#SLAMMING MY HEAD ON THE TABLE VIOLENTLY I like them a normal amount .

[unluckyprime]

aquarium date 🫧🐟♥️

[jessikahathaway]

Baby Talk - Part II

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Profanity, medical procedures, pining (Like a stupid amount but what can ya do), Joon and Jin get protective, mentions of pregnancy symptoms. (If I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 10.5k (I guess I'm committing to long chapters lol)

You’d hit the four week mark, and not much had happened yet.

Despite you feeling like your hormones were on a swing.

Jimin was bewildered when he came into the bathroom to find you crying on the floor. Trying to comfort you went downhill quickly because soon you were mad that he was joking around. Then you were crying again, apologizing for being so harsh.

Up and down and up and down.

But they never got mad at you. Never yelled at you and never ignored you. But you forced your emotions down deep into your heart. A place that would be locked and the key thrown away. Because you knew what was happening, and it simply couldn’t happen.

It was late and you could feel your stomach begging for something to eat. You’d gotten really hungry lately, no doubt your body trying to accommodate for the new life you were growing inside of you.

So, you hurried to the kitchen under the guise of night and made some rice and a little bit of stir fry. You put together everything, making sure not to make too much, and started cooking.

It was around three in the morning when you sat down at the table and ate your food, looking through your phone with a bored expression. Nothing interesting on social media and YouTube videos were only entertaining for so long. So, you ate your food and cleaned up before starting to head back towards your room.

Then, a large flash went off in the sky, causing you to jolt and look out into the city. Rain was pelting against the window, sounding sharp to your ears. It was a little intimidating.

Then the loud crash of thunder rang through the house.

You yelped at the noise, covering your ears in fear. You’d never particularly liked thunderstorms, but this one was coming in hot and aggressive. You pulled your hands away from your ears, just trying to focus on getting back to your room when another flash lit up the room. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you started to sweat.

Before you could think too much about it you were knocking on Jungkook and Jimin’s door. Another crash of thunder roared through the house and you swear you felt the floor shake. You whimpered in fear and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Did they hear you? Or was the storm too loud? Should you go in? What if they weren’t decent?

Jimin had said you could go in if something was wrong...

But did being scared of a thunderstorm count?

FLASH.

BANG.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you burst through the door with tears in your eyes. Fear causing you to shake violently.

Jimin and Jungkook both bolted up in bed at the sound of the door slamming open, and were out of bed instantly at the sight of you shaking on the floor.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Jungkook’s worried voice echoed in your ear.

“She’s trembling,” Jimin said, rubbing your back.

“I-I I’m sc-”

FLASH.

BANG.

You cried and flung your arms around Jungkook’s neck, burying your face in his chest, tears streaming down your face as you shook violently. Jungkook looked at Jimin in shock and a little bit of his own fear, but Jimin just took his hand and placed it on your head.

‘Comfort her,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook nodded before rubbing your hip soothingly.

“What’s wrong Y/N? Is it the storm?” He asked, bringing his other hand to your shoulder.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, keeping your face buried in Jungkook’s neck.

“It’s alright, Jimin and I got you. You’ll be safe,” Jungkook promised.

Jimin rubbed soothing circles onto your back as the two of them tried to ease your frantic heart. Both of them knowing it can’t be good for the baby. But, also, on you. The stress of carrying a baby was already a lot, the fear of this thunderstorm wasn’t a good addition.

Soon, you had cried yourself to sleep.

Jimin took you in his arms, picking you up and Jungkook followed after him as they headed for your room.

The couple laid you down in bed, brushing your face tenderly. Jungkook watched as Jimin covered you up, bringing the sheets right up under your chin. He smiled at the soft pout on your lips, he wondered if the baby would have your cute pout.

Jimin, moved your hair away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear gently. When he was certain you were settled he took Jungkook’s hand and headed back to their bedroom.

“God, that scared the fuck out of me,” Jungkook said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

“Me too,” Jimin agreed, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“Didn’t know she was that scared of storms, makes me want to beat up the sky for scaring her like that,” Jungkook said, frowning.

Jimin laughed lightly, but kissed his boyfriend lovingly. “I know you would if you could, or at the very least, sue it,” he snorted.

“Ooh, yeah, that could work,” Jungkook said.

“I’d never seen her like that, so vulnerable. She always puts up such a tough exterior,” Jimin said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, maybe it shows that she’s starting to trust us. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to live with two people who are kinda strangers to her,” Jungkook said, feeling awkward.

“Well, maybe we can fix that,” Jimin reasoned.

“What do you have in mind my stunningly attractive boyfriend?” Jungkook asked, leaning forward.

“Mmm, let’s take her shopping. Spoil her a bit, you’ve got more zeros in your bank account than I can count on all of my fingers. She’s gonna need maternity clothes anyways. Imagine her all dressed in Gucci and Prada while walking around pregnant with our baby,” Jimin said, appearing to be day dreaming himself.

“That would be... nice... To spoil her, show her we care about her well being and everything,” Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“Let’s do it,” Jimin said, gripping Jungkook’s hands.

“Okay, yeah!”

Unfortunately for the couple, you appeared to be hating every second of this shopping excursion.

“Y/N! Come on,” Jungkook said, walking with Jimin’s hand interlocked with his.

“Coming, coming,” you sighed, following after them.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Do you need a break?” Jimin asked, stopping to take a look at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, sleepy,” you grumbled.

The boys had effectively cut off your caffeine intake as of late, and it was showing. You were more exhausted than ever, just wanting to sleep the day away, but the two men wanting to hear nothing of it today. Normally they would’ve just let you sleep, but, today was a different story.

Jimin bit his lip and looked at Jungkook with concern.

You didn’t seem to be having fun at all.

What was the point in spoiling you if you were just gonna wind up pissed off at the end of it? But maybe you just hadn’t found something you wanted yet. Jimin didn’t want to lose faith so early on, but you really were in a grumpy mood today.

Jungkook pointed out several different kinds of stores, suggesting different ones and you merely told them that whatever they wanted was fine. Feeling defeated already, Jimin told Jungkook to pick a store and maybe you’d find something you wanted in there.

Soon, you were in some high end designer store, looking around with a bored expression on your face. Most girls loved when you spoiled them, wanting nothing more than to have free reign with a credit card and a whole shopping mall. But you looked so fragile and out of place in this big store.

Jungkook looked around and found some things he wanted, Jimin too, but you were still sitting on the bench, head in your hand and looking tired.

The couple looked at each other, wondering what in the world they could do to make you smile. All they wanted to do was spoil you, make you feel better...

“Are you two with the young lady over there,” the store attendant asked, pointing at you with genuine curiosity.

“Ah, yes, she’s with us,” Jimin confirmed.

“I take it she’s not really into the whole shopping experience,” the attendant said, and the couple nodded sadly.

“We just wanted to spoil her, take her out and get her stuff she wanted. But it looks like she’d rather die than be here right now,” Jungkook said, frowning.

“Well, what are some things that she likes?” The shop attendant asked.

“Books,” both of them said quickly.

The attendant laughed at them softly, nodding.

“My wife is a fan of books too, sometimes I wonder if she likes them more than me. But, you said you want to spoil her right? Tell her that, explain what you’re doing, sometimes that helps,” he offered.

Jimin nodded, looking over at your sleepy figure in the corner of the store.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said.

The pair thanked the shop attendant for his time and headed towards you.

You looked up and tried to give the couple a smile, but it looked awkward and forced, making them frown even more. Jungkook sat down next to you, and Jimin kneeled in front of you.

“Y/N, do you know why we forced you out of your blankety cocoon today?” Jimin asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“You said you wanted to take me shopping,” you said, gazing back at him.

“Exactly, we wanted to take you shopping. Not just shop for ourselves and drag you around. We want to spoil you, give you whatever you want. All you have to do is ask and you can have it, Y/N, money isn’t an issue here,” Jimin said.

Biting your lip you felt yourself get uncomfortable. “I-I don’t really like being spoiled, you know? I um... It makes me feel weird,” you said, rubbing your neck.

“The last thing we wanted to do was make you upset,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“No I’m not upset I just feel awkward,” you explained.

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward Y/N, it’s just us,” Jimin reassured.

“People keep staring at us, like I’m some lame friend third wheeling on a date,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Jimin and Jungkook both swallowed hard.

They hadn’t realized people were staring. But it would make sense, Jimin and Jungkook were known in the city and suddenly a girl is walking around with them? That did seem a bit odd. They were also regulars in this mall and no doubt the staff were looking too.

God, they had messed this whole day up.

“Oh Y/N, we’re sorry,” Jungkook said, pressing his hands to his face.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion.

“Not including you,” Jimin explained.

“There’s no need to include me-” you started when Jungkook cut you off quickly.

“Yes there is, you’re carrying our baby, we want you to feel comfortable and safe. Not ignored and shut out, that’s not fair to you,” he said, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Yeah, we want you to have whatever you want. As long as it isn’t unhealthy for you or the baby,” Jimin said.

“This isn’t about flexing or whatever on other people, this is about you. And what you want,” Jungkook said.

“Well,” you said, worrying your lip with your teeth.

“Yes?” Jimin said, leaning forward.

“It’s, well, I guess some new clothes wouldn’t be bad. I’ll need maternity stuff,” you told them.

“Yes! Absolutely! We can do that!” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you with him.

However, it was a little too fast for you, causing your head to spin. Jungkook was steadying you with his warm palms on your waist, Jimin keeping you upright with his hands around your wrists.

“Sorry Y/N! I-I wasn’t thinking and I got so excited, sorry,” Jimin frowned at himself.

“It’s alright,” you said, not wanting him to be upset over something that didn’t really matter.

“I need to be more gentle with you, you’re carrying our baby for Christ sakes,” Jimin huffed.

You nodded, noticing the stern look on Jimin’s face. Licking your dry lips, you looked down at your feet. You were only a month along so you couldn’t really see anything yet. But knowing there was a life inside of you made you feel a little flutter in your chest every time you thought about it.

However, you needed to get that under control.

This wasn’t your baby.

And that’s just how it was going to be.

Jimin and Jungkook had managed to drag you into a designer store for mothers apparently, because everything in here looked like it was worth a fortune. How were you supposed to pick something and wear it when you were afraid it was gonna get dirty? For fucksake you were almost certain they would be ruined by the end of this pregnancy.

“Ooh! Y/N, pink is your color,” Jimin smiled, holding up a rose colored blouse at you.

Looking down you saw small daisies printed on the shirt as well. It was cute, you had to give him that. You agreed to try it on, but only if he promised not to show you the price tag. Jimin nodded quickly.

Jungkook came around the corner, carrying a couple different articles of clothing. Mainly dresses, as they would be a comfortable and easy choice. But there were some skirts and blouses in his arms too. After finding the ones you liked the three of you were sent to the dressing rooms.

Jimin and Jungkook waited outside on the bench, demanding a fashion show from you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say no before you headed in and tried on a couple of outfits.

You walked out and did a little spin every time, Jungkook and Jimin giving their opinions. Which were always small claps with whistles accompanying them.

Then you walked out in a shorter green sundress that you had managed to grab on the shelf without looking at the tag, thank God. It was green with splashes of turquoise and white that made your eyes pop beautifully. There was a cutout at the top that showed a little bit of cleavage but it wasn’t an insane amount. Nothing you thought anything of anyways.

It came to your knees, and it was generous with the room in it. No doubt when you were showing it would come up to your mid thigh. Fluffing your hair you walked out and smiled at the boys. Jungkook’s eyes trailed down your body. This was the first non maxi dress you’d tried on, even the skirts had been considerably modest. So, they were getting the first glimpse at your skin.

Jimin was stunned.

You were absolutely gorgeous. A vision.

Legs looking gorgeous and long, skirt fluttering around your knees but Jimin couldn’t help imagine you when you were showing a little more. Would it ride up higher? Clearing his throat he smiles at you.

“It looks really good, Y/N, I didn’t pick this one. Did you Kook?” Jimin said, turning to his boyfriend, who seemed to still be in a stupor.

“Jungkook?” You said, looking at the doe eyed man with a little bit of worry pinching your features.

“Yes? No, it-you look amazing Y/N, did you pick this out?” He asked you.

“I did, yeah,” you answered.

“Little sneak, do you really want to stop our hearts?” Jimin teased.

Blushing you brushed your hair behind your ear and stared at your shoes. Jungkook looked at you with so much longing it made Jimin’s heart stammer. Not out of jealousy, but something else. Jimin shook the thought from his head.

Soon you were all settled back in the car, several shopping bags in the back. Jimin and Jungkook had requested a driver today, wanting to just enjoy the experience. So, the driver dutifully drove while the three of you sat in the back.

You looked out the window and watched scenery pass you by. Jimin and Jungkook looked at you, each with a similar look on their face and similar feelings in their chest. But neither of them were brave enough to admit it to themselves. Not when they almost had everything they’ve ever wanted, or what they thought they wanted...

Getting out of the car, Jimin asked the driver to have the bags delivered up to their apartment. The driver nodded before disappearing.

The three of you made your way up to the apartment, but not before Jimin and Jungkook spilled that they had a surprise for you. Looking at them with a menacing glare, Jungkook broke first as you three made it into the entryway of the apartment.

“It’s nothing crazy, just... We didn’t want you feeling like the third wheel or, you know, not a part of this. You are just as important to us as the baby you are carrying, and while you’re with us we want you happy and... so we got you this,” Jungkook said, holding out the signature blue box that made your stomach churn with how much it must’ve cost.

“Please, don’t ask how much it cost. It doesn’t matter as long as it makes you happy,” Jimin whispered.

Slowly, you opened the box and a beautiful moon pendant sparkling in diamonds and white gold stared at you. You damn near dropped the thing because of how gorgeous it was. Jungkook and Jimin froze on the spot when they saw tears starting to fall down your face.

“Do you not like it?” Jimin asked.

“Is it too much? Did we go overboard?” Jungkook worried.

“N-No, it’s beautiful,” you said, touching the pendant with a delicate finger.

“Do you want to put it on?” Jungkook asked, hoping to God that you didn’t throw this pendant back in their faces.

“Yes, please,” you said, handing Jungkook the back and brushing your hair out of the way so he had access.

Slowly, you watched as the beautiful moon swung just above your cleavage, kissing your chest lightly. It was fastened behind your neck and you turned around, looking at the two men with a bright smile on your face.

Then, they held up their wrists.

A sun and a star.

You looked and saw it was all a matching set.

“You guys, you really,” you said, smiling softly.

“Honestly, Y/N, you’re our equal in this. You aren’t just a womb we’re renting,” Jimin said. “You’re a person, with wants and feelings and we want you to feel that. More than anything, we want you happy and safe.”

“We’re so thrilled you chose us, seriously. If there’s anything you want, anything you need, name it, we’ll get it for you. Scouts honor,” Jungkook said, holding up his hand.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion, more tears ran down your cheeks, making you sniffle and wipe at them with irritation. You didn’t want to cry right now, you were happy! Now, you just looked like a snotty red mess.

“Aw, don’t cry Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming forward to wipe your tears.

“God you guys are such turds, making me cry all the time,” you sniffled.

“It’s not our fault!” Jimin said.

“It is very much your fault,” you said, holding your stomach gently.

A rush of air left the two of them at you doing something so maternal. It made Jungkook’s blood burst into flames, and Jimin had to swallow a moan at the knowledge of you being pregnant with his baby. You cocked your head to the side and looked at the two silent men.

“Okay, well... Thanks for today you two... I’m glad I got to be spoiled a little bit. I’m gonna go take a shower, are we ordering out for dinner tonight?” You asked. They were still silent and you wondered what the fuck broke them when Jimin blinked rapidly a few times before clearing his throat.

“Y-You’re welcome, if you want to go again just tell us and we can,” he said, fighting to keep his calm exterior.

“Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower then,” you said again, taking off towards the stairs.

Jungkook damn near collapsed on the floor when you were finally gone.

“Jesus,” he said, panting hard.

“Do you, do you feel it too?” Jimin asked, gazing at the area where you had been standing.

“Yeah,” Jungkook croaked.

“Fuck what’s wrong with us? She’s here for us to care for her, to nurture her, not use her like some object,” Jimin said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Jungkook rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe his boyfriend’s frantic thoughts. He agreed. You weren’t someone for them to use and abuse... You were the mother of their child and you deserved to be respected. But God if the thought of you didn’t send their minds spiraling.

“I know... We just gotta tough it out I guess. What else can we do?” Jungkook reasoned.

“I don’t know Kook, I don’t know,” Jimin said, gripping his boyfriend’s hand tightly.

—

The six week mark came and so did the morning sickness. To start, it was just waves of nausea, but soon it turned into full blown vomiting.

It was around seven in the morning and you had barely slept a wink. You felt jittery and restless, unable to relax. But when you sat up to head to the kitchen for something to eat, your stomach flipped. Soon, you were in the bathroom getting sick in the toilet.

Shortly you heard a knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Sweetie are you alright?” Jimin’s worried voice echoed through the door.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, trying to keep yourself from hurling again.

“Can I come in?” His light tone echoed through the room.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling another rush of nausea washing over you as he comes in. You looked and saw his worried face come into focus.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jimin said, rubbing your back as you got sick once more.

“Jimin? Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the apartment.

“We’re in the bathroom Kook!” Jimin yelled.

Shortly Jungkook’s footsteps came into the bathroom. He was frowning, knowing you must be uncomfortable and there wasn’t much he could do for you. Watching Jimin rub your back gave him a sense of comfort however.

You were struggling with your chest being tender also. Every time you moved against the toilet you felt a jolt of pain go down your spine. Wincing when you came back up, Jimin had gotten you a little cup of water. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out and standing up slowly, per Jimin’s instructions.

You brushed your teeth and told the boys you were alright. They left and you did the rest of your morning routine. Jimin came back into your room and asked if you were ready for breakfast. You nodded and let Jimin lead you to the kitchen table. Jimin, taking note of your poor start to the day, asked if you wanted anything in particular for breakfast. Thinking back you really enjoyed the Nutella and banana toast he made for you a while back.

He nodded and started the toaster quickly. Jungkook had been working overtime recently and had to leave shortly after your bathroom incident. Soon, two pieces of Nutella toast with bananas were placed in front of you.

But the second the smell of banana hit your nose, you were scrunching up your face in disgust. Jimin looked at you with confusion. Then it dawned on him: food sensitivity.

Quickly removing the plate he asked if anything else sounded good, and you came up with the weird combination that was scrambled eggs with cream cheese.

Jimin looked on with a light smile on his face as you scarfed down the eggs and cream cheese without a single nose scrunch. It always made him happy to see you eating. Keeping up your health for the sake of the baby and you made him happy.

Soon, you were done and Jimin had gone into the living room to watch some TV when you noticed him sitting there. Lounging on the couch was a normal thing, but, looking at him now you-you couldn’t put your finger on it. He just looked so good, sitting there. He’d recently redid his hair so it was a beautiful blond color. His eyes wandered from the television to you, standing there in your loose t-shirt and pajama shorts.

He licked his lips for a moment, but that was all it took for you.

The flash of his tongue made you slightly weak in the knees, causing you to grip the edge of the table for support. Jimin seemed to mistake this for a more serious problem as he was up in a matter of seconds to come to your side.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” He asked, looking at you with concern.

“I-I’m good,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. “I think I just ate too fast.”

Jimin mulled this over in his head for a moment before nodding and stepping back.

“As long as you’re okay,” he said, heading back towards the couch.

