sweaty, but David doesn't seem to have a problem with it as he brushes the tip of his nose from your jawline to your neck.

You giggle. "Is this another one of your vampire things? I now realize you guys sniffed me a lot, particularly around my neck."

"You smell good," he says before moving upward and placing a light kiss under your ear.

"My blood?"

"Yes and no." David leans back so you're now face to face. "The scent of your blood is appealing, but there's another scent that's just.. you. I don't know how else to explain it, but you'll be able to smell us when you're turned."

"You mean you don't smell like decaying bodies?" You grin to let him know it's not really a serious question, that you're only teasing, but David still snaps his teeth at you in false admonishment. You squeak and then laugh, kissing his cheek in apology. "I'm only joking." As you settle down so your head is resting on his shoulder, you find yourself saying, "Now I'm curious as to what you boys smell like. You better not stink."

"If you're so curious, why not become half? You'll be able to pick up our scents, but you'll still be operating as if you're human until you feed from a human for the first time."

His words give you pause and you quickly sit up, blinking at him. "Half? What do you mean I can be a half?"

"Half vampire," he shrugs. You frown and David grins when you startle at Marko's sudden appearance behind him, a bejeweled wine bottle in hand. Only then do you realize the music has stopped and the only sound in the cave is the occasional cooing of a pigeon. "You take a drink of this," David says while grabbing the bottle from Marko and uncorking it, "and you become a halfling. You'll still be able to do what you need to do during the day, the only downfall being your eyes will become sensitive and you'll find yourself wanting to sleep the day away until the sun sets. You can power through it though."

You can't take your eyes off the bottle and you find yourself reaching for it, bringing the bottle up to your nose to sniff the contents. It smells fruity, almost, and just underneath that is a hint of copper. "So what," you gulp, "a swig of this and I'm a half vampire? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Looking up and around, Dwayne and Paul have stepped closer to see what you're going to do. Everyone has neutral expressions and you realize you're suddenly anxious to join them sooner rather than later. "Are you sure you guys want me? If I become one of you, I have nothing and no one to turn to should you find yourself bored of me."

"Don't get insecure on us now, sweetheart," Paul muses. "If we weren't sure of you, David wouldn't have offered."

"Sleep all day, party all night," David says. "Never grow old, Y/N. Join us."

Sleep all day, party all night. If only. 

Your words, which felt like they were uttered so long ago, bring you some comfort. It reminds you that you once wanted what they had even if you didn't exactly know what that was at the time. So now- now you find yourself almost anxious for what the future will bring now that you're so close to having what they have.

Slowly smiling, you huff a laugh and then with a faint roll of your eyes you bring the bottle up to your lips. "What the hell. Bottoms up."

The second the too warm liquid hits your tongue, your eyes flutter shut and the boys cheer all around you.