#Decided that this one should be flat colored

[aq2003]

series 3 is so frustrating because there is like a shining core of pure diamond underneath the problems . like conceptually it rocks so incredibly hard. but the problems

[zosanbrainrot]

part 06!! and the end of Act 1

01 02 03 04 05 06

OK SO THAT'S THAT

I don't have anything else storyboarded right now, I have the dialogues for Act 3 written down, but for the 2nd Act I'm gonna have to rewatch parts of WCI. I'm also thinking of a different approach, more like a series of illustrations not a comic, but idk yet, I'll have to rewatch and see!

It's not like I'm actually using a 3 Act structure as in 'a method of writing a story', I don't know how to and I haven't tried learning that (YET). I just think its neat and reflects how I divided my artistic process. I've always seen this story in my head as 3 parts.

And before I delve into part 06, I can't stop myself from saying that....... part 05 really needed another closeup on Sanji's face. If I ever try and repost it to another site then maybe I'll add it (between the panels of Ichiji & Zoro and the closeup on the spear, it would help the rythym but also strengthen the emotional connection, before Sanji shuts himself off)

Anyhow part 06

Most panels were a breeze, but the last two, my god, I just couldn't get them right for the longest time. In the end my favourite panels are the closeups of Luffy and Nami, I should really draw them more.

Here's how this panel in particular went:

I did like how the pose was looking in my first rough pass, the face is scrunched, the shoulders are high with tension, the direction is consistent

Couldn't execute it though... I think in the first rough sketch the camera is looking at Luffy slightly from above? Like he's leaning into it. That's why the shoulders can be so high up, but I didn't realize what it was when trying to clean it. So when cleaning the sketch I drew the head on the same level as the camera which made the whole pose look flat, also in this weird angle, like it's not fully 3/4, but it's not facing forwards either.

I didn't know what wasn't working, so I doubled down and tried with the lineart, but it didn't magically help. It just looks like he's slouching.

4. so I tried to rethink the pose and commit to a 3/4 view. I like that more of the neck is visible now, you can feel that he's leaning forward with the scream, but I think I could have pushed it a bit more still

5. with linework I made some small changes, like a bit shorter hair, smaller nose and the eyes pushed back a bit. I also added the scratches and filled in the black parts

6. added flat colors & shading!

Last panel with Sanji was even harder to draw hehe

so I thought this would be easy bcs I wanted to basically redraw the panel from the anime

that's why my rough sketch was extremely rough, I didn't think about it much

and then I had so much trouble with it lmao You'd think that it would be easier when you're covering the character's face, but I was in this undecided space of on one hand wanting to show the pain on Sanji's face and staying truthful to the anime scene on the other. I also found it super diffucult to show the emotions without the eyes

4. The pose in 3. also wasn't working so I tried to make him more slouched, like he's curling in on himself more, it was definitely a better direction. I tried going into lineart from here but I didn't like how the fingers were turning out

5. So I decided to get a new ref and took a picture of how I'd make this gesture myself. With this pose I also changed the position and angle of the face slightly, bcs it would have created a very small space between the hand and the nose and I wanted the two shapes to connect

6. I really liked the hand, but was having trouble with the hair, it felt too short, still couldn't get the face right either

7. so I elongated the hair and worked on the face some more and was finally happy with what I had!

8. added colors! At first I had it colored like the other panels, color just on Sanji then gradient on the bottom helping it fade to black, but it wasn't sitting well with me. Maybe because the space above his head was too big and I didn't want to have a background here and also wasn't adding the little floating pieces to the carriage scene (these were reserved for the grass battlefield)

9. SO! I made Sanji's figure darker and also added a darker shade to the whole scene and I think it ended up working really nice. Like he's drowning in the darkness, the only element piercing through it are Luffy's words. It also just fills up the space better lmao, feels less empty visually

Its gonna be A WHILE, before I have updates for this, I'm gonna have to start with the rewatch anyway. Right now I'm gonna have to focus on finishing my extra pieces for the @rdtriozine !! If any of you read this far you may as well check it out lmao I have a full illustration spread there and gonna have spots for a fic too ❤️ I just need to draw them!!! AGHHHH

[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

breeding session

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, somnophilia, kind of dubcon?, established relationship (theyre married), unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, breeding, pregnancy mentions

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

rafe hums the ending of the song that was playing in the car as he enters the house, tossing his keys into the tray that catches all the junk upon entering your home. he toes his shoes off, eyes searching for you.

usually you'd run up to rafe the second you hear the door open, greeting him with a kiss and asking him how his day was. you've been married for almost a year, and still feel the same excitement every time you see him, the spark of exhilaration that he brings out in you.

“baby?” rafe calls softly as he moves through the house, not wanting to wake you if you decided to nap while he was out golfing. he knows you get so sleepy, almost always around the same time of day, and while you manage to power through the tiredness some days, most of the time you succumb and end up taking a nap so deep that you are near unwakeable.

rafe looks for you in the living room before heading up the stairs, smiling to himself when he sees you lying on the bed on top of the covers, legs curled up as you doze.

rafe doesn't bother to quiet his footsteps as he heads over to give you a kiss on the top of the head, smoothing his hand over your hair. he knows how hard it is to wake you up during these naps, so there's no way some noises from him would pull you from your slumber. sometimes he worries even a fire alarm wouldn't get you up.

rafe takes off his golf shirt to change into something new, keeping his eyes on you, your small body on his bed. he frowns at your flat stomach, covered by a soft dress that you like to wear around the house due to the warm temperatures in the outer banks. you've been trying to get pregnant for almost a month now, currently with no success. you and rafe had what you expected to be a long conversation about the right time to have kids, but turned out to be very short when you were on the exact same page.

rafe sighs as he moves towards the closet doors to toss his shirt in the hamper, again turning to look back at you as he unbuttons his pants, shoving them down his legs. rafe thinks he spots something, kicking the pants away as he moves to the bed to inspect closer.

he crawls from the bottom of the bed to where you are curled up, letting out a low moan when he flips the bottom of your dress up, the flowy fabric moving easily to reveal that you weren't wearing any panties underneath.

rafe leans back to get a better view as he places one hand on your ass, pulling it upward to reveal your cunt to him, which was hidden by your thighs.

rafe instantly starts to swell in his pants, his eyes glancing between your flat stomach that he feels should be swelled with his child already, and your delicate cunt, such a gorgeous soft peach color that it's nearly irresistible to him.

rafe pauses to think to himself. you've made it very clear that you want to be pregnant, and surely he would just be doing his husbandly duty if he fucked you right now, filling you up and letting his cum take while you slept peacefully.

rafe gets off the bed to take his underwear off, not touching his cock until he's back kneeling on the mattress. he plants his hand on your ass again, your pussy looking delectable as his free hand grips his dick, beginning to stroke gently. 

he moves along his length until his cock reaches full hardness, rubbing his thumb against your skin to calm you, but you don't even budge, even as rafe let's out low moans, his hips pushing forward into his hand, fucking his fist faster as he imagines being inside you once you are pregnant, well and truly his.

rafe let's go of his cock before he cums too soon. he never had a problem with bursting early before you, but something about your perfect little body, something about your sweet innocence that turns him on to such an extreme amount. 

rafe keeps one hand holding your thighs parted and uses his other to rub his fingers along your folds. he feels your wetness start to grow, your bodies response to the touch, even as your mind is still in dream land.

rafe takes one slender finger, gently pushing inside your entrance, his cock pulsing when he feels how tightly you are squeezing his digit. he twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit. rafe expects you to move from this, at least readjust a little, but you lay perfectly still, eyelids not even fluttering.

“fuck, such a perfect pussy.” rafe says to himself, constantly impressed by how wondrous you are. he adds a second finger to your cunt, knowing he would usually work you with one for longer, but you are so relaxed from being in a deep slumber that he knows the stretch isn't painful.

rafe pulls his fingers out, tongue greedily licking your juices up before returning to your pussy. rafe questions laying against the mattress and shoving his face between your thighs and spending however long it takes you to wake up with his mouth licking your folds and sucking on your clit, but the need to fill you up, to breed you, is simply too strong.

rafe scissors his fingers inside of you, watching as your pussy opens up to accommodate him. he licks over his hand again to taste you, even going back to your cunt to swipe his fingertips through your folds, needing even more of your juices on his tongue.

he takes his cock in his hand, rubbing the head through your now slick folds, so warm from being squished in between your thighs while you napped. rafe presses against your entrance, moving slowly as to not wake you as he sinks his cock in.

you make your first noise since rafe came home, a soft little mewl as his cock bottoms out inside your cunt, but your eyes remain firmly closed.

rafe places both his hands on your hips, keeping you in the curled up position that he knows you love to sleep in as he begins to rock into you, not wanting to thrust too roughly pull you out of your nap.

rafe grunts when you squeeze your pussy around him subconsciously. he can feel that you are just getting even wetter, your body calling and craving him even as you are passed out.

he begins to move faster, but keeps himself from fully snapping his hips inside of you, hoping that allows you to remain at rest even while he gets himself closer to cumming.

rafe imagines you once you finally get pregnant, tummy swollen full and breasts heavy. he can't wait to make you a mom, to fulfill that dream of yours, and to raise the best kid. he knew the second he met you that you were the one for him, and he worked hard to get his life on track to meet your standards.

rafe moves a hand to your pussy, rubbing over your clit. he knows you won't be able to orgasm while sleeping, but he at least wants to make you feel good, hoping whatever he is doing is translating to what you're dreaming about.

rafe moves faster now that you've shown what you can sleep through, his cock moving at a blistering pace, leaving your cunt red instead of the delectable peach.

his cock swells inside of you, unable to hold back any longer. rafe can't help himself, looking down at you, his beautiful peaceful sleeping wife, about to get her cunt flooded without even knowing it.

rafe pushes his cock as deep in as if can go, pushing against your cervix as he releases all of the cum he possibly can, your cunt tightening around him, milking his cock clean as you squirm slightly for the first time, but manage to stay asleep.

rafe stays buried in you as he softens, not wanting to pull out yet and let any cum escape. once his breathing has returned to normal, rafe pulls out, his cock flopping down against his thigh.

he spreads your cheeks again, looking at your cunt as a dollop of his cum leaks out. he pushes it back in with his finger instantly, thrusting a few times to fuck it into you.

he flips the skirt back over your bum before getting off the bed and heading to the bathroom for a shower, smiling to himself as he feels like this was the time, this was the breeding session that would get you pregnant.

you wake up thirty minutes later, rafe still in the shower enjoying the hot water. you rub your eyes before stretching with a yawn, wondering why your cunt is so sticky.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt. 4

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.

“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.

Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”

“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.

“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.

Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.

“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.

Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.

-

You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’

The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.

You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.

You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.

Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?

You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.

In the garden.

-

Miguel heard a gunshot.

It reverberated in his ears.

More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.

His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.

But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.

You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….

Miguel frowned.

The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.

“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.

Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.

Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?

Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.

You were really fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

It was an objective statement.

But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.

“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.

-

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben @berry-potchy @s0lm1n @amelialysm @migueloharastruelove @lauraolar14 @tashames @soymiguelsesposa @noblesavagex @miguelsslutprincess @lilipads (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

[cute-sucker]

note: inspired by @lionasvault diner!jj x deer!reader ! <3

short masterlist: part two here, part three here, part four here, part five here, part six here !

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

being a single mother with a rafe camerons child was never easy.

the little girl hung on your shoulder giggling as she held onto you, and you tried to hide the squeezing pain that you felt in your heart. she knew nothing about her situation completely obvious. 

you were a kook. all through, the short bikinis, strutting upon everything you owned, winning pageants, and academic awards. it was your life. you were a soccer player on the side of it all, a crazy defender. you had enjoyed your life, knowing that you were going to marry someone. 

rafe. 

that's who the person was going to be. the sweet boy who gave you roses on your anniversary, telling you was better than any kook girl he had met. and it was all fun and games, sneaking away to be with someone older, someone bad, someone playful and someone who treated you "well." it helped that he was kook too, smug about his place in the world, and a callous hand dragging you across to show you around at parties. 

school ended on a good note for you, and you headed to university, with high dreams and a cute boyfriend at that. sure he was brooding, sure he was mean, sure he dropped notes about you not needing a higher education because you were wife material. but your parents had told you to go and be independent. 

so that's what you were doing. now, escaping from his clutches, a six-month-old baby girl gurgled at you as you tried to ignore the unfamiliarity of the whole new place you had rented. it was a cute town you thought, the little painted signs, and you found yourself staring at the flat. your landlord's little painted key felt warm in your hand, and you found yourself tearing up. 

finally, you set down your small brown suitcase, willing yourself to be stronger. willing yourself to look at the bright side of things, the fact that the apartment had 1 room for the two of you, and the fact that the sink had pretty roses on it, and the fact that you were finally free. 

you gazed back at your baby, her sleepy smile, as her eyes blinked and when it found a familiar face - gurgled with happiness. you felt as if your heart was going to burst with happiness, and with that, you decided that you should explore the town

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

the town was better than you thought it would be, there was a small ballet studio across the street, meek book stands nearby, and a farmers market that sold you the ripest strawberries known to mankind. so yes, when you saw those strawberries you bought a carton. immediately your baby girl made grabby grabby hands, and you smiled down at her, brushing a curl of hair away from her face. 

"what, baby? you want one too?" you cooed, before giving her a red strawberry. she squealed before taking a big bite out of it, mushing it in her claw hands, giving you an inquisitory look. you sighed, and continued to push the stroller. 

jj's diner. 

that's what it read on bright rusty red letters, it was colored a gorgeous gray, and the glass windows showed a homely setting. grandparents sat with one other, sipping on coffees, you watched kids take big bites out of syrapy pancakes and stripes of bacon. this was a scene to beyond, and you couldn't help but yearn for it, as you opened the door of the diner. 

a sweet smell wafted by, as if fresh blueberry muffins had just been made. it felt like home, like a safe space, and before you knew it you were dragging in your stroller, and sitting down near the window. finally you found yourself smiling with joy as you looked down at the laminated plastic menu. 

"i'm jj, what can i get 'cha?" a gruff voice muttered, and you pursed your lips before looking up. it was a guy with dirty blonde hair, a backward hat, and white tee with what looked like mustard to you? "c'mon mama, i don't got all the time in the world." 

he looked at you pointly as if annoyed. the name 'jj,' seemed to flash in your mind. that was the diner's name? this was his diner, wasn't it. clearly they were short on staff. 

you flushed quickly, and you picked up your menu, "yeah i'll take the pancakes? extra syrup, and maybe some..." you crinkled your nose before looking at your baby girl who had a menu in her mouth, giving you a gumless smile "can i have mashed banana?" 

he looked baffled, chuckling while putting a hand on his hip, "mashed bananas? i don't serve that." once again you felt like an idiot stammering out your words. finally it was as if he looked at you properly, your creased clothes and messy hair. you had been up all night worrying about this move. 

he shook his head, and then swiped a hand to pick up the menus, "yeah. it's alright. mashed bananas and pancakes. got it." and somehow when he gave you that half smile you felt your heart lift up. 

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

by the end of the trip to the diner, you had gotten up to clean your hands asking a kind lady to look after your baby for a second - and when you came back jj was sitting next to your baby cooing. 

he gave you a confused look when you came back, as your baby chewed on his finger, giving a delighted shriek. you found yourself trying to figure out what was happening. 

"she yours?" he asked, and you gave him a quick nod before trying to pull her into your arms. you avoided his gaze. you didn't want him to say anything about it. after all, you had enough people judging you. 

instead you zoned on your baby who gave a final cry before letting you pick her up. she still reached her chubby arms for jj's, eyes welling up as if she was going to cry. 

you sighed, "really sorry about this. i know it's not okay." 

jj looked at you again, reaching for his hate before waving his hand to console you, "nah. i don't mind." 

you gave him a tightlipped smile, and then put your baby in your stroller to head out, "thanks for everything." 

"don't mention it." 

somehow you felt as if you had made a friend. 

[theminecraftbee]

Grian pauses, turns around, walks back over to BigB, and squints at him.

"Hey, wait. Why are they red?"

"What?" BigB says, shoving his old secrets into his bag.

"They're red! I saw them!" Grian says. "That's the wrong color? Everyone's tasks are on normal parchment. Why are they red?"

"No they aren't," BigB lies.

"Yes, they are, I can see them," Grian says.

"Maybe parrots are colorblind," BigB says. "They're definitely not red. They're... normal-colored. Maybe your tasks are the ones that are the wrong color."

"What? No, I would know what color the tasks are supposed to be. They're supposed to be on normal parchment, I swear! I don't know why yours are red!"

"And I told you, there are no red tasks here. Are you feeling okay?" BigB says, knowing full well he didn't hide them perfectly in his bag, but in too deep to not keep committing now.

"What are you doing," whispers Grian. "What is wrong with you."

"I don't know, man, you're the one who keeps on showing up and yelling at me," BigB says.

"Look, they're just--why are those the wrong color?"

"I'm just saying. Maybe you're the only one who has them on a color that isn't red. If my tasks are red. Which they aren't!"

Grian throws his hands in the air. "And I told you, I'd know what color the tasks the Secret Keeper hands out are, wouldn't I?"

"I mean, I don't know. Why would you?" BigB asks.

Grian freezes in place.

"If you're so certain you know what color the tasks the weird god-statue hands out are, like, how? You're just as trapped here as the rest of us, right?"

"I just do," Grian says. "You know how I. You know. I'm supposed to help enforce the rules. So I just--"

"Nah, don't worry about it, I just wanted to see what you'd try to say for an answer," BigB says magnanimously. "I know why you know."

"...you do?" Grian says weakly.

"I mean, yeah. I was there too, Grian. I don't know why even the guys watching tend to forget I know about them. Hey, maybe that's why my task is red! Because I knew people would see it! Of course, that would only be true if it were red. It's not though. You should really work on that."

Grian stares. He looks oddly shaken. "Huh," he says.

"Is that all? Because, like, I have more doors to build," BigB says.

"You are the most deeply confusing person I know," Grian says, but it sounds more like a compliment than something meant to be upsetting. BigB decides it's fine to leave it be, especially since Grian's voice is oddly flat in the way it gets when he's considering whether or not to ruin everything. BigB figures it's best to stay out of his way when he gets like that. He also knows how impossible it actually is to stay out of the way, but hey. That's just how life goes sometimes.

Instead, he goes back to digging tunnels, waving as he goes to Grian, to the Secret Keeper, and to you.

[wordsbyrian]

Would you pls do a Mary earps imagine with them filming TikTok’s together and being otp x

A/n: Not exactly what you asked for but close enough i think.

TikTok is the bane of your very existence.

It’s the bane of your professional life as a chef because everytime you turn around one of your crew is using prep time to make a concoction and upload it to that godforsaken app.

And in your personal life?

Well, in your personal life, it feels like every time you blink you're being sucked into filming one of those stupid videos with your girlfriend.

The first time it happened, you were barely even sure what was going on.

The two of you had been getting ready to go on a date to a relatively nice restaurant, when she pulled up in front of her phone’s camera so she could show off what you were wearing.

That had been the beginning of the madness (as well as a very hard launch of your relationship to the public).

It didn’t really matter what you were doing, if Mary had decided that a video needed to be filmed, it’d be filmed.

A literal walk in the park. TikTok.

You driving. TikTok.

You tearing a member of the kitchen staff a new one. TikTok. (Although she’d been asked not so politely by the head chef to never do that again).

You cooking in your shared flat. TikTok.

Hell, she even made a TikTok of you sharpening your knives, a task you find completely mind numbing.

And if having your every move recorded wasn’t bad enough, she also had you joining her in filming one of the more popular trends. You mouthing along to the silly sounds that are currently popular on the app. Or worse, dancing, you hate the dancing.

Asking how often you think about the Roman Empire (only as often as you need to).

Throwing herself fully clothed into the shower  and singing Taylor Swift while you were trying to brush your teeth.

Making you record a two second clip of everytime you changed clothes while on vacation.

The list is neverending.

Which is why you should be more alarmed when you see her walking into the kitchen  with her phone out but you’re too focused on chopping the vegetables you’ll be using in your meal prep.

 “Baby,” she says.

“Hmm?”

“Can we record a TikTok?”

“Can I keep doing what I’m doing,” you ask in return, still not looking up from the cutting board.