But your symptoms weren’t just limited to food sensitivity, morning sickness and random bouts of arousal, oh no... The best one was the nightmares that had taken over your sleep schedule.

Normally they were just vague things that you forgot about when you woke up. But they were becoming more vivid. More, unsettling.

You were dreaming being in pools of blood, sometimes it was yours, sometimes it belonged to the boys. Sometimes you didn’t know where it came from, but it was always there. Never to be washed away, only to drown in...

You were caught up in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare...

You’d miscarried and lost the baby, Jimin and Jungkook were heartbroken and left you bleeding out on the floor as you stared up into the ceiling, dying.

The room was tilted and everything was wobbly.

You tried to go after them, to ask for another chance. But it was too late, they were gone.

Screaming, you bolted up in your bed. Tears flowing down your cheeks at a rapid rate. Your heart was hammering in your chest so loud you swore you could feel it in your throat.

You heard the slamming of a door and soon Jimin and Jungkook barged into your room, looking around frantically until they found you on your bed, shaking and crying into your hands.

“Y/N!” They yelled, going to your sides and trying to get you to talk to them.

“Sweetie, what happened? Why did you scream?” Jimin asked, petting your hair trying to soothe you.

“I-I had a nightmare, I-I lost the baby and, then lost you two,” you whimpered, covering your face again.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, the image of you crying being burned into his memory. He hated seeing you like this. It hurt him to see you so distraught. Jimin, too, was struggling with your emotions. He just wanted you happy and healthy, free from any worry and troubles of the real world. But of course, he couldn’t protect you from everything and everyone. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here, we aren’t going anywhere,” said Jungkook. You were crying violently, looking at the bed spread with blurred vision. Jimin looked at Jungkook with worry written all over his features, your smaller frame sat shaking in the bed as the two males tried to comfort you.

Jungkook hesitantly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. You looked up at the man with puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, before glancing back down at your lap.

“You aren’t going to lose us, Y/N,” Jimin reassured.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, so broken that it had both of their eyes tearing up at the sound.

“It’s alright, we’re scared too,” Jimin said, patting your hair gently. “But we’ll get through this.”

“There was so much blood,” you whimpered, biting your lip trying to keep the sobs from coming out.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said, feeling his eyes burning with unshed tears of his own.

“I was dying and you just... left me there,” you confessed.

“We could never leave you just like that Y/N, ever,” Jimin said, sounding shocked.

“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you,” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin grabbed his hand, rubbing his fingers over the knuckles. He knew seeing you like this was hard on both of them, and knowing how much you truly didn’t think they cared was also hurtful. Because all they wanted was to tell you you didn’t have to leave... But it couldn’t work like that.

Jimin’s work as a high end therapist was already wobbly because of his relationship with Jungkook. As unfortunate as it is, people didn’t want his help if he was dating a fellow man.

And Jungkook had already been shamed for his love publicly, the gossip forums on the newspaper and websites having a hay day with his image. He’d worked so hard to show he wasn’t any different than a straight man when it came to his work. But, the world is a cruel place, and social norms often reared their ugly heads with Jungkook.

They couldn’t drag you into that cesspool of nasty comments and uncomfortable encounters. It was a harsh reality, but it was the one you were all living in. And there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

Jungkook wanted to scream about how it was unfair. How you sitting here with them wasn’t wrong, as long as you all cared about one another, how could it be? But they both knew how this would end.

With you walking out of their lives and your child’s life, forever.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you hiccuped, swallowing down the rest of your tears.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Jimin said, rubbing your shoulder.

“If something’s wrong we want you to tell us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with misty eyes.

“I-I will,” you said, wiping your face.

“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?” Jimin asked, looking at your state with concern.

“I should be able to,” you said, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

“We can stay with you, until you’re asleep,” Jungkook offered before even thinking. Jimin’s head snapped to the younger male, who was already shrinking.

“W-Would you?” Your soft voice spoke up.

Jimin nodded finally, crawling into the bed with you and Jungkook following suit. They each took a hand and held it tightly. Jimin drew different shapes and patterns on your palm, making you giggle when it tickled. Jungkook interlocked your fingers together, running his thumb over your soft skin like Jimin did with him when he was nervous or scared.

Sooner, rather than later, you were passed out once more, hands clutching Jimin and Jungkook’s.

The men managed to untangle themselves from you as they went back to their room, hearts heavy. When the door shut, Jungkook burst into tears.

“Oh my sweet boy, don’t cry,” Jimin said, wiping his boyfriend’s cheeks carefully.

“Jimin,” he said, forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder.

“I know, it hurts me too,” Jimin whispered.

“I just want her to know that she’s not just a convenience, she’s so much more than that,” Jungkook whimpered.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, thinking of your body curled up on the couch with a good book and a warm drink next to you. Your smile when your favorite song comes on in the car. The way you’re already so protective over the baby.

“I don’t know if it’s because she’s carrying our baby or what, but, I want to be closer to her. I want to know everything about her... God I don’t know what to do with myself Jimin,” Jungkook complained, wiping at his tears in frustration.

“We just gotta keep it in our mind that she had a life before this, and she’ll have a life after it too. S-She’s doing this because we’re paying her Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the only reason but, it is the main one,” Jimin reminded his boyfriend, and himself.

Even though the words felt hollow in the air.

“I guess,” Jungkook said.

“You’ve got work early, we need to go back to bed,” Jimin said, motioning for Jungkook to get into bed as well. The two men cuddled up to each other, each feeling like something, or someone, was missing...

--

Faster than you thought possible, the ten week mark had come.

It was time to get your first ultrasound of the pregnancy.

The boys were over the moon about the whole thing. Excitedly chatting in the car.

“I hope we can see the baby well,” Jungkook said, driving carefully through the street.

Jimin hummed in agreement. “Me too, the baby is still super small right now. About the size of a prune but, we’ll still be able to see them on the screen. And, we can hear their heartbeat!”

You smiled at their excitement. Bringing your fingers up you brushed the pendant they gave you, a nervous habit you’d picked up shortly after their gifting it to you. Jungkook looked at you in the rearview, playing with the sparkling jewelry piece. It made his chest feel tight, looking at you. Jimin placed a hand on his, making Jungkook focus on him for a moment.

Jimin shook his head and Jungkook swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he meant.

Soon, you were all at the clinic.

Jimin helped you out of the backseat, getting your bag and whatnot so you didn’t have to fuss with it. Jungkook placed a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you into the building.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at the action, having to cover up your blushing with a cough. Jimin urged you to sit down while he got the paperwork, something you didn’t fight him on. You were exhausted as of late.

The boys reassured you it was normal to be tired. You knew, however, that you were a little more tired than normal. Briefly you wondered if it was because it was your first time and you’d never felt something like this. However, that didn’t sit right. You knew there was something going on, but you didn’t want to worry the boys. Especially since you were getting an ultrasound today.

Sitting next to Jungkook in the waiting room, he made small talk. Asking how you were feeling and if the morning sickness had gotten any better.

“It’s gotten worse,” you complained, leaning your head back in the seat.

“Really? Maybe we can ask the doctor to prescribe something for you,” he said.

“It should be going away soon, I’ll be alright,” you reassured, patting his knee.

“Sometimes it doesn’t go away until the baby is born, I just don’t want you to suffer if we can do something about it,” Jungkook said softly.

“If it gets too bad, I’ll say something. Okay?” You said, keeping a gentle smile on your face.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

Jimin came back and took Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Jimin had a habit of tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s hands when he was nervous, it made you smile.

Eventually a nurse called your name and led you back to the ultrasound room. Jungkook smiled and sat down in the chair provided. Jimin helped you up onto the table and the ultrasound tech went over what they would be looking for and opened it up for questions.

When no one had any, she proceeded.

“Okay, I just need you to pull the front of your pants down a little bit,” the tech asked, prepping the machine.

You immediately turned and looked at Jungkook and Jimin, then down at your stomach. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a little bit anyways.

Without much more thought you pulled your pants so just the top of your panties were showing. Jungkook’s eyes widened at your actions, but he tried to keep a calm exterior. Jimin kept his eyes trained on the screen, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

The ultrasound gel was cold, making you jump when it came in contact with your skin. But soon it was warming to your skin and you all looked at the screen with rapt attention.

“Alright so we should see the head and curvature of the body, but other than that this is just to make sure that everything is looking good in the uterus and to see if there are any abnormalities with the baby-oh! Babies it appears,” the tech said, a big smile on her face.

“What?” Jimin said.

“There’s another head there, if you look right here,” she pointed at the screen. “Looks like you’ve got a set of twins in there!”

Jungkook’s eyes teared up, looking down at your stomach with his heart in his throat.

You were stunned.

Twins?

The first try?

Wow, you really did win the lottery.

“Oh my God,” Jimin said, hiding his face in Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Way to go, got those twins first try,” you said, trying to keep your nerves under control.

“It’s all thanks to you Y/N, we couldn’t do it without you,” Jungkook reminded.

“Are you guys going to want the pictures?” The tech asked. Jimin and Jungkook of course said yes.

“Wow, look at their heads babe!” Jimin yelped as you all walked out of the clinic together. Jimin was still cooing over the pictures of the twins from the ultrasound.

“I need to put it in my wallet,” he said, bringing out the accessory shortly after.

You smiled at their excitement. You were beyond happy, you’d done it. Gave them the twins they desperately wanted. First try too. You knew that meant a few more complications, but, you didn’t want that to hold too much weight over you.

“We should call Namjoon and Jin! Tell them the news about the twins!”

You nodded quickly, wanting to tell your friends the update.

Namjoon and Jin were thrilled, obviously. Insisting that they’ll give Annie to Jin’s parents for the night so you could all get together and have a meal. Agreeing, the boys set it up for around seven thirty.

“Dress nice! I also expect to see those ultrasound pictures!” Jin said through the phone.

You snorted and shook your head, gently touching your stomach. You felt a fluttering in your chest, like you were standing on the edge of a tall building or something. It made you gasp lightly, moving your hand away from your belly to your chest. Jimin seemed to notice your movement because he was turning around in his seat.

“Everything alright there?” He asked, looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. We’re-good,” you said, pointing to your tummy. Jimin’s eyes lit up at the mention of the babies.

“Okay, tell me if you need anything,” he said, turning around and facing the front once more.

You all walked back into the apartment, Jungkook still gushing about everything. You simply smiled and went to go get ready for dinner.

Jin did say to look nice, so you picked out a few things from your shopping excursion a while back. Putting on a dress that looked skin tight but it was super stretchy, so no doubt you could wear it late into the pregnancy. The zipper on the back would be an issue but, it made you feel a little sexy. You hadn’t really done a lot in regards to your appearance around the boys, you didn’t see the need.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to do your hair and dress nicely...

You had the perfect shoes to pair with the dress. You grabbed some stockings and a few other small pieces of jewelry, placing them on the bed while you assembled everything together the way you wanted it.

Eventually, you were all set.

Except for the zipper on the back.

You didn’t understand why there was a zipper on such a stretchy dress, but fashion has its ways you guess. Reaching behind you proved unsuccessful. Quickly growing frustrated, you did the following without thinking.

“Jimin? Jungkook? Can one of you come here for a second please?”

Once the words were out, you immediately wished you could eat them.

But the damage had been done.

Both men walked in your room.

Jimin’s jaw dropped open, looking at you in awe.

You were in knee high stockings, low heels and a slinky black dress that hugged your body so perfectly it made him want to drop to his knees. Jungkook fared no better. Seeing your hair styled and a little bit of makeup on your features really enhanced your natural beauty. They both were staring, making you shrink in embarrassment.

“O-Okay, you can blink any time now,” you said, chuckling to ease the tension in the room.

“You look... wow,” Jimin breathed.

“Incredible. You look incredible,” Jungkook said, eyes trailing down your legs.

“Thank you, but, um... Could one of you please come zip me up? I can’t reach the zipper,” you said, turning your back to them fully.

Jungkook stared at his boyfriend with an almost agonized look on his face. Jimin nodded and walked forward, brushing your hair out of the way. Placing a gentle hand on your hip Jimin pulled the zipper up to the top, covering each inch of your beautiful skin.

Jungkook swallowed his noise of protest, trying to remember what Jimin had said. You weren’t an object for them to use, you were their surrogate. The woman who would be birthing their twins. And then leaving...

Jimin knew if Jungkook had walked forward to zip up your dress he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. Jimin wasn’t doing that hot either to be honest. Your hips flared out. Looking so beautiful hugged in the dress, and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips was... alarming.

“Thank you,” you said, turning around with a smile on your face.

Jimin couldn’t help but mirror your grin.

“Absolutely, are you ready to go now?” He asked, trying to keep from getting distracted any more.

“Yeah, let’s go! I want Jin to feed me so much I burst,” you said, heading towards the door. Once you were gone, Jungkook looked at Jimin.

“This is only getting harder,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“Are you going to be alright?” Jimin questioned, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah, just... This feels wrong,” Jungkook whispered.

“What feels wrong?” Jimin asked.

“Keeping her at arm's length, I just feel awkward. Pushing her away when she’s doing something so big for us, it’s really emotionally charged and... I feel like a jerk for treating her like just another person. Like she isn’t special,” Jungkook explained, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I understand,” Jimin said, trying to smooth the frown lines from Jungkook’s face.

“Boys? Are you coming?” Your voice echoed through the house.

“Coming!” Jimin said. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

—

The dinner at Jin and Namjoon’s was beyond anything you’d expected.

There was so much food and honestly, you ate a lot. Lying back in your chair, tilting your head back you sighed. Rubbing your stomach unconsciously. But the boys noticed everything. Especially how amazing you looked in that outfit.

It was just about all they could do to keep their hands off of you. Jungkook was fidgeting the whole night, being the one who sat next to you. He really tried to keep his cool, but a man could only take so much.

“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be pregnant with twins?” Namjoon asked, taking a small bite of rice.

“Honestly? It’s not been a cake walk, let me tell you. My mood swings are everywhere, my chest is killing me, food is either a hit or miss and don’t get me started on how arou-ahem,” you froze at your brazen attitude. Jimin and Jungkook’s heads snapped at your statement, looking at you with masked emotions. “Sorry, got carried away. Anyways, it’s been wild. But, I’m really glad to be doing it, you know? The boys take good care of me,” you praised, smiling at the two of them now.

Namjoon noticed it first.

The twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes at your words. How genuinely happy he seemed listening to you talk. Jimin’s body language was always engaged with you, never closing off or making it appear like he wasn’t interested.

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

This would need to be discussed...

Soon, everyone was sitting in the living room, just digesting. When you got up and said you had to use the restroom.

When the men were alone, Namjoon attacked.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked, looking at the two younger men with worry in his features.

“What do you mean?” Jimin quizzed right back.

“Listen, I’ve been friends with Y/N for a long time. I really care about her and want only the best for her. I also want you guys to be happy and healthy and have your own family, so please don’t take what I’m about to say personally but-what the fuck?” He asked.

“What do you mean what the fuck?” Jungkook asked.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Namjoon asked, feeling his frustration rise.

“Like what?!” Jimin argued.

“Like you-Like you, are all, like... a couple?” Namjoon said, feeling the awkward tension rising in the room.

“What?” Jungkook coughed.

“We aren’t together,” Jimin said slowly.

“But do you want to be?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook broke first.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, placing his head in his hands. Jimin was quick to comfort the younger male, rubbing his back in big, soothing circles.

“It’s a new experience for us. We just want her to be happy and healthy and safe. You know, take care of her,” Jimin explained, skirting around the question.

“Of course, but, there’s a difference between appreciation and affection,” Jin said, speaking up.

“Y-Yeah, we know that,” Jimin answered. “I’m a therapist, I know what emotions are.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“If you know what emotions are then why are you denying your own?” he asked.

“I’m not!”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon challenged.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jimin growled.

“What’s all the angry whispering out here for?” You asked, walking back into the room. The energy snapped within an instant.

“It’s alright, just a heated debate about politics,” Namjoon joked, giving you a tender smile.

“Oookay?” You said, coming back in to sit down next to Jungkook, who was trying his best to not squirm when your thigh brushed his.

The rest of the night moved rather calmly, but not without a fierce monopoly game that almost caused a few table flips. Jungkook wound up losing and threw a mini tantrum. But it was quickly smoothed over when you promised you’d bake him some cookies the next time he had a day off.

While Namjoon and Jin were cleaning up, Jungkook and Jimin discovered your sleeping frame on the couch once more. Breaths coming in even and slow, they smiled at you. Your lips were pouting lightly, something they’d discovered was a habit when you were sleeping.

And Jungkook adored it.

He came over to your side and tried to wake you up, but when you whined and fussed he decided it would just be easier to carry you to the car. Carefully, the strong young man lifted you into his arms and towards the door. Jimin got the rest of your things all together and they thanked Jin and Namjoon for the meal and night.

But before they left, Namjoon grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. Jungkook waited, looking back in worry. Jimin waved him on, saying he’d be there in a minute. Jungkook nodded before heading out the door.

“What?” Jimin asked.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I overstepped. I didn’t mean to offend you or Jungkook. It’s just, Y/N is very inexperienced when it comes to love and emotions and having that connection. I’m worried about what’s happening to her. I don’t want her to get her hopes up and be crushed later on,” he explained.

Jimin nodded his head.

“I accept your apology. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle either, Jungkook and I have been... Discussing it. But it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, we aren’t sure what we feel for her... We know we care about her, but is it because she’s our surrogate and we want to care for her? Or is it something deeper? We don’t know,” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Y/N is so special. She gives without thinking, she is so dedicated to those she cares about... she’d give the shirt off her back to someone she didn’t even know. It’s hard not to love her, but... she doesn’t deserve to be pulled in a million different directions either. But you all deserve to be happy, I’m always here if you need to talk,” Namjoon offered.

Jimin smiled lightly. “That’s normally my line.”

“You guys are good people, I wouldn’t have recommended Y/N do this if I didn’t trust you. But, just... please don’t take advantage of her heart. And don’t lie to yourselves either.”

Jimin nodded, looking down at the floor with a resolute nod.

“Thanks, both of you,” Jimin said, giving a small wave before heading out towards the car. Jungkook already had you buckled and settled in.

“What was that about?” Jungkook asked, getting into the front seat.

“He wanted to apologize for earlier, he felt like he overstepped. And, he wanted to explain why he was so defensive over Y/N,” Jimin said.

Jungkook nodded and started the car, taking off down the road.

“Why is he so protective? Did they like, date in the past or something?” Jungkook asked. Jimin shook his head.

“N-No, Y/N hasn’t ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend,” Jimin said, resting his head in his hand.

“What? Really?” Jungkook balked. Trying to think of how someone like you hadn’t ever been snatched up before. You were a total catch! But, you did tend to keep to yourself.

“Yeah, she told me about it the day she had her IUI done,” Jimin explained.

“Oh, so-wait. She’s having a baby when she’s never, like, had sex?” Jungkook said. “Is that safe?”

“I mean I’m sure it’s safe but, she’s not... Um, she told me she’s had sex before,” Jimin said.

“Wow, how did this all come up?” Jungkook asked.

“Well, she mentioned something about wanting someone who looked at her the way we look at each other,” Jimin blushed.

“She’s so cute,” Jungkook groaned. “Well, at least she’s been with someone before. You know, had that kind of pleasure.”

Jimin coughed, rubbing his neck. Jungkook looked at him weirdly.

“What?”

“She may have off-handedly mentioned that she’s never, uh... You know, finished,” Jimin flushed. Jungkook looked floored at the information.

“You mean to tell me, that some jerk took her virginity and didn’t fucking make it special? What a fucking tool bag,” Jungkook growled.

“I don’t know the story, she didn’t divulge that kind of information. I was the one who guessed she’s never finished, and she was pretty embarrassed about it all to be honest,” Jimin said.

“That is so frustrating,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah.”

The car was quiet, save for your soft little snores coming from the back seat.

“Did you hear what she said during dinner?” Jimin asked. “When she was talking about her pregnancy symptoms.”

“Yeah...” Jungkook trailed off.

“I wish we could do something for her, I feel so bad,” Jimin whispered.

“We can be there to support her but we can’t over step either,” Jungkook said.

“I know, normally I’m the one reminding you of that,” Jimin huffed.

“I understand it’s not easy for either of us,” Jungkook said softly.

“Maybe we just need a god romp in the sheets to get it out of our system hmm?” Jimin teased, running a hand up Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help the hiss that came out of his mouth at the touch. They hadn’t really been active in that way since you’d come into the house.

“Y-You know how loud I get,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Oh I’m very aware how loud I can make you scream,” Jimin winked.

“Stop, I’m already hard,” Jungkook whined.

“I bet you are baby,” Jimin said, squeezing his boyfriend’s thigh tight.

“Stop, please,” Jungkook whined.

“Mmm,” Jimin said, not sensing that Jungkook really wanted him to stop. “And what if I keep going baby? What if I snuck my hand into your pants and tugged your pathetic little cock until you came huh? Make you come all over your expensive pants and make you lick it up?”

“Jimin,” Jungkook said, cock straining against his pants.

“Yes baby? What does my baby want, huh?” Jimin asked, so sweet... Almost dangerous.

“I-I want-”

“Mmm, are we home yet?” You voice perked up from the back seat.

“Y/N?” Jimin asked, turning to look at you. Your eyes were bleary from sleep and it was obvious you must’ve just woken up. Jungkook adjusted himself in the seat, trying to hide his throbbing erection from your sight.

“Yeah?” You said, blinking slow.

“Sweetie,” Jimin cooed, brushing a few strands of your hair back from your face, even though it was an awkward angle for him.

“Jungkook are you okay?” You asked, noticing how tense the young man’s posture was.

“I-I’m good,” he said, trying to hide his arousal.

“Okay,” you said, laying your head back down.

Jungkook pulled the car into the front slot of the building, handing the keys over to the valet. The two of them brought you out of the car and Jimin decided it was his turn to carry you up to the apartment. So, the three of you all made it to the apartment in silence.

You were awake, but you weren’t feeling too terribly chatty. Sleep still at the forefront of your mind. Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t spoken since you got out of the car, and you can’t help but feel like you were in the middle of something kinda intense. The charged feeling in the room making you shift against Jimin’s chest.

He looked down at you, trying to keep himself from jostling you too much. You were exhausted. But soon, you felt bile rising in your throat...

“Jimin put me down,” you said, holding your hand to the mouth. Just as he set you down you scrambled to the bathroom and threw up the massive dinner you’d eaten. Jimin and Jungkook were rushing right after you. Jungkook brought your hair away from your face. Jimin sat down next to him to rub your back.

You got to the point where you were just dry heaving into the toilet, but it didn’t seem to end.

“Oh fuck,” you croaked, coughing hard.

“You want some water?” Jimin asked.

“No, I’m scared I’ll just throw that up too,” you whined.

“It might be better than just dry heaving,” Jimin said.

“You got a point,” you huffed, trying to keep your head from spinning.

“I’ll get you some,” he said, moving off the floor to head towards the kitchen. Jungkook shuffled forward, kind of molding his front to your back. When you pushed a little too hard against him you felt it. Wondering what it could be for a moment you pushed back against him again, when he groaned in surprise.

“U-Um, Jungkook?” You squeaked.

“S-Sorry!” He said, moving away faster than the speed of light.

“I-It’s okay, just, you know,” you flushed.

“It’s not because of you! It’s not uh, I wasn’t um,” he stuttered.

“I-I didn’t think it was?” You said, more of a question.

“It’s not that you’re not pretty or anything it’s-”

“No, I get it,” you said, smiling weakly.

“Y/N-”

“Here’s your water,” Jimin said, bringing in a glass for you to drink.

You sipped it slowly. Not paying attention. Jungkook looked like he was going to die in the corner, which made Jimin shoot him a weird look. He just shook his head as he covered his face. Jimin made a mental note to question him about it later, but his concern was on you right now.

“Have you been getting sick a lot?” Jimin asked, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“I mean, it’s mainly in the morning. I think I just ate too much at dinner,” you said, pouting lightly.

“Gotcha, do you feel like you’re going to get sick again? Or do you think you’re done?” He asked.

“I-I think I’m good,” you said, putting the empty glass down.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asked, making you look at him.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, eyes getting droopy again.

“Alright sleepyhead, brush your teeth and go to bed. Need help getting up?” Jimin worried, fussing over you like any father to be would.

You stood up slowly, mindful of your dizzy head. But, when you stood at the sink you felt everything kinda snap into focus. Jimin dragged Jungkook out of the bathroom to let you do your thing, but told you to come get them if you needed anything.

Hurrying into the bedroom, Jimin narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Why did you look like you’d rather crawl into an overflowing storm drain than be in that bathroom? What happened when I was getting water?”

Jungkook looked up at Jimin could see the embarrassment on his face. Sighing, Jimin sat down, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you in the car. It’s just, been a while you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” Jimin apologized.

“Y/N felt it, my... When you moved me so you could get out of the bathroom to get her the water, she was pushed up against me. And, she pushed back against me and felt my dick against her,” Jungkook said, rubbing her face.

“Oh, that is... uh, awkward,” Jimin agreed.

“It gets worse,” Jungkook said.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked.

“I-I told her it wasn’t because of her and then I tried to tell her it’s not that she wasn’t pretty and I just threw up a bunch of words that didn’t make sense and then you were back,” Jungkook whimpered.

Jimin sighed. Jungkook had never been a genius with words, but normally he was better than that. He knows that Jungkook is mortified, Jungkook wasn’t good at mingling or recovering from blunders of the social variety. So, Jimin just sighed and gave his boyfriend a gentle kiss.

“It’s okay Jungkook, Y/N isn’t gonna hold this against you,” Jimin soothed.

“I just feel terrible,” Jungkook said softly.

“Why? It was an accident,” Jimin reasoned.

“Because I-I didn’t want her to stop,” he swallowed. Jimin bit his lip and tried to keep his anger from spilling over.

“I don’t know how many times we have to talk about this Jungkook,” Jimin said.

“We were talking about it in the car! But we’ve never talked about what we want, what we’re doing now, it's not sustainable. I’m going crazy!” Jungkook yelled.

“Jungkook keep your voice down!” Jimin reminded.

“Jimin I’m so fucking confused, I don’t know what we’re doing. What I’m doing. I-I do know one thing for certain. I love those kids, so much, and they aren’t even here yet. I love them so much, because they’re ours... But... I can’t keep doing this. Getting closer only to rip myself away, it’s killing me Jimin. If you want me to walk away, I will but, I just can’t keep giving myself hope when there isn’t any,” Jungkook cried, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I-I didn’t know you were so broken up over this,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m so confused,” Jungkook whispered.

“I am too, I love you so much but... I feel this connection to her. I know it’s normal to be grateful, but, I know it’s more than that with her,” Jimin said, moving to give Jungkook a back hug.

“Then we need to make a decision,” Jungkook said.

“You want to pursue her as a part of our couple? Like, make her our girlfriend?” Jimin asked.

“Do you?” Jungkook asked back.

“I mean... I wouldn’t be opposed,” Jimin said softly.

“I don’t want this if you don’t,” Jungkook said, turning to look at Jimin with sparkling eyes.

“I want this... I want her, but, we need to give her some time, as well as ourselves to come to terms with this,” Jimin reasoned.

“Okay,” Jungkook agreed.

“But, when we’re both ready, we can approach her,” Jimin said.

“Would this be healthy to do? I mean, mentally,” Jungkook asked.

“Polygamous couples generally tend to have better communication than the average two person couples. And with one of us being a therapist I think we could manage. I-I want to work towards that,” Jimin confessed.

“I want this too,” Jungkook said excitedly.

“Then that’s what we’ll do...”

You laid in bed late into the night. You heard Jungkook and Jimin having a disagreement. You couldn’t make out the words but, the walls were thin... You prayed to God that it wasn’t about you, or anything related to the children.

Slowly, your hand trailed down to your stomach. You didn’t think you could see a bump yet, but maybe a little something? You weren’t sure, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

You moved slightly, and you felt something in your underwear. Adjusting lightly, you pulled them down to look, and you saw a decent amount of arousal soaking into the cotton fabric. Blushing bright red you reached down to touch your hot center, to find that you were, in fact, dripping wet.

Biting your lip you thought back on the bathroom incident. Jungkook’s firm body pressed against yours, his hardened cock pressed against your ass, the hot groan he let out. Running your fingers over your slit, you gathered your slick and pushed against your clit gently.

Shockwaves of pleasure ripped through you at the sensation.

“Oh!” You gasped, hand coming up to cover your mouth in fear of waking the boys.

You did it again, causing your body to jump slightly, making more of your arousal drip from your center. Licking your lips you thought about what Jungkook’s hands would feel like instead of yours. What his body would feel like pressed up against yours naked... Jimin’s plump lips flashed through your mind for a second, making you wonder what his blond head would look like between-

No!

No no no no no!

Ripping your hand away from your weeping core you turned over and placed your hands on your head.

How could you? Those two weren’t something to fuel your lonely fantasies! They are in love with each other, and are going to have a family... Albeit you had to help with that part but, still. Jimin and Jungkook weren’t yours... They were each other’s...

But as much as you tried to tell yourself that it would never happen...

You couldn’t help but dream of the two men’s hands running over your body...

Hot breaths touching your ears...

Taglist: @kittkat44, @giadalin, @kookachuwu

If you want to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask!

[moronic-validity]

First Date (Kinda)- Billy Lenz

Note: Okay so like I patterned Billy’s speech after my own when I’m manic. I know it isn’t perfect to the character, but I wasn’t sure how else to do it...

There are also a lot of time jumps...

Warnings: uhhh interesting parenting choices, interesting life choices, threats of murder....accidental nearly 2k fic. 

The sorority moved out in a hurry after the murders and the school would not allow any students live there. The chances it would happen again were low, but not zero. Putting students back in that house would look bad.

The house went on the market fully furnished and your family got it for a steal, for cheaper than international tuition and four years of on campus housing. Their only rule for the house was that you paid the utilities and for any repairs, other than that, good luck in Canada.

Everything was fine for the first few months, classes went well enough. November came and went, and suddenly it was December. You knew the history of the house so you were a bit gun-shy to put up decorations.

Then the phone calls started.

Pretty piggy this, Billy that, something about your cunt mixed in. You rolled your eyes.

“Hey dude, I know the transcripts are like public info now or whatever, but please get some original content,” and with that, you hung up on him.

The next call was heavy breathing. Your eyes hit the back of your skull and you decided to pant into the phone as a reply before hanging up.

Call three was the one that got your attention. The caller was silent and you were near certain the line went dead.

“I’m going to kill you.”

You blinked a few times, processing the information. It wasn’t the fact he told you he was going to kill you with a level of certainty reserved for phrases like ‘2+2=4’. It was the fact that despite the phone damn near back on the receiver, you heard him loud and clear.

He was in the house.

You cursed yourself up and down for moving into the stupid house. You cursed yourself twice over for not checking all the locks.

You could’ve run, but you had drawn the conclusion that he was close enough to nix that. You also knew he was close enough to hear it if you tried calling the police, and you knew they wouldn’t make it in time anyway.  Instead you calmly picked up the phone and clicked redial then call.

A phone rang upstairs.

Billy wasn’t expecting his phone to ring. He stared at the Nokia in his hand. He called people; people didn’t call him.

Then it stopped ringing.

“Billy?” You asked cautiously, remembering his name from the earlier, expletive filled rant. You took his silence as confirmation, “Billy, I know you’re upstairs.”

Billy shuffled in place. He wasn’t used to this, not at all.

“Hey,” you said, snapping him back to the one-sided confirmation, “it’s colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra, I have plenty of blankets down here. I’m going to put some of them on the stairs, then I’m going to make myself some adult hot chocolate. If you’re going to kill me, could you wait until I’m drunk?” You hung up the phone and, as you told Billy you would, placed a few thicker blankets on the stairs. You walked into the kitchen and filled a mug with water and popped it in the microwave.

You pulled out your phone and sent a few texts to your parents, wishing them a merry Christmas and letting them know that you regret not spending the money for a plane ticket home. You felt the tears well up. God, these were going to be your final words. Nothing overly profound, just a wish to be back in your childhood home.

The microwave beeped and you wiped the tears out of your eyes. You added the powdered hot chocolate mix and turned around to grab your bottle of vanilla vodka. You were met with a fairly lanky man standing a bit too close for comfort.

The only thing in the situation that brought you peace was that he couldn’t hurt you while his hands were occupied, focused on keeping your grey blanket wrapped around his shoulders.  

You two stared at each other for a moment or two before he broke the silence.

“Want some,” he nodded at the hot chocolate in your hands.

You stared at him a second longer before nodding.

“Want vodka in yours?” You asked. He shook his head no, like a dog trying to dry itself.

You filled a second mug with water and heated it up the same way you did yours. The second you had it in the microwave, you turned back to face the stranger at your table.

“So..” you started, watching him tap his foot, twiddle his thumbs, and periodically twitch, “are you still planning on killing me?”

“No no no, Bibibilly,” he took a deep breath and started over, “No, Billy isn’t goigoing to kill you.” He went back to paying attention to his thumbs.

You nodded slowly, unsure if you believed him or not. The microwave beeped and you took his mug out, quickly mixing him a normal hot chocolate. You pulled some whipped cream from the fridge and sprayed a generous amount onto his drink then placed it on the counter in front of him. You thought about it, decided to forgo the alcohol, and grant yourself a generous amount of whipped cream as well.

You turned back to him after fixing your drink, only to find him gone with your mug.

You knew you probably wouldn’t be sleeping, but for some reason, you also couldn’t bring yourself to call the cops. Your therapist was going to be thera-pissed when/if you told her.

Billy was perched at the top of the stairs, sipping the drink you made him. He wasn’t sure when he decided he wouldn’t kill you, but he wasn’t going to. He adjusted the blanket, your blanket, around his shoulders. He flipped open his phone and called you.

“Yes Billy?” you answered the phone.

He was breathing heavily into the phone, then mumbled a single word. Stairs. Then he hung up the phone.

You walked to the bottom of the stairs and saw where he had set down the now empty mug. You smiled to yourself.

Billy lived in your house for weeks. You only knew he was there when he would call you with single word requests. They ranged from requests for blankets to trying to bargain with you for hot chocolate.

Late January, you decided to set up a bedroom for your ‘roommate’. There were plenty of rooms and you didn’t want him getting sick in the attic and then giving it to you when you two did see each other.

Billy’s phone rang once before he picked it up.

“Come on downstairs,” you told him, not waiting for a response before hanging up.

He padded down the stairs, wearing one of your sweatshirts that you thought went missing out of the wash. He rounded the corner, down one of the hallways filled with rooms. That’s where he saw you, shifting foot to foot, clearly excited about something.

He looked into the room and saw the bed was made, a mug on the dresser, and a pillow -one he recognized from your own bed- laying at the head of this other one.

“It’s for you,” you explained, doing another grand sweeping motion. “I don’t want you sleeping in the attic anymore, it’s too cold up there, you’ll catch your death and give it to me.”  

Billy was frozen in place. He wasn’t sure how to process this one. He looked from the bed to you, then back to the bed, then locked his eyes on you again, trying to read your mind.

You tried to read the look on Billy’s face. He was squinting at you like he was trying to work all of this out. Then he latched onto you, hugging you tighter than was comfortable. You accepted his affection and wrapped your arms around him.

Once he let go, he started rambling through different expletives and went to explore his new room. You leaned against his door frame and watched.  

The rest of January went, Billy proved to actually be a solid roommate, often doing the dishes or sweeping when you were in class.

You came home in a horrible mood February 13th, it wasn’t like you had a partner to celebrate Valentine’s Day with, but it didn’t stop you from being pissed that you would be spending it alone with Netflix.

Whatever, it’s some commercial bullshit holiday to convince people to spend money for no good fucking reason.

As pissed as you were, you were careful not to slam and doors, well aware that it had a tendency to throw Billy into a spiral.

Billy watched you come in and he could feel the frustration radiating off of you.

You flashed him an unconvincing smile, then walked into your room and shut the door.

Billy did not like that one bit. He went into the kitchen and mirrored your motions from the night you two met, making hot chocolate with plenty of whipped cream. He carried the two mugs to your room and knocked on the door with his foot.

You opened the door and the first thing he noticed was that your eyes were red. You had been crying. Billy was always more used to loud and violent anger, but yours was quiet and you did your best to keep it to yourself. You turned around and sat cross-legged at the head of your bed, clutching a pillow.

He set the drinks down on the dresser and sat across from you on your bed, mirroring your position.

“is [y/n] okay?” he asked, probably louder than he meant to.

You sat silently before bursting into tears and rambling all of your problems to him. He sat and listened, fidgeting every few seconds, but that was more than normal for him.

He did his best to pay attention and he understood that it was less about being lonely and more about feeling alone.

He got up off the bed and brought you the drink he made and put the mug into your hands. You stopped talking and took a long drink of the now lukewarm hot chocolate.

He watched you drink intently, tapping the sides of his own mug.

“Thank you” you set the drink down on the cluttered table next to your bed and you leaned against him, resting your head on his hunched shoulder.

[offbrandhange]

hi! are you accepting requests? if so can i request a fic where levi and the reader are secretly seeing each other and their little interactions spark up the interest of hange, so hange tells the rest of the levi squad and they all try to find out whether theyre dating or not? thank you!!

Yes, I am!!! Tysm for this idea I had so much fun writing it!!!

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: ~1.4K

a/n -- I really hope this isn’t bad HHHHHHH

The mess hall was rowdy as always for a Friday night; all different regiments and ranks joined together—just to drunkenly blow off steam.

At the higher-ups’ table, a loud thud was heard; Hange had slammed down their beer-filled mug, laughing as they slightly splashed it on the man in front of them.

“Sorry,” They hummed cheerfully, despite knowing it was likely they would get berated for getting beer on him; He scolded them every chance he got.

Hange smiled stupidly while waiting for harsh words, but there were none. The man said nothing, his eyes completely elsewhere. He had no idea there was an ale stain on his white cravat.

“Levi?” Hange blurted in confusion, hiccuping while they did so. 

It was beyond uncommon for Levi to be spaced out and uncaring about a mess. He hated anything he deemed unclean—and he was picky about it, too. 

Hange was knowingly alarmed by their colleague’s strange behavior, and so, they curiously turned their head to see what he was staring at. 

His eyes were locked on a cadet belonging to the Scout regiment—one that Hange scarcely recognized as someone often around the Titan shifter, Eren Jaeger.

“That’s odd,” Hange murmured to themself, lifting the beer to their mouth to sip.“Wonder if this’ll work.” 

Mischievously, Hange ran their hand on the underside of the wooden table, getting a good heap of dust and dirt to stick to their palm. Afterward, Hange lifted themselves from their seat, leaned over the table, and softly flattened their hand on the top of Levi’s head; he didn’t move an inch. 