“You don’t need to do anything but stand there and look pretty,” Mary says as she sets her phone up next to you. “And answer questions,” she adds as an afterthought.

You roll your eyes but don’t make any additional comments as you see her hit record.

“So a ton of you have been asking in the comments how my wife manages to be a professional chef when she has so many food allergies,” Mary says, looking directly at the camera. “And I figured it was better if I just let her explain it. Babe?”

Admittedly, you hadn’t really been listening to every word that she had been saying, only really listening to every word that she had been saying, only really catching the words ‘allergies’ and ‘professional chef’, which is a topic you get asked about a lot. So you just answer without really thinking.

“My main allergies are seafood, peanuts and treenuts. And since I’m one of 2 or 3 sous on any given night, I just,” you pause, “wait, what did you just call me?”

You can feel cheeks heating up as your brain finally processes what just happened.

“What? Babe?”

Mary’s playing dumb on purpose. She knows it. You know it. And you both know that the other one knows.

“Not that, the other thing.”

“What my wife,” she asks.

A cheeky grin breaks out on Mary’s face as she watches even more color rush to your face.

For you, when she repeats it, you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe and you know that your next words come out a little choked (much to Mary’s amusement.)

“Yup, that.”

As calmly as you can manage, you put your knife down and take off your apron before walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I have to find my wallet and keys,” you shoot back.

“Why?”

“I gotta go buy a ring before you change your mind!”

The sound of her laughter is the only thing you hear as you close the door behind you.

The video is up on that cursed app by the end of the week.

A photo of the ring on Mary’s finger goes up just a few hours before.

[1d1195]

Honey III

Read Honey here | ~7.8k words

From Me: It's slow going here timewise. I just have a lot to say.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, pining, more of a daddy-kink if you don't blink. Some jealous Harry (NIALL 😍) and some mentions of self-care 😉

Summary: “Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked.

“Hmm?”

“I love Cece.”

Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one...and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”

Harry nearly sprinted into his home just like he had in his dream. He was so excited to kiss Cece as much as humanly possible. But when he got there the house was silent. Not a single light was on in any of the main rooms that should have been on. Even if it was in the middle of the day, the kitchen light was almost always on. Harry frowned wondering why on earth she would take his daughter out when she knew he was going to be home today.

Right about lunchtime, he decided it was a half day for himself since he missed Cece so much.

Which is why he was so sad she wasn't there. He went to the garage to see the car he left for her was gone which meant she purposefully left with his daughter.

He called her immediately. Curious more than anything but became irritated once it didn’t go through. Where the fuck was she that she didn't get service? He frowned and ran a hand through his hair looking at the messages she sent earlier in the morning and realized she hadn’t sent her normal mid-morning update. Harry felt a hot, creeping feeling start from his toes and it flowed all the way up his body.

What the fuck?

He called Niall. He was of course still at the office, and he was hoping maybe she was trying to surprise him. “Is Cece there?” He asked.

“What did she drive herself?” He snorted.

“Niall," he grumbled.

“No of course not. What’s wrong?”

“They’re not here,” his voice flat, irritated.

Niall didn’t say anything. Which told him that he was right to be confused and worried. “Oh,” he murmured.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Her phone's not connecting.”

“Shit,” he sighed. “Hold on... let me...” he hung up and Harry paced looking at the ceiling. After a moment he called back. “Nothing,” he frowned. “Listen, you trust her, and she loves Cece. She knows how much you missed her so if she left with her, it was for a good reason. Check your cameras.”

Harry put it on speaker and searched through the last few hours of footage. She left almost two hours ago—right around when he got the first of his daily picture updates. There was nothing other than seeing her car leave so there wasn’t anything to go off as far as where she was headed.

“Hold on,” Niall said and hung up again. Harry paced hands shaking as he tried to cling to the control he desperately wanted. When he called back, Niall took a deep breath. “Okay, she’s fine. So just don’t freak—”

“Niall spit it the fuck out!” He snapped.

“She’s at the hospital and—”

Harry slammed his phone on the counter so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if it was shattered—his phone or his counter, maybe both. He sped twenty miles over the limit the entire way. He parked in a tow zone and headed directly to the desk and presented what little information he knew. He was directed to the pediatric ward.

“Harry!” She shouted in shock as she hurried to him entering the floor and looking around for help. The dream he had of kissing the perfect girl was long gone. His trust in her was cracking like thin ice on a pond. He didn’t want it to, but what was he supposed to think? How could she do this?

“Where is she?” He snapped. Anger and hurt on his face. She blinked in surprise, confused by how mad he looked and why it was directed at her.

“She’s right—” She pointed toward the door and Harry shoved his way in without even letting her finish.

Cece was gazing up at the lights and other than a flush of color on her face, she looked perfectly normal. “Hello, sweet girl,” Harry cooed. His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He hunched over the bed made for a little kid, but she was of course so tiny it made his heart ache. He felt tears sting the back of his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked. Cece smiled, delight dancing in her pretty eyes as she recognized Harry. As if she wasn’t in a hospital and he hadn't seen her in over two days.

“Harry,” she said from behind him. She was holding a cup of coffee in her hands as she watched the pair of them. Harry was fuming. Pretty sure he had literal steam coming out of his ears from how hot he felt. But when he glanced back at her, there was one small part of him that couldn’t help but notice she looked exhausted. As exhausted as Harry felt his anger boiling him from the inside. “I tried all day to get in touch with you.”

The small reprieve he had from seeing her exhaustion was gone. Anger coursed through him with a vengeance, and he turned away from his favorite little baby and looked at her.

His eyes narrowed into a glare. He shook his head disappointment all over his face. “How could you fucking do that?” He snarled.

She blinked, surprised by his tone directed at her, completely flooring her. “I tried—”

“You could have tried harder,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what y’did t’me just now? You know how terrified I am of losing her,” his voice felt off. Strangled by his own emotion. “This is unacceptable. How dare you—”

But she doesn’t even flinch when he yelled; instead, she glared right back at him. Stepped toward him, bitterness in her expression, her tone, and her body language. “I tried, Harry,” she snapped just as irritated as Harry had. “I have called every number I had access to. I tried to contact your mom and sister through social media, but they must have private accounts. I tried everything. I called every person at your company, and they kept transferring me to your incompetent secretary so don’t fucking yell at me like I didn’t do everything I could have done,” she pulled her phone from her pocket and threw it the short distance at him which he caught easily. “Go ahead, go through every app and message, I’ve spent hours on the phone,” she assured him. “There’s no goddamn service here on top of that, so I kept using the nurse’s phone. I tried, Harry. I would never try to scare you like that by leaving you in the dark.”

Harry glanced down at the list of numbers with multiple calls to numbers from his company he recognized the grouping, all the numbers off by one for the different sectors. Each listing had a minimum of three missed calls most were closer to ten. Throughout the listings, Harry's name appeared, five, eight, six, at least fifty he had to imagine at the end of it. Niall had about the same. There was a plethora of messages sent to his phone too. Not sure you're getting these, but nothing is working. This is a shitty way to say it but we're at the hospital. Everything's okay, I just want to get her fever down. Niall’s thread had similar messages along with He's going to hate me :(

Harry's heart ached. He never received the messages, and knowing that one to Niall broke his heart most of all.

How could not one of her calls or messages have reached him?

“I take my job so seriously Harry. Of course I wanted you to know before I brought her here. But you entrusted me with Cece’s care and wellbeing and I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. I talked to your secretary over and over and she didn’t pass the message on because you were in meetings and refused to interrupt even though I begged. Niall’s phone worked either. I tried everything short of leaving her here alone and coming to get you myself.”

Harry flinched. He would never want her to do that. Leaving Cece alone was one of his worst fears.

How could his secretary not pass along messages about his daughter? Harry was so angry and now, he had someone to actually be angry at. “Fuck,” he snapped and headed out of the room.

“Where are you—”

Harry marched out of the room up to the desk station in the middle of the floor. He reached over and grabbed one of the phones without asking. The nurse closest to him opened her mouth to answer but after looking at Harry briefly, his intimidating stature, and anger rolling off him in hot waves, she thought better than to deny him the phone.

“Niall,” he ground out when the phone stopped ringing. His teeth hurt.

“I think I figured it out... The work phones have been wonky all day for everyone. I contacted the phone company--” Niall answered without waiting for Harry.

“Are y'still at the office?” His voice was low, angry as hell.

“Yeah... of course. How is she?"

"Fine."

"Are you sure? Fuck, Harry... that was so bad. I guess since we have personal phones through the work offer—”

He didn't have time for this. “Fire my secretary, Niall.”

“What?” Niall shook his head forgetting his train of thought about the phones.

“Tell her t'pack her shit and go,” he snapped and slapped the phone down into the receiver making the nurse bounce in her seat.

He turned to find her standing in the doorway between him and his daughter. “I’m sorry,” his voice was raw, and he ran a hand over his tired face. “I shouldn’t have...” he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to quell the emotion in his throat and eyes. “I can’t lose her,” he murmured.

Then, as if he hadn’t just implied that he didn’t trust her, she sighed. “Of course not,” she whispered. “I swear, I was doing—”

“I know,” he shook his head. “I know, I’m sorry. M’sorry I implied otherwise. I shouldn’t have—”

“Forget it,” she waved her hand flippantly. She crossed the few feet of space between her and Harry and she grabbed his hand. It felt so warm, so safe. She squeezed his hand and tugged him back to the room. “Come see her, she missed you,” she tilted her head toward the room. It was forgotten. The way he yelled at her. The way he insinuated she was anything but trustworthy.

Harry felt shaky and broken but glad she was there to keep him from freaking out. Glad she was willing to overlook his anger even if he knew he didn't deserve it. How quickly that feeling of being broken, cheated on, and lied to returned and made him feel worse than any of the times he had experienced before. She had no idea how much she had changed him and she hadn't done anything other than care for his baby.

Once in the room, he shook his head and focused his attention to his precious angel sucking on her pacifier happily and quietly in the hospital bed. “I will say though," she dropped Harry's hand as she crouched on one side of the bed and brushed her fingers over her cheek. "She looks pretty freaking cute in this big bed,” she whispered a smile in her voice.

Harry couldn’t argue. Cece looked cute as hell everywhere though. He wanted to smother her little face with kisses until she giggled. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “She’s okay?” He asked quietly. He should have asked that first rather than exploding at her. Even if he was mad, it should have been his first concern.

“Just a fever,” she promised. “Comes with the earache and cold she’s got," she frowned. "Poor baby woke up in the middle of the night. Inconsolable," she explained. "The medicine wasn't helping after a while and I wanted to be safer than sorry. Little miss scared me half to death,” she sighed her worried expression breaking Harry's heart. No wonder she was exhausted. At least Harry had a full night's sleep. He was getting a new phone company tomorrow. “But she’s on the mend now. Some stronger meds and whatnot. I hope that’s okay.”

“You hope that y’deciding t’give her medicine that will make her feel better is okay with me, after I screamed at you?”

She smiled wryly. Like she was keeping a secret. She rested a hand on Cece's leg over the blanket while Harry brushed his thumb along her face. It felt right holding his sweet baby with her looking at Cece like she was the most amazing thing to ever grace the earth (and she was, but Harry didn't know someone not related to her could feel that way). “To be fair," she sighed and squeezed her leg. "If my daughter were in a hospital and I didn’t know, I would have burned the whole city down until I found her.”

Harry smirked. “Thank you,” he hoped the sincerity in his voice made up for how terribly he treated her. “I’m sorry about the phone issue. It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

"Don't mention it, Harry," she smiled.

*

Harry woke with a start in the middle of the night. He sat up and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water, feeling emotionally drained. The hospital visit ended only a couple hours after he arrived. Because his car had been promptly towed after his arrival, he drove Cece and Miss Honey in her car on the way back home. She sat with Cece in the backseat without asking but Harry was extremely grateful.

Once he finished his glass of water, he peeked inside of the fridge. It was stuffed with several containers of yummy food she had made the last couple days. Half of them were labeled for Niall with hearts all over the sticky notes that made him roll his eyes.

The other half were labeled Dada with a single heart, but Harry thought the one heart was more important than all the ones Niall had.

He smirked and glanced around at all the decorations she had put up for Halloween, making his house feel like a home. It hadn’t felt like that in all the time he lived there. As he returned to his bedroom, he thought he would make a pitstop in Cece’s room.

Harry was an idiot to adamantly deny his feelings for Miss Honey. He was serious when he told Niall how perfect she was. At the time, he had convinced himself that it was because she was perfect for Cece. But if he wasn't in love with her before, he was now.

She laid across the area rug tucked part way under Cece’s crib. A pillow held below her head like she was hugging it, and her adorable seasonal blanket draped across her. But it didn’t reach her toes. Her eyebrows were pinched together like she was having a bad dream. Harry didn’t want her lying on the floor, but he didn't want to wake her either. She had a longer day than he did. His heart clenched knowing how much she adored Cece. How she would do anything for his little baby.

Harry grabbed one of the many fluffy blankets in Cece’s collection beneath the window. He spread it over her to cover her legs, making sure her feet were got wrapped up too. The crinkle of her eyebrows disappeared as he did which only tightened the bubble around his heart.

Grabbing another blanket from her basket, he settled into the chair. No way he could go back to his room knowing his favorite women were in one room. After watching both of them for a time, he fell asleep.

*

When she woke up, she stretched, her back creaking from the hard surface she slept on. But other than sleeping in the crib with Cece, this was as close as she could have gotten and it was well worth it to ease the anxiety she felt from the previous day. Getting to her knees, she sighed again, leaning low to stretch her lower back, her forehead touching the floor as she bowed backward. It was still early. Too early for even Cece to be awake.

The nightlight plugged into the wall was soft and painted the room in a warm, gentle, yellow glow. She peered at Cece through the slats of her crib and smiled—she was sleeping soundly, no pain, no fever. Just a little stuffy. “You scared me, pretty girl,” she whispered quietly.

“Me too,” Harry’s deep voice spooked her because she hadn’t registered that he was snuggled cutely into the chair that she assumed was used for late night feedings back in the first couple months of Cece’s life--split between Harry, his mum, and his sister. She pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart. Her cheeks felt warm. If she had been turned away from Cece’s crib, she would have noticed his presence, but her yoga pose was done without thought and now she felt embarrassed that her boss saw her stretching her lower back out.

His voice was raspier in the morning. His eyes seemed tired but still as beautiful as he always was. She could see he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and she wondered if he had forgone the sweats again as he had when he saved her from the front step. Biting the inside of her cheek she swallowed. “I just... didn’t want to leave her alone,” she admitted glancing briefly back at Cece, her little chest rising and falling easily. Then she turned back to Harry.

His smile was was so gentle, so sweet, it made her stomach twist. “Thank you," he looked beyond her for a minute at his daughter and then returned his gaze to hers. "I was going t’wake you. But y’had a long day.”

Her cheeks warmed again. She tried to remind herself that Harry was her boss, and it wasn’t okay to fuck him with her eyes regardless of how his half open eyelids screamed sex like he just had an orgasm. What was it with getting so turned on by him in the middle of the night?

When he had pulled her from her book in nothing but sweatpants a few nights prior, she thought it was almost worse than the boxers. She had to keep her eyes above his waist but there were even more sinful things to think about looking at his pecs and broad shoulders. It worked wonders for when she got back to her room and slipped her hand into leggings and pressed circles over her depressingly underused clit. It was not good to think about him like that. Not when just a hallway separated the pair of them.

Not when his infant daughter was sleeping in the very same hallway.

“Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked. She needed a safe thought. Something she could tell him that wouldn't get her fired.

“Hmm?”

“I love Cece.”

Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one... and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”

*

When Harry came home the following day with a mountain of papers and a laptop, she hurried to the door and grabbed as much as she could with her free hands while Cece stayed attached to her hip in the wrap. “Thank you,” he smiled. “Hi sweet girl,” he cooed and bent slightly to the height of Cece at her waist. He kissed her forehead.

“What is all this?” She asked, carrying what she had grabbed toward the kitchen.

“I fired my secretary,” he said as explanation.

“Jesus,” she blinked and deposited the papers on the kitchen island. She had a feeling that was what his call to Niall was at the hospital yesterday. So, she knew why. She felt guilty for calling her incompetent and for causing this mess.

“She made a mess of everything. I spent most of the day trying to organize it, but frankly I haven’t a clue as to what some of it is,” he ran a hand along the back of his head. Harry pulled the suitcoat he wore off where his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and the top two buttons were undone. He was way too hot for her own good. For her own good. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted.

She frowned. She couldn’t imagine. He didn’t sleep much before his trip. Nor during—not if the late-night texts asking about Cece were any indication as he worried about her fussing prior to his departure. Paired with a delayed flight, Cece’s hospital visit, and what was probably a much less comfortable sleep in a chair before getting up to do it all over again? She wanted Harry to go to bed right that second. But he had to be hungry. She knew he hadn’t eaten breakfast, and something told her he probably skipped his two o’clock meal as well.

“Well, I made dinner,” she offered and hurried to the stove and Cece gurgled a cute little noise on her hip. “I know,” she smirked knowingly as if it really made any sense. “Dada’s hungry too,” she kissed the top of her head as she scooped the stew she had made into a bowl. She put a piece of the special bread she bought for the occasion in the toaster oven and then worked on Cece’s bottle. When she turned around holding the bowl of stew, the bread balancing on the rim, and Cece’s bottle in her other hand, Harry was staring at her. “What?” She blushed and tried to catch a glance of her backside in case she sat in something in between cooking steps. “Do I have something on my—”

“No,” he shook his head and grabbed the bowl from her hand. “Thank you,” his voice was low, deep.

She nodded and held the bottle out as well. “Do you want to hold her now?" She wanted Harry to eat, but she also knew he wanted to hold his baby for as long as possible before bed.

He seemed to be in a trance as he took a few bites of his stew and watched her and Cece. “Yeah,” he murmured eventually and held his arms out for his baby. “Hi baby,” he cooed and peppered her cheek with kisses. “Are you feeling better?” He asked bouncing her gently.

Harry, without holding a baby, with sleeves rolled up like that was one of the hottest things she had ever seen. Holding a baby? She shook her head trying to get the circuits running because she was pretty sure she forgot why Harry was asking if Cece was feeling better.

“Right, we need to give her medicine actually,” she said glancing at her watch as if she just remembered. When she looked back at Harry, she realized he probably hadn’t once given his own daughter medicine, and he had no clue what to do. Without thinking any more of it, she grabbed the medication, and the liquid syringe dropper needed. “Alright, girly, I know it’s not your favorite,” she smiled. “But it’ll make you feel better, here we go,” she aspirated the medicine into the syringe and brought it to her mouth. “She’s going to fuss,” she warned Harry. Harry nodded and held her like she did when she got her shots at the doctor’s office. She gently put the dropper into her mouth and depressed a few drops. “Hold her chin so her mouth stays closed,” her tone was gentle, instructive without demanding. She watched as the frustration appeared on her little face and she grunted and squirmed in Harry’s arms. Gently she ran her fingers down her little neck encouraging her to swallow. Harry watched her every movement.

“How do y’know what t’do?” He asked.

She smiled. “Classes, Google, experience.”

“Experience?”

“My youngest brother is fifteen years younger than me,” she explained. “Mom had to go back to work, so I babysat a lot. But it didn’t feel like it. Honestly, he felt a lot like my baby. My mom was great, don’t get me wrong, but I would kill for that kid even though he barely talks to me now because he’s a cool, broody teenager.”

Harry smirked. “Do you have other siblings?”

“Yeah. I have an older brother. Three years older. But I also feel like his mom.”

He chuckled. “I think sisters are superheroes.”

“Why thank you,” she put a hand on her heart and smiled like she was winning an award. Harry chuckled again and helped with the remainder of Cece’s medicine. “That was so yucky, huh?” she crouched in front of Cece’s eyeline. “So yucky,” she wrinkled her nose and giggled at her. Cece gurgled back and smiled at her. “Let’s eat the good stuff,” she smiled and plucked the cap off the bottle for Harry before grabbing a bowl of her own. “Do you want more?” She asked.

“M'still working on this one,” he jutted his chin toward the bowl. She looked at the papers on the counter beside them.