A booming “Woah,” escaped their lips, and in the typical Hange way, it caught everyone at the table’s attention—everyone except for Levi.

“Hange,” their co-worker called, a member of Levi’s squad; it was Petra. “What’s wrong?”

“He didn’t even flinch—I touched him with dusty hands!” Hange exclaimed, making dramatic gestures in disbelief. 

Petra raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Levi, who was now not only wearing a stained cravat; but also dust particles covering his usually impeccably shiny raven hair. 

Hange let out another scream in amazement; once again catching everyone’s attention—but not just those at the table. This time, the cadet noticed as well.

You began your strides over towards Levi—leaving behind your other members of the scouts. The closer you came towards him, the more his face began to change from pale to pink.

Hange watched in disbelief as you smiled at the short man, who now met your eyes with a softened gaze. 

You reached to his cravat; pinching the corner lightly to look at the stain Hange’s beer left. “Oh,” you scrunched your eyebrow. You weren’t sure why he hadn’t been freaking out over the stain.  “Do you want me to wash this for you? It’s dirty.” You asked,  pulling your hand back.

Levi’s gaze diverted from yours as his face changed from blushing pink to cherry red, practically ripping off his cravat to hand to you. “Sure.” He quickly replied.

Both Petra and Hange stared in shock. The usually strict, grumpy, short-tempered Levi was completely gone. Instead, he was now a wide-eyed, innocent virgin—who seemed to have not known what a woman was.

As you walked out of the mess hall with Levi’s cravat—to presumably wash—his focus was finally back to normal.

“What?” He growled, meeting Hange and Petra’s bewildered eyes with his violent ones.

They paused for a moment, saying nothing, until Hange deftly answered, “You got dust on your head.” 

Levi’s eyes widened, and he immediately started swatting at his head, disgusted by all the particles surrounding him.

“I need a shower.” He stated, rising from his seat, speed walking awkwardly out of the mess hall. It was clear he was very close to freaking out--grime was one of the only tame things in life that scared him.

After he left, Petra and Hange both silently sat, trying to comprehend what just happened. 

“Is Captain....dating?” Petra questioned, turning to look at Hange.

“Levi? Dating? No way.” Hange answered, not completely convinced of their own conviction.

There was another long silence between Petra and Hange—and then Hange opened their mouth to speak.

“We’re definitely investigating, right?” 

“What? Isn’t that an invasion of his privacy? I don’t think he would like it—“ Petra pleaded, but it was to no avail—Hange had already risen from their seat.

“Get the rest of Levi squad, then meet me outside of his office.” 

Petra sighed as she watched Hange leave the room; She was not too keen on snooping in on Levi’s personal life—mostly because she valued his opinion of her—and did not want to lose his trust. 

Hange, however, was giggling to themselves, bouncing as they walked to Levi’s office. 

The walk didn’t take long, since his room was relatively close to the mess hall; but picking the lock certainly would. Once they arrived at Levi’s door, Hange pulled a hairpin from the bird’s nest that rested atop their head—poking and prodding at the lock best as they could. 

When the lock had broken, Hange turned to see that Petra and the rest of the Levi squad were standing beside them.

“Good, you’re here.”

“Is Captain Levi really dating? He doesn’t seem like the type to get involved with others.” Eld questioned.

Oluo scoffed before he replied. “Of course not—he’s way too busy.” 

Petra rolled her eyes. “Like you’d know.”

“Of course I would—are you implying I don’t know what it’s like to be busy? My kill count—“ Oluo stopped, accidentally biting his tongue.

Gunther just sighed and made his way into the room; the rest following along. 

Hange and the Levi squad searched for what seemed like forever; they looked for anything they could find—a love letter, gifts, anything out of the ordinary that their Captain would not normally have—but they found nothing.

Eventually, Gunther sighed and slammed the desk drawer shut. “This is pointless.”

“And an invasion of privacy,” Petra added, sounding slightly annoyed.

Hange was starting to tire themselves—pushing up their glasses and rubbing their eyes, they spoke. “Fine, let’s call it a night; we can try and pair them up tomorrow during training and see then.” 

Everyone left the room, dragging their feet. Their mission failed, and everyone was beyond tired; They certainly weren’t going to stay up any later than they already had.

Goodbyes were exchanged, and they headed their separate ways; Hange specifically towards their dorm. 

And that’s when they turned the corner—and saw Levi talking with you in the deserted hall.

Hange hid, pushing their glasses back down to see clearer. Excited, they screamed internally.

Levi stood with the straightest posture possible; you could tell he was nervous. His hair was pushed back out of his face, still wet from his shower, with a towel draped around his neck. 

You handed him his cravat, teasing him for getting it dirty. It was exactly what you expected to see from two lovers.

Once you leaned in to kiss Levi on the cheek, Hange jumped out from the corner, revealing themselves.

“HOLY SHIT! YOU ARE DATING!” Hange screamed, standing strangely, pointing at you and Levi.

The short man went flying as he threw himself away from you—he was now flat against the wall, with an expression that mimicked a frightened cat.

Slightly spooked yourself, you turned to look at Hange. “Oh. Squad Leader Hange.” 

 “ARE YOU DATING?” Hange screamed down the hall—you could hear an angry cadet in their room yell back, “shut up.”

Levi peeled himself off the wall, walking down towards Hange angrily—you followed.

“What is this.” He sneered, glaring at his colleague.

“ARE. YOU. DATING.” Hange repeated, putting a lengthy amount of space between their words.

Levi turned bright pink again—and said nothing. Annoyed, you sighed and spoke for him. “Yes, we are.”

“HOLY SHIT!” Hange yelled, dragging out the o.

“Keep your mouth shut, four eyes.” Levi spat, returning to his typical grumpy demeanor.

You pat him on the shoulder, resting your hand there to represent a small, “be nice.” His face grew even more in color; instantly melting at your touch.

“Don’t go around telling people,” you said, trying to clarify what he meant. “I don’t want others to think I’m getting special privileges.”

Hange sucked in a long breath, trying to calm themselves. “Sure, sure, yep, yep, yep. I got you.” They smiled politely, beginning to walk off.

You and Levi watched as they turned to corner—and all of a sudden you heard them scream.

“PETRA!” 

Levi charged after Hange—and you muttered to yourself, “oh my god” before following along.

It was going to be a long night.

[acnelli]

First Time Falling

This is my entry for the @hpqueerfest 2021. Thanks to the mods who hosted this! And a big thank you to my great beta-readers @nagemeikenu and @static-abyss who put up with my phone-writery (writing time is hard to come by these days).

This story was inspired by Prelude and Fugue by shes_gone, and it’s set in a world where Harry didn’t go to Hogwarts, but had been prepared for his destiny.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley Rating: T TW: strong language, mentions of war time, mentions of drug and alcohol consume Prompt: Falling in love for the first time as an adult (late 20’s-early 30’s) Summary: Harry Potter –Head-Auror and Savior of the Wizarding World– spontaneously asked out a cute redhead and it turned to so much more than he could have ever hoped for. 

You can also read this on AO3 and FFN.

*** *** *** *** ***

Not bothering to knock, Ron Weasley marched into Hermione Granger’s office. The heavy mahogany door slammed against the wall, making Hermione jump up from her chair.

“Ron,” she shrieked as a bunch of paper fell off her desk. “What happened?”

Instead of providing his best friend with an explanation for his sudden intrusion, Ron paced back and forth. The panicked look in his eyes made Hermione assume the worst.

With one swift motion, Hermione stepped in front of the redhead, forcing him to stop his frantic pacing. “Ron, please talk to me,” she pleaded, taking his hand into hers. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt? Is your family okay?”

Hermione’s worried expression and the panic in her voice finally brought Ron to his senses. “No, don’t worry, Hermione,” he sighed as he closed her office door. “I’m sorry! But...do you have time for a quick cup of tea in the cafeteria?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. This report is giving me a headache and I need a break.”

Hermione grabbed her purse and gestured for Ron to lead the way.

“I swear, Ron, if you almost gave me a heart attack over something Quidditch related, I’ll hex you into next week and make your new Firebolt disappear forever,” Hermione added as they made their way down to the Ministry cafeteria.

Ron glanced over at the bushy-haired witch, suppressing a grin as he told her his distress was indeed about Quidditch. They grabbed their beverages and headed towards a free table. Gracing him with a dark look, Hermione gestured for Ron to finally tell her what’s going on.

“Harry Potter asked me out on a date!”

This statement caused Hermione’s drink to go down the wrong way, resulting in a violent coughing fit and her spitting out the tea.

“What?” she wheezed out between coughs, as Ron cleaned his face and shirt with his wand.

He waited patiently until Hermione recovered, both from the coughing fit and the shock. “See, even you don’t believe me,” Ron sighed, harshly rubbing his hands over his face, “I don’t blame you, though. I can’t believe it myself, after all.”

Finally being able to speak again, Hermione put her elbows on the small table and leaned forward, determined to not miss a single thing about this story. “Spill! How? When? Where? And don’t you dare to leave out even the smallest detail.”

Ron shook his head, still in disbelief about what had happened to him just twenty minutes ago. Not being able to wrap his head around it, he decided to tell Hermione today’s events from beginning to end.

“Today, Robertson sent me a memo to come to his office to discuss the ridiculous complaints about the Tornados/Harpies game last week,” Ron started and couldn’t help rolling his eyes about the things he had to put up with at work sometimes. “So, I went there, gave him my report about the match and a brief overview. Thank Merlin, he only asked his usual useless questions about referee bribery claims. I was ready to launch into a whole speech but he suddenly dismissed me and told me to write up a statement for the press.

“I was just on my way back to my office when I met Seamus. The fucking wanker had the nerve to claim the next Cannons match for himself. I know he did that just to spite me so, naturally, I gave him an ear full about it as we waited for the lift. We only noticed Harry Potter standing right behind us when we got inside the lift. I probably sounded like an idiot but Seamus and I kept the conversation up because I always get second-hand embarrassment when people stop talking if Potter walks by or joins the lift.”

Hermione patiently listened to his ramblings, restraining herself from telling him to get to the point already.

Ron sipped on his tea and shook his head. “You know what? I read too much into this. Just realised that I’m acting exactly as everyone else does. What’s the big deal? Just a bloke who wants to have a pint after work.”

Hermione stared at Ron, expecting him to go on with his story, but he just kept sipping his tea.

“Ron!”

“What?”

“How did he ask you out?” She accidentally raised her voice but Hermione was finally losing her patience with him.

“I told you, he most likely-”

“Just tell me the damn story, already!” Hermione snapped, blushing a little when she noticed the people on the other tables giving her funny looks.

“Alright,” Ron said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Calm down, barmy woman.”

“You're the one marching into my office like a lunatic. Spill it! Now!”

With a heavy sigh, Ron continued with his story, curling his hands around the tea mug to keep from fidgeting.

“Seamus had already gotten off at another level, so it was just me and Potter in there. I tried to avoid the awkward silence, so I asked him if he followed Quidditch and was going to listen to or even watch the Tornados match tonight. He said that he does follow Quidditch and that he intended to listen to the match at home but if I'd be up to it, we could listen to it at this new pub that just opened in Diagon. He totally caught me by surprise, but I must've agreed because he told me he'll meet me at the fireplaces at 5. Then he left the lift. Then I freaked out and came to your office.”

Ron marked the end of his story by taking another sip of his tea before he defiantly crossed his arms in front of him.

“Jesus, Harry Potter actually asked you out! Oh my God!” Hermione almost squealed, grasping one of Ron's arms.

“Nah! I don't think so anymore. I bet he just wanted to have a pint and was only being polite when he asked me to come along,” Ron said. “Who'd ask someone out like that anyway?”

“Someone looking for a partner?”

“Yeah, but think about it, Hermione. Why would he ask me out? The guy is not only fucking famous, he's also devilishly handsome. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“So?”

Ron looked at Hermione as though she'd just declared the desire to live as a chicken.

“So? So, why would someone ask me out while on a random stroll through the Ministry? Who'd think ‘Oh, that freakishly tall ginger with more freckles than skin looks kinda awkwardly cute. Let's try to get a leg over?'"

“I dated you,” Hermione interjected.

“You don't count.”

“Well, thank you!” Her sarcasm was all but ignored by Ron.

“I just know I'll embarrass myself tonight,” Ron insisted, looking quite unhappy. “Let's go back to work. I still have to write that useless report.”

“Devilishly handsome, hm?”

“Shut up!”

**** **** **** ****

Harry didn't know what had possessed him to ask the cute ginger out for a pint.

Maybe it had been the Prophet article speculating for the umpteenth time about when the Savior of the Wizarding World would finally settle down and make some black-haired, green-eyed babies. Rita Skeeter had many ideas about what worthy witch could conquer the heart of Harry Potter. All things considered, the article had probably not been the worst thing written about him so far.

Sometimes he wondered if he should've taken Sirius’ advice to feed the press and public meaningless details of his life. It wouldn't stop the constant speculations and made-up affairs, but it probably would reduce the paparazzi following him around, the crazy fans sending him love letters and maybe, they would find something more newsworthy than where Harry Potter bought his toilet paper.

But he hated the fact that people demanded this from him. He was 29 now, and while the great hype about him was over, he still seemed to be interesting enough to write about, even over a decade after his defeat of Voldemort.

He knew the majority of the Wizarding World was sincerely grateful for what he'd done. There were so many parents thanking him for the simple fact that they're still alive and able to see their children grow up.

It reminded him that it was all worth it. The sacrifices, the nearly friendless childhood, his secret life away from the public, the growing up with the knowledge that he might not live long enough to celebrate his 17th birthday. All of that had resulted in ending Voldemort once and for all.

When he'd destroyed the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes though, Harry’s hope of finally living a normal life got crushed soon after. In the post-war world, it had been next to impossible to lead a life like everyone else. Because of his childhood and his training by Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody himself, he learned not to trust easily. And since occasions to make friends or interact with strangers had been few and far between, he never really learned what to look for in a friend.

He was well aware that he was complaining about a comfortable life. His parents had left him a respectable amount of gold, and Sirius bought him a flat in London after he graduated from Auror Academy. Maybe he'd gotten this job because of his fame and reputation, but he knew he deserved the position as Head Auror. There was hardly anyone with the same amount of training and experience he brought to the table, and he was under the impression the people working for him did genuinely like him as a boss. Two of them he even considered friends after all these years.

Aside from the two friends at work he also had his family. He had Sirius, Remus, Andromeda, Tonks and his godson, Teddy. He wasn't alone by any means, but he'd never met someone he could possibly fall in love with. Hell, aside from one of Tonks’ old friends from school and her father's attempts to set him up with several of his countless nieces—and later nephews when Harry told his family girls didn't do it for him—he'd never even dated. Toby—a fellow student from elementary school and the only friend his age—dragged him to Muggle pubs and clubs, resulting in the occasional snog or even a shag with a stranger. Needless to say, his first time hadn't exactly been romance novel material and it sure wasn't something he liked to think about. Sometimes, Harry feared that he would never fall in love, that he wasn't capable of developing those feelings for another person.

Those unpleasant thoughts combined with the Rita Skeeter article may have been the result of his sudden impulse to just go for it and ask the redhead out. But it also could have been the brilliant blue eyes, the kind, shy smile and the lean shoulders. Harry was sure, though, that the main reason for it had been the fact that this man hadn't treated him like a Messiah. It had just been an easy conversation, even if it had been only two minutes.

Harry hoped it would remain that way when they watched the game later. In fact, he could just brush it off as a friendly meeting with a fellow Ministry worker if Cute Ginger wasn't interested in anything more.

But when he thought about the redhead’s lopsided grin, Harry felt a foreign flutter in his stomach and he couldn't help but hope for more, even if it was just another visit to the pub.

**** **** **** ****

In the 30 years of Ron Weasley’s existence, he'd never been on time for something not work-related. Today, though, he was almost ten minutes early as he waited by the fireplaces for Harry Potter.

Again, he felt rather pathetic. For a hot second, he considered waiting in a nearby bathroom to pass the time, pretending to get to their meeting place just in time. But then he reminded himself that he wasn’t a petty teenager anymore, and even if Potter found it pathetic, Ron didn’t expect a repeat of tonight, anyway.

He decided to just treat this like a meet-up with Dean and Seamus every other Thursday after work. Just two guys, enjoying a couple of pints together, talking about Quidditch. Nothing special. Nothing to freak out over.

The atrium was busy as ever but he spotted Potter right away when the Head-Auror stepped out of the lift and made his way towards the fireplaces. He still wore his magenta work robes and Ron couldn't help but notice how sexy they looked on him.

“Hi!” Potter greeted Ron, smiling somewhat shyly. “Ready for some beer and Quidditch?”

“Sure! But I forgot to introduce myself earlier, so I figured I'd do that now,” Ron said, giving the dark haired man a smile in return, as he offered his hand for a proper introduction. “I'm Ron. Ron Weasley.”

“I'm Harry.”

**** **** **** ****

“No way! How did he get out of there?”

Harry barked out a laugh at Ron's tale of a night out with Seamus and Dean. His outburst was loud enough for the other guests of the pub to look in their direction. Ron found it amusing how a simple change into Muggle clothes, different glasses, and a slightly lighter hair colour resulted in no one recognizing the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Since it was a Muggle police station, Seamus had to spend the night there. Statute of Secrecy, and all. We picked him up the next morning and filled him in on what he'd done the night before, including showing everyone his pale arse.” Ron grinned deviously at the memory. “I invented some things for good measure. Unfortunately, Dean is too good for this world and told him a few hours later that I was taking the mickey.”

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “That reminds me of Remus searching the whole of London for Sirius, only to find him several hours later in a hidden spot on the roof. He was gazing at the stars and totally stoned. Combined with Firewhiskey, he didn't remember a single thing from that night.”

“Sirius?” Ron looked quite interested at the mention of his Godfather’s name. “Sirius, as in Sirius Black?”

“Yes. He was my Dad’s best friend. And he's my Godfather.”

“I'm just asking because I'm related to the Blacks. My grandfather married Cedrella Black.”

“Yes, I recognize the name. Her face got blasted off the family tree,” Harry said, and at Ron's raised eyebrow quickly added, “Sirius’ mother blasted everyone off that tree who didn't uphold the Black family's motto ‘Toujours pur’. So, Cedrella must have gone against the high and mighty Black Pureblood tradition.”

“Well,” Ron said, taking a swig of his beer, “she married a Weasley. I'm sure that alone was reason enough to disown her. The Weasleys have been notorious blood traitors since forever.”

“Sounds like your grandmother had good taste in men if you ask me.”

Harry winked at Ron, and the redhead felt the burning blush creeping up his neck.

Ron was once again amazed at how little time it had taken him to lose his nervousness. But Harry Potter made it very easy for him. Harry was confident, yet humble and polite. His humor didn't have Ron's sarcastic edge, but the redhead found Harry delightfully witty with a good amount of sass.

Ron didn't know what he expected but it was undeniable how easy it was to talk to Harry. He could only hope the raven-haired man enjoyed this just as much as he did. Harry laughed at his jokes and seemed genuinely interested in Ron's more-than-mundane life.

As much as Ron tried to see this as a meeting with a good friend, he couldn't help the warm feeling in his chest every time Harry smiled at him or his leg accidentally bumped against Ron's. And if the alcohol hadn't gone to his head already, making him imagine things, Harry's eyes kept flitting down to Ron's lips.

When the woman behind the bar announced the final round, they decided to call it a night since it was one of Harry's work Saturdays tomorrow.