“Is this organized by person or by file type?” He stared at her for several long seconds as if that was the most ridiculous question she could ever ask. “Alright,” she smirked. “When you ask for a file, do you want the whole bit from the person/company/etc. or do you want all the same files bunched together?”

“I would probably want everything from the same company,” he yawned. “I think she had it the opposite way. Or maybe she messed it up on purpose before she left. This is only an eighth of it. I couldn’t be in that room anymore.”

“You didn’t hire another secretary?” She asked blowing on the bite of her food that steamed visually in front of her. It seemed like something Harry would have in surplus.

“They were all women,” he grumbled.

“Mr. Styles,” she tutted. “What happened to we’re superheroes?” She frowned.

He rolled his eyes. “You are a superhero,” he said simply making her stomach flip. The pause seemed infinite as he let that title settle over her. “Mum, Gemma, Cece, even Cece’s mum...” he trailed off looking at her in a way that made her feel special. “I can’t have anyone who puts m’daughter’s life at the bottom of a priority list work for me,” he explained.

“Harry,” she clucked. “She wasn’t a good secretary. You can’t swear off—”

“No. This is my decision, love. Also, I made everyone program your phone number into their phones today. And whoever is m’next secretary has a laminated index card next t’the phone that says even if m’in the middle of a meeting with the Secretary-General of The UN, they’re t’forward your call t’me,” he said it so casually and with his chin on the bottom of Cece’s bottle holding it upright, he continued eating his own food hungrily. “This is delicious,” he remarked.

Her heart fluttered. “You... you gave my phone number to everyone?”

“I never want there t’be another emergency, but if there is,” he shrugged. “I want you t’be able t’get in touch with me,” he sighed, looking at the papers on the counter and shook his head. “M’gonna put her t’bed,” he scooped her up. “Can y’leave that on? S’really good. M’gonna have more while I work on this," he nodded to the pile of papers there. "Niall might not even get any tomorrow, I might eat it all," that didn't surprise her. She needed to figure out how to get him to eat at lunch time.

She frowned and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Say night-night, Cece,” he cooed and kissed the top of her head. “Say I love you, Miss Honey, thanks for taking care of me and feeding me yucky medicine,” her smile overtook the frown, and she grabbed Cece’s little hands as she kissed her forehead while Harry faced her forward. It felt unbearably sweet. Sweeter than any bedtime routine she had witnessed while babysitting her brother, or anyone else, or the kids she nannied before Cece.

“Good night, sweet girl,” she pinched at her little belly making her giggle before Harry took her to bed.

*

She heard Harry’s shower pipes whine from down the hall after he finished putting Cece to bed. While he was out of earshot, she finished putting away the dishes that were clean from the dishwasher. Then she looked at the stack of papers on the counter and started to sift through them. Fortunately, the names were at the top of the files, so it was easy to differentiate, and she began to make piles. She turned her phone on low and played gentle music so as not to disturb her concentration nor the sleeping baby (even if she wasn’t going to hear it from upstairs anyway).

Every paper was different so she could see how it would be overwhelming. Especially if there was a whole room of it. Poor sleepy Harry. She was so entranced and humming to her music that she didn’t notice Harry had reappeared. “What are y’doing?” He asked.

She jumped in surprise, the handful of papers she was holding fluttered to the floor. “Sorry!” She grabbed them swiftly and then stood back up smacking her head on the bottom of the counter. “Shit!” She hissed, rubbing the back of it.

Suddenly there were hands on her waist. Gently pushing her to the stool he previously sat in for dinner. Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and tossed them haphazardly into one of her organized piles. “Are you alright?” Harry asked concern in his voice. He went to the freezer immediately as she was seated then came back with a bag of frozen green beans to place at the back of her head as he looked intently into her eyes.

“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Just...clumsy.”

Harry’s free hand was on her thigh, whether he meant it to be there intentionally or not, she wasn’t sure, but she was glad it was. It was warm and big. It felt comforting even if she only bumped her head and nothing more. Also, it would be good fodder for the fire between her thighs when she went back to her room later and thought about the other things that Harry had that were warm and big. “What are y’doing?” He repeated, looking at the counter right over her shoulder.

“I thought I would organize—” His expression was weird again. Like when he was watching her scoop his stew into a bowl. “What?” She asked.

“Nothing,” he shook his head quickly. “Just... m’very grateful for you, love. Niall says I don’t say it enough and I think he’s right. Cece and I would be lost without you.”

Her cheeks felt warmer from the compliment, but she snorted out a breath of laughter. “Niall is just jealous that you get to eat the food I make fresh,” she teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Are you okay?” He asked putting the green beans on the counter and running his fingers along the back of her skull very softly. It felt so intimate, and the motion went right between her legs. She nodded trying to keep her breathing even as she answered.

“I’m okay,” she hoped the waver in her voice didn't give her away.

He smiled and replaced the veggie bag on the back of her head. “Thank you, love,” Harry’s gaze was so filled with gratitude and warmth it felt like she was going to catch on fire.

*

Everything okay? Harry’s message read. She hadn’t sent any updates in hours. She didn’t need to. It was her day off and she didn’t even need to answer Harry if she didn’t want to, but he was so nervous that she wouldn’t. He missed her, plain and simple.

Fortunately, she answered before he got too worried. Completely. Just finished up my last appointment.

Just checking, you don’t need to rush. I can tell Cece just misses you :)

She smiled feeling guilty she was spending the day away from her favorite four-month-old. But she liked making appointments like this. It was easy to get them all done in one go, doctor, dentist, gyno, nails, and hair. Her last appointment was her haircut; she got several inches cut off making her feel lighter and bouncier. The blowout was fresh, making her feel brighter for whatever reason, too. She probably only needed a half day, but she thought some retail therapy would be her reward for a long stressful weekend. When she got home, she hoped to see Cece before her nap time, help with the medicine if Harry wanted (he did a great job on his own this morning but asked if she could watch to be sure), and then she planned on having her own, very needed, naptime.

She was headed to her favorite clothing store when she passed Harry’s office building. Without registering her own thought process, she was parked on the main road, and in his building before she realized.

The bustle of Harry’s main office floor never ceased to amaze her. The security guard at the floor entrance tipped his hat at her arrival. “Where’s Miss Cecelia today?”

“Daddy-daughter day,” she smiled and headed for the door labeled with Harry's name on it. Her nap was forgotten and she only thought about how he had brought those papers home and because she had asked to take the day off, he would be stuck with these again tomorrow.

She waved to a couple people who recognized her, two of whom complimented her hair. When she got to his office it was stacked with papers on every available surface. Even she got overwhelmed by the look of it.

She felt even more terrible that she asked Harry to take the day off when this was left for him.

She entered his office without catching anyone else's attention, started the quiet music from the night before, and got to work.

*

Cece was halfway through her afternoon nap when Harry sent a picture to the pretty woman who normally sent pictures to him at this time. He hadn’t heard from her in a while and was getting worried. It was odd that he didn’t worry about her when he was at work, but perhaps it was the comfort of her at his home being the perfect person to help raise his daughter.

I thought you didn’t hire a new secretary?

He read Niall’s message twice trying to figure out what joke he was playing at. He called him quickly. “I didn’t?”

“Well, there’s a woman in your office.”

Harry thought this week was destined to kill him mentally. He blew out a long breath and scrubbed a hand over his face in exasperation. “Well, call security!” He snapped.

“Wait a second...” he trailed off.

“Wait a second!? Niall! There’s a stranger in my office!”

He knocked on the door to what he assumed was his office. Knocked. Like he was interrupting someone doing important business and not stealing trade secrets.

“I didn’t recognize you with your hair like that, darling. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Harry could hear him grinning and almost immediately Harry realized who was in his office. Then, Harry heard the most beautiful laugh through the phone line and his heart squeezed with affection. The feeling of affection was directly replaced with jealousy that Niall was near her when all he wanted was to see her. “She got a haircut,” Niall narrated into the phone. “She looks beautiful,” he said to both of them.

“I’m going to kill you,” he growled.

“What are you doing?” Niall asked, ignoring Harry’s threat. He put the phone on speaker while he scooped up his sleeping daughter and placed her in her car seat. He already knew what she was doing and if he wasn’t already head over heels for her, he would probably kill her shortly after killing Niall when he got back to the office.

“Harry... papers... I’d help,” her voice was just far enough away from the speaker that he couldn’t catch every word. He grabbed the bag that was always ready to go for his little love and slipped it over his shoulder as he marched to the garage carrying Cece in tow and listening to his best friend flirt with the insanely perfect woman he lived with.

“That’s so nice of you,” Niall said sincerely. Harry let the call switch to his car, and he hurried to get to the office listening in on the conversation.

“Hardly,” she said flippantly. Her voice was closer now. “Harry brought some home yesterday and I felt bad that there was so much. He’s had a really long week.”

Harry glanced at the monitor on his dashboard catching sight of his pretty girl still sound asleep and notched up his speed.

“How long have you been here?”

She paused, maybe looking for a clock. “An hour, two hours?” There was a shrug in her voice again.

Harry stepped on the gas a little harder again.

“No one saw you?”

“The security guard did.”

Harry was going to have a serious talk with him too.

“Harry, do you have anything you want to say to her?” Niall asked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“Hi Harry,” her voice was soft, velvety. Harry couldn't fall in love. He didn't love anyone but his baby, his company, and his family. But where did that put her? He hired her to take care of his pride and joy, but this was beyond anything he could have anticipated. She was doing it out of the kindness of her heart.

“Hi, love,” he tried to lighten his voice. He wasn’t mad at her. Well, he kind of was. He had hoped she was using her day to enjoy herself not worry continually about Harry.

“I think I messed up,” she stage-whispered to Niall.

“He’s fine,” he whispered back in the same way.

Harry rolled his eyes listening to their inane conversation. After what seemed like an eternity, he found his usual parking spot before getting Cece from the backseat as well as her bag. He rushed into the building and made his way to his office without so much as looking at his employees.

She managed to organize as much paperwork in two hours as Harry did in a day. “Oh hello, my sweet girl,” she smiled at the waking baby and pulled the seat from Harry’s grip. She tugged the baby from the seat and held her against her chest and kissed the top of her head repeatedly. “I missed you,” she hummed.

“Wish you greeted me that way, darling,” Niall smiled mischievously only to get a rise out of Harry which worked incredibly well based on the way he glared at Niall.

She smirked and shook her head. “Reserved for Miss Cece only,” she squeezed her closer and inhaled her scent. “Did you have fun with Daddy?” She cooed.

Daddy Niall mouthed at Harry, a knowing smirk on his face. Harry shoved Niall, dropping the bag beside her car seat and started looking through the stack of papers she was working on while she and Niall fawned over Cece.

“Don’t y’have work t’do, Niall?”

“Figured I deserved a Cece break,” he said. “But while you’re here, I have the applicants for your secretary.” Harry ignored him and continued the work she started. Although it was obvious she was a well-oiled machine and Harry was incapable, in comparison. “Guess we’ll deal with it tomorrow?” Harry waved without looking up.

“Good luck,” he murmured to her. “Bye-bye Cece,” his voice changed octaves as he spoke to his daughter. “I love you more than Daddy.”

Niall was really pushing it lately. As soon as he was gone, she returned to the papers humming as Cece reached for them. “Oh, thank you, cutie pie,” she smiled grabbing them from her reach. “You didn’t need to come in,” she said. “I was going to go shopping but I was passing by and thought I—”

“I appreciate it,” his tone was clipped. She frowned feeling like once more she had done something wrong. As if he was sensing her nervousness, he sighed. “It’s your day off,” he reminded her. “I would never have expected you t’do this,” he sighed.

“Well, you’ve had a long week and—”

“You keep saying that, love. But so did you. Maybe even longer than me," he thought of her exhaustion clear as day on her face back at the hospital. He was certain she had a longer week.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Her face flushed a bit making Harry wonder what he did to embarrass her. “But you had a work trip and your flight issue, plus the hospital, and phone problems--"

“So what? You dealt with all that and more," she didn't answer. "What?" He tilted his head. “What is it?”

She sighed and looked away from him, nosing at the top of Cece’s hair. “You called me a superhero,” she said.

“Of course—”

“But I’m not, Harry. I’m not.”

Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and then settled them on the desk. Cece was making noises and blowing bubbles with her spit, so she walked over to her bag and grabbed bib while barely looking. Harry took it from her hand and placed it around her little neck to catch her drooling. But Harry just continued to look at the woman holding his daughter with awe. “You very much are,” he assured her.

“Harry, I...” she took a deep breath and dragged her hand down her face. “You pay me an insane amount of money for me to be a glorified housewife. I take your baby to the library and the park and sometimes a doctor's appointment. I give her a bath and make sure she naps," she explained.

"Arguably some of the most important jobs in the world."

She sighed. "Do you know how many people tell me my job isn't real? That I get paid to do nothing but play with a baby?"

Harry held his tongue before he said something crazy like "tell me who and I'll kill them."

"You do so much more than that," he reminded her.

"I'm glad you see it that way. But not everyone else does."

"What about all this?" He gestured to the papers. "S'not part of your job. Cooking and cleaning for me? S'not your job. I should jus' hire someone else t'do it so you won't--"

"Don't do that, please. I don't mind, I like--"

"Exactly," Harry stared at her hoping she saw how serious he was, how serious he was taking this. "You take care of families," he said. "But the way y'love them is beyond what anyone would expect."

How could she feel so inadequate? She did so much. But even if he placated her and that was the “only” thing she did, so what? She was damn good at it. She kept his baby safe and healthy without batting an eyelash. He knew she was working on Cece rolling over and grabbing her feet. He knew she read to her and sang to her. She counted out cooking steps and stairs and everything she did with Cece. She was ensuring Cece hit milestones and never once complained about anything. Not the lack of sleep, not the lack of time off.

She was brilliant. Harry was pretty sure she knew more about Cece than he did. He couldn’t imagine the stress she was under making sure Cece was always okay. For fuck’s sake, she slept on the floor to keep a close eye on her. Even Harry didn’t think to do that.

Harry stared at her. He cleared his throat. “Should anyone have a question of your qualifications, feel free t’give them m’number because I would be happy t’give them m’own recommendation,” he pulled Cece from her grip and placed her back in the car seat. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? What recommendation?” Confusion painted her face.

“The recommendation where I suggest they pull their head out of their ass. They’re fucking stupid for believing y’don’t work three or four times as hard as they do. Y’work way harder than I do and way harder than Niall. Probably even put together. You are on all the time. Middle of the night? You’re there. Breakfast? You have it covered. Y’have the most important job at this company--you realize that, right? I don’t trust anyone with m’daughter more than you,” he said. “Do y’know how long it would have taken me t’give her the medicine?” He asked rhetorically. “I would’ve called m'mum.” She felt uncomfortable—Harry was acting like she was making space rockets. “If y’think m’paying y’too much you’re dead wrong. M’not paying y’enough. You are doing more for me than I could have ever thought possible,” he picked up the car seat. “Now, if that’s all, I believe your first quarter review is done,” he grabbed Cece’s bag. “Let’s go. I’ll have the driver get your car back home.”

“Go...? Go where?” She asked.

“Shopping, y’said y’were on your way when y’stopped,” he headed out of his office and left her paused, contemplating everything Harry said and feeling warm all over. Her last family adored her, it was obvious. They didn’t expect her to cook and clean, but it just happened. So, she continued that in Harry’s house. It hadn’t occurred to her that Harry didn’t want her to do it.

“Hey, love?” He asked turning back into the room while she gathered her stuff.

“Yes?”

"Thank you," his expression softened around his lips and eyes. "It was really nice of you t'do this for me," he looked at the papers that seemed a little less daunting to deal with tomorrow.

"Oh... you're welcome. I kinda like organizing stuff," she looked a little shy admitting that and followed after him quietly. Settling her mind with thoughts of how important she was to Harry.

Her old family cared for her. But there was no declaration like that. She felt so special to be around Cece and Harry.

They got on the elevator to head to the parking garage. The little baby seat sat between their feet as Harry pressed the button that closed the door. "And..." he turned to her and smiled a little brighter. It touched his eyes and made her think Harry might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Carefree, beautiful, and absolutely kind. "Your hair looks really pretty like that, too."

--

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[cuubism]

more physical therapy au

--

Dream comes to his next physical therapy appointment marginally--marginally--less apprehensive than before. When he'd first gone, he'd expected to be told he was being melodramatic. That he should just be grateful that the surgery was successful and he has some functioning. That he should just give up on his art, that it didn't matter, that it was hopeless.

He doesn't know why he thought that. It's been hard to have a charitable view of people, lately.

But Hob wasn't like what he feared. Hob was... kind. To him.

So he goes back.

He has, in fact, been doing the exercises that Hob gave him. It is not as though he has much else to do with his time. Other than setting up his new flat, where he now lives after fleeing what had once been his home. Even a few months later, the place is fairly... minimalist. Which is not Dream's style. But he'd left with little more than his art portfolio and the clothes he was wearing, deciding that it wasn't worth going back, and he hasn't had the energy to replace anything since.

Or the two functioning arms required to move things.

His flat is depressing enough that even the physical therapy office feels warm and welcoming by comparison. Hob gives him a big smile as he comes in. It's pathetic that it makes his heart flutter.

He goes over to Hob, setting the folder he brought on the table.

"You look cheerful," Hob notes. Dream highly, highly doubts that. But he is perhaps slightly less morose than last time. Nevertheless, he finds Hob's optimism... somewhat cheering. Normally, he would find such a thing annoying. But there is something very steady and reassuring about Hob. Not much in Dream's life has felt steady in some time.

"I have tried finger painting," Dream tells him. He takes the piece out of the folder and shows it to Hob.

It had been interesting, at least. Distracted him for a moment. Made him think about the way children make art, before becoming mired in theory and technique.

He had considered bringing one of his usual pieces to demonstrate to Hob what he's meant to be able to do, in case that would be helpful, but it's still painful to look at them.

Hob takes the painting and stares at it with wide eyes. "How is this actually good?"

Dream should probably be offended by his incredulity but instead he just finds it amusing. "I had lots of time to spend."

He has, once again, painted a bunch of cats, all different colors, cluttering the page. It's simple, and lets him avoid thinking about his more conceptual pieces he hasn't been able to work on.

"Wow," Hob says, propping the painting carefully against the wall by his computer. "Okay. Good work going above and beyond on the instructions, Dream."

That praise alone shouldn't make something in his chest start glowing. But it does.

"It did not hurt... much," he says tentatively, before Hob can ask. "However, with a brush..."

It is incredibly frustrating. It's like his body continually wishes to betray him. He's lost his home and everything he owns and now he cannot even have his art.

"Give it some time," Hob says, reasonably. He is much more patient, and optimistic, than Dream.

He makes Dream draw and write again. It's... perhaps marginally easier after the exercises Hob had given him. Still, he finds himself getting frustrated by the weakness of his grip. And the more frustrated he gets, the tighter he grips the pencil. He knows he shouldn't. But.

"Lighter," Hob tells him, and Dream glares at him. Hob raises his hands. "Not telling you how to do your art. Just telling you how not to hurt your hand."

Dream bites down on his annoyance, but loosens his grip.

He doesn't see very much progress, but Hob seems satisfied. He makes Dream run through some other strengthening exercises, which... don't hurt as much as Dream was expecting them to. He'd expected that this whole process would be nothing but gritting his teeth through agonizing pain, to minimal results. Perhaps Death is right, and he should be less pessimistic.

In any case, Hob seems proud of him at the end. Even if Dream doesn't think he's done anything to be proud of.

But he does leave, perhaps, slightly more hopeful than he entered. And he wants to come back. At least to see Hob again.

~~

Hob doesn't know if it's patronizing to be proud of Dream, but he is. Over the last few sessions, his grip has improved a lot. Dream doesn't seem to see it, but that's alright. Hob does. He's been keeping all of Dream's drawings. They are getting better.

Hob is pretty good at optimism. But even so, it somehow hadn't occurred to him that quiet and morose wasn't Dream's natural state. That is until he sees the joy that lights up in him the first time he's able to draw a cat without his hand shaking. Dream smiles so wide, like he isn't even aware Hob is still watching him, and Hob realizes that there is lightness to him. It's just been buried down.

The time after that, Dream even brings some of his old art to show. Hob's been dying to see it for ages, but hasn't pressed. And Dream's art is gorgeous. Hob can understand, now, why he'd been dissatisfied with those first cats he'd drawn, no matter how charming Hob had found them. His big pieces are so finely detailed, so precise. It's... possibly going to take a bit more time to get him back to that than Hob had thought. But he's determined.

But Dream seems happy to be sharing his art, doesn't fold in on himself this time just to mention it. He talks with enthusiasm about his process, the most words Hob's heard him say in... well, ever. Hob tells him that he's made enough progress to pick up painting--with brush, not fingers--again if he wants, but not to beat himself up if it doesn't look the same as his old ones. And for once, it seems like Dream actually accepts the instruction not to berate himself.

All of this is, most certainly, the reason Hob does the insane thing he does next.

He's organizing his records, having already walked Dream out, when he hears raised voices from out on the walkway. The front door is still open a crack, he realizes, so the sound carries.

"Come on, you're overreacting," says an unfamiliar, male voice. "I said I won't do it again, didn't I?"

"Do not," Dream replies, voice anxious, but determined, "follow me."

"Well if you'd just pick up your phone--"

Hob steps outside. An unfamiliar man--the ex-boyfriend, Hob assumes, he doesn't know his name, hasn't asked, doesn't care--has Dream cornered in the doorway. His posture doesn't immediately scream rage or aggression, which is more unnerving rather than less, considering this is the same person who'd snapped and broken Dream's hand.

And Dream looks scared. Under the mask of stoicism he likes to wear. Any cheer or hope he'd gained from today's session has evaporated, and he looks like he did before, when he'd first come to Hob's office, curled in on himself. It breaks Hob's heart. And makes him angry.

"Stop being selfish and just--" the ex-boyfriend continues. Hob means to cut in and diffuse the situation. Tell him to leave in a reasonably professional manner.

Instead he punches him in the face.

Ex-boyfriend's nose goes crunch in an extremely satisfying way, and he reels back with a shriek, hands going to his face. Dream startles back, hands clutched around his art portfolio.

"What the FUCK!" yells ex-boyfriend, voice nasally from the blood running down his face. "You can't just-- this is assault! I'll call the cops!"

Oh he wants to go there, does he? "You wanna talk about assault?" Hob says, voice rising in volume. Dream edges behind him, though Hob's not sure he's fully aware he's doing so. "You want to get police involved, that's really what you want?"

Ex-boyfriend looks from Hob to Dream and back, hesitating. That's fucking right, Hob thinks. Not so easy to kick someone around when there's consequences, huh?

It helps that Hob is visibly stronger than Dream, and spends all day physically moving people around. If ex-boyfriend tries anything he's going to get put on the ground.

Finally he retreats, though with a look of rage towards Hob. Once he's gone, Dream finally seems to relax, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

"You did not need to," he murmurs.

Hob shakes his head. "No one gets to come and threaten you here. Particularly not that dickhead."

Dream huffs a small laugh. Then he picks up Hob's hand, studying it. Hob winces. It's certainly going to bruise.

"Now you will need physical therapy," Dream says, lips twitching. Hob's glad for the humor in his voice.

Hob laughs. "Worth it."

"No one has..." Dream starts, slowly, "done something like that. For me."

It hurts, to think that no one's stood up for him. Or even let him know that someone should stand up for him.

"If he comes back I'll do it again," Hob says, and gets a tentative smile from Dream.

Then asks, "Does he know where you live?"

Dream frowns. "I do not think so."

"Want me to walk you home?"

He doubts Dream's ex-boyfriend will come back to the office now that he knows Hob's willing to deck him, but that doesn't mean he won't try to corner Dream elsewhere.

Dream deliberates, then says, "Would you?"

"'Course, love. Just let me lock the place up."

He doesn't realize what he's said until he's already turned back to lock the door. Shit. Today has already gone so far beyond what he's supposed to do as Dream's physical therapist, and now...

In the end, Dream doesn't call him out on it. But he does stick close to Hob's side as they walk, and occasionally when Hob looks over at him, he catches a tiny smile on his face.

[florasvenus]

My Sweet Little Demon

Pairing : So’Lek x Na’vi (Avatar) Female!Reader

Warnings : Smut, Sexual/ Explicit Contents, Slight Fluff, Posessive attitude, So’lek and reader in Love, p in v Slight agressive behaviour, swearing and that should be it.

A/ N : Hello Everyone! I hope you’ll like this story. I originally come from AO3. Mostly surfing on there, but I decided to take a look here and found the vibe pretty nice. I decided to write this So’lek fic because I obviously got obsessed with him and I guess not having the game contributed to it even more for some reason? Plus I am very obsessed with Neteyam too as I just watched the movie again, so it all restarted lol. I hope I'll be forming a nice community here. For now this will be it. Smooch 💕💙

Index : Tawtute = Human/ SkyPerson | Nga yawne lu oer = I love you

Nga yawne lu oer...

Nga yawne lu oer~

You pronounce together, looking profoundly in eachothers irises. Each of them a pure yellow color. Dark pupils dancing in the golden sky. So’lek kisses with lust the slight swell of your stomach, slowling traiking up to suck on one of your hardened nipples. He quits it with a small pop, the humid glaze of left on it making them more enticing than they already were. He sits up on his heels, after your long make out session. As he leans back, his erected cock bobs and twitches in anticipation. Without any shame you glide the flat of your hand over his torso, down his abs until you grab his throbbing dick showing a delightful bead of pre-cum. You slowly caress him and he lets his head fall back, locks danfling down, waving down at his round ass contracting in need. With a swallow he recovers and adjust himself, ready to enter your beautiful flower.

So’lek pierces the breach of your dripping entrance with a low growl. Gritting his teeth to the point of grinding, he lets out a jerky breath at the sight of his pretty tawtute spread out for him beneath his thick, masculine frame. He tightens his grip around your thighs, whitening his knuckles even more, and spreads your legs with surprising grace, considering everything about him radiates strength, endurance and certainly not softness. He looks at you with hooded eyes and a snarl is blown to your nose, contrasting the care he's been laying on you since you both started to make out in the lushious Pandoran greens.

You’d been such a brat. Such a fucking bitch, with your human lips, pouring endless words of nonsense. Such a tawtute manner, he thinks bitterly, though he couldn’t contain how much he loved this about you. And this was one of the reasons he fell in love with you. Your vivid mind never ceased to impress himself, as he always believed humans had a weak and poor thinking brain. But this was not true for you. You were able of so much introspection and impressive deductions that you couldn't stop yourself from talking during the whole day, yet with wisdom. You had this way of speaking every thought. As beautiful as it was, it could seriously piss him off after a long day amongst the clan warriors. And today was one of these, were the strenght of his nerves weren't enough to mirror your sense of verbal connection, but just enough to pound the attitude out of you.

Sky Demon oh so delicate and gracious, that it was able to break the stiff wall of his long lasting beliefs. Sky Demon, oh so pure hearted, made him fucking feel what love was and felt the ground crumble under his feet since the day he met you. Sky Demon, oh so sincere and kind, able to knock the most harsh feelings he always felt towards any of your kind out of his lungs. And Sky Demon, so unbelievably true to herself, made him drool at the curious idea of how such a being could ressemble to one of his kind. You truly were the person proving him wrong on the fact that it wasn't your source, your race nor your home that should make you an enemy. But it was the hearts of those rejecting Eywas truth that had to be feared and chased.

As you were learning him to see the world through a different way and less darkened eyes without changing his aspects. He himself, showed you how much you deserved to be loved, even how far down you fell and how unalive you used to feel. Originally from earth, you arrived on Pandora by the mission to seek out new ways of life. Finding a way to save humanity without any harm. You then were attributed to your own avatar. Everything was fine until, the higher people, controlling the plan, lost their mind and you decided to flee into the forest and then you met So’lek. Luckily you had found a way to transfer your soul for good in your blue grand form and said goodbye to your human form without any regret, as you never felt any glimmer living this life of human roots. This amplified by the days you had the chance to live amongst them, as the tsahik saw something true and pure in your soul.

Back on earth, the world is destroyed and getting the chance to leave for Pandora, was like the four petal clove found in the endless pain field. A gift from the universe you never awaited and in distress needed. You smile everyday at this chaotic story and at how it somehow worked and shaped into the most beautiful story to share, with quite the amusing anecdotes. Like you loved to and it was utmost crazy to see that maybe yes. The universe always had a plan for you, by the way such uncompatible puzzle pieces still locked into place together. Or by the way two completely different souls managed to pull together easely. In the end, the only language is still love. And it will be the hymn of the universe forever.

His warm calloused and soothing palms craddle the little fat of your legs, calming your racing heart as he tries to penetrate deeper and deeper into your intimate warmth. Your labias spread evenly as his dick slides in you with difficulty. You two weren't having intercourses for long so it was only normal as you in addition were very tight to begin with. You're so damn tight, he thinks. But he regrets his thoughts, feeling how good your walls kiss the skin of his member. So tight, that he could even feel the rythmic beat of his heart down there. Deep pulse gaining speed with each second passed and as the most carnal needs grow. He sighs erotically, stopping his way inside for a second and taking his time admiring you. Everything in you radiates light and Love and he now couldn't even dare to imagine living without you. When he first met you, he had this irrepressible urge to cut of off your devil hands. Five fingers, the art of destruction, but today as knowing who you were inside, he only wants them to be feeled on evey inch of his skin.

Reaching down to hold one of your hands up, he put your small finger into his hot mouth, sucking on it hard while humming unintelligible sounds. Praising this part of you today was something important. Maybe was it out of guilt, but it wasn't something to ignore at how it just fueled desire powerfully by just a small actions as simple as this. The way it delivered trust and love around the air, was a drunk dizzying feeling. But you both loved to feel succumbed under such circumstances.

You look up in awe, squirming at his bold chest glistening with sweat and at the way his pecs contract with each fast inhale. As you move you can feel the resistance in your core, jolting at the way it sends electricity to your heart and you mewl at the way his warm tongue swirls around your slender petite finger. The rough surface of his tongue momentarely stops as you clench down on him, only to fully decontract yourself and finally letting his way easely in. Exactly how he planned to. You were so putty under his touch and he loved this. Loved to feel so masculine and viril in such a tender and yet feminine moment.

You moan, body wriggling at the size of his member resuming his ascencion down your belly, slowly forming a bulge without struggle. Given his posture, it's never been strange that he'd come away with such a large, long size and length. But as always, theory surpasses reality. And right now, it's the practitioner who's got the upper hand. An expert in the art, So’lek revels in your face as it contracts in innocent pleasure, and despite your pain, the oh so delectable stretch of his greatness evokes a sensation of intense well-being.

His voice breaks the silence only punctuated by heavy breaths. Pronounced accent and long vocal chords, and so on low growl, expressing their intention.

Look at you.... My beautiful Tawtute~ So ready and wet for me... He breathes in emotion with a smile while whispering just below your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sweet spot, before lapping at it like a starving man. You shiver, cold spikes travelling down your spine in an addicting way. Mouth long release of its favorite finger, he still caresses it with his own and pins it down just over your head, vanishing into the dark chocolate hair of yours splayed into the humid ground into a captivating canvas.

He enters slowly, letting your body adjust bit by bit. The vein of his dick slides through the membrane of your throbbing hole until it is stopped by the bump of your cervix. You moan in unison, ragged breaths escaping your luscious lips, coated with a thin film of saliva. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your mouth falling open as he maintains a steady rhythm. So'lek slides out of you, then gently in, testing the waters again and again. But as soon as your walls get wetter and the desired slick accumulates at the base of his stiffness, he begins a merciless rhythm that frees never heard harsh sounds from your mouth, vibrating on your tongue rarely, with each thrusts.

He lifts your hips, embracing the bulge of your bottom, and the new angle forces a long, desperate whimper out of him. The whole scene would have been obscene, between the dry tumults of his pubic bone slapping the soft down of your pussy and the grumbles escaping So’leks throat, it’s more than a mystery. Only you can bring him to do that. Be so free of his emotional restrains and that's what makes this moment so profound. And this is exactly what makes him angry too. Fortunately, you're hidden in a rocky alcove near a river that blocks out any auditory vibrations. And the headwaters of the waterfall muffle the voluminous muses of your companion, lost in an almost animal trance.

Your arms are now limp, framing your lulling face, enamoured with an expression of aggressively delicious pleasure. Your cheeks blaze with a new colour, a bright red, growing in intensity as the knot in the pit of your stomach becomes more and more oh so fucking good tensed. Noxiously more.

So’lek rises to his knees, lifting his bottom up, this new position much more within reach of an intoxicating act. Sinking deeper into the sweet warmth that has become a necessity at this stage of your shared passions, you can feel your body bounce with each stroke. Only your bobbing shoulder blades are connected to the sacred humid soil. Only witness next to the curious lifting leaves.

This goes on for minutes until the familiar sensation of orgasm approaches. Your face contorts in shock, letting out a melodious gasp as it arrives, and in a desperate gesture you reach out your arms, searching in vain for something to cling on, your eyes closed. Your upper limbs fall back onto the sumptuous floral carpet with a flat thud, convulsing with pleasure as the overstimulated nerves finally relax with a well-placed dip. Your first orgasm is like a firework exploding on your erect bud. Your second cuts you off from all air, arriving like an uncontrolled tsunami, and the last. Oh, the last one. You see it coming, but as it shoots its first gusts into the centre, it develops into a veritable firestorm. Burns your being up to the depths of your core, embrace you to the tips of your toes.

You see white as the last exhilarating breeze fades and you whine at the overstimulation. So’lek is still chasing his climax, frustrating shouts echoing off the stone walls that clatter in the suffocating atmosphere. All his muscles tense, his cock throbs and his balls contract unbelievably close to his crotch. He gives it all until the pulsation of his member points its knowing pump and in one last stroke he glues your two pelvises flush together and empties his seed directly into your womb, staying there.

You both semi-giggle in a transe, lost in your sensations. You feel his warm seed fill you to the brim, finally able to take a complete breath, whilst he lets his head fall down, groaning at the amazing way to claim you, that his to fuck you dumb until his cum paints your leaking walls.

Missions accomplished. You are exhausted, eyes fluttering in a way to try and keep them open. Long lashes shadowing the little of sight you are able to get. Wanting to watch the beauty of this man after he'd use you and worshipped you whole. Soul to Mind, to Body, to Spirit, to every inch of Life living inside of you. This always leads him in a charming sweet way to be and there is no way you'd miss it. To bad, turns out he fucked you too good. Now you can't even open your eyes the way you should...

You awake the second he pulls out though and exhale an annnoyed complain. He chuckles as he heavily lays down next to you, wrapping his big arms around your sweating body, trailing them along your curves and enjoying the after care time. So’lek loves to relish in the smell and sensitive skin of yours. Damp and buttery from the effort, your scent is stronger making the world around him satisfyingly disappear even more.

You sigh, happy to have him near you for once. It isn't often you get the time to succumb to your wants and it feels good when you can. You nuzzle your cheek against his, shiny orbs waiting for his owns to connect with. And when they do, your heart swells with love. So’lek can be seemed as a brute and careless man for the simple by walkers, as he is very dominant looking. But in truth he's the teddiest of all Teddy Bears. He smiles, showing off his sharp fangs, and cups your jaw with attention.

He prepars to lean in and kiss you, but the movement of your lips stop him. Look at you... My beautiful Na’vi~ You reflect his previous words with playfulness, ears flicking and fluttering. So ready and wet for me... You joke by reusing his words, looking down at his blue and oh so tempting lips. With a groan, he looks up unimpressed. You just can't stop youself and talk nonsense, do you, he thinks. He smiles at the thought, though he would never admit, that it is you, with you never ending blabber, that got him out of solitude.

You let him lean in and as he devours your mouth again, holding your neck, he lingers there until both of you are out of air for a second time.

Now. If you want to be this bratty again... He pauses and grins. What if I show the consequences of it? Again~

You cup his growing naked bulge and smirk. He gasps, amazed at how you caught his words and the implying behind them so rapidly.

Oh... I would love to. My beloved Teddy Bear~

©️ FlorasVenus

[haechansdoll]

pamper - lee haechan x reader [smut]

Pairing : Lee Haechan x f!Reader

Description: It's just an innocent bath and massage from Haechan to his wife, Y/n along with some sexy action between them ;)

Warnings : sex.

Haechan knows that their anniversary isn’t for another few months, but if he can’t pamper the fuck out y/n whenever, then what is even the point of being in a relationship. He takes his title very seriously. ‘Husband” Married to a beautiful woman, meaning she deserves everything in the world. On a random Friday, he gathers a bouquet and y/n’s favorite takeout. The little things make their relationship ever-growing and get better by the day. Haechan loves to see the beaming smiles that grow on y/n’s beautiful face and the soft kisses on his lips when she comes into his arms for a long and meaningful hug.

So it’s no guess when Haechan decides that he wants to pamper y/n again but in a better way than ever before. Haechan is brilliant; he listens to y/n when she talks about things she has been thinking about for at least a few months. “A massage; maybe I should just set up an appointment.” Haechan then offers to do it for her, saying, “How about I call? You don’t have to worry about it any longer.” y/n is always surprised at the kind-hearted things her husband says to her. Haechan doesn’t schedule a massage for y/n. Instead, he takes the opportunity to fill the bathtub with hot water, but a few drops of lavender oil and a bath bomb for an extra measure into the mix. When he returns from the kitchen with a bottle of wine, the bath water has changed from clear to a gorgeous purple color with specks of sparkle everywhere.

He hears the door open with ease, and the recognizable heel sounds echo against the apartment walls. “Honey?” Haechan hears y/n shout, “Where are you?” Usually, Haechan greets his beautiful wife at the door, but instead, this time, he’s hidden away in the lavender-scented bathroom. Candles burn away as Haechan quickly gets up and finds his wife. “There you are. You are not going to believe the day I had,” y/n says to Haechan. “I bet I won’t, but how about you tell me when you get in the tub.” y/n isn’t sure what her husband said but follows his sweet guiding hand to their bathroom.

What awaits y/n has her almost automatically in tears. A hard day’s work washed away from the scent of lavender, and candle wicks burned in the air. “Oh, Haechan!” It comes out as a moan, a sigh of the day being over. “I’m glad you like it,” Haechan says softly while wrapping his arms around the front of her stomach, pulling her back flat against his chest. He presses soft and gentle kisses to her neck and cheek. Breathing in the sweet aroma in the air eases the both of them. “How about we get you undressed?” Haechan’s voice is soft and quiet, keeping the intimate nature of the room intact.

Haechan helps y/n unbutton the white blouse, gently sliding it down her arms as it lands in a small pile on the floor. Haechan falls to his knees next, searching for the small zipper at the back of y/n’s black pencil skirt. The material falls with ease down her hips and falls to her feet. y/n steps out and waits for her husband to undress the rest of her. Her panties and bra land in a different pile because y/n has taught her husband one thing: ‘Some clothes are delicate and can’t be washed with harsh materials like your jeans and jackets, Haechan.’

“Check the water and see if it’s warm enough, baby,” Haechan says to y/n and she dips her bare toes into the warm soothing water. She had no qualms with the temperature, so she stepped into the Tub and gracefully sat down into the relaxing hot steamy water.

The quiet of the bathroom and the little sounds of the sloshing water surrounding her are soothing. At first, Haechan doesn’t want to disturb the silence or comfort in the room, but he promises he’s listening to y/n’s day. “So you said something about your day, love?” His words are soft. y/n hums and then fills the room with her voice. She talks about her day, about that coworker who keeps piling her work onto y/n’s table. “Maybe it’s because I’m the head researcher, but I’m getting tired of taking this women’s shit.” Haechan does his best to calm his wife, rubbing gentle circles into her arms or pressing a few kisses into her ear.

Not until Haechan grabs the bottle of shampoo and starts to massage the roots of y/n’s hair does her fast words and frustration seem to ease away. Her head falls back, and her eyes flutter. y/n is in complete heaven. Haechan’s fingers move with great purpose over the scalp of his wife; every move he makes pushes y/n further into comfort. She doesn’t even notice the water dripping over her scalp to remove the shampoo or the silky feeling of Haechan’s condition-covered fingers falling into her hair. It’s not long after that when the water goes from warm to cold, way too cold for her to be comfortable.