As they ventured out of the crowded pub and into the cool night air, Ron was disappointed about the evening coming to an end. Time had flown and he was sure they could've talked for several more hours.

“Would you mind if I walk you home?” Harry asked just as Ron wanted to wish him a good night.

Ron nodded, not being able to suppress his smile as Harry obviously remembered him mentioning that he only lived a few blocks away.

They kept their pace slow and walked a little closer to each other than necessary, their hands bumping against one another. Every touch sent a jolt through Ron's body and he wanted nothing more than to take Harry's hand.

Eventually, they reached their destination. During the entire walk home Ron had gathered all of his Gryffindor courage to ask Harry out, this time for an official date.

“I- um,” Ron started, rubbing one hand against the back of his neck to ease his nerves. “I really enjoyed this evening and I was wondering...Maybe I got this all wrong, but you seem interested, and well, I'm interested too. And if you're not, that's totally fine. But...caniseeyouagain?”

And before Ron's face had the time to go completely crimson, he got his answer as Harry took his hand to pull him close, leaned up and kissed him.

Harry pulled back from Ron's lips, his stunning, green eyes slightly darker than usual and holding a hopeful glint.

Ron didn't give himself the chance to overthink as he put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and kissed him again. A deep groan escaped him when Harry licked at Ron's bottom lip and Harry took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ron was positive that he'd never experienced something more incredible than kissing Harry Potter. The only things he was capable of paying attention to were Harry and the wild thumping of his heart. And while it was exhilarating and new and positively made him weak in the knees, it also felt a lot like coming home.

Having lost all sense of time, Ron couldn't tell if they'd kissed for a minute or several hours when they broke apart. Harry's hands still gripped his shirt and Ron let his own hands glide from Harry's dark hair down over strong, well-defined shoulders to finally rest at his hips.

Both of them tried to catch their breath and Harry, who finally let go of Ron's shirt to put his arms around him, smiled up at Ron almost shyly.

“Yes, you can see me again,” Harry said, grinning.”What are your plans for tomorrow night?”

“Well,” Ron pretended to think about it for a second, “I thought I'd do this.”

And with that, he leaned in to kiss Harry again.

“I think that's a brilliant idea.”

**** **** **** ****

Just as he turned off the radio and grabbed his coat from the rag beside the door, a loud knock sounded through Harry's now quiet flat.

“Ten minutes early. Eager, aren't we?” Harry said as he opened the door for a tall ginger with a picnic basket in one hand and a broom in the other.

“Says the one waiting right beside the door like a good dog.”

Ron shoved his way inside, putting down the basket and broom before pulling Harry into his arms.

“Happy Birthday,” Ron murmured against the other man's lips. “And I thought I was supposed to give you a present, not the other way around?”

Harry pulled back a little, apparently confused. Ron grinned at him and squeezed Harry's arse. “Thanks for wearing my favourite pants today.”

Chuckling, Harry pointed at the broom Ron had brought with him. “No way I'll fly on a broom in these. Good thing I also packed my joggers.”

Ron hadn't told him where they were going for Harry's Birthday. He'd just instructed Harry to be ready at 9 in the morning, so they'd be back in time for dinner at Grimmauld Place with Harry's family.

Only two months had passed since their first kiss, but Harry already felt as though he'd known Ron for much longer. Every kiss, every touch, all the teasing and banter, and late night talks felt so completely natural, yet blissfully exciting.

“Come on, grab your broom. We're on a tight schedule.”

Ron winked at him and before Harry knew it, they were standing in the middle of a giant Quidditch pitch.

There wasn't a single soul besides them, but Harry immediately recognized the giant Hogwarts House banners from his family's keepsakes of their school years. Aside from that fateful day when he'd fought Voldemort on those grounds, he'd never visited the school. Not before, not after.

Harry tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. The surprise must be the result of one of their late night talks, when Harry confessed that his deepest desire while growing up had been to go to Hogwarts.

“Are we allowed to be here or do I need to arrest you for breaking into school grounds?”

Arms wrapped around him from behind and Harry could feel Ron smiling against the back of his head. “I wouldn't be opposed to playing the big bad Auror and the naughty Suspect later, but this is actually 100% legal. Having contacts with important Quidditch officials has its perks sometimes. And my annual chess game against McGonagall helped too, I suppose.”

“Okay then,” Harry said, lifting one of Ron's hands to his mouth to brush his lips against his knuckles. “Fill me in on that plan of yours.”

Ron let go of him and reached for their brooms, tossing one of them at Harry. “I thought we'd fly over the grounds first, so I can show you everything from above. The castle looks fucking amazing from up there and the Great Lake is a sight to die for when the water reflects the sun.”

Ron mounted his broom and flew in slow circles around Harry as he continued to talk. “I hope you don't mind that I invited your family for dinner. But I thought we could all show you the castle, introduce you to our favourite spots and secret places. Andromeda can show us the Slytherin common room. I've never been there myself. I'll show you the kitchen first. That's where I'll cook dinner later while the others show you around.”

Jumping down from his broom, Ron looked at Harry with a mixture of excitement and reluctance as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was a telltale sign of the redhead being nervous, Harry had learned in the last weeks.

“So, I thought this to be fitting for a 30th Birthday. I wasn't sure what to get you that you don't already have, and I reckoned this might be fun.”

Harry didn't know what to say and his silence only made Ron doubt his plan more. It always baffled Harry how Ron didn't realize how wonderful he was. He wished Ron could see himself through Harry's eyes.

Right at that moment, as Harry looked into Ron's blue eyes, it hit him. In fact, he knew he'd been harbouring these feelings inside him for weeks now, but only now he could see it with shining clarity.

He was falling in love.

The feeling was new, something he'd never experienced, but still he recognized it for what it was.

 Love.

***

[sweetestlamb]

Yoga

Summary: Vincenzo hides his jealousy as well as he hides being part of the mafia.

Author's note: it was supposed to be a cute jealous yoga story I don't know why this ended in angst 😂😂😂 I really need to get my life together. Also Vincenzo rubbed me the wrong way today and some people are trying to convince me that I'm interpreting the show incorrectly and explaining to me why it didn't offend them and why everything was fine and I just need you to know, my opinion isn't changing but listen if you had a great time today watching the episode please don't let me stop you. I don't need anyone to be outraged with me. I'll be mad all by myself I promise! But just to be clear my problem was the creation of yet another gay character who an awful person in a kdrama. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen gay characters not be predators or abusive.

Anywho I give you jealous aerial yoga fun that ends in man pain!

He probably believes that he's being inconspicuous again, hiding this side of him as well as he'd thought he was hiding being a member of the mafia. But he's just as obvious as he always is in her eyes, much like her he's too theatrical to ever really conceal how he's feeling. He talks too much and reveals his cards too easily- especially to her.

He's attracted to her that much is painfully evident, if her father's nosy assistant hadn't interrupted they would have kissed. She would have been laid across the table and taken apart, his eyes promised a great time as he devoured her. She was just as attracted to him, she wouldn't have stopped him from doing whatever he wanted.

It is getting more difficult to ignore the quiet moments though, when she can feel his eyes on her and it's not sexual at all. He's just looking at her and she feels bare, naked.

Those moments scare her in a way she hasn't felt before. Ergo she presses them deep, deep into the dark corners of her brain behind all the different ways that she has concocted to throw off others, she's used to being strange and having men overlook her for it.

She's never been what others would consider "sexy". But then he appears and suddenly men seem to see her in a new light. Or maybe he brings her attention to it.

It all begins at the coffee shop, they've made a habit of starting their mornings together by getting coffee. She doesn't analyze what exactly they're doing but some may consider it a date, she hasn't giving the outings a title there's no need to.

She feels comfortable with him and he hasn't been resistant to her pushing her way into his life. She has always been like this, too much and overbearing. Usually it drives people away and she pretends that it doesn't hurt that she's something that people need in doses, she's heard that so often that it's etched in her brain.

Friends in college, boyfriends and her colleagues to name a few.

But for some reason he keeps coming back for more doses, regularly smiling at her shenanigans even egging on her antics with full body laughs.

So he'd taken her to get coffee grinning once again as she dragged her caffeine deprived body dramatically like a puppet with its strings cut to the counter, plopping herself on the surface before crying out, "If I don't get a large sewage water in five minutes my death will be on your hands!" The barista behind the counter grinned over at her, used to her dramatics. He was young, barely nineteen and he'd tried his hand at flirting with her a few times. She had promptly laughed in his face the first time, spewing coffee everywhere before strutting out of the shop.

Laughing and punching a stranger in the arm, ignoring the loud "Hey! What are you doing," before she danced down the sidewalk, hand on her hip as she flipped her hair before shouting to the sky, "I've still got it, baby!"

That day he had glanced at Vincenzo before walking over to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I didn't realize I had so much power over you. What if I say I won't give it to you unless you let me take you on a date?" She remembered her eyes widening in shock and then disbelief and finally landing on bemusement, he was persistent she would give him that much but she was no cougar so his flirting was futile.

She opened her mouth to let him down easy- laugh in his face again and remind him that he had to be this old to ride her ride but suddenly her Italian was leaning across the counter, all cool lines with a deadly smile on his face.

With a his deep voice he chillingly said, "If you don't give it to her your death will be on my hands."

There was heavy silence.

He continued, "I know how to kill a man with only a coffee cup and a string."

The barista, Heon, stared at Vincenzo with all of the blood draining from his youthful face. She didn't blame him the man did sound unnervingly serious and the look in his eyes was a little too real to be purely acting. Plus there was conveniently a coffee cup and a string right there on the table, it was an oddly specific thing to say.

Then after a pregnant pause, he started laughing loudly filling the entire shop like a mad man and she looked over at him as if he had lost his damn mind but this was her favorite coffee shop, she couldn't be banned so she started laughing with him, guffawing and pushing the idiot on the shoulders.

"He's just joking! HahaHAHAHA, laugh it was a joke! LAUGH!!" She leaned across the counter to pat the scared boy on the back but then Vincenzo leaned into her, draping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her back until she was no longer touching him. His laughter static and too robotic to be anything other than a hoax.

She'd never seen anyone brew coffee that fast before. It was impressive what a person could do when they felt as if their life was in danger she'd thought, she gave him a generous tip before leaving.

Heon mysteriously stopped working when they would normally come to the coffee, another barista informed her that he had switched his hours. A certain Italian was really cheerful upon hearing the news, whistling an unknown tune as he sipped his tiny cup of espresso- double shot, traipsing away with a pep in his step and the wind beneath his suit coat.

His random violent outbursts continued.

Bartenders. Businessmen. Traffic officers. Other lawyers. A librarian who had flirtatiously whispered that she wouldn't need to be quiet when they were alone. Suddenly there were men everywhere and she was the hottest thing on the menu, her lower back probably had an imprint of his hand by now from all the times he would steer her away from her suitors.

Every time his excuses were the same, "I'm just protecting you. Guys like that are scum, you deserve better."

Well the one she wanted had no intention of staying so why was he blocking anyone else from trying?

Thinking about it makes her chest feel tight and she welcomes the weekend, she has booked an aerial yoga class to release some of the stress and tension just being around the Italian causes.

It's a warm day so she dons a small set, a light blue sports bra with matching shorts throwing a light jacket over in case the temperature drops at the end of the day. Looking in the mirror she scoops her hair into a low ponytail, pushing back baby hairs that frame her face.

She swipes a thin layer of chapstick across her dry lips before grabbing her phone, keys, gym membership card and her gym bag with a change of clothes.

The drive to the studio is short, she listens to BlackPink on the radio happily screaming about her dududududu complete with car choreo that consists of arm shakes and a lot of hair whipping. It's another miraculous day where she does not cause a car accident, she gives herself a high five for the small victory.

She parks her car haphazardly driving onto the sidewalk several times before getting it right. With a satisfied sigh she hops out of her car, opening the back door and bending over to grab her gym bag.

"Cha-young ah?"

A familiar voice surprises her and she jumps bumping her head into the roof of her car with a cry, she drops the gym bag and leans out of the car rubbing her throbbing head with a pained grimace.

Vincenzo is standing in front of her, in what is the most casual outfit she has ever seen him wear. A pair of navy blue sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt and expensive looking black sneakers, leave it to him to wear Balenciagas when trying to look casual.

Her mouth becomes very dry as she takes in the unexpected but very much welcome sight.

Shaking herself out of her stupor she raises an eyebrow at him, "What are you doing here?" She asks once again leaning into her car to retrieve her gym bag. When she turns around slamming the door shut she watches Vincenzo peel his eyes away, quickly looking away from her direction.

Had he been checking her out?

She smirks at the thought before openly checking him out. Eyes perusing his body up and down in a slow and thorough examination.

"Are you checking me out?" He asks amused as he folds his arms across his chest, making his already impressive biceps look even bigger and more enticing. She knows exactly what he's doing, he's about as subtle as a bulldozer.

"Yes, I am. Do you need me to turn around again so you can check me out?" She laughs easily as he sputters and tries to deny her claims, once he realizes that she doesn't believe a word he's saying he finally stops, admitting defeat.

"Those are...great shorts." He drawls, gone is the embarrassed act. Now he's freely eying her shorts clad body, eyes hot as they trail up and down her legs.

Shaking her head she smiles at him, "You never answered my question. What are you doing here?" He struts over to her prying her gym bag from her hand and throwing it over his free shoulder. She tries not to get too affected by his sudden closeness, his cologne filling her nostrils with the fresh earthy musk.

"My gym is here. I came to work out. You look like you had the same idea, you should have called me." There he goes again, making space for himself in her life although he has no intention of staying with her. It was cruel and she knows she should cut him off before it's too late.

"I don't think you'll be interested in what I'm doing." She answers walking ahead, holding the gym door open for him. They both show their card to the attendant at the front and the young worker smiles at her before saying, "Your aerial yoga class will be starting in five minutes. It's best to go early and secure a good spot."

She can see Vincenzo's questioning face in her peripheral but she ignores him to nod at the younger woman, tugging her bag off his shoulder and nodding at him in dismissal.

"Enjoy your work out." She climbs the stairs leading to the huge studio where the aerial classes are held. His eyes are like lasers on her back and she already knows that he's going to follow her, he's too intrigued to stay away. That's what she was banking on.

She would get him back for all his jealous tantrums this past week. There were so many places they were probably going to be banned from and all because he didn't know how to play well with others. She's wasn't some toy he could claim. Especially when she couldn't claim him back.

Finding a spot in the corner she puts her bag down on one of the mats that are provided, taking a few moments to do some light stretches. She bends over touching her toes before dipping her head and elongating her neck, then she does a few squats and jumping jacks just to get her blood pumping and her heart racing.

She can feel the exact moment that he comes, it also helps that all the women gasp and she can hear coy giggles about their new guest. She pretends not to notice him, stretching backwards into a perfect handstand holding it for a few minutes before tilting back and planting her feet until she's upright again. She almost loses her composure when she catches his expression in the large windows.

He looks shocked and aroused, neck redder than normal.

All the women settle down when the instructor comes to the front of the room, they have reached the point where he no longer shows them what to do instead he walks around the room correcting their form and giving tips or words of encouragement.

He's a beautiful man, with mocha colored skin and a lean muscled build and the most gorgeous head of coily hair. She has been coming here for months and they've become quite closer as they have a lot in common, most importantly they both love men. When they had run into each other and realized they were staring at the same guy's ass, it was love at first ogle.

When he comes over to greet her she immediately steps into his space with a mischievous grin. Sean grins back looking exasperated already but he still says, "What are you up to? I know that smile Ms. Cha-young." She leans closer certain that Vincenzo is avidly watching her every move. Trailing a finger up his thick bicep she whispers, "Nine o clock, don't look but I need your help to teach him a lesson. Are you up to it?"

Sean starts to turn his head before processing her order and stopping, he stares at her before a devilish look gleams in his bright eyes too.

"You know I'm always up." He replies voice full of innuendos and she fake swoons, bringing her hand to her forehead. "Don't tease me."

He chuckles at her before walking back to the front of the room, none of the other women react to their flirtations used to their antics and everyone already knows that Sean is as gay as the pride flag. Everyone except one fuming Italian.

She can feel his waves of anger crashing across the room and she tugs at the cloth in front of her testing the weight before easily hoisting herself up, letting it cup her bottom as her feet dangle.

She's ready to put on a show.

He hadn't stalked her per se, he'd merely overheard one of the tenants say that they'd seen Cha-young in a nearby studio on weekends so he'd went to see if she really did go there. And then there she was bent over in her car, pert little bottom sticking out the car and he wanted nothing more than to smack the flesh and watch it bounce and jiggle under his hand.

This was why he was so protective, not jealous. Protective. She was too careless with her body and there were salacious men out there ready to take advantage of that, she needed someone like him who had a pure heart to look out for her.

He was allowed to fantasize about spanking her while having a pure heart, it was called having duality.

So he'd followed her into the gym, a little peeved when she abandoned him without a word to attend something called "aerial yoga", he knew regular yoga and if it was anything like that he was very much interested.

In watching her do it.

Turning to the young worker who had been staring a hole in his face, he sent her a charismatic smile before leaning nonchalantly on the counter, he could tell that he had her full attention by the way her mouth fell open.

He almost felt bad, she seemed a bit wet behind the ears. But he wasn't really trying to seduce her so it was fine, he wasn't some old creepy predator.

"Hey, that aerial yoga class am I allowed to watch it? I want to see if it's something I might be interested in." He lies to the younger woman, watching her process his words before answering.

"Well technically that class is restricted for those who signed up..." She trails off looking at him and he smiles brightly, pushing his curly hair off his forehead he had forgo his products today and the way her eyes follow his fingers make him thankful that he did so. "But you won't do any harm by watching, I'm sure it'll be fine. Go on up." She finishes and he throws a mental fist pump, he still had it.

Outwardly he smiles serenely, thanking her before walking up the stairs that Cha-young just disappeared up. It leads to a spacious studio with a wall of gleaming mirrors and huge bay windows overlooking the city. He looks around before his eyes land on her, the reason why he's here.

He swallows a groan as he watches her stretch that slim gently curvy body, she's all smooth lines and feminine appeal. When she starts squatting he can't help but watch those firm cheeks tensing and tightening, he lazily leans back hungrily watching her.

Then he almost swallows his tongue when she bends backwards into a perfect bridge before lifting herself into a handstand, damn she was strong and deliciously flexible. Looking her in the eye was going to be even more difficult now.

His heckles raise when he sees another man approaching her suddenly, a Black man who seems way too familiar with his Cha-young based on the way they both grin and invade the others space. He sneers as he watches them whisper and grin at each other, who was this guy and why were they so close? He releases a sigh of relief when the man finally backs up, going to the front of the room before pressing a button and light soothing music begins to play.

He must be the instructor then. Wonderful. He prays that was the end of the unnecessary touching and standing too close to his lawyer. He doesn't want to have to make a scene.

It isn't the end. Not by a long shot.

The instructor who had introduced himself as Sean easily walked around, stopping every once in a while to correct someone or praise them for having good form. The ladies would preen and thank him and that was it, he would nod before moving on.

Cha-young was the only exception to this rule.

He watches mesmerized as the limber lawyer bends herself into a graceful pose that resembles a swan and he can't fight the images that start flashing in his mind of them in bed, her twisting around him with pieces of cloth. Tying him up and showing him just how flexible she is all night long until they both sore and sated.

When she suddenly releases the cloth and starts tumbling to the ground he finds himself jumping into action shoving the fantasy to the crevice of his mind, legs already moving to catch her before she saves herself with her ankles, her body swinging freely with her face only inches from the floor. His heart skips a beat before it starts chugging along again.