So Haechan helps y/n out, grabbing a towel from the rack and wrapping it around y/n’s body. The soft, fluffy towel engulfs y/n in warmth. Little words are spoken because, well, honestly, they don’t need words. Nothing will ever truly express how Haechans’s heart thumps faster whenever y/n is in his arms or how y/n’s eyes twinkle when she’s looking up at him.

Then Haechan went down the hallway towards their bedroom with y/n following after him. Her Bare Feet padded across the Hardwood floor making soft slapping sounds as she elegantly strutted her way to the Bedroom.

When she arrives in the Bedroom y/n’s heart skips a beat, because Haechan has placed more candles in the bedroom and another soft towel on the bed. “I know you were talking about getting a massage, but I was thinking, how about you let me do that for you?” Haechan says. y/n is in complete and utter shock, a suitable type of shock that it takes her a few minutes to understand what Haechan has just said. “y/n?” The silence isn’t a bad sign to Haechan, but he wants to make sure he’s doing good so far. “It’s perfect.” y/n’s voice is quiet and timid. It’s almost as if she’s scared to tell Haechan that she loves all the nice things he does for her. A smile grows on Haechans’s face, and he guides her to the bed.

“You’re okay staying naked like this for me?” Haechan asks. y/n eagerly nods while waiting for her husband to guide her onto the plush bed. “Good, now come lay down on your stomach,” Haechan murmurs to y/n, and she follows his words. With that, y/n let her towel drop to the floor and got situated on the bed, her stomach lying flat on the towel and her arms crossed under her chin to support her head, but Haechan quickly adjusted her arms, setting them down to her sides instead.

y/n couldn’t see anything besides the bedside table and the front of the headboard, so she stuck to relying on her other senses. The sound of shuffling feet tells her that Haechan is no longer at her side but somewhere behind her. The next sound that has her skin lighting up with goosebumps is the recognizable sound of the top of a lid snapping open, and then the liquid is poured all over her legs. It starts at just the bend on her knee. The oil pooled and dripped down her skin, “I’m starting with your feet.” Haechan says quietly, “Always on them, workin’ yourself to death over those damn research projects. I think my girl just needs to relax once in a while.’ Haechan murmurs as his hand comes around one of y/n’s feet. His hands are covered in oil, making them slip over the curves and edges of y/n’s feet. He’s got a whole process, taking care of each foot with care and ease. He rubs delicate circles into the arches of her feet, and then his large thumb rubs mini circles into her soles. “Those heels are makin’ a mess of your pretty feet, y/n.” He says to her, but y/n isn’t listening anymore. She focuses on not giggling or cringing away from the touch due to how soft and feathery it is.

The feeling only gets worse when Haechan moves away from the soles of her feet to her tiny little toes. Get toes gets its attention. Her big to first, which is easy enough, but when Haechan manages to get to her last toe, y/n can’t help but burst out with little giggles. Haechan smiles with joy as he knows that this is what y/n has needed for a long time. A night where she doesn’t have to be on her feet and she’s being cared for by her wonderful, caring husband. Haechan kissed Both of her feet then his hands floated up, slipping over her feet and calves. He works with ease on each leg. Pressing his thick fingers into her skin, he works out the thigh muscles before moving on to another section. It isn’t long before he’s worked his calves to her thighs, where he can see the slight jiggle of her flesh at every pass of his large hand on her skin.

The oil runs out after he’s completed both of her thighs, so the clicking of the bottle brings y/n back to life. She’s been so at peace she’s pretty sure that at one point, she even fell asleep, which was sort of the whole point. Regardless, the oil pours down her spine, pooling at the base of her hips. y/n’s skin glistens under the candlelight as Haechan gets his hand oily again and works on y/n’s ass. Playing and teasing with the plush skin. “Haechan…” y/ns moans out with a sigh of contentment. Haechan only hums, moving on and up y/n’s spine. Meanwhile, Haechan is sitting on the top of y/n’s ass as he rubs the heel of his palm into a tough muscle in her back. With every hard squeeze of Haechans's hand on y/n's back, a moan or sigh falls from her lips, to which Haechan asks, “Did that feel good?” or  “I should do that again?” He never gets an actual answer, just another hum from y/ns' lips.

Haechan slides back down y/n’s frame, sitting back on her ankles. “y/n baby, you gotta roll over for me.” y/n’s motion is slowed down tenfold; she doesn’t move gracefully; instead, she moves over groggily. y/n may still be naked, but that didn’t mean Haechan wanted to make her uncomfortable. y/ns eyes are open now, looking up at her handsome husband. “Well, hello, beautiful,” Haechan mutters, a soft smile on her features. “Hello, handsome.” She replies, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. “Can I touch you, y/n?” He asks, and she nods. “You can touch me anywhere.” She says softly as his hands come up to grab at her hips.

Haechan bends down to slip one of y/ns’ tits into his large hand, squeezing and massaging at the supple skin. Her nipples are tight and stiff as his thumb grazes over the flesh. It’s not until Haechan’s mouth rounds, the skin of her tit, her moans start to fall from her lush lips. Her moans don’t fall on deaf ears; instead, he sucks harder, licking his tongue over the nipple, encouraging her to be louder for him. He sucks until y/n is nearly pulling him off of her tit, and then he takes the other in his mouth, giving just as much attention to it. y/n’s hands fall to Haechan’s hair as she pulls him in for rough teeth, a gnashing kiss. “I love you,” y/n whispers against Haechans’s lips before he descends her body and her legs open up for him. Her legs lay over his shoulders as he pressed sweet kisses into her flesh. Kisses are stringed against her stomach, then her thighs and inner thighs, before a soft and gentle kiss is laid atop her clit; from there, it’s like being in heaven.

Haechan starts to suck and give kitten licks to her clit as his two longer fingers probe at her entrance. Nudging at her spongy walls, warm and wet for him. He never once looked away from y/n, their eyes on each other as y/n sat up on her elbows to keep her eyes on Haechan and where they met. Her mouth falls open as his thickest fingers press into her womb, pumping in and out to massage her gummy walls. Haechan’s fingers are covered with her wetness, and y/n’s clit is swollen and red from the attack of his lips and tongue. Her wetness and Haechans’s droll cover his chin when he comes up for air. y/n’s moans fill the air around the two of them, her hands finding his scalp and pulling him back down to continue his attack on her sensitive clit, waiting, yearning to reach her orgasms.

The quick thrusts of Haechans’s fingers and the fast licks on his tongue on her clit push her over the edge as her fingers grab at the short hair of his scalp, and she screams out with pleasure. “FUck! Haechan,” Her walls squeeze him tightly as she gushes over them. As she rides her high Haechans licks are gentle, and the pumps of his fingers are softer, letting her ride out her orgasms longer. “Such a messy girl,” Haechan says into her skin as he slips his fingers out of her cunt; he doesn’t take his eyes off of her as he brings them up to his lips and sucks them. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath. Haechan falls next to her, and they lay there trying to catch their breath before y/n rolls over her hips, falling over Haechan, and she pulls him up for a passionate long kiss.

Nothing rough in the kiss, but her lips are soft, and so are Haechans as they meddle together in each other embrace. Haechan grips her tightly in his arms, keeping her there when their lips fall apart. When y/n rolls her hips, and her wet cunt rolls over Haechan’s impressive hard-on, he stops her. “Not tonight, y/n. Let’s just go to sleep.” y/n tries to argue with him, “But I wanna make you feel good, Haechan.” He smiles and presses his forehead against hers. “You do. Now go to bed, and you can treat me to something in the morning.” Haechan says as a yawn falls from his lips, squeezing y/n tighter to his chest, keeping her in his forever-tight grip.

[[ hiiiiiiiii, It's been a while - how have you been??]]

[furiousgoldfish]

Survival skills: Cooking, Cleaning, Laundry, Living space maintenance, and other extra stuff, for those who need the basics because they've never been taught by abusive parents/caretakers! (this post is cooking only, I made another post for the rest)

Cooking

I'm going to assume you know absolutely nothing about cooking, and you're just looking for basic survival meals. There are videos online but it can be overwhelming to watch them without knowing the basics!

One of the first thing people usually learn is to make eggs; this is how you do it:

You find a pan, some eggs, and turn on the stove. You only turn the part of the stove on that you're intending to use. New stoves can be turned on by a click of a button that tells you which heat circle you're about to activate, old gas stoves sometimes need a little lighter, in order for the gas to catch fire! Don't worry; the fire will only be enough to heat up your meal. Once you've successfully turned the heat on, you put a pan on this heated area, and you leave it there for a minute or so, because you want the pan to be hot before you start putting food on it. That way the food will stick less to it too. You pour in about a spoonful of oil, if the pan is heated enough, the oil will easily spill around, then crack an egg directly into that oil, carefully not to splash oil on yourself. You can crack as many eggs as you want in there, depending on how hungry you are. The easiest way to crack it is to do it against a surface, and you're trying to keep any shell from getting into the pan – if you get some shell in, you can fish it out using some utensils.

If your pan has a lid, you can close it to allow the egg to be surrounded with heat on all sides. Some people like to add in a little water to steam the top of the egg, when they close the lid! The water will evaporate (if you add it, you don't have to). You'll see it's done very quickly, when the eggwhite is all in white color, and it gets a little brown on the bottom, you can check with a fork if it's brown yet! You turn the stove off, put the eggs on a plate. You salt it at your preference, and you have a meal.

Pancakes are the second thing I ever learned, it goes like this:

You need a bowl big enough for the pancake mix, a pan that is flat at the bottom, a whisk (or a fork if you have no whisk), a knife or some long flat utensil that can flip pancakes. One or two eggs, milk (can do with water too), flour, sugar, salt. American version uses baking soda or baking powder, in my country we do without that and will sometimes add mineral water. Baking soda and baking powder just make them puff up and make the little air bubbles inside of them, so you can decide if you want flat pancakes or puffed up ones!

You crack the eggs into the bowl, add milk (you add however much you want the mixture to have, there's no hard limits), add a spoon of sugar, pinch of salt, and you mix this up with a whisk or a fork, and then add flour bit by bit, until the mixture becomes a bit thick. It's still supposed to be liquid, you're supposed to be able to pour it out easily, but the consistency is supposed to be thick enough to not be runny, if you drop some on a plate, it should not spill around. If this is confusing, you can try making it with different consistencies and see which one you like best and which one works best for you!

Once you have your pancake batter, you can turn on the stove, put your flat pan on it, and wait for it to heat up, you want it hot before you start. Put about a spoon of oil on the pan, pick it up and angle it around, so the oil covers the entire bottom of the pan – if the oil is hot, it should spill around the pan easily! Then you can grab either a big spoon, or a telugu, or you can just pour directly from the bowl, the pancake batter. If you've added baking soda or baking powder, you want small little puffed-up pancakes, so you add them in little circles and wait for them to be cooked on one side. If you want flat pancakes, you add the mixture to the middle, then grab the pan and angle it around so the batter spills over the entire pan, so it covers the entire bottom of it, like you did with the oil.

It's cooked on one side when it's no longer looking liquid on the top, usually within one minute. At that point you grab your knife, or whatever utensil you have that can flip pancakes, you push it under the pancake, see if the entire pancake is unstuck to the pan, if there's bits sticking, you unstick that first! If you can easily separate the pancake, you try to flip it. Later when you have more confidence, you can flip them just by grabbing the pan, shaking it to unstick, and then snapping it so the pancake snaps up, turns in the air and falls down – it's what I usually do, but you need to be careful to not have a lot of oil under it in that case.

If you mess up the flipping, don't worry, it's still edible even if not cooked perfectly on both sides, it also happens to everyone on the planet, I mess this up regularly, you didn't do anything wrong, pancakes are fickle and don't listen to reason or logic, you can still eat it, it's all good.

Once it's been cooking on the other side for half a minute or so (usually takes less time to cook the other side), you can slide it onto a plate, then cook the rest of your pancakes (usually the first looks the worst and the second one is better), and then you can put whatever toppings you want. We usually use jam, or cocoa, it can work with just sugar, or maple syrup, or honey, or fruit (berries), or some melted chocolate. You can eat it as-is if you don't have anything. In any case you've made something nice tasting that has some protein from the eggs, milk and flour, and you're not going to be hungry after eating them.

Vegetables

I'm going to assume you don't know anything about vegetables, and what you need to know is that there's 2 main differences between veggies: cooking time, and whether they let water out, or soak water in. You can cook any vegetable in water, salt it, and it will become edible, it's not complicated, it's healthy no matter how you do it. If you want to mix different vegetables, you need to know what their cooking time is, so you could add them at different times in your soup/stir fry/whatever you're doing.

All of the legumes (beans, peas, chickpeas, lentils, soy beans) will take water in when they're cooked, they usually are soaked about 8 hours before cooking (lentils and fresh peas don't need the soak) and then cooked for about an hour. Soaking just means you put them in a bowl, cover them so there's twice as much water in there as beans, and then just leave that for 8 hours. Afterwards you throw away that water, put them in a pot, pour new fresh water over them, put this on heat until it boils, then reduce the heat so it's not bubbling so violently, it can be a very gentle bubbling, cover it and let it cook for about an hour. Then you can take one out with a spoon, check if it's soft and nice tasting, and if it is, you're done! You can now use your cooked beans for a meal.

Fresh peas you can just cook for 10 minutes and they're done, lentils can take up to half an hour, chickpeas can be an hour and a half of cooking time, you can adjust this to how these taste to you. After you've done your basic cooking of them, you can eat them in a salad (you just add some oil, salt, vinegar, spices and whatever other veggies you have, and you got a salad), or you can additionally bake them, cook them in a pan, use them for other recipes. You can NOT eat these raw, you need to cook them until soft, if you attempt to eat raw legumes, you will get poisoned.

Vegetables like cabbage and asparagus also likes to take in some water, so be sure to never let them cook just on oil for long, they get softer and nicer with some water.

Vegetables that let water out while cooking are: Zucchini, tomatoes, peppers, beets; this means that if you put them in a pan with some oil, the mix will get soggy quickly, they will let out their own juices, which you sometimes might want! Also they will let more juice out more quickly, if you salt them, salt helps take juices out.

Vegetables that don't take water in or out, meaning they can be cooked just on oil and the mix will stay the same: onions, leek, potatoes, green beans, garlic, carrots, pumpkin. You can put any of these in a hot oiled pan, cook them, and you will get a nice stir-fry, that won't get soggy. You can also add the peppers, zuchinni, or any water-letting vegetable in, and then cook it until all the water evaporates, that works as well! This is then a sautee, meaning you're cooking the vegetables in their own juices, which is delicious.

Greens like spinach and swiss chard are usually added to stir-fry mix last because they are done cooking very fast. Okay let's look at some of the cook times (these are in water, oil cooks them all faster):

Cooking times for vegetables

Potatoes: 20 minutes if in big pieces, 10 if cut really small. Cannot be eaten raw, poisonous when raw.

Carrots: Can be eaten raw, you can cook them for any time you want, they'll get soft after 10 minutes, in soups they can be cooked for long time to let the flavor out.

Zucchini: takes only 5 minutes to get soft and start letting water out, you can cook anytime in a soup, it's not poisonous when raw either.

Peppers: will get soft after 5 minutes, can be eaten raw and are full of vitamins.

Pumpkins: 5-10 minutes to get soft, can be cooked in soups for longer.

Onion and leek: 5 minutes, gets soft very quickly, you can cook in soup for any amount of time, this is the main flavor of many meals! Onions and leeks are added to meals specifically to make them flavourful, and so is garlic.

Green beans: 20 minutes, don't eat raw.

Peas: 20 minutes if fresh, longer if they're dry and soaked.

Spinach, swiss chard, other greens: they're done in an instant almost, a minute of cooking is enough.

Broccoli, cauliflower: 5-10 minutes, depends on how small they're cut.

How to make a vegetable soup:

You'll need onions, and other vegetables of your choice, you can decide which ones mix well for you. Where I live it's traditionally onions, parsley, celery, carrots for the base, and then it can be leeks, potatoes, peas, green beans, broccoli, cauliflower, zuchinni, peppers, even just one or a few of these ingredients will make an okay soup, you can mix and match them to your liking or according to what you have. The main flavor of the soup usually comes from onions, or garlic if you want to make garlic-tasting soup.

You cut your vegetables first, and the size doesn't really matter, you cut them how you want to eat them, it won't specifically affect the quality, can make the cooking time less if you cut them really small.

You turn on the stove, put a pot on it, let it heat up for a minute or two. Then you add a spoon or two of oil, and you add your onions. You let onions cook for a few minutes while stirring them, this is your main flavor, and the longer you can stir them without them getting burned, the better the soup will taste. When they start browning, you can add other flavor enhancers, like garlic if you have some, salt and spices, and if you're doing potatoes or green beans or leeks, I would add those in sooner too, because oil enhances their flavor. Once these have some good flavor profile, you can add the rest of your cut veggies, and pour water until all of your vegetables are covered. Then you let the water come to boil, reduce the heat, and let it cook until the longest-cooking vegetable is fully cooked.

Soups made of only vegetables are not super filling, so people will usually add some pasta-like stuff in it, I will make a little mixture out of flour, water and salt, with soft consistency, and then add spoonfuls of that in the soup – this is done in the last 5 minutes of cooking, because this only needs a few minutes to cook. That will make your soup more filling!

It's also normal to add some kind of meat to your soup from the start, to enhance flavor and add more nutrients, I can't really write about this because I actually don't consume meat so I am not smart about it, but I know stuff like pieces of meat, or pieces of bone are added to soup, and then soups are cooked much longer in order for the nutrients and the flavor to combine.

If you're feeling super lazy you can just add bunch of vegetables and pasta and whatever to a pot, add water, boil, and it will still be a soup, even if you don't pay attention to how flavours combine and if cooking time is not aligned, this will still turn into something edible if you add salt and you won't be hungry or lacking in nutrients. So if my detailed description sounds intimidating, you can do it in whatever way. Just adding water and heat and salt to vegetables, makes them edible, and you can eat that and be done. It doesn't need to be perfect.

If you want to make a specialized soup, like mushroom soup, tomato soup, pea soup, it's basically the same thing with putting some onions on oil, but then you just add this one thing you want your soup from, like you'll just add tomatoes, garlic and some spices to the onions if you want tomato soup. For mushroom, you just add mushrooms and whatever spice you want, and later you can blend it with together if you want a creamy soup. For peas, you just add peas on top of onions, add water, cook that, smash or blend it to make it creamy. Those are super easy soups, and onions are a base flavor for all of them. And you can even do it without onions and it's fine, they'll still have an okay taste.

Sauces: are very similar to soups, except you add some flour on the oil, mix that to make a roux and then add water to make it thick! You choose whether you want a tomato sauce, mushroom sauce, or whatever else, and you make it a thicker consistency than a soup, and with more concentrated flavor (less water).

Mashed foods: you cook your vegetable in water, cut to any size you want, once the cooking time is over and your vegetable is super soft, you pour the water our (you can reuse it for soups later), add salt, you can add some butter or milk if you like it more creamy, and you mash it with a masher or a fork, until it's all mashed! You can do this with many vegetables, you can make mashed potatoes, pumpkins, zucchini, carrots, peas. You can even mix two veggies, I love mashed potatoes with zucchini mix.

Fried foods: I don't do this a lot, so I am not the best to explain it, but the basics of this is that hot oil cooks the food much quicker, draws out much more flavor, and makes it delicious! It also adds a decent amount of calories so it's great for when you need a lot of energy quickly. I know people like to smash pieces of meat, cut it or grind it into small pieces, then mix it with cut up onion, garlic, spices and herbs, add some flour, and then form it into nice little patties, which they can fry on oil, and it makes for a good sandwich pattie. You can also make this type of pattie out of vegetables, if you mix some cooked beans, soy, lentils, potatoes, cabbage savoy, kale, really anything with some flour, garlic, spices and salt, and form it into a pattie, you can put it on hot oil and make a little burger pattie, or mix it with some mashed potatoes to create a meal.

I'm unable to make detailed instructions for meat as I don't consume it, but I know it's important to cook it thoroughly, and make sure it's never raw in the middle, because it could give you diseases otherwise. I won't go into making bread because this post is already too long, but if you want me to write it out in detail, let me know!

If you want to make more specialized meals, you can find instructions and recipes anywhere, knowing the basics will make it easier to understand any recipe out there. I myself am not good at baking so I won't go into that!

I'm going to write a separate post on cleaning, maintaining space and laundry, because this is already very long and might be overwhelming to read. If anyone wants to write details about non-vegetarian dishes, please do add it in the comments!

[silvernight-m]

Chapter 1 :

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

● Steven Grant x GamerGirl!Reader ● Rating : E

➤ MasterList :

✦ Character AI Bot Based On This Chapter ✦

✦ Marc's Chapter : Coming Soon...

✦ Jake's Chapter : Coming Soon...

─┉┈˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚┈┉─

✦ Summary : You've got your hands on a new video game and been hyperfixating over it. Moonboys aren't taking it well at how they've been neglected.

✦ Tags : Established relationship and reader has moved in with them, Steven's POV, Sad puppy Steven, Marc mentioned and appears only at first (red sentences), Gaming, itty-bitty angst where Steven is a tiny bit smad and feels ignored, He calls reader love/dove/darling, Fluff, Smut

✦ Smut Warnings : SoftDom Steven, Oral Sex f!reader receiving, fingering f!reader receiving, p in v, overstimulation

✦ Word Count : 4,099

➻ Note : This was purely inspired by @melodygatesauthor headcanon on moon boys with a gamer partner.

➻ Note : Comments and Reblogs are appreciated ♡

─┉┈˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚┈┉─

Is she still playing?

Marc's voice brought him back from the trance he was in while watching the flurry of colorful lights coming from the living area in the darkness of the flat.

Steven sighed as he glanced back at the mirror beside bed, seeing Marc trying to peek through at you.

He hummed when he closed his book and turned his attention to Marc. He looked as tired as himself. Unruly curls, dark circles under his eyes and all from waiting for you.

But it's been three hours!

Steven let out another soft frustrated sigh, but this one was meant for Marc. At how he thought he couldn't count the hours that you haven't been in bed. Or the nights that you skipped sleeping till the late hours of dawn.

You still managed to spend time with them, though. With your work and life, you still managed to talk to them, be there for them, love them, and eat with them.

But Steven was getting worried. Marc was sensing it too that this videogame obsession was a bit, odd.

You have been compromising precious sleep time with them ever since you got this new game.

It's been 7 days–

8 days. It's been 8 days.

Steven bristled and side glared at Marc in the mirror. He knew it was past midnight now, so it technically made it 8 days that you were glued to your gaming controller and the tv screen after dinner with them.

He knew it better because he was the one missing you the most!

He thought maybe the first days would be like this. You, playing and enjoying your alone time with the characters you adored. It made his lips pull up into a smile at how you loved this video game. How your voice got high pitched with excitement as you explained some of the plot to him over dinners, without spoiling the game much, of course, in case he wanted to try and play it.

A chuckle even was on its way in his chest as he remembered the way you pouted at some inconvenient things the game developers had done that you thought you'd have done better for your favorite game and its story.

But he was missing you. Missing the time you usually spent in bed. Before sleep.

Sure, you still talked to him. Loved him and cuddled him on the couch or throughout the day after your jobs.

But here he was, his lips puckered out to the cold place beside him on his bed. The place where should have been warm with you and your body, snuggled close to him.

A small wince went through his body as he heard your loud grunt from losing again, probably.

She failed the quest again?

Steven draped his body across the bed, trying to watch your slumped shoulders as his cheek got hit by the cool blanket with his tilted glasses on his face. He nodded to Marc, his curls messing up more as his cheek rubbed against the sheets, his glasses’ hinge pressing into his temple.

But seeing your determined rise of body on the couch as you leaned back, the death grip you had on the controller…

He knew you wouldn't be coming to bed any time sooner.

With a deep breath, Steven decided to get up from the wrongly cool sheets, instinctively dodging the sand line, whereas the floor was long clean from it. Was clean ever since you moved in with him. With them.

He padded closer to you, passing the fish tank with a smile, trying to keep himself hopeful. You would surely return to bed in a short bit. He was sure of it.

But a small frown came over his brows as you didn't even acknowledge him being awake and standing only inches away from the couch and the tv you were glaring at.

“Love?” He didn't like the way you winced at his soft tone when your head whipped towards him.

“What– oh, Steven… I'm sorry! Did I wake you?” Steven glanced at the tv with a push up of his glasses, to the paused menu and returned his gaze back to you with a smile to answer you. “No. Not really.” He held up his book that he was reading earlier, indicating that he wasn't sulking at why you weren’t in bed with him. Because he wouldn't admit that he couldn't sleep without you and from how touch starved he was from having you around but not having you in his arms.

You gave him and his book a tight-lipped smile and turned to the screen again, un-pausing your game. Without noticing that he wanted you in bed and what his pointed look meant.

"S'alright love, I'll be sittin' here, makin' m'self comfortable while readin'." Steven's gaze never left you as he made his way and sat on his reading chair, a little upset that you didn't realize he was awake just because you were awake. Just because he wanted to have more time with you. Did you intentionally ignore what he meant, or were you just so into the game you didn't pick up his intention?

“Okay.” You mumbled absently.

A week. A whole week has been like this.

He was missing you. You were there, sure. Living and breathing near him. In front of the tv, your beautiful face illuminated by lights that danced out of the screen. But you weren't there while gaming!

You just became an entirely different person the moment your hands touched the controller. You were less responsive. Less aware. Less there!

He tried to explain it to Marc. Marc said it was the game you loved so much. The franchise you grew up with. Jake, on the other hand, was even more into letting you follow your slightly unhealthy passion.

But this much obsession was a bit concerning. He couldn't help the going off alarms in his brain. In his heart.

You seemed out of this world while gaming. Like you were in there with the characters.

It wasn't this bad at first. You would come to bed early. Make some comments about the game here and there snuggled up to his chest.

But as the week went on, and the story went on, so did your fixation on that game went on!

It was just your favorite game. Not like you would actually forget him, them, for a videogame, right?

But it was getting frustrating.

The soundtrack coming from the game... the one that indicated you were in danger or enemies were attacking... It was making him nervous!

He could swear that he heard it often times throughout this week that he felt it playing in his brain when he went on missions as Mr. Knight.

And the fact that you weren't touching him! Calming him! Your attention, not on him! Your loving gaze not meeting his eyes while playing!

"Love?" He sighed, his eyes glancing at the clock, which showed 2 AM now. Two in the morning, and you didn't even give him a side glance ever since he sat on the nearby chair.

He was missing the color of your eyes, the twinkle in them when they landed on his own eyes.

A horn went off in the game, and he lost it by yelling out your name. Steven slammed his glasses on the table in frustration at how oblivious you were to his existence while gaming even though you clearly flinched to your name being called. He wasn't even sure if it was because of the war horn, or his firm tone though.

"Steven, why don't you go to bed?!" You asked him, still engrossed in the game that was oh so much more important than him. It saddened him that you said his name only to just dismiss him. To shoo him away and continue playing.

Steven tried to contain himself. It was a game you loved so much, and he wasn't against you having your own hobbies.

But you giggled! You actually giggled at a scene playing on the tv, and it broke his heart. You hadn't giggled or laughed with him while he was sitting there all this time while he even playfully quipped about your gaming.

You didn't give him the shy giggling you usually gave him when he said, “Slaying monsters, love? You are indeed my nocturnal gaming queen.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself, but then he slammed the book shut with frustration. "Fine. It's not like I need affection or attention or love, or anything." He grumbled loudly while getting up. He was so angry with how you've been treating him tonight. Over what? Over a video game!

Not holding him. Not talking to him properly. Not giggling to him. He barely got to even look at your beautiful face while he was fronting tonight.

You were on better terms with Marc and Jake at nights. Probably fearing to upset them with not going to bed with them. But who cared if little Steven got upset, no?

No one cared while his heart broke little by little at how you didn't even hold him and cuddled him under the covers.

He fought the growing tightness in his chest that started to choke him near teary-eyed-ness as he stomped back to the bed. Not just from sadness, though. From frustration. From anger, maybe, too.

"Steven?" You sighed out his name, but he didn't even turn around. He was so mad that he couldn't bring himself to feel giddy once he heard the console beep into being turned off as he wrestled with the duvet and lay his head on the pillows.

Steven didn't let himself even feel happy once you walked closer to the bed. He was feeling guilty. Feeling bad at ruining your game because he was feeling neglected and insecure. Feeling guilty that even your breathing sounded sad as you stood by the bedside, him, being the cause of it.

His back was turned to you, and his eyes were glued to the window. But he could swear he felt you were fiddling with your fingers. He was so angry that he didn't want to look your way and give himself away at how guilty he also felt. But he kept himself in check, not turning to look at you just the way you weren’t looking at him the whole night. "Go back to your game. Don't bother," he barked, squeezing his eyes shut.

Steven tensed up when you got on the bed behind him. His muscles flinched when your arm came around him, and your face pressed into his spine, but eventually he relaxed after a while.

He tried so hard to ignore you.

But he failed. He missed you so much that having this little physical nearness ever since the last 5-ish hours made him turn into mush.

"Don't you have a game to finish?" He tried to sound annoyed. He really did try to get back that sharpness into his tone, but he just sounded like a hurt little kid.

He missed you when you paid attention to him. He missed having you all to him. He missed having you this close.

Gods, he even missed you breathing this much close to him!

Did all the anger and frustration go away when your arm tightened around him, your face gently rubbing into his back as you shook your head no with a soft sniffle?!

Yes, it all went away and made Steven's heart sink as he felt your body trembling against him. He knew, deep within him, that your obsession with the videogame probably had some deeper meaning than just it being your favorite game throughout your childhood. He had to talk to you about it, but he didn't know how to bring it up, and he never thought one day you wouldn't open up to him the way you usually did. And it hurt him even more. "Love, let me hold you..." He whispered quietly, his own throat closing with how he missed having you in his arms in bed.

He played off the sigh of relief with a soft grunt as he turned to face you when you pulled away enough to let him wrap his arms around you.

Steven's eyes were also wet from the tears he was holding back as he watched tears escape yours. "Look, dove, I know somethin's goin' on with you, and that's why you're playin' that game so much." He pulled you into a warm squeeze, "Can we please talk?"

He frowned at how you shook your head 'No' and buried your face in his chest just to hide away your teary cheeks. He let you have a moment in silence before speaking gently again, his hands soothingly rubbing your back. "No, we are goin' to talk about this. I promise, it's goin' to be fine, yeah?" His hand sneaked closer to his chest and held your chin to make you look up at his eyes that were wide with affection. "Let's start slow, yeah, dove?" He wiped the tears off your cheeks and cupped your beautiful face so tenderly. The corner of his lips lifted up on the way your walls melted down just from a sweet hold.

"I'm not good with words." You mumbled with a sniffle that could make him chuckle at how adorable you looked with those puffy lips and tired eyes if you weren’t crying.

"Now, now. Don't play Mahc Spectah for me." Steven chuckled as he wiped your last remnants of tears away when you chuckled at his playful accent, "We have enough brooding in this household." He gently tapped the tip of your nose with his forefinger. "But there will never be a day when we can't talk out our feelings. You and me." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, relishing in the smell of your hair. "I know you have somethin' you're struggling with now, but I can't help you if you don't let me in, love." He mumbled to your skin. "You don't need to find the right words with me. I'm here, and I only want you to let me in."

"Steven..." Your sob shattered his heart as he tried to soothe you, to calm you as he rubbed your back. It was breaking him at the guilt in your eyes. And that was enough for him to forgive you.

"Shhh. I'm right here, okay? Everything's going to be fine." He pulled you so close until your faces were very close and almost touching. "Don't talk. It's fine." He whispered, sharing your warm breath as his nose nuzzled into yours.

He had missed this closeness. He was okay to have you like this even if you took longer to open up. He just wanted you to be near him. To let him in, even if it was physical.

But then he did something that he knew would distract you from whatever that was hurting you or making you sad like this. "I wanna kiss you, love." Steven whispered onto your lips, his voice raspy and playful.

"Even after I was hyperfixating on gaming? Neglecting you?" The strain in your each word squeezed his heart, but Steven couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his lips as his chocolate brown eyes twinkled at you so lovingly with that slight tilt of his head. He couldn't hold his kisses anymore. The first peck started on your lips. He kissed your neck, your cheeks, your forehead, your lips again, your nose, and then your neck again before pulling you in for a deep, passionate kiss even while you were giggling to his kissy assault. "I'll always love you, my dove. Nothing can make me want to kiss and love you any less. So please come back to me instead of goin' into this game every night. I miss you, darlin’.”

“Steven!” You scoffed a chuckle. “It's not like I never made time for you. I just come to bed a lil late.”

“It's 2:30 in the mornin’, love. How is that a bit late?” He held your chin in his thumb and forefinger, gently but firmly trying to reason with you. “You have work in the mornin’. And honestly, I wonder how you've functioned throughout this week between staying up till 4 AM and everything else..”

Steven sighed with you as you pouted sweetly and accepted your defeat. “Fine. I am sorry that I'm staying up late and playing obsessively. But–”

“No buts, love.” He stopped you with a gentle press of his fingers to your mouth.

“But I have no time to play other than nights!” You mumbled into his fingers which tickled him and made him chuckle at how you were trying to negotiate with your pouty lips rubbing onto his hand.

“al’ight. We can work through that. What about we play in the evening?” The cute pinch of your brows in confusion made his heart flutter. “We?” You asked as you scooted closer on the bed to him which meant victory for him as your face lit up and his body tingled from the way your body got pressed to his, your legs now tangled with each other.

“Yes. We.” He confirmed with a nod, your soft cheek under his palm as he caressed it. “I believe it's time I finally see what's so interesting about this game that's keepin’ my girlfriend away from cuddlin’ me before sleep.”

Your little excited squeal made him laugh as you shouted. “Really?! You will play with me?! You're going to absolutely love it! I– YOU WILL LOVE IT! I know you will!” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard and suddenly, stealing his breath.

Within seconds his heart was pounding loudly against his ribcage into your chest. The molten warmth of love spreading from his heart to his whole body through his veins as his hand found the small of your back and pulled you closer to him. He let out a shaky, whimper like breath through parted lips and into your mouth to how your body slotted against his in all the right places.

“I missed you…” Steven's voice came from the depth of his chest and went right through your core as his fingertips slipped under the waistband of your pajama shorts, caressing and teasing your skin, his other arm securely holding your chest pressed to his.

“I didn't even–” Your words of protest died in your throat at how he desperately squeezed you to himself, licking into your mouth just not to let you say anything more, swallowing your soft moan when you felt the hardness of his cock warmly settling between your thighs.

“I missed you, love...” Steven repeated again as your body shivered at how his fingertips firmly dug into the meat of your asscheek and made your hips grind into him. His mouth kissing the skin of your neck and throat. “So much…” He mumbled, trailing down kisses the length of your neck to your collarbone to gently nibble on. “So, so much…” His lips were hot and wet over the top swells of your breasts, his teeth occasionally nipping at them.

A soft groan left Steven's mouth over your cleavage as he didn't know which breast to free first to kiss and suck on, his hand gripping the neckline of your shirt and your bra in one desperate grip to yank them down. To finally be able to show his love to his favorite parts of your body.

“Steven, wait… Let me–” He knew you wanted to properly take off your pajamas, but he couldn’t wait anymore. He was too desperate to have you again. Missed you too much to even allow himself to pull away slightly even for you to take your clothes off. He didn't even remove his hand from your shorts as it brushed against your hip to travel from your ass to your front.

Your moans made him tremble with need when your head fell back onto the pillows. Your hips ground onto his palm, letting your cunt soak his hand just the way it soaked through your panties, making him whimper into your ear as his own hips was grinding onto your thigh and the back of his own hand inside your shorts.

“Steven!” You moaned his name when his fingers teased and rubbed your clit, sending sparks of pleasure up to your vision as he tested your wetness with his finger. “What's gotten into you?!” You barely had time to mumble between the deep kisses when he pulled away suddenly, his hands so fast to yank down your panties and shorts in one go when you squeaked in surprise.

“I just missed you!” Steven's voice was so deep and raspy that even he himself doubted if it was him talking and not Jake when he pulled off your top clothings as well.

“I just,” His chest heaved, his eyes glued to the dripping arousal between your folds as his tongue dragged along his lower lip like it could already taste you. Which got your core pulse for him and your thighs to press together.

“Oh, no no no, love,” Steven's hands were quick to hold your ankles, to firmly press them down to the mattress and spread you to his gaze. “Don't.” He warned firmly, his lips pressing a kiss to the side of your knee, distracting you enough till his hands deftly locked his ankle restraint to your foot. Your eyes widening when he tightened it.

“Steven, now you're just being silly!” You breathed out, still panting from everything that was happening and was going to happen. “It won't even hold– I know how to open it.”

“I know.” The calm undertone in his voice, the mischief glinting in his eyes and the quirk of his smirk over his kiss-swollen lips made you squirm and pull at the restraint unintentionally. “It's not for keepin’ your legs open for me. You're a good girl, love. You'd do that for me on your own, yeah?” He whispered, tugging at the restraint, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your skin again. “This is just a little reminder…” Steven drawled his words lazily, his cheek rubbing your knee, “For you to remember your place…” his hands traveling up your ankle and calf to your thigh, teasingly, lazily and slowly, stopping so close to where you were aching for his touch. “To where you actually belong. In bed. All spread out for me.”

“Steven…” Your whimper made him chuckle, his eyes boring into your pleading eyes before glancing at your cunt that was begging for his attention.

His cock was twitching needily in his sweatpants but he wouldn't give in this easily. He wouldn't let you forget how much he yearned for your attention tonight and you just kept playing.

And that's what Steven was going to do. He would play with you till you begged for him and screamed his name. Till your sweet whimpers and moans chased the jealousy for some pixels on the tv in his heart away.

Just like the way you spent time playing your videogame, he was going to be spending his time playing with you.

His head dipped between your thighs as his tongue played with your folds and licked them so wet and hot while he moaned to your taste. Steven moaned into your core just to make you moan louder to the vibration and clench around his tongue while he rubbed your clit with his fingers, his arm looped around your thigh.

It took all his willpower not to rut against the mattress where his hips pressed into, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as you came on his tongue, writhing, your trembling thighs squeezing his head deeper into you.

He didn't let you move an inch away from his mouth as he licked and kissed and tongued you over and over again even while your fingers gripped his curls firmly, crying out from release after release.

He was so intoxicated with your scent and taste on his nose and tongue that he had forgotten the ache in his own groin for a while when he let you pull his head finally away from your overstimulated and sensitive pussy.

Steven's eyes were full of love for you as he watched your closed eyes, while you tried to catch your breath. There was satisfaction written over his grinning lips as his head moved with the rhythm of your deep panting, his cheek pressed to your naval, his hands kneading and soothing your slightly trembling thighs.

“What round is it?” He panted into your skin as he trailed such tender kisses up to your breasts like he wasn't eating you out like a starved man a few seconds ago, his tongue shoved deep into your hole.

“Hm, huh?” Steven's chuckle came out as an amused breath at the dazed state of you, kissing and licking any inch of skin he found, smearing your release over you just the way his jaw and lips were coated in.

“What round are we in?” His smooches sounded nearer to you as his lips finally took your earlobe between them. “How many times have you come f’ me, love?”

You whine in response to him, your legs trembling again as his fingers trace a delicate caress over your puffy and sensitive clit. “Four? Five?” He cooed into your ear, earning a deep moan when he dragged the tips of his middle finger and ring finger around your entrance, easily going in and out of your slicked channel.

“Five!” You yelled, your breasts pressing up into his chest, your back arched to guide his fingers to that spot inside you that made you see the stars.

“And how many times did you restart that quest tonight?” Steven's grin widened over seeing your confused expression, your brows knotted in pleasure that was inches away from his fingertips. “Your beloved videogame.” He reminded you with a soft press of the heel of his palm over your clit. “How many times did you restart?”

“Shit! Steven!” You cried in frustration into his jawline, making his body tremble to the way your hot breath hit his ear and your walls clenched around his fingers.

“It was seven, love.” The sting of being ignored and watching you restart a quest for seven times surely was dulled in his heart in the meantime after watching you come undone for him five times. It got duller as you screamed his name again when released crashed over your body for the sixth time and wetted his hand and soaked his sweatpants where his thighs were pressed to your quaking form.