Why was she always worrying him?

"That was perfect Cha-young! You've finally let go of your fear of falling!" Sean praises her walking over and patting her legs, but he doesn't let go after the quick touch. He keeps those grabby hands on her thigh and helps her back up onto the cloth, he thinks that will be the end of it. He's wrong.

He moves her body into a new pose with the cloth wrapped around her shoulder and he glares when a hand runs down her back precariously close to her bottom before rolling back up. He pushes her gently on the cloth harness and she laughs gleefully before she whispers something to the instructor, it's hard to read her lips from this distance but he can make out, "with me."

He understands what she asked for when Sean nods and moves into position.

Sean wraps his arms around the same cloth and suddenly lifts himself off the ground, his face level with her groin and he wants to go over and rip the cloth from the ceiling and strangle the man with it. Then Sean pulls himself up and Cha-young slides out of her seated position, grabbing the cloth too until they're face to face and spinning in lazy hypnotic circles. They both have huge grins on their faces as they move together in perfect harmony, the last straw comes when she wraps her legs around his waist and their bodies are pressed together- he sees blazing red and disconcerting white and then finally pitch black.

He's fleeing before he's even aware of it. Bounding down the stairs, two steps at a time then shoving the entrance door open and letting the surge of cool air ease his anger. If he stayed another second the instructor would be dangling out the window much like that thug before except he wasn't sure if he would be able to pull him back up.

Why was he so anger? She'd looked fine, happy even. She clearly wasn't being taken advantage of. But his rage is bursting at the seams and he jolts when a hand suddenly grips his wrist. Instinctively he turns grabbing the person and slamming them into the nearby wall.

Cha-young looks up at him, face flushed and sweaty.

That will also be burned into his retina.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me." He warns taking deep breaths to suppress some of the frustration he feels looking at her, the memory still fresh in his mind.

"What's wrong with you?" She counters bringing her hands to his shoulders rubbing in a calming motion, "You look pissed. Did something happen?"

He watches her for a second, taking her in seemingly harmless question and recalls her legs wrapped around another man who wasn't him and he wants to punch that fucking handsy instructor right in his smug fac--

Wait.

She was smiling. No, smirking. Right up at him like she knew everything that was racing through his head.

He'd been played.

"Did you have fun?" He asks voice laced with snarkiness and he shoves her harder into the wall, red hot fury brewing in the pit of his stomach. She knew that he was part of the mafia but still acted like this. Did she not have any sense of self preservation?

"Were you jealous?" She asks in a ostentatiously cutesy voice like this is all a hilarious joke and he wants to kiss that damn smug look right off her face. No one has ever dared to treat him like this, acted like he was a joke.

She's playing with fire and he's not opposed to burning her up.

"Do you still think you have the upper hand right now?" He looms over her pushing his pelvis into her and she squeaks at the hardness that pokes into her. To his surprise she eagerly presses back, pulling him in by his waist until they are flushed chest to chest. He doesn't know if an upper hand exists anymore.

"Yes. I do, getting to see you jealous was the highlight of my day. Cute little jealous mafia lawyer."

He snarls at her feeling stupid because of how easily she can play him, and without thinking he wraps his arms around her.

"You looked really cozy with him."

She sniffs before pouting at him, "Yeah and you didn't fight for me at all. Where were the death threats and cold glares? Sean would have pissed his pants." Her giggles only make him angrier because she's seen through him all along.

He stares at her blankly before throwing caution to the wind and leaning down to capture her tempting lips, he runs a hand through her ponytail tugging her head closer to him and she moves easily with him standing on her tiptoes. He closes his eyes ready to put himself out of his misery when he feels a finger in his lips, he blinks his eyes open staring at her perplexed and a bit offended.

"What?"

"Are you staying in Korea?" She talks over him, her finger firm on his mouth.

They both stare at each other and her question spins in his busy mind, thoughts too full of her seductive moves earlier and how badly he wanted to destroy anyone who dared to look at her. He doesn't know why that question is coming up now, at this particular moment when he just wants to kiss her breathless. They can leave the rational thoughts for later, right now there should be more frenzied kissing. But when he tries to push her finger away she grabs his face hard, adamant.

He stares at her and finally he sees the chinks in her armor, gone is the overly confident Cha-young that he's so used to seeing and there's something softer in that stead, the vulnerability that always shrouds over her eyes when they have this reoccurring conversation is back and it leaves him feeling cornered as it always does.

He can't answer that question. The answer should be easy and it had been before her. He was going to take his gold and get the fuck out of this God forsaken country.

That had been the plan pre: Cha-young.

Now that plan was muddled and he could admit that he was jealous of other men stealing her away from him, at least to himself. Could admit that he wanted to wreck her completely, have her screaming in his bed those nimble limbs wrapped around him as he thrust into her over and over and over. But he wasn't ready to admit that he might feel something more than just intense attraction to her. That she had changed all his plans and made him consider settling down, with her. It was insane, he barely knew her and they weren't even in a relationship.

"No. I told you, I'm leaving."

He's a coward. He can admit that too.

She sends him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes before ducking under his arms.

"Then leave and don't confuse me. I'm not yours to get jealous over. I'll see you Monday."

She doesn't look back, walking straight to her car and speeding away without checking any of her mirrors as she's wont to do despite him constantly reprimanding her for it, he's certain she's over the speed limit.

He punches the wall with a yell, the pain in his fist nothing compared to the pain in his chest. It was a huge mistake coming back here.

[aceofshitposts]

Happy Valentines Day everyone!!! This wasnt actually what I initially planned and it technically... isn’t v-day themed but it DOES feature idiots in love so that’s good enough, right? No beta we die like robins okay hope you enjoy! (will probably throw this up on ao3 tomorrow too)

ALSO a reminder that you can totally send me prompts for little drabbles/ficlets!! a sentence or dialogue or just an au you think might be cool (i adore aus) or if you just wanna say hi!

-

Jason's not stupid. It's just that. Things can sneak up on you sometimes, okay? They all have that habit of getting lost in the details or not looking for what isn’t expected. And boy, is this not expected.

"Please," Tim is imploring in the same tone a child asks their parent for a candy bar at the grocery store checkout, "Bruce isn't even going to be there so you don't have to worry about him."

That's. Really not the problem. The problem is Jason has no idea why Tim is asking him, of all people. Not that he doesn't like hanging out with Tim, as a matter of fact he probably likes it too much. Seeking Tim out had become a bad habit, if he’s honest, that has escalated from working on cases together to eating meals after patrol and even occasionally meeting up during the day to whisk Tim away from the office for a proper lunch.

They're friends, right? But that doesn't explain why Tim is inviting him to an important social gathering and not, say, one of the Titans if he needs a second that badly. Hell, Dick or Stephanie are better choices than Jason is. Asking Jason is. Is. It’s-

It feels a little like Tim’s asking him on a date. Which is absurd for all kinds of reasons, least of which is that Tim doesn’t like Jason like that.

"Why are you asking me?"

Jason winces. That sounded harsh even to him and the way Tim’s expression goes from distinctly hurt to completely closed off has Jason cringing even more.

“Okay,” Tim says, turning towards the open window.

“Okay?” Jason repeats, already forgetting that Tim hasn’t answered his question.

“Mhmm, don’t worry about it,” he says in a tone that suggests Jason should absolutely worry about it.

With that Tim slips out the window and into the early Gotham morning, leaving Jason with an extra breakfast burrito that they’d never even got around to eating before Tim had… whatever the hell that had been. Jason stares at the open window for a moment more, the wind blowing a napkin into his face, and decides he’ll deal with it after sleeping.

-

“What the hell did you do??”

If the sound of Jason’s bedroom door violently hitting the wall didn’t wake Jason up then Stephanie’s indigent yelling would have done the job just fine.

“What the hell do you want?” Jason asks, then shoves a pillow over his head in the vain hopes she will go away.

“Get up!”

The covers are pulled from his body which wouldn’t be so bad if this didn’t also give Stephanie better access to punch him squarely in the stomach. Jason snarls, leaping out of bed to tackle Stephanie to the floor. They grapple around on the floor for a while, Stephanie succeeding in nailing Jason in the throat with an elbow and pinning him to the floor.

“What,” she says pointedly, “did you do to Tim??”

Jason wheezes, only half due to the pressure still on his throat. Stephanie stares down at him furiously.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jason says hoarsely. 

Stephanie’s eyes narrow.

“Well, you better figure it out because he showed up at my apartment and has spent the entire morning moping under my blankets and obsessively redesigning Redbird on his tablet.”

Stephanie gets up in one smooth motion then offers a hand to help pull Jason up from the floor. Jason rubs at his sore throat giving Stephanie an incredulous look.

“I dunno what his problem is; he asked me to some fancy dinner and I just asked why he wasn’t asking you or whatever-”

“You what?”

“What! What did I do?”

“What did you do??” Stephanie shrieks in lieu of answering the question. “You have to be joking.”

When Jason just stares at her for a good minute Stephanie’s expression breaks and she starts laughing.

“Oh my god, please tell me you got dosed with something from Ivy or took a blow to the head recently,” she wheezes through her laughter. “Oh, noo, this is too stupid.”

“If you’ve figured out whatever is going on, could you clue me in?” Jason implores which only makes Stephanie laugh harder.

“Nope!” she says, popping the P, “this is too fucking funny. You’re on your own, bro.”

Before Stephanie leaves she makes sure to steal some of Jason’s leftovers and laugh at him some more, giving a two fingered salute as she leaves through the same window Tim had earlier that morning.

Over the course of the day Jason tries to busy himself cleaning his weapons and kitchen but he just end up stewing in the echoes of Stephanie’s laughter. He’s slumped on the couch rereading the same paragraph of a random paperback he’d grabbed when around four in the afternoon he receives a text from Cass that’s just a smiley face. It’s the only warning he gets before Tim comes stumbling through his window, laptop tucked under his arm.

“Okay, so, I’m still mad at you,” Tim starts, which is great, “but I want you to watch this.”

He sets his laptop down on Jason’s coffee table and maybe Jason can finally find out what this is all about.

On Tim’s laptop screen he opens what looks like a power-point presentation, and isn’t that just incredibly Tim, with the title: “Reasons We Make A Good Couple and Shouldn’t Break Up”.

Wait-

Back up.

“Break up??” Jason asks incredulously.

Tim’s head whips around to look at Jason, the slide on the screen changing to a picture of the two of them in uniform at the local 24 hour diner, probably taken by the waitress and posted on some social media platform, Tim reaching across the table to snag a piece of Jason’s bacon. It’s got several heart emojis all over it.

“You- yes? Isn’t that?” Tim sputters suddenly turning a bright shade of red.

“To break up don’t we have to date first?” Jason asks in a rush before his brain has really caught up with the situation.

Tim gets impossibly more red, muttering, “oh my fucking god,” while slamming the laptop shut. He runs a hand through his hair, looking as nervous and off kilter as Jason currently feels.

“I’m. I’m so sorry, Jay, I thought-” Tim starts rambling, words flowing together into an incoherent string while Jason’s brain tries desperately to parse what’s happening.

Like a lightbulb finally turning on in the middle of the night, Jason understands.

“Tim. Are we dating?”

Tim stops, jaw audibly snapping shut. He looks at Jason for all of two seconds before his gaze darts away miserably, looking at the floor.

“Yes?” he ventures, sounding unsure. “I just. I assumed you wanted to take it slow.”

Jason can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes his throat.

“Do I look like I do anything slow, Babybird?”

Tim growls in frustration, throwing his hands in the air and then pointing an accusing finger at Jason.

“We go out all the time! I hang out in your apartment! But whenever I’d try to initiate something more, you’d back off! I was trying to be considerate!”

Oh holy shit. Stephanie is right, this is stupid. Jason had thought he’d been projecting his own desires onto Tim, that there was no way Tim would want to be close to him like that. Even after all this time, Tim still finds ways to surprise Jason.

“Well, this explains why Stephanie punched and then started laughing at me this morning,” Jason laughs while draping an arm over his eyes. They really were Batman’s kids if their complete inability to communicate like normal people was anything to go by.

“God, Jason, I am so sorry,” Tim says, dropping down beside Jason on the couch with an oof. “I never should have assumed anything.”

“Hey, Babybird?” Jason shuffles over so he can throw his arm over Tim’s shoulders.

Tim startles, looking at Jason with wide blue eyes.

“Shut up and let me kiss you.”

Yeah, okay, maybe sometimes Jason is stupid. But he can at least find solace in the knowledge that sometimes Tim is also. Besides that, Jason tells himself, what really matters is that they got their shit together in the end. Even if that realization is undoubtedly going to come with a large amount of their family all pointing and laughing at them for being idiots.

“So,” Tim ventures after they’ve spent half an hour making out on Jason’s couch, “does this mean you’ll come with me to the dinner?”

Jason muffles a laugh against Tim’s collarbone and says, “yeah, sure I’ll come.”

“Okay, cool, cool. We’ve got to be there in an hour then.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Cruelty of man

The command bunker was a flurry of activity as aides and military personnel shuffled between consoles. At the center of the room was a large tactical display table surrounded by commanders discussing the recent deployments of new troops and enemy positions when the doors to the command center burst open. At the noise the guards to either side quickly drew their weapons and trained it on the door until they saw who had entered and dropped to one knee. 

“YURI!!!!”

Royal prince Marsov stormed into the room and made straight for the tactical display. His stride carried him so quickly that he knocked aside aides who had been kneeling before him out of the way as if a child kicking a can down the road. 

“YURI!” The prince continued shouting, “WHERE ARE YOU!?”

The commanders around the tactical display parted aside and revealed the human who had taken command of the war front from the prince. He stood atop a wooden stack of pallets so he could see the display and under any normal circumstance would be comical any other time were it not for how feared the human was by the rest of the command staff. 

The aliens surrounding him stood nearly twice his height making most interactions with the species initially challenging as everything they had was intended for far larger use. 

Yuri continued observing the tactical map, making a few notes and passing them to nearby aides, completely ignoring Marsov’s outbursts.  Maros slammed his fist into the table  making the holographic image shake violently for a few moments before readjusting.  “What is the meaning of this?!” 

“I am not psychic, prince.” Yuri said as he passed another note to an aide and motioned him away with a flick of his hand. “You must elaborate what exactly is troubling you.” 

Yuri’s calmness only seemed to enrage Marsov even more. 

“When you took control of this war away from me you said you would run it better.”  “Yes, I remember.” 

“That was two months ago! What have you done since then!?” 

Yuri set down his note pad and looked up at the prince. Though humans were far shorter than the prince’s species Yuri’s presence was so intense that it made seem as if he was the one towering over them. 

“I have been continuing the war in a manner that will result in our victory.” 

Marov’s laugh at the answer was as loud as it was fulled with a mocking tone. “You have launched only one offensive a week while ordering our special forces to gather enemy equipment, wasting their potential greatly!” 

“These are parts of a much larger plan.” Yuri said as he crossed his fingers and rested his chin on them. 

“A plan that is failing!” Marsov waived his hand and the tactical display altered itself. The image was an aerial view of the front lines with both sides trenches facing each other. 

“Each attack you launched was preluded to by a massed artillery bombardment of smoke. Smoke that i would point out completely ineffective. 

Waving another hand a smaller visualization of the enemy soldier. “Their helmets allow them to see through the smoke with high density filters built into their helmets. The filters remove the smoke particles so they don’t even hinder the enemy soldiers!”

“Yes, I know this because I ordered our special forces to capture in tact enemy gear from the battlefield.” 

Marsov choked on his next words but quickly recovered. 

“You promised a great victory but since you have taken command we have seen nothing.” Marsov turned the surrounding commanders. “Perhaps my father underestimated your abilities.” 

The commanders looked back to Yuri who still clasped his fingers, his expression uncaring as if the insult just made against him meant nothing. 

“Great victories are not won in a single day, but planned out down to the very second.” Yuri stood and hopped down from the pallets and began walking away. 

“Tomorrow I will show you what a great victory truly means.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following day the commanders all gathered in the command bunker for the upcoming battle. 

Yuri stood on the wooden pallets while the prince sat on his command throne overlooking the entire room. 

The entire length of the opposite wall showed live feeds from the battlefront as the team leaders moved through the trenches checking on their soldiers. 

Tapping the tactical display table Yuri drew the attention of the room. 

“Today, we will launch a full scale along the entire front.” Pointing to the display it showed several dozen friendly arrows moving across no-man’s land into the enemy trenches. 

“From there we will continue pressing the advantage until we have overrun their forward command bunkers and captured the supply depots at the far rear of their lines.”

The display showed several fortified locations several dozen miles behind the current enemy lines.

“If you believe we can penetrate so far with this attack why stop there?” Marsov scoffed. Yuri nodded as if he had just been asked a question from his favorite student. “As tempting as it would be to continue the offensive we must be mindful of our manpower and supplies. I have calculated that once we have reached the supply depots we will be at the near limit of a front we can successfully maintain. Any farther and we risk over stretching ourselves and risking counter attacks that could encircle entire army group and wipe them out.” 

“All well and good and all, but this attack depends entirely on if you can break the enemy front line to begin with.” 

“Rest assured, that will be the easiest part of the plan.” 

With that Yuri motioned to an aide and the screen turned to the face of a front line commander. “Are your troops prepared captain?” Yuri asked. 

“They are prepared; though i am not sure why we need this additional equipment.” Marsov’s eyes picked up at this but Yuri continued before he could press his questions. “You’re understanding is not required captain, only your loyalty and promise of victory.” 

The captain banged his fist and nodded his head. “Victory eternal.” he said before the line went dead. 

“Begin the bombardment and start the clock.” 

“Beginning bombardment now.” 

The roar of a thousand heavy artillery pieces could be faintly heard throughout the command bunker despite being so deep underground.   

“What is this clock you mentioned?” 

“It is the amount of time the soldiers must wait after the bombardment before commencing the attack.”

“Did your plan not call for speed to overrun the enemy?”

“It did.”

“Then why wait after the bombardment to attack? Why not launch at once.”

“Patience; you shall see.” 

An hour passed before the counter reached zero and Yuri ordered the attack to commence. 

The camera feeds of the soldiers were all over the screen. Pushing through the black smoke the feeds were blurry.  

Marsov watched intently. If the mission was a failure then Marsov could leverage the other commanders to shun the human and regain control of the army; but if it was successful he would still gain the credit but be stuck with the human even longer. 

Suddenly the camera toppled over and showed only ground. The soldier the feed belonged to scrambled back to their feet and raised their weapon at what they had fallen over as his comrades came by.  

Marsov saw the image and instantly stood up as the rest of the command staff let out gasps, some even vomiting on to the floor. 

Laying on the ground was an enemy soldier in full battle gear. To the casual eye the enemy soldier looked completely normal, as if they were fresh off the parade ground. That was until Marsov saw the face of the enemy. 

Beneath their clear helmet the eyes of his enemy were bleeding purple blood from the corners of their sockets, eyes bulging out as if they had been crammed into a container too small, veins bursting from beneath the skin as if they had been pulled out...

Marsov had commanded many battles and had fought in many wars from the front with those he had commanded, but he had never seen anything like this before. 

“What happened to them?” The question was from a commander present as the camera feed panned over countless bodies of enemy soldiers laying dead across the battlefield all sharing the horrific signs. 

“That,” Yuri spoke breaking the silence, “is chemical HZ-94; also known as the Coffin Maker.” 

“How do you know what it is? Have you seen it before?” 