“That was…?” His fingers left you after he rode your high, arms quick to pull his cotton-y soft shirt off of himself. The shuffle and drag of fabric over his skin drew your half lidded gaze up his naked body, his smirk bordering on mischievous and adorable as he mouthed ‘sixth’ to your smiling face. “And that means,” Steven crawled on you again, that shit eating, love struck, grin nearing your face as his body settled over yours, his cock hot and hard pressing to the inside of your thigh and smearing his precum over your skin. “You get to come fo’ me one more time.” He mumbled onto your lips, his hands caressing your sides and arms, your body a complete wreck at his mercy one more time.

Your mouth fell open with a deep moan when his thick cock nudged your clit, both your breaths hitching in your throats as he licked into your mouth to let you whimper to the fading taste of yourself in his mouth. His hands were all over your body, caressing you with his sure and firm hands, his skin burning yours from where he was pressed all over you.

With a gentle nudge of his hips, his cock slid so smoothly into you that got you already writhing under him, your hands clawing his back desperately as he started to move in and out of you.

Steven buried his face in the crook of your neck, biting down on your flesh not to lose himself too quickly when his thrusts started to quicken.

Hips stuttering over yours, his hands gripping yours from his buttocks to slam them above your head with a deep moan when you came again. Your walls tightened around him to a point that he only could muffle his whimper in your neck, your thighs shaking around his as he released ropes of cum into you.

Steven stayed like that for a short while, panting and smelling you.

“Oh, love, are you a'right?” With a sudden move he released your hands, rising on his forearms to make sure you haven't crushed under him, his concerned gaze searching your blessed out face.

You huffed a chuckle, wrapping your freed arms around his neck to softly kiss his swollen lips so tenderly that he couldn't believe he was feeling it.

“I'm fine, Steven.” Your voice was a bit hoarse probably from moaning his name all the time which got him smiling so brightly with a nod.

He left a trail of kisses down your forehead and nose to your chin and neck before pulling away gently, not making more of a mess with your juices, settling in next to you.

“How was that, love? Better than that silly game of yours right?” Steven's tone was playfully proud, making sure that he wasn't actually insulting your favorite game. "I made you forget about it."

“Maybeeee…” You muttered as your eyes fluttered close, the last thing you felt were his arms wrapping around you and the soft chuckle in his chest. “Maybe?! Just maybe?!” He squeezed you to himself, gaining a mock annoyed groan that turned into giggling. “Fine! It was so so much better. And yes. You made me forget it.” You mumbled into his chest, getting a grin and a kiss to your forehead that you didn't catch when you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

─┉┈˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚┈┉─

Hope you enjoyed it!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Ready, Aim, Shoot (3)

Hi guys!

This is a little longer that what I was thinking, but it's the last part of the Ready, Aim, Shoot 's serie. Thanks to @holly-wallis for her ideas and advice ♥

Please enjoy ♥

I had to repost it, sorry if you already saw it ♥

TW : Blood, trauma, scare, creepy therapist.

PART 1 | PART 2

______________________________________________________________

Blood. There is blood everywhere. The more you look, the more there is. You look at your shaking hands, cover in red too. You don’t know whose blood is it though. The room you are in is only white, adding to the contrast with the blood color. Breathing quickly, you look around and that’s when you finally see her.

Alexia.

Alexia is on her back in the middle of the room, her body surrounded by red too. Panicking, you kneel next to her, shaking her to try to wake her. But she doesn’t. She stays still in your hand, not moving. Not breathing. This is when you scream.

You scream so much that it wakes you up suddenly. Heavily breathing, you sit on your bed, blindly trying to find the button on your bedside lamp. You finally managed to find it, but when you put the light on, Alexia isn’t next to you in your bed.

It’s only when you left your room to look for her that you remember. She’s not here tonight, she’s sleeping in Tenerife, where she played today. Or yesterday, because it’s actually three in the morning. It’s the first time she leaves you alone for all the night since you came back.

Alexia is not here, but it’s your fault really. You assured her that you will be ok, almost pushing her out of your shared flat. She made you swear to call her if you need her, no matter what time it is. She asked Mapi to come to look for you last night, so you watched the game with the blonde before she went home. You fell asleep quickly actually, you were far to imagine a wake up like that.

You should really call her; she will be disappointed with you if she learns the state of panic you are in without calling her. But you hate the idea to wake her up at this time of the night. She played yesterday, she’s coming home today. She needs to rest.

You find refuge on your couch, putting the TV on. But you can’t forget the picture of Alexia and the blood everywhere. You feel like it’s still on your body, no matter how many times you look at your hands to be sure that you don’t have a little red on you. Thirty minutes after you wake up, you decided to go take a shower.

You pass a long time under it, water burning, washing your body again and again. You ignore the scare that your accident left on your body. You hate them. No matter how many times Alexia kissed them, telling you that you are strong and even more beautiful than before.

You feel guilty as hell when you think about your girlfriend. She is amazing with you, so patient and so loving. You don’t feel like you deserve her. You don’t make any progress with your mental health and it’s disturbing. You even think about breaking up with Alexia one time, disgusting by yourself. She deserves so much more than you. But right after, you had a panic attack, because how can you live without her? She’s your whole world.

You are not even strong enough to make the things right for her.

When the feeling of the hot water and the strength with which you rubbed your skin became too much to handle, you stop the water and get out of the shower. This time your skin is red, but you know why.

You pick a hoodie from Alexia and one of her old Barcelona’s short. If you can’t have your girlfriend’s arms, at least you can have her smell. And, after some hesitation, you even take her pillow to go with you to the couch of your living room. You take snack and watch some stupid things on TV while scrolling on your phone.

You are still tired, but you don’t want to take the risk to fall asleep again. You’re terrified to have this dream again. Every time the images came back in your brain, you try to hug Alexia’s pillow harder. It kind of work, but it has nothing to do with Alexia’s comfort.

You fall asleep after 8 o’clock, after your girlfriend told you that they are boarding and that she will be home soon.

You are still asleep when Alexia comes home. She smiles seeing you laying on the couch, cuddle against her pillow, in her clothes. You are watching YouTube now, from her account, and you choose the playlist where she puts all the games she finds interesting. Only putting her suitcase on the ground, she comes to sit next to you, softly stroking your hair.

“Alexia?” you mumble, opening your eyes with difficulty.

“Hi sleepy head”

Her smile is affectionate, and you get up on one elbow to rub your eyes and have a better look at her. Her hairs are down and she seems fine. She seems happy, maybe to see you? The plan was that she takes a taxi with Jana to come back home, Alexia didn’t want you to drive because some noises sometimes make you jump.

“How are you?” Alexia asks softly.

“Can I have a hug?”

She smiles and passes her arms around you to hug you. But you lay on the couch again, taking her with you on it. She giggles and you smile, forgetting for the first time your nightmare.

“I’m glad you’re here” you whisper after some minutes.

“I’m glad to be back to you too.”

You hum, turning a little to pass a leg around her knees and cuddle tighter against her. She’s stroking your back lovingly, sometimes kissing your head. You started to wonder how much mental pressure you are putting on her when she talks again.

“You remember Marta? From the media team?”

“I think I do” you answer, frowning. “Why?”

“She just left for her maternity leave, and she doesn’t know for now if she will come back.”

“Ok?”

You are still frowning when you look at your girlfriend, not understanding where she wants to go. I mean you are happy that people have baby and all. But what does it make a change for you?

It looks like Alexia’s idea was that you apply for the job. You try to escape that idea, not really happy about the idea of meeting tons of people who will know about your story and look at you with pity in their eyes. But Alexia assures you that it won’t happen, adding that you just can go for the interview without saying yes after.

Long story short, you are now sitting on your desk for your first day.

Your job is basically to find idea of activities to anime the games, a little more marketing than journalism to be honest. But it looks fun and like Alexia said before, when Marta will come back, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.

********

“Hi, I’d like a meeting with the new media manager?”

A voice in front of you make you raise your head, even if you recognize it immediately. Alexia is smirking at you from the door of your office, looking like she just finishes her shower. Which she probably did, given the time.

“I’m sorry, but you have to talk to my assistant first, she will give you my time schedule” you smirk back.

Alexia frown slightly, closing the door behind her before coming for you.

“You have an assistant?”

You know that frown and you roll your eyes while standing up to great her like she deserves it.

“Yes, I have” you answer, letting yourself go against her when she takes you in her arms.

She hums, her lips against your hair, trying to look discreetly in the open office by the window. The gesture makes you chuckle and you raise your head to have a better look at her.

“What? I was just looking to know if you knew her, that’s all.”

“Sure, mi Amor.”

She pouts and you kiss it better, just to see the smile she has right after. You weren’t really happy to start to work again to be honest, but you have to admit that it’s a good thing for you to keep your head busy with something. Alexia was right, once again.

“Are you ready to leave? I’m taking you home.”

“I am.”

You take your stuff with you, before letting Alexia passes her arm around your waist to take you with her. You don’t know if it’s only the jealousy talking right now, but you have to admit that she is way more openly affective with you since your accident. Not that you have a problem with it, obviously. But the way her gaze is scanning the room when you left after saying goodbye to your colleagues, it makes you think that there is at least a little part of jealousy in it.

Which is totally stupid, you only see her.

“You seems happier” Alexia says cautiously over her plate that night.

You look at her for some seconds before nodding. You are, but you are scared to mention it in case that it makes your nightmares coming back.

“I am. Thanks to you” you smile softly.

“Are you really? Or are you hiding something from me like when I was away for the game to Tenerife?”

You blush and almost chock on your tomato, but you somehow are able to keep some dignity. You don’t take the time to try to deny her statement though, you know that she knows. Of course she does. She reads you like an open book. Alexia has the decency to not point anything else, waiting patiently for your answer.

“I really am better. You were right, I really needed to get out from here even if it was difficult at first. It’s great to have something to do, not that cooking for you wasn’t entertaining. But going out… It’s great.”

She nods softly, without leaving your face with her eyes. You know immediately that there is something else in her mind, but you don’t push, letting her carry the conversation.

“Do you think I was too suffocating with you? Maybe if I…”

“No!” you cut her after some seconds of incredulity. “Alexia how could you…? Are you joking? You are the reason that I’m still here and mentally good. You are the reason that I keep fighting to be fine again. I couldn’t have done it without you. I forbid you to think of anything like that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s some insecurities and I shouldn’t have told you that” she frowns again, playing with her forks and some pasta left in her plate.

“Alexia, don’t please.”

She looks at you again when you stand up, just to come sit on her lap. She welcomes you by taking you close against her with her arms. You pass your arms around your neck, one of your fingers playing with the baby hair on her neck.

“You are so perfect to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to thank you enough one day for it. You were always right and done nothing wrong all those days. A lot of people would have abandoned, but you are still here with me.”

“I’ll never abandon you” she mumbles, looking right into your eyes.

You can see how much she means those worlds and you have to take all your strength not to start crying like a baby. You’re pretty sure that your eyes are shining from tears but you busy yourself by stroking her cheek tenderly.

“You said one time that my come back is a miracle, do you remember? Well, you are my miracle.” you add, after she nods.

She kisses you and the way she did makes your head turned. She only let you breath for several seconds when you need air, before kissing you again with even more intensity. You had sex again after some weeks of rehab from your part, but not like you did before your departure. And it’s hard to see Alexia restrain her gestures, scared as hell to hurt you. Tonight though, you feel like that maybe it will come back.

********

It came back.

You are laying on your bed, lovingly enveloped in your girlfriend’s arms. Her skin is so soft against yours, your face hiding in her neck. You are lull by Alexia’s deep and slow breathing and you are starting to wonder if she’s falling asleep when she talks quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. Safe. Warm.”

“Perfect” Alexia sighs softly, moving a little to be more comfortable on the mattress.

You look up at her, admiring the shape of her jaw, her perfect nose, her beautiful eyes, and her so kissable lips.

“What?” she asks when she sees you staring.

“Nothing” you giggle. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes before closing them, tightening you harder against her. You don’t need anything than her body to keep you warm and you love it.

“Would you be angry if I stopped working there?”

The sudden question makes her open her eyes again to look at you. She seems to be thinking for several seconds before answering.

“Of course not. Why do you want to stop anyway? Is someone nasty with you?”

“Not at all” you deny, already imagine her hunting the person who would do that to you. “I was thinking that… maybe I could finish one of my book projects?”

“You mean one of your thousand amazing scenario who are desperately waiting on your computer?”

“Exactly that” you answer, rolling your eyes.

She teased you way to much about it already.

“If it’s what you want, of course I’ll support you. But what about going out to meet people?”

You see the worried already and you answer, kissing her cheek.

“I’ll go write into a Café or something. Maybe seeing people, crowd and streets will help me to get idea.”

********

That’s exactly what you did, after finishing your job with the media. The first days, you weren’t really effective, more focused on what’s going on around you and which story you want to choose. After some debate with yourself and help asking to your mother and Alexia, you choose to mix two stories and start writing again. It made you start from the beginning, but it’s maybe better like this.

You still get to your psychiatrist to your session twice a week, always a little more scared to go without Alexia. Your psychiatrist told both of you that it could be good for you to come without your girlfriend. Alexia accepted immediately, always being interested in everything that can make you feel better. So on Mondays would go without Alexia and on Fridays you go with her.

You always have a strange feeling without Alexia’s halo, and it’s only happened when you come here. You don’t have trouble to go grocery shopping without Alexia or go to the Café to write.

It’s particularly hard to come today, you talked to Alexia by the phone before your appointment to ease your stress. She seems to realize that something is wrong, because she talks a lot about her day. She only does that to change your mind, and you love her for that.

“Good Morning, Y/N.” your therapist greats you.

You great her back and start talking about your new occupation, your activities since the last time and the travel Alexia proposed to you last night. It was something you can’t stop to think about since she mentioned it, eager to go away for some days in the sun with the woman you love.

“Don’t you think it will be too soon?” the doctor asks sceptically, only looking at her notepad.

You are taken aback. You would never have thought that she can be thinking that it’s a bad idea. She never stops to tell you to go ahead and try new things since the beginning.

“Taking a plane, going to an airport, in a place that might remind you of your trauma? What would you do if you have one of your panic attacks there?”

You don’t know what to answer to that. Alexia mentioned Canary Islands and a private hotel with a private beach, which seems far away from the Middle East.

“No, I mean… I’m going better now. And I’ll be with Ale. Everything will be ok.”

She looks at you this time, raising an eyebrow. Her look is sharp, almost mean and you have trouble swallow your saliva. You feel like a schoolgirl getting bullied by her teacher.

“Don’t you think you already lean too much on the poor girl? Maybe she suggests the holidays to have some rest, are you sure she wants you to go with her?”

You don’t really remember the end of the appointment, but it keeps getting worse. And you don’t know how you managed to find yourself in the Barcelona’s facilities either after it. You can’t think straight anymore, it’s like this woman knew all your insecurities and tell you that you are right to have them. One after the other.

What if she’s right? What if Alexia can’t stand your presence, your toxics dreams and mental health? You already knew that you weren’t good enough for her and that she deserved better. You can’t believe that you let her makes you believe that she can love you. How can she? How can anyone?

You were turning around to go home when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N?”

You recognize Mariona through your tears, but you can’t say anything. She doesn’t seem to mind though, carefully taking your arm in her hand.

“What are you doing here? Are you looking for Alexia?”

You try to scream at her to let Alexia alone and not to get you to her, but you can’t. When you don’t say a word, Mariona decides to take you to Alexia. Luckily the Majorcan woman came late today and she knows exactly where to find your girlfriend.

You let Mariona drags you around, hearing her soothing voice without being able to understand what she’s saying. Sweets, encouraging words, for sur. You can’t figure out really what happens next, but after several minutes of walk, you hear Mariona calling your girlfriend’s name. And more seconds after, you are surrounded by her arms, her perfume, everything that is her.

Everything that you don’t deserve.

When Alexia realizes that she’s facing a wall and that you won’t say a word, she takes you home. You are like anesthetized at this point, letting her do what she wants with you. It’s only when you are laying on the bed you retake some reality and stare at Alexia who seems to be choosing clothes to put on you after taking a shower.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

The words were lifeless, but you see Alexia froze. She turns in your direction, with eyes wide and the most chocked face ever.

“What?”

“I’m breaking up with you” you repeat, looking at her straight in her eyes.

A silence pass and you see Alexia watching at you, probably waiting for you to say something else. Maybe to explain yourself, but you don’t say another word. Plus, the reasons are obvious, no?

“Are you- don’t you love me anymore?”

She seems broken. That doesn’t make any sense, she is supposed to be relieved, not sad. You don’t understand her reaction, so you shrug before answering.

“That’s not the point, Alexia. You are free. I’m giving you your liberty back.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk? Did someone give you something to you?”

She seems angry now, almost shouting with her eyebrows frown. You frown too, because why the hell won’t she understand? You sit in the bed while she’s still standing in front of you.

“No! I just… Why won’t you…”

Why is your brain suddenly transformed in pudding?

You look at Alexia when she comes to you and takes your face between her hands. She does it with so much care that you want to cry again.

“Why don’t you let me break up with you?” you whisper.

“Because I love you. I told you; I’ll fight for us every day if I have to.”

There we are, you are crying again. But this time Alexia is here, she can take you against her, rock you will you cry and whispers sweets nothing in your ears. She waits for your sobbing to stop, holding you tightly. Only when you can breathe normally again, she speaks.

“What happened?” she asks softly.

You don’t know really where to start, so you just shake your head without answering anything. But she waits, again and again. So, after some minutes, you talk too.

“I just want you to be happy. I know you’ll be happier without me.”

“You are wrong.”

Her voice is gentle, but as the same time strong enough to let you know that you don’t have to try to deny it. It’s her truth and that’s enough.

“Well you need to take some time apart from me so it’s not –“

“Where the hell does that idea comes from?”

She’s lost. You were good when you end up your call some hours later. Stressed but good. And then you appeared crying during her training, only to say her when you come home that you want to break up with her. But you frown again, lost too. And tired, to be honest.

“My therapist said that I’m leaning on you too much. And that’s way you wanted to go on holidays without me.”

You explain that like it’s the more logical thing in the world, but for Alexia it doesn’t make any sense. She starts to understand where it comes from however, even if she doesn’t understand why.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, what the point to have holidays if you’re not with me?” she answers, looking right into your eyes. “Did your therapist say other things?”

You nod and start to explain everything happened and everything she told you. The more you talk, the more Alexia seems to be furious. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes are literally throwing lightning and she so tense that you are really concerned that she can have a cramp somewhere. But when she talks to you again, her voice is infinitively soft.

“Nothing of that is true. I love you. I will do everything to help you to make you feel better. I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You look at her, almost desperately. But she has the same gaze that she has when says things like this. Her eyes are soft, caring and so loving that you can’t do otherwise than believe her.

“I don’t feel like I’m better, Ale” you whisper. “I don’t think I will be one day.”

“You are. You are working, you are getting out, you are smiling again. It’s ok to have bad days, like everyone else. Yours are a little more complicated because you had to go through horrible things. But you have the right to not feel good or needing help a little more some days. And what she said was wrong.”

You are lost, honestly. Alexia can see that you are coming back at yourself again though. Like if you are waking up. You seem always a little desperate and she takes you carefully against her. You let her, sighing of relief when you find the comfort of her arms.

“What if she’s right and you haven’t realized for now?”

“She’s wrong. And she will know it.”

You don’t question what she was implying, too tired to realize what her words may imply. You let Alexia taking you in a bath and more generally taking care of you. You look at her through the mirror when she does your hair.

“When I get better, it will be me who will take care of you” you inform her.

She smiles and finish to undo a knot in your hair before answering, looking at you through the mirror too.

“Okay Cariño.”

She’s smiling but doesn’t seem to make fun of you. You relax, letting your shoulder go down a little bit. That’s mean that she really believes that you will be better.

********

Alexia keeps her promise, going to your therapist’s office in the early hours to talk to her. You don’t know what she told her, but now you don’t have to go to your appointments, and you even have a new psychiatrist, advised by someone from Alexia’s staff.

Rumour has it that Alexia’s shouts still resonate in the psychiatrist’s office.

You don’t know if it’s your breakdown of the change of therapist, but some days after this episode, you feel better than ever. You wake up with your head and your body feeling lighter and Alexia is surprised to see you coming in the kitchen when she’s taking her breakfast. Usually, you stay way longer in bed.

“Is everything alright?” she asks nervously.

You nod, rubbing your eyes before coming behind her to pass your arms around her waist.

“Just wanted to be with you a little bit before you leave.”

Alexia hums when you kiss her neck. You can feel a gaze studying you while you are making yourself coffee, before coming to sit next to her.

“Are you sure that you’re ok Cari?” she asks, almost shyly while you stole a strawberry from her bowl.

“I’m sure baby” you smile at her.

Alexia is looking at you suspiciously during several seconds. She red things about people being “high” before getting down and of course she is scared. But you seem really good today and she can’t help but smile when you kiss her cheek.

“Uhu” she said, taping her lips with expectation.

You giggle but kiss her anyway, smiling against her lips. You are still smiling when she strokes your cheek with her fingertips and when she puts her forehead against yours.

“I love you so much” she whispers before kissing you again.

“I love you more” you smiles.

Alexia does no with her head and put a finger on your mouth when you want to talk again.

 “Would you like to come with me to training today?”

You hesitate for several seconds before answering. It’s been a while since you came to see Alexia in training. You can’t remember who you saw some days before, only Mariona. But you hope that they weren’t a lot.

“You can say no if you don’t want to.” Alexia adds after seeing you hesitate.

“No, I want to come. But… Who were here, the other day? You know…”

“Only Mariona. And I’m sure that she doesn’t say anything to anyone.”

You are relieved to learn that, even if you don’t know how Alexia can know.

“Did you treat her?” you smirk.

“No” Alexia laughs. “I know the girl, she’s one of the most loyal, sweet and discreet that I’ve ever met.”

She was right. Mariona didn’t told anyone about what happened and after several minutes you realize that Alexia was right once again. You hug the Majorcan woman a little longer than Alexia’s other teammates when you met them, silently thanking her. She seems to understand because she smiles at you before taping your cheek affectionately.

And today, as you watch Alexia training and laughing on the pitch with the teammates that she considered like her family, you’re starting to have hope again. Alexia was right every time, so maybe she will be right this time again. You will be better.

[saerins]

#001 SUDDENLY, COLORS 𖧧 NEXT: #002 PLAYING DOMINO ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — sae gets more than he bargained for when he decides to entertain you. and then suddenly, maybe he isn’t so indifferent to everything after all.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. bllk guys here are all pro players now. profanity, complicated relationships, reader is a working adult, implied ex-fwb situation with otoya, minorly questionable work ethics, mention of infidelity. word count: 3.8k.

༝༚༝༚ first chapter ! (bear with me because we’re gonna be in the early stages of sae & y/n getting to know each other) i hope you guys like this one as much as infy >_< the dynamic between yn & sae here is slightly different heh :) if you’re reading this: ily <3 + will add little mini extra facts at the end of each chapter ^_^

lights flashing, red carpets, familiar faces that feel so out of reach.

there’s an entire life out here that people like you, should you have been without connections, won’t get to experience in your lifetime. it’s eye-opening, and more than you bargained for. sure, when you heard that this is a party thrown by one of the japan’s national soccer team’s sponsors, you expected a lot of a-list names, but to think it’s this many.

beautiful, handsome people litter every corner of the destination, enough to fill anyone with a year’s worth of anxieties just simply looking at them. to think, this is the kind of life they live in the regular; photographed by everyone, welcomed and greeted like royalty by staff and strangers alike.

it’s nothing you can ever get used to. luckily, you don’t have to.

you stand at the top of the stairs in the venue, looking around as you try to spot your friend. on the ground floor, you see many people huddled in different groups, smiles plastered together as they catch up with one another. all you can hear are everyone’s voice and laughters muffled together and melding into one giant mess. many movie stars, models, athletes all gathered in one place, commanding the attention of everyone in the room as well as those who are watching the livestreams from home. that’s to be expected though, considering this is a party thrown by the top sports brand in japan—surely supporters and fans alike are tuning in from all over just to see their favourite celebrities.

you bet the chat is getting blown up with comments about how the captain of the soccer team looks absolutely handsome when he cleans up, or how the up and coming setter in the volleyball team is a quiet assassin if looks could kill.

there’s a vibration in your purse, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you fish your phone out to see that it’s from eita.

you slowly make your way down the stairs, carefully so that you don’t accidentally catch your heels against the bright red fabric under you. it’s not everyday you get invited to events like this, and it’s certainly not everyday you get to wear something this nice—you don’t want to end up falling face flat in front of all these important (and famous, or infamous) people.

you make a mental note to yourself to thank eita again for getting you this dress.

as you look around the floor, trying to spot whatever private booth eita’s in, your eyes flick across the top of someone’s head. somebody that could catch anyone’s attention. those alluring eyes and that tall frame. you catch your breath.

eita can wait. maybe you should take a detour first.

as you’re drawing closer to him, you can’t help but think how much more handsome he is in person; all you’d been able to see of him thus far is whatever you saw through the screen, or in paper from the photoshoots he’d been a part of. now that you’re looking at him in the flesh, you don’t think they do him justice. not by a long shot. he’s still handsome as hell in whichever form of media he’s in, but in real life, they have nothing on his actual person.

his lips look soft and pink right there in front of you, and his lashes frame his eyes just perfectly that you’re almost envious.

in all fairness, you’re not used to talking to mega huge celebrities like him. he’s a pro-athlete, but his popularity is in the millions, his talent for being japan’s best offensive midfielder skyrocketing him to fame at the young age of eighteen.

nearly ten years later and he’s somehow still topping the lists for most popular male athletes from japan.

opportunities like this don’t come easy, especially for people like you—you’re not stupid enough to not take it. with a deep breath, you put your game face on; he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t have to know the real you, just the you that you want to show him.

somehow, he manages to make your heart beat faster than anyone else in the room, and he hasn’t even looked your way. half of you is telling yourself you’re doing this for a friend, but the other half of you is selfish, it wants to see what this is all about.

“what are you having?”

the moment you set your purse down on the bar, choosing to stand beside him instead of being a normal person and settling in front of the bartender to get his attention for your drinks, sae finds himself perplexed.

there are many reasons people would want to talk to him for. if you’re from the sponsor’s team, then you’d want to run a collaboration idea by him. if you’re another celebrity, then you’d probably be asking for a picture. if you’re press, well, your occupation is an answer in and of itself.

for the first time, sae’s eyes land on you. on that smile, on your eyes.

dim lights, violets and pinks bouncing off the disco ball, and somehow you do look pretty in spite all that. he’s never seen you before, but then again, he doesn’t pay attention enough to anything in the media for him to be able to know all the celebrities in japan. you have to be one, right? he doesn’t see the press card around your neck.

your dress hugs your body nicely. it’s all black, and a one-shoulder. your thin gold necklace holds a feather charm at the end. the way you tuck your hair carefully behind your ear unveils your matching earrings. you’re pretty, very pretty. but he thinks you’re about to be a pain soon enough. and that probably cancels it out.

“water.”

maybe if he’s boring enough, you’ll leave him alone. maybe if he’s rude enough, he’ll drive you away. that’s the whole point of why he’s here anyway, to escape those pointless conversations with these media… acquaintances, and oliver and the others were being nuisances in the booth anyway. so much so that he needed a breather.

unless you’re offering an escape, he won’t entertain anything.

“do you have a game tomorrow?” you ask, setting your phone down on the tabletop. a measly excuse for a conversation starter but he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to see where you’re going with this.

is that why you think he’s drinking water? he shakes his head, “no.”

what do you want with him?

“don’t tell me you’re a lightweight,” you guess, smirking at him.

sae can’t figure you out; where other people are easy to guess, he can’t make heads or tails about you. why hasn’t he asked you to leave him alone yet? better yet, why hasn’t his own two feet walked away like he intended to before you came and smiled at him?

“just didn’t feel like drinking,” sae tells you. (you actually guessed right, but there’s no way he’s going to admit to that out of the blue.)

you hum in contemplation, your head resting against your balled fist as you look at him, pursing your lips like you’re thinking of something. he finds himself wondering exactly that: what the fuck are you thinking?

right now, you’re a mix between being interesting and annoying and he’s kind of leaning towards the latter.

all of a sudden, you fish a coin out of your purse, grinning.

“you look like you want me to leave you alone,” you tell him, sighing, though you’re probably not so much disappointed or affected as much as being playful, like one of those children that like to test the limits of their parents. you’re perceptive at least, he’ll give you that. “how about a deal? i’ll toss this coin, and if it lands on heads, you’ll do me a favour, no questions asked. if it lands on tails, i’ll do the same. then you can tell me to go away.” 

to be fair, sae could just walk away and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

“fine.”

so why? why is he agreeing to your terms?

you flick the coin into the air with your thumb, and sae watches your face as you anticipate the results. you’re staring so intently at such an inconsequential coin that he finds it both comical and troublesome. there’s something both alluring and childish about your presence.

“aha! heads!” you shout excitedly, and sae tries to keep his head down to avoid any unwanted attention. if you cause anyone to come over and pull him aside for some small talk he’s going to kill you. you look so blissfully ignorant of that fact, though. lucky for him, almost everyone around you seems too self-absorbed to care. “looks like you owe me something.”

sae sighs. “i have the feeling i’m gonna regret this,” he mumbles to himself, though you’re blatantly beaming at him, excited at your little win. you shouldn’t be; if it’s too troublesome sae would still shoot you down. he reminds himself that he doesn’t even have to follow through with the bet—who are you to him? “what do you want?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you answer, not missing a beat, ordering a shot of vodka and having it slid over to you. you down it in a second, looking even more invigorated.

does alcohol wake you up even more?

something tells sae that he’ll get nothing out of this conversation, so the gears are already turning in his head on how to slip out of this situation, make a break for the bathroom or something. “this sounds like a hassle, so i’m just gonna leave—”

“is soccer all you care about?”

“huh?”

yeah, you’re definitely leaning more towards annoying.

as he expected, you continue speaking without even listening to him. still, that’s not the kind of topic he thought you had in mind. soccer? you don’t seem like a fanatic.

“i mean, do you do anything else outside of soccer? like play games? or, i don’t know, have some secret hobby like sewing?”

sae deadpans at that last one. what do you want to know? his secrets? he’ll definitely stick with his plan of being boring. you’ll probably give up sooner or later. “no. just soccer.”

you press your lips into a firm line, like you know he’s full of it but you don’t immediately call him out. “no hobbies outside of soccer? okay.”

“yes, i have no life.”

he nearly smirks at the horrified pout that graces your lips. your scepticism nearly makes him laugh, but he holds it in. you’re probably messing with him, but he can do just the same.

“heard that your little brother scored the winning goal at the champion’s league game, how do you feel about that?” you down another shot.

sae snorts at your obvious discontent at his disinterest, though it goes over your head because maybe you’re a little lightweight too.

“yeah, i was there. i mean, i’m proud of him if that’s what you’re looking for,” he tells you—something so generic and so bland that you can probably form the answers in your head yourself.

your line of questioning continues despite sae’s half-assed participation. maybe he’s only entertaining you because he doesn’t feel like entertaining anyone else. and maybe because he probably won’t see you again so he wouldn’t feel the need to be cautiously polite around you (and so his manager won’t nag him about keeping up an image). from what he gathers, you’re probably not a celebrity—call it his gut instinct. you sure look like one, but you don’t act like them.

there’s the incessant vibrating of his phone in his pants pocket that he ignores. meanwhile you’re accepting his lacklustre answers left and right.

“actually i’m curious, itoshi sae, who’s your best friend? some say it’s ryusei shidou and others say it’s oliver aiku. what do you say?”

he leans an elbow against the table, staring you straight in the eye. you’re looking right back at him, a smugness in those irises.

“who are you, by the way?” he asks, because despite him entertaining you for—he checks his watch—nearly half an hour, he still doesn’t even know your name. and clearly, you know all about him. or at least, what the internet can provide.

you inch closer, grinning despite the scowl on his face. “let me change the question,” you propose, because you’re always so adept at switching subjects when it benefits you, pupils scanning your immediate surroundings briefly before you lean in to whisper in his ear. “people like to say you’re hard to get, is that true?”

(because that’s what it seems like—from press coverage to girls, it doesn’t look like it’s easy to garner his interest and thus consequently his effort. if there’s one thing everyone can agree on about itoshi sae is that he screams exclusivity.)

he clenches his jaw when he feels your breath hit his ear, and he hates himself for staying this long because the moment you see his ears go red, you’re smirking.

“is there anything wrong with not wanting to waste time with people who won’t matter in a matter of days?” and that’s probably the only completely honest answer he’s given you for the night—because he doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t see making it into his future. he can’t say that for work purposes since it’s his team who manages everything, but as far as his personal life goes, that’s all you have to know.

that’s all he’s going to give you.

from the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar face, the light in their eyes going dark when they realise you’d been taking up his time.

“heading off already?” you ask, sensing his restlessness.

“yeah, well, i gave you a lot already, so…” he trails off, just hoping you’ll get the hint and leave him be.

you nod, taking your phone off the table, fishing something else out of your purse but sae’s too preoccupied looking at someone else to notice.

and just like earlier, you inch even closer, finally commanding his attention. sae catches a whiff of your perfume, a hint of sweet mixed with a little spice. you’re so close now that all he sees is you, and for some reason, he’s not moving.

you’re so close he can count the lashes on your eyes, can tell your lipstick’s not really pink but more mauve, can see up close that ever-growing smirk of yours when you catch him off-guard. and he expects you to stop, just like you did earlier, but you’re coming even closer and for some reason he can’t help but close his eyes, long lashes briefly brushing your face before he feels it go away.

when he opens his eyes, you’re not smirking anymore. that playful smirk is gone and replaced by—he can’t really tell—bashfulness? is he hallucinating the heat that built up to your cheeks?

“thanks for wasting some time on me,” you whisper, slipping something into his jacket pocket before walking away, a wave of your fingers all that you give.

and sae’s left wondering if he really was just about to let you kiss him if you didn’t move away.

he watches as you head off in the direction of the booths, a surprise washing over his face when he sees a familiar face taking your hand at the top of the first flight of stairs. that head of white with a hint of green—you know otoya?

sae takes out the piece of paper you slipped in his pocket—a name card. your name is y/n, apparently, and you work for a magazine. he scoffs, realising the intentions behind your earlier attempt to get him to talk. behind, you’d scribbled really quickly: the favour: approve this interview please? :D

you really are… something. by the way you questioned him, and your questions by itself, you must not have done this for very long. it’s a nice attempt though. still, sae has no reason to play along.

he can’t help but wonder, though—that last question: was it for the magazine, or your personal curiosity? his eyes linger on the phone number at the bottom of your card.

“hey, who was that?”

sae turns his attention to the girl he saw earlier, now in front of him, curious eyes following you as otoya walks you to their table. he quickly slips the name card back into his pocket. “dunno, she was just asking where otoya was.”

as the girl drags him away by the hand, he looks back, catching a glimpse of you staring at him before otoya guides you to the table, his hand on the small of your back, and then you fade out of view.

maybe, just for once, he’ll play along. again. because there’s something inexplicable about you, about your existence.

“look who made it back in one piece,” oliver exclaims as sae makes his way back to their table a couple of hours later, taking a seat next to the man himself. “what did bianca want you for this time?”

shidou puts down his glass of champagne to wince at sae, a pitiful glance thrown his way. “she's kinda territorial, bro. blink if you need help.”

snickers are heard around the table, most of them knowing how exasperated sae can get sometimes, even if he never actually says anything.

“you know if you guys are dating, you can just tell us right?” karasu teases, joining in the conversation.

sae rolls his eyes, ignoring them entirely. the topic about him and bianca had gone completely stale for him. honestly, if his manager didn’t convince him that he absolutely had to attend till the end, sae would’ve left halfway. maybe he wouldn’t have attended at all if he had a choice in his own schedule. then again, if he didn’t come tonight, he wouldn’t have met you.

is that a good thing?

speaking of, there’s a lack of your presence here that just mildly disappoints him. mildly.

“where’s your friend?” sae asks otoya, who’s busy typing away at his phone.

his fingers stop, and he cocks a brow at sae’s question, more confused by the fact that sae is bothering to ask such a thing. “she had a thing so she left earlier,” he says, brushing it off. “why? did you need anything? saw her talking to you just now.”

it’s like they both can sense the sudden interest of everyone around the table.

sae shakes his head, leaning back against the chair. “nothing.”

sensing something amiss, oliver leans forward, looking the most interested he’s been all night. “oh? sae of all people asking about a girl? don’t see that often,” he mocks, and sae sighs internally, immediately regretting opening his mouth.

“gotta hand it to you, though,” karasu says, nudging otoya on the elbow. “she’s pretty.”

“isn’t she that girl you said that slapped you so hard back in high school that you cried?” yukimiya joins in, his statement making the guys burst into laughter.

otoya groans, shrinking in his seat. “shut the fuck up. she was being annoying.”

“nah, she was just keeping eita in check after she heard he cheated on his girlfriend,” karasu fills in the gaps for everyone.

sae listens quietly to them divulge bits and pieces of you that they got from otoya back when you were still there with them.

apparently, you’ve known otoya since middle school, and you’ve been friends all the way till university until you drifted apart for some reason (that otoya won’t share). sae thinks it probably has to do with that “we used to fool around” statement of his. at least, unlike any of the girls he fools around with, otoya never entertained lewd questions regarding you.

were you special to him?

“tell us more,” yukimiya taunts, fully enjoying the tinge of red he sees on otoya’s ears.

“she’s just a girl who likes to clear out my fridge all the time. annoying pest i can’t get rid of,” otoya says, though everyone knows that it’s just his sharp tongue at work. he looks like he’s close to malfunctioning, a sight that sae has never seen before, fully earning his intrigue.

thankfully for otoya, oliver shifts the attention (unfortunately) to sae. “no, what i wanna know is, how a girl like y/n managed to catch this guy’s interest,” he says, pointing to sae, a cocky grin on his face. “so spill, are you interested?”

that must mean that you and otoya have nothing going on then? not that he’s curious. and not that he would put it past oliver to suggest that he steal you from someone else.

he’s not even sure why all these thoughts are in his head in the first place. sae puts on his best poker face, raising his brows as if in silent denial. “i’m not.”

oliver’s grin mirrors that of the cheshire cat, and it’s all sae has to see to know that he’s about to suggest something that will earn a ripple in the timeline.

“otoya, phone,” oliver demands, and otoya nonchalantly slides his phone over. a quick few taps of his fingers and he finds your public profile before sliding otoya’s phone over to sae. “there, follow her then, if it’s nothing.”

despite seemingly doing this all for fun, oliver is betting on much more than that. if he gets to see what the whole big deal is, why not? on the one hand, otoya is refusing to say anything about his real feelings about you. on the other, sae is refusing as well to admit that maybe he’s a little bit charmed by you.

sure, asking sae to follow you is like sending a whole army of girls chasing after a baby with a very prized candy but oliver barely knows you, so it’s fair game where he stands. besides, he’s not forcing sae to do it. he just knows he will—sae never bothers showing interest in anything, let alone a woman. he’s not following any girls either apart from other celebrities, and that’s because they cornered him to it. if he does this, you’re the only comparatively normal girl he’ll follow. sae might not be aware of the implications and whatnot, but oliver sure does. it’ll take a while for it to show, but he’ll wait patiently.

the only reason otoya hasn’t been subjected to that same problem for following you is because his popularity doesn’t come close to sae’s. not even oliver’s comes close. neither are their fans as rabid as his.

and when sae scoffs and takes out his phone to do just what oliver expects him to, oliver’s eyes flick over to look at otoya, a certain unsettled look in his friend’s eyes. neither guys are ever straightforward with their feelings—he leans back and relaxes, waiting for a show.

whoever you are, y/n, whatever you have going on, good luck to you.

extras !

sae and bianca go way back, but so do y/n and eita! the latter more so than the former.

this is y/n’s first time ever attending an event like this in her x years of knowing eita.

sae’s group of friends consist of: oliver, otoya, shidou, karasu, yukimiya and sendou. (sendou has a conflicting schedule so he wasn’t there that night.)

taglist! @yuzurins @raphsimp @mxplesyrvp @lust4rin @saeskiss