Yuri shook his head. “I know what it is because I had it loaded into the smoke shells we fired before the attack.” 

The room went silent.

“You what?”

“I had the HZ-94 loaded into the smoke shells. As the smoke shells burst over the enemy covering them with smoke it was also laced with the chemical compound.” 

He motioned and an aide stepped forward carrying the helmet of their enemy and gave it to Yuri. He cradled it in his for a few moments before smirking. 

“You see the smoke attack for the last few weeks was intentional. I knew it would have no effect on the enemy as I had studied their captured war gear. You are correct prince that they are built in with filtration systems and density scanners, but did you know that the smoke clogs up their filtration systems?” 

He hoisted the helmet and pointed to a small oval opening at the base of the helmet. “Sure it can filter out some of the smoke, but consistent smoke eventually will form a barrier and block all inhalation forcing the user to swap filters.”

Yuri pried off the oval cap and showed it to everyone. 

“The previous smoke attacks were meant to make the enemy become accustomed to the tactic and treat the smoke as a non threat. What threat would there be when their density displays could see through the smoke and have visuals on our troops?” 

“While this was going on I had my off world associates manufacture the chemical and send it along with the safety gear for our own soldiers which would take roughly two months to arrive.” 

Marsov was trying to piece together what had happened even as the first ranks of his soldiers made it through the smoke and came upon an entire field of dead enemy soldiers. All sharing the same horrific symptoms as those that had been seen in the smoke. 

“The enemy would therefore not realize that there would be a secondary chemical mixed in with the smoke leaving them care free to remove their filters and swap them out as if it was a similar attack as the weeks before.” 

Yuri’s eyes lit up with a devilish glow as he turned towards Marsov and chucked the helmet at him. “My plan was to make the enemy complacent and predictable and therefore easy to manipulate and predict. The moment they swapped out their filters they were exposed to the Coffin Maker and their fate was sealed.” 

He motioned to the giant screen which had panned out to the entire length of the front. “We waited to press the attack not only for the gas to become effective but to also let the wind currents carry it back into their own lines.

“How could you have known the direction of the wind?” Marsov was horrified and amazed at the same time. In a single stroke the human had broken the entire enemy front line opening a massive gap their forces were now exploiting to their fullest. 

“In the time it took for the requested materials to arrive I studied not just our enemy but the planet itself. I found the patterns of wind currents and established today as the offensive as the wind was going in the opposite direction.” 

Marsov looked at the unease of his soldiers and the feeds as more and more dead bodies were found. Some with their hands clutching their throats or having ripped off their helmets as if desperate for breathable air. 

He turned his gaze to Yuri. “Have you no honor?” 

Yuri chuckled at the remark. 

“Honor is meaningless if it is unaccompanied by a victory.”

[dayseternal-blog]

Summary: % Sweet - What’s a guy to do when he has a cute customer?  Bubble tea shop AU.

Part 1 of a series of fluffy short one-shots in Modern AU.

For @badluckbrebis for NaruHina Secret Santa 2020!  I have more planned for this gift exchange, so please stay tuned.  I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THESE.

Rating: G

% Sweet

With a gallon of milk in each hand, Naruto saunters down the road from the nearby supermarket back to Kyuu-Tea, his part-time.

The sun’s finally starting to set, sending a golden hue across the cooling afternoon.  It’s been good weather.  Which means they’ll have a good amount of customers heading in for a boba drink before dinner.  Hopefully, that girl, too-

The sound of a car door shutting closed draws his attention.

Her.  Long, dark blue hair and skin as creamy as genmaicha milk tea.

His heart thumps almost violently in his chest like a gunshot at a race.  He’s making a mad dash back to the shop, throwing the door open, bursting in, and he announces to Sasuke with an uncontrolled yell, "SHE'S COMING!  I saw her!!"

Sasuke stands straighter behind the counter with a concerned and curious, “Who?”

But he’s already rushing into the back to shove the milk into the fridge before flying back out to the floor.  “The girl from last night,” he gasps as he frantically straightens chairs and takes panicked glances at each table for any stray straw wrappers lying around.

Sasuke’s brows are high on his forehead as Naruto runs back behind the counter and pushes him away from the register.

And hardly five seconds later, he sees her appearing on the other side of the windows, pulling the door open, laughing with a friend with double buns.  The friend’s got that street-sporty look that he’d usually be into, but the girl is just soo pretty...and especially after what Sakura told him...

Naruto can’t help smiling stupidly at her.

She glances at him, and her gaze dances away, a shy smile coloring her sweet face.  She approaches the counter, her eyes focused on the menu, but he’s quite certain that she’s already decided.

“Hi,” he greets.

“Hello,” and finally, she looks at him head-on, and damn, he’s really never seen eyes like hers before in his life.

“The same as last time?” he asks.

Those light eyes widen in surprise, and he can’t help mentally patting himself on the back.  “Oh, yes,” she murmurs in soft tones that leave him wanting to hear more.

“Medium Winter Melon Tea Latte?”

She nods.

“With light sugar?”

She nods again, that blush on her cheeks almost good enough to compensate for her silence.

He taps her order onto the touchscreen.  “...And small boba?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He grins despite knowing that he’s way too excited about such a customary phrase.  “That’ll be $4.95.”

She nods again, opening her purse and retrieving a $5 bill for him.

“Thank you...here’s your change.”

She takes it and promptly drops the nickel into the tip jar.

He’s still smiling at her even as she turns around.

She’s cutely biting her lips, and he hears her quietly remark to her friend, “He remembered my order.”

“What, really?” the other girl gasps.

He smiles wider and steps away from the register, super proud of himself.  “Sasuke, can you get the next one for me?”

“Oh.”  Sasuke hands him the plastic cup for that girl before taking his spot at the register back.

And Naruto gets to work, all the while wondering if she’s watching him or not.

Gods, he really hopes she’s into him like Sakura said she is.

Sealing the lid to the cup, he grabs a big straw for her and neglects calling out that her finished order is ready in favor of taking it directly to the table where she and her friend are seated.  “Here’s your Winter Melon Tea Latte.”

Again, she looks at him with that incredibly surprised expression.  “O-oh, thank you.”

“No problem.”  He grins for a second before turning around, but disappointment quickly settles in.  That’s pretty much the end of their interactions for the rest of the night.

The number of customers starts picking up again, as he predicted.

But his straying gaze to her table doesn’t go unnoticed.  She catches him every so often, blushes, and looks away.

He hopes that he’s not coming off as creepy.  It's just that he can’t stop thinking about her.

And who can really blame him?  When they came last night, Sakura quickly told him before they left the shop that her friend thinks he’s hot!

Hot, as in like, should he try to pursue her?  Or was that just a passing, shallow compliment?

But they’re here again and…

Turning to Sasuke, he blurts out his conundrum in as hushed an urgent whisper as he can.  “Should I try talking to her?”

But Sasuke seems not nearly as invested in this as he should be.  “If you wanna talk to her, then talk to her.”

He wishes he wasn’t such a dork.  Then maybe he’d have the nonchalant attitude necessary to just walk up to girls and start hitting on them.

They could leave at any second now.  And now is as good as it’s going to get while there’s a lull in the work.

So sucking up his self-consciousness, he strides over to their table again.

She’s looking at him shyly.

“Uh, hi,” he starts.  Really smooth of him.

Her friend is making eyes between the two of them, and, honestly, this is the most awkward thing he’s ever tried to do in his life.

“Hello,” she greets.

The friend also says, “Hi.”

“I heard you-”  He abruptly stops.  What’s he actually trying to say here, that he heard she thinks he’s hot?!  “-I, I’m friends with Sakura, and uh-”

She’s nodding.

Thankfully, the friend intervenes.  “Yeah, Sakura wanted to show us this place where her friends work.  You guys have good tea.”

“Thanks.”  He awkwardly smiles, wondering how he got himself into this mess.  Why can’t he talk like a normal person right now?  “Glad you guys liked it enough to come back again.”

She smiles and nods.

“Uh…”  Now what.  Now what is he supposed to do.  “...Can I have your number?  O-or, I could give you mine if you’d be more comfortable…”

She’s nodding, taking out her phone.

“...with that… um…”  He watches her unlock her phone and open up a new contact page.  “My number is…”

She taps in his phone number, and he really hopes she’ll actually contact him, and that he’s not going to be the next fool in their girl-talk.

But with that sweetly shy look, she peeks back up at him, and his hope multiplies ten-fold.  He must be doing something right for her to look at him like that...

“Um...what was your name again?” she nearly whispers.

Embarrassed heat slams into his face and beats down at his neck.  “Oh!"  He really is a fool of all fools.  "I’m Naruto.  Naruto Uzumaki.  Sorry…”

She shakes her head, a small smile playing at her lips as she enters his name into her phone.

“A-and your name?” he ventures to ask.  He wishes he could start this whole conversation over.  They are definitely going to be laughing about him after this.

“I’m Hinata.  And-”  She looks at her friend.  “-This is Tenten.”

Tenten raises a hand up from the table as if to separate herself from their conversation.  “Don’t mind me.”

He grimaces in renewed embarrassment, muttering an apology that he’s not sure the other girl heard over Hinata’s much more embarrassed cry of, “Tenten!”

The buns girl is just laughing at them.

“So uh, Hinata,” he redirects, “Text me sometime?”

She nods, her cheeks adorably flushed.  “I am.  Right now.”

Unchecked, stupid joy floods him, and he knows he's smiling way too much to look cool.  “Great, thanks.”

The little bell at the door chimes as more customers walk in.

He has to get back to work.  But first, he makes sure to seal this with a promise.  “I’ll talk to you later, then?"

She nods easily, and he turns around to give Sasuke a victorious grin.

Back behind the counter, his phone vibrates in his pocket, and a quick glance shows a short message: “Hello this is Hinata Hyuuga :)”

A flashed smile at Hinata, a wave of his phone to show that he got her message, and she’s blushing that adorable smile back at him.  “Thanks for texting me back,” he taps out and sends before he finally starts focusing on making drinks.

Only a few minutes later, he notices them cleaning up, getting ready to leave.

“Thank you!” he shouts out.

She turns, mouthing a “thank you” in return, with that sweet smile that dazzles him each time, and he can already tell she’s exactly what he wants.

Even if her boba tea is 25% sweetness, Hinata is definitely 125% extra sugar.

[spaghettiandart]

memories in three

Originally posted this on the aminos sometime during march, but decided (as of may 3 at 12 am) to post it here too! Yay spur of the moment decision! The rest of the post is from the blogs on the UT and UTAU aminos, and the story is under the cut.

author's note: this was mostly made to be part of my oc's backstory, but then i realized it could exist as a nice character development thing. the art was done on medibang paint and took 2 weeks.

characters: w. d. gaster, grillby, oc

categories: fluff, angst, friendship.

warnings: non-graphic violence, death, blood, mild language. 

word count: 4092

[I] |        one - the calm 

The time they had was always finite. Even at the genesis of it, they knew. They'd look at eachother, a circle of three, assigned to stick together and be loyal to one another, and they knew there'd be no way they'd get along. 

It was so easy to pretend, but with five months gone and passed it was getting harder to feign ignorance. 

The violent crackles and pops of Grillby's flames match the rapid beating of his SOUL, colors rising to the white and lowering until it was a pathetic red in uneven jitters of anxious panic. He focused on pouring the rum into the barbarously crafted wooden mug, the familiar motions soothing his shaking hands until he felt some semblance of normality surround him. 

The background quiet set him on edge, still. He could feel the flames on his shoulders worming their way through the openings on his armor, fingers immediately twitching to cast a flame ball, or reach for his sword, or pour another drink, or so something so that they weren't empty and susceptible to the whims of his ever-twisting emotions. 

The tension- oh, how he hated the tension. Being silent was his favorite sport, his carefully cultivated talent, but he was a creature born and bred to exist in the midst of warm chatter and noise. He was not the type of man to be relaxed in silent, cold hate, and neither was he the type to mediate it. 

Grillby picks up the three mugs by their handles, two hanging precariously from one hand, cradled to his chest, and the other already making its way to his mouth. The liquid stung at him, but not in the way human beverages did. While their concoctions were tasteless and lowered his HP by decimals, this was warm and fuzzy and the bubbly froth filled his mouth like cotton. 

His team was already there. WingDings Gaster, Grand Arcane Battle Artificer of the Deltarune Legion, and Igneous No-Name, Grand Arcane Battle Mage-Scribe of the Deltarune Legion. The names were long in Human English, even longer in traditional Monster languages, but Titles had Meanings and must be Specific and Precise so as to grant Monster the Respect they Deserve. Said verbatim by his own King when he was given his title. 

(Grillby No-Name, Fifth General of the Deltarune Legion, was what was inscribed on the back of the wings of his own silvery Deltarune-Symbol pendant. Every Monster soldier got one, regardless of their station and their specific designations. His own was cold enough for precipitation to collect on the metal, enchanted to withstand heat damage.)

His enchanted helmet is resting on a stack of parchment like a paperweight, turned away from the table so that its face was pointed at the wall. The silence was turned up tenfold the minute Grillby sheepishly walked into their section of the "room", and the two magic-users turned their mutual cold shoulder on him as well.

It shouldn't hurt, but Grillby had to stop himself from reeling as if he were struck by a physical hand. Oh, this wouldn't do. 

They were a team, after all. Of the same Legion, of the same Fifth Division, of the same status. The silence killed him, repulsed his being down to the core because it was so very anti-him. Anti-Flame Elemental, even, because even when they were quiet the crackling of their flames were enough to communicate their feelings to another. 

He only had body language to go off of the two. They may be masters at putting up facades, but he was a master of interpreting them, so the minute he sets the mugs down on the table he immediately pushed the stack of books piled in between Gaster and Igneous like a great wall crumbling to the ground, uncaring of the way the two jumped and jolted at the noise. 

His SOUL pounded, filled with anxiety and slight reprieve at the sound, but he needed more. He hated speaking, he much rather would be the one spoken to, but there are little people to be found who'd like to ramble for hours on end to a stranger save for drunken heretics at the little old tavern he used to manage decades ago. 

"What in the goddamn are you doing?" Igneous exclaimed, hood haphazardly slipping off her head and catching onto her big ears, holding on for dear life in a losing battle. 

"I concur. What on Earth is wrong with you?" Gaster snapped the large tome he was pretending to read shut, the sudden action too surprising for him to not address.

Grillby takes the time to sip from his mug, before setting it down lightly. "... You're both acting like children when we are all adults. Talk out your problems."

Igneous glared at him with an impressive amount of venom. For someone with only two eyes to convey emotion, she knew how to convey it. "I am not talking to a child murderer."

The remaining monster in the room scowled at Igneous, and then at Grillby. "Tell the Mage that human children are the easiest and most reliable source of SOULs to harvest to bolster our ranks."

Igneous' eyes narrowed and her glare intensified. "Tell the Artificer that by killing the humans' children we'd only encourage them to attack as harder. Also tell him he's a shitbag for suggesting it in the first place."

"Tell the Mage that she's a naive twat if she thinks that war can be won with no sacrifices."

"Tell the Artificer that sacrifices of that degree are uncalled for and that he smells of elderberries."

"I do NOT smell like elderberries you-"

Grillby clapped his hands once. A burst of flame shot out from the vents on his shoulders and the palms of his hands, making the bickering pair freeze simultaneously from where they were slowly turning their heads to face each other. 

"This is what I am talking about," the Swordsman looked at them both with a disappointed gaze from behind his crystalline glasses. "... Children, we are adults. You're going to apologize to each other and agree to disagree, or else I will burn one of the books you collected from the Human Mages."

Gaster slammed his hands down on the table and began to stand, expression thunderous. Igneous' eyes widened to such a degree that they threatened to pop out of her head, and she snapped her head back as if he struck her. 

"Child number one, sit down. Child number two, stay quiet- I know you will say something and I will make you regret it," Grillby steepled his fingers, the effort of speaking for so long already taking the energy out of him. He heaved in a breath, the air making his flames crackle with strength. "... Child number one- it may be hard to realize this, but killing children is inarguably immoral and degenerate. Child number two- I advise you to set your pride aside, else your inability to accept the flaws of your naivety may cause you more harm than good... Now apologize, because I am becoming very annoyed at having to speak so much..."

The two stared at him as if he sprouted a second flaming head from his shoulder. Grillby lit up a single finger and held it over a stray paper on the table that escaped his rampage on their books. 

Gaster was the first to break. "... ahem," he shifted uncomfortably, and stuck his nonexistent nose in the air so that he looked down at Igneous. "I suppose that I will have to concede at that. Your... interesting... worldview is something we can't quite see eye to eye on."

Grillby stared at him harder, and his shoulders slumped as he hunched over the table.

"And I apologize for my unprofessional conduct," he sighed, picking at the knicks and scratches in his hands in a nervous manner.

The Spirit Remnant stared at the- Skeleton? Shadow Creature? Wraith? Gaster never disclosed what kind of monster, exactly, he was- with clear contempt that faded away into uncomfortable and annoyed vulnerability. She rolled her shoulders, tail curling around her left ankle protectively.

"You're still a terrible creep, and I cannot deny that I would sooner pound you to dust with my bare hands than see you harm a child of any kind," she said, quietly, "but I understand that... things must be done for the greater good, sometimes. I apologize."

The air became heavy with guilt and frustration at that, but at least they weren't outright holding each other in contempt. Grillby prepared himself to speak for hopefully the last time that day. 

"... Good. Adult One, Adult Two, may I present to you your rewards for acting your age," he slid over the mugs of wine to the both of them, glad that he couldn't physically let out the relieved sigh he would have released were he able to breathe at the sight of the suddenly bright expressions the two had.

Igneous casted a furtive, unsure glance at Gaster, who angled his body away from the both of them and glared at the papers beneath him. He didn't cover them from her view when she leaned over to glance at them, her brows quirking in question as she took another sip. 

The mood didn't instantly change to comfortable. They didn't relax around each other, not immediately. But Grillby could feel the tension in his shoulders drift away as he watched Igneous quietly shoot the other with a question, and Gaster exchanging it with one in return. 

The stress of the war was taking its toll on him, but seeing the two gratefully take small sips of his homemade rum and shyly exchange words about their respected professions made the weight on his chest lighten just a little. 

|        two - the storm 

The battle is disorganized chaos, and he hates it. Not for the slaughter, not for the blood shed, not for the dust carried by the wind. He hates the sheer animalistic frenzy everyone on the battlefield was sent into- it's as if the second the fight began the primal instinct in their minds seemed to suddenly reveal itself, possessing their bodies and taking away their willpower to keep their hidden urges hidden. 

Such was evident in the human shoving his sword into the throat of a bunny monster, rendering them to dust before the blade could slice its way out. Or a monster with a dragon's muzzle unhinging its jaw like a snake and snapping up a human mage, their spine crushed under the pressure in an instant. 

Or even his own... companions, battling back to back against a frenzy of knights, swords gleaming and magic spewing around them. They were beaten down, armor covered in mud and muck, and from the minute trembling carried across their bodies it seemed as if they were ready to topple at any moment. 

Gaster's fists tightened as his Special Attack blasted yet another beam of energy to render a pitiful human to ash, the conjured hands twisting in midair before flocking to his sides like a pair of dogs. He looked down from the cliff he was standing on at the clearing they were fighting in, chest heaving from exertion. He couldn't let it overtake him, not yet, but the exhaustion was close to killing him. His limbs hurt to their very core. 

Igneous and Grillby were practically attached at the spine with how closed in they were. Igneous had snaked a hand around a human's neck, crushing his windpipe before resting her weight on Grillby's back and launching herself in the air. 

Her conjured wings flung out from her back, and she slammed her foot into the chest of another knight, caving it in from the magically-reinforced pressure. 

Despite the human bodies piling up around them, more seemed to flood the two as if recognizing them to be the heavy hitters they were. A human swung out with his sword, and Grillby caught it with his own flaming one, pushing it back. The two were neck and neck, heels dug into the ground as the gleaming blades fought against each other. The human's head shifted forward, as if they were saying something, and Grillby's flames burst into a column of blue, indignant fire. 

The human took the opening his anger gave them by twisting their body and throwing their weight into Grillby's chest, pummeling him into Igneous and the ground. 

Igneous flipped head over heels, wings dissipating as she lied face down. Grillby was shakily getting up, but the human struck out and suddenly there was a hole in the side of his armor, frost creeping around it. 

Gaster scowled, and took a few steps back from the cliff in preparation. A voice behind him interrupted his motions. 

"You meet your end, monster," a voice hissed from behind him. He tilted his head slightly, and upon seeing that it was only a mage he scoffed. 

"Do tell the clouds hello," Gaster flicked the human mage away with little pressure and much disdain from one of the conjured hands, and set his jaw as he hopped onto the back of one of his hands. There was no time to be wasted with meaningless banter.

Hell would sooner freeze over than him seeing his fr- companions, his companions- Fall Down. 

Smaller hands materialized around his body, hitting and punching and swatting away oncoming attackers as he rode the hand down the side of the cliff. The fingers stretched out, and he bent his knees ever so slightly. 

As the end of the cliff was reached, curving into the clearing, he jumped with all his might off the hand and to the side, landing in a roll before hopping to his feet. 

The hand continued on, and barrelled into the human slowly approaching Grillby with the force of a stampeding bull. 

Their sword flew out of their hand and embedded into the bark of a nearby tree with a 'thunk!' and Igneous quickly picked up the slack as the hand dissipated, energy coalescing in her hands. Feathers caged the human in.

"... God... no, no," the human moaned in pain, attempting to get up on their elbows. They glared up at the three just as Grillby picked up his sword from where it lay discarded on the ground, grip trembling. 

"You dirty freaks," the human weakly said, their chest heaving and breath wheezing. Perhaps that hand broke a few bones... oh well. Gaster found that he didn't much care about not knowing, this time, taking much pleasure in watching Grillby advance at the human with his own sword held aloft. 

"You're not m-monologuing, right?" Igneous spoke up, her own breath wheezy. Catching the brunt of Grillby's weight must have hurt, because her entire body was trembling with poorly hidden pain. Almost unconsciously, Gaster shifted his body so that he was in front of her. Her body was trembling in shock and indignation, eyes wide and animalistic as they focused on the human. She looked ready to pounce. "Goddamnit... what are you waiting for, Grillbz? Just end them already!" 

The human ignored her, slowly getting on their knees. Their fists clenched. "Y-you... you won't win this war. Kill me, but my brothers and sisters will avenge me! Our mages, our knights, our horses, our citizens- they'll all fight, all against you monsters!" 

"Please kill them," Igneous practically begged Grillby, her wispy 'hair' flickering piteously. "They’re not useful. They’re not- just- kill them, please.”

"No, wait," Gaster found himself muttering, suddenly. Igneous snapped her head in his direction, eyes wide- and he almost flinched back at the desperation in her eyes. What did that human say? "I want to see what he'll do."

Grillby was examining the human curiously. His masked head tilted this way and that, his hands exchanging the swords as he stood in front of the human, looking down at it. Music, unidentifiable in genre, played in the distance. 

The human looked up at him, glaring through the slits of their helmet. "You know... you know this. And... y-you know what I said before... I w-was right. Kill me, but you'll have to live with that... and that's enough for me to die happy."

There was silence. The two stared at each other, carefully. 

"Well?" The human barked. "You're not going to end it? Take me prisoner, then! Flaunt me around! I still won't-!"

Their head was on the ground in a SOULbeat. Gaster and Igneous took a simultaneous step back as blood stained the grass underneath the human, the armored Flame Elemental examining the corpse before kicking it on its side, stomping back to them.

"... Wasn't going to let their dying words be them telling me what to do," he muttered once he reached them. 

Igneous' shoulders seemed to drop suddenly, and she looked around them. Corpses, bodies, dust- they were all strewn about the battlefield haphazardly. There was no art behind them. No grand imagination from the divines above. 

Just the reeking scent of death lingering over them all. 

She took this in, much like Gaster was, and then looked at him. She had no mouth to smile with, but her eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges. 

"You saved our skins back there," she said, voice still quavering from the quiet horror carried within it, and reached out a hand to him. Gaster hesitated, but let it land on his shoulder. The tall monster gripped it firmly, resting her weight on it. "I won't forget this, you know."

"You can start bothering me about it tomorrow," Gaster said, feeling a bit lightheaded. 

Igneous shook her head at that, and gave it a few pats before moving away and CHECKing herself, digging around her small inventory for food. "I don't mean it like that. I mean- yes, I am absolutely going to tease you about this for the next month, but... you... you really do..."

Grillby sheathed his sword suddenly, and looked up at the cliff from where he rode down from. There was a quiet surrounding them. "... care about us."

Gaster shifted from foot to foot. He was no child. He was an adult, for God's sake. Why did he feel so... embarrassed, all of a sudden? 

A cheer rose up in a crescendo of voices from beyond the cliff just as the sun made its way to the top of Mt Ebott and began to hide behind it. The battlefield was painted in a swath of gold and pink, and suddenly he wasn't so much focused on the chaos of it all as he was on the way the colors seemed to highlight the edges and curves of the two in front of him, how it made them all the more... real. 

Gaster stepped closer to the two. "The humans have retreated. We should be... getting back, now."

It was Grillby who set a hand on his shoulder this time, his face pointedly looking away and at the sunset. "... five minutes."

"Ten," Igneous chimed in, brushing his arm with her own. 

The trio stood there throughout the sunset and into the night, and Gaster woke the next morning with his friends resting on either shoulder, the dewy grass fresh underneath him and the battle feeling as if it took place years ago instead of the evidence of it being right behind him. 

He watched the rising sun and smiled. There's the peace he was waiting for. 

|        three - the pieces

The last time Igneous woke up from her  Hibernation Pack, it was to a boss monster with kind eyes looming over her. 

She panicked, at first. Scrambled back, and then turned to alert the Spirit Remnants that she was resting with that there was an intruder in their den. 

All that she was met with was piles upon piles of dust. 

"I was able to stop him from hurting you, too," he had rumbled from behind her, " but I'm afraid that I was too late for your companions."

She turned back around, eyes wide with outrage. 

He held a paw out towards her, offering comfort. It was stained with the humans blood. 

She took it, and pulled him close, demanding that he give her a way to get revenge. His paw clenched involuntarily from surprise, and his dark claws nicked her ethereal skin. 

Her essence joined the human's blood, and in the budding tears in her eyes an agreement was formed. 

Centuries later, Igneous wakes up in a comfortable, warm bed inside a comfortable, warm home underneath the large mountain that she fought for her life on. 

The nightmares were long gone, and memories were reserved for the day to sort through. All that was left for her dreams was darkness and static and white, mutilated hands reaching out for her with holes dug deep into their palms.

She never remembered them, and woke up each morning with the sense of loss lingering heavily in her chest. 

In the room over, the sounds of chatter and the dinging of a bell signifying the front door opening and closing began to grow louder and more frequent. Igneous was frozen in the hallway connecting her and Grillby's bedrooms, curled up in a small armchair haphazardly placed there five years, seven months, and six days ago when the two were refurbishing the building and couldn't decide in which room to put it. They decided to share instead, setting it outside and in between their rooms. 

She pulled her knees up to her chest, the chattering growing louder in her ears. Soon she'd have to step out and start taking their orders, but breakfast doesn't officially start in another… ten minutes, or so. 

She can take her time. 

The swaying pendulum hanging on the wall across from her demanded all her attention, grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes and reflected her past to her. Her stomach flipped with each sway of the object, hands traveling from her knees to her ankles and gripping them tightly.

It's been centuries. But that loss… was it only from the monsters dusted? Was it only from what that human revealed to Grillby and to her during that fateful fight? Or was it from that missing piece, the hole that separated both her and her friend, the dust-ridden and empty guest bedroom untouched that rested at the end of the hall? 

Her fingers clenched tighter, digging holes into her pants that would be covered up by her boots later. 

Was it the unfortunate fates of her pack? The piles of dust she woke up sleeping on, almost ready to join them before Asgore interrupted their murderer? 

Was it what the human said? The quiet words, so low but loud enough at the same time to be heard from miles away, repeating in her ears? The truth, maybe even the sneer in their voice when they spoke, "Don't worry. We didn't dust all of our prisoners… but you will never find them." 

Or the missing piece? The unknown factor that frustrated and scared her to no end, the pounding in her ears whenever she looked at the words unscripted on that silvery pendulum swinging back and forth and back and forth in a maddening rhythm from where it hung on the wall? 

Her claws dug deeper, caught onto fabric, pulled. The seams of her pants ripped at the ankle, and her flickering, pseudo-fiery essence darted out in quick licks at the air. 

The words stayed in her mind whenever she looked at it, dissapeared when she looked away, reappeared with all the context behind them when she looked back.

Every morning was the same routine. The same, desperate staring at the Deltarune-symbol pendant hanging from the wall. The same hope that she'll remember the name after she looks away. 

The dread of not knowing if she'll remember to do it tomorrow. 

She reread the name for the four hundred and thirty fifth time, desperately imprinting it on her mind. Grillby had long stopped even glancing at the thing decades ago. She won't forget. 

She looks away. 

"Shit, I'm going to be late," Igneous muttered, staring at the clock instead. She stood from the chair, confused and wobbly in the knees. "I could've sworn I was just sitting for a few seconds…"

She hurried off down the hall, pulling on her boots as she walked through the Fire Exit. 

The pendulum swung on the wall, shaking as the door slammed closed, its name forgotten. 

Wing Dings Gaster

Grand Arcane Battle Artificer

Deltarune Legion

Division V

[toomanyfandoms02]

Tension // Spencer Reid x Reader

A blurb request for @emo---tional ! This is a bit longer than a blurb though OOPS AGAIN.

Summary - Reader and Spencer aren't exactly the nicest to eachother, but that all changes on a jet ride home.

Word Count - 1.2k (ITS 1.2K EXACTLY IM SO PROUD!)

Prompts - "Do you think you could just go ONE day without pissing me off?" -- "Is there a reason you're blushing like that?"

It was normal for this tension to be floating in a room when it was just me and Spencer.

Emily called it *sexual* tension, but I knew that was bullshit.

We remained at a precinct in San Francisco, California. We had just finished a case and the others had gone out to get a drink as a celebration. The jet wasn't able to come until tomorrow because of some fuel difficulties, so we were staying in a hotel for the night. Dr. Reid and I decided to stay here and get a head start on paperwork.

I sat criss-crossed in my chair, bent over a small stack of paperwork that was clipped onto a clip board. My pen scrawled across the page violently.

"You know you really shouldn't slouch like that." Spencer commented, tipping his chair back onto two legs.

"And you really shouldn't tip your chair back, you could crack your head open." He then continued as if I had said nothing, per usual.

"The slouching position puts pressure on your bones, thereby causing discs to become compressed and making you vulnerable to back pain. Also, it causes your pelvic muscles to go slack, which makes it progressively harder to support a well-aligned stance. Not that you have one in the first place." He mumbled the last part, returning to his paperwork.

"Do you think you could just go *one* day without pissing me off? Is it that hard to just keep your genius mouth shut? Or is that the only thing you never learned?" I snapped, throwing my pen on the table and standing from my seat. "I'm gonna go drink with the team. You should probably stay here and think of another smartass thing to say to me next time we're near eachother." I slammed the conference room door and headed to the entrance. The office lady Linda waved sympathetically at me as I left, I gave her a kind smile.

The moment I entered my car I set my head lightly on the steering wheel.

*Why is he such an asshole to me?*

*What even is this feud we have going on?*

I rolled my eyes at the thought. There was no use even questioning it, neither of us had an answer.

I started up my car and drove to the bar the team mentioned. I just needed something to loosen me up. He really knew how to grind my gears, and I was about at the end of my rope.

-

The jet finally arrived at 5 am. I hadn't been able to fall asleep until about 1 so I wasn't particularly in a great mood. My suitcase rolled loudly behind me on the runway. Just as I was about to the steps, Spencer had caught up to me.

"Someone looks like they got a lot of sleep last night." He raised his eyebrows and lightly pointed and rubbed under his eyes, silently stating that I had bags under my eyes. I wasn't in the mood so I didn't say anything back, I could feel my eye twitch in annoyance and my nostrils flare. I stomped my way onto the jet without a word. My bag was thrown near the couch and I plopped onto it. Time for a 4 hour ride home.

My eyes slid shut easily and I drifted to sleep.

-

Apperantly my body didn't want me to sleep, because here I was, just two hours later.

Wide awake.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and adjusting them to the light. Everyone else was asleep, besides Spencer. He sat reading a book in the single facing chairs that were across from the couch.

I willed my legs to stand and take me the the back room for some coffee. I poured my copious amounts of sugar and cream in and headed back out to the couch.

"Yeah, that'll help you fall asleep." Spencer didn't even look up from his book to make the snide comment, just flipping mindlessly through the pages. I opted to not answer again, just rolling my eyes and sitting on the couch again. "What? No witty comment back?" My eyes were glued to the brown liquid that swished in the mug. I glanced at him, then back at the mug, barely acknowledging him. I could feel his eyes on me still.

"Do you need something?" My voice came out as exhausted as possible while I finally made eye contact with him. He stood from his spot, bringing himself next to me.

"You seem off." His shoulder bumped with mine as he sat. I just shrugged in response, my eyes remaining forward as I sipped my coffee.

"I'm fine." I turned my head to look at him, realizing just how close we were. Our noses were nearly touching. I could feel my cheeks heating up, so I whipped my head forward again and brought my mug to my lips. Hoping he wouldn't notice.

But of course he did.

"Is there a reason you're blushing like that?" His question came out so quiet. I was 100% sure that I was the only one that would hear it, even if the rest of the team was wide awake.

"I don't know what you're talking about." My voice was muffled by my navy blue mug, which I set on the table immediatly after, blush free. A hand was brought under my chin, forcing me to face him.

"Really? Because I definitely saw it." He teased. I shrugged once again, trying to come across as unbothered but I truly just wanted to kiss him right now.

But that was crazy.

*Right?*

Regardless of my thoughts, I felt myself leaning in, a sense of relief washing over me as I saw he was too. I put my hand on his chest as our lips met. His thumb stroked my cheek softly.

I had never felt a kiss like that before. It felt like a heated blanket on a winter night. Or when your mom would bring you tea when you were sick. It felt like the suns soft rays on your shoulders on an early spring morning.

It was so *warm*.

I pulled away to get some air.

"I'm sorry." He put his head on my shoulder.

"No! Don't be, I wanted to-"

"No, I'm sorry for being so rude to you all the time. It's very uncalled for. The only reason I started doing that was because I thought you didn't like me, even in a friendly way. So I wanted to beat you to the punch." He set his head on my shoulder, laughing a bit. "Sounds so stupid now."

"Do you think we should keep the whole charade up in front of the team? Just for fun?" I raised an eyebrow at him with a playful smile.

"Does that mean you want to continue this?" He asked with a tilt of the head.

"Obviously." A soft giggle erupted from my lips.

"Sounds like fun." He pulled me in for another kiss. "But we better stop before they start passing around betting money, I heard them talking about it last week." I pushed his chest a bit.

*This should be fun*

[stevesharrlngtons]

a headcannon or short Drabble on what Roman would do and how he would get the reader to forgive him for cheating.

ok sooooooooo i don’t think any reader of mine would forgive cheating. so i will not write any cheating forgiveness, sorry. trust is so important and breaking that with deceitful infidelity is just not ok to me and not something i would want one of my readers to forgive.

BUT! ok, i will give you this, here me out: it’s a it’s just what you do situation, where roman didn’t actually cheat on his girlfriend, maybe he was flirting with a bar waitress or something but still, his girl is not happy when she sees

lets say roman is out with peter while you’re out with letha for the night

after a few too many clubs and a few too many moscow mules, you two decide to go crash your boyfriends boys night

you are just the right amount of drunk and horny and needy to let roman fuck you in the bathroom or an ally

you knew your boyfriend is a little exhibitionist, and you were excited to indulge him

when you tumble into the bar peter texted letha the address of, with your best friend on your arm, you happily looked for your man in the sea of weekend bar hoppers

but when you found him, the smile fell right off your face

because roman was sat at a table with a pretty little brunette waitress looming over him with her tits shoved in his face and a stupid dreamy look on her face

and if that wasn’t bad enough, he was smirking up at her, and you watch, actually watch, as roman moves to stroke a piece of that bitch’s bitchy hair behind her bitchy little ear

letha watches alongside you, her jaw dropped as she watched her cousin flirt with the random woman

and poor letha, she’s too drunk to realize that you are going over to roman and peter’s table

she’s too drunk to stop you from picking up peter’s full beer glass and dumping it all over roman

she’s almost too drunk to handle the aftermath of your crying at her stupid fucking cousin

“don’t bother coming home! you’re stuff will be on the lawn!” you screech as letha uses all her might to tug you from the bar (practically kicking and screaming) while peter held a fuming roman back from running after you and making your tantrum worse.

letha stayed with you that night, holding you hair while you threw up and handing you tissues to violently cry into

she knew you were just shitfaced and needy and it made this whole situation a lot worse

normally you would have been pissed but now, you were pissed and heartbroken

and letha, the sweet thing she is, sacrificed her own night of drunk sex she was planning to have with her boyfriend to coddle and take care of you

the next morning when she left, she found roman on her couch, looking worse for wear

“well isn’t it duce bigalow,” she threw her purse down hard on the coffee table and he flinched

“fuck off, i don’t want to hear it,” he groaned and rolled away from her

“i have nothing to say to you,” she shrugged, heading to the kitchen, “neither does (y/n), for that matter.”

“she had some choice words for me last night,” he scoffed

“well, she got it out of her system. she’s already called her mom and booked a ticket to florida to see her. said she’s done with your shit.”

this got roman to sit up

so fast that his hangover protested by sending him an intense wave of nausea and spotted vision

“fuck off”

“nope, watched her book it myself. she’s done with you... at least for a while,” letha responded nonchalantly

you had done none of this, all you had done the night before was cry, puke and tell letha how much you loved her

that and fluctuating emotions about roman

“i hate that stupid cheating fuck! i hope his dick shrivels up and dies”

“but no, actually le, he’s so sweet and he is so soft and smells so good....”

and it was because letha loved you too, and her shit head cousin for some reason, that she was spinning this fib

the quicker roman got over his wounded ego and embarrassment from the night before, the quicker he would go apologize to you and all would be well in the world

last time you two got in a fight and you kicked roman out, he stayed with peter and letha for three days and drove them both crazy

he was constantly checking his phone while swearing it wasn’t to check to see if you called even though every time his phone would ring he would sprint to answer it — answering with the most pathetic little (y/n)? either had ever heard

he smoked like a fish and stared at the picture of you and letha that she had framed on the wall like he a lost puppy waiting for it’s owner to come pick him up

he would hover over both of them and mention you as causally not causally at all and ask if either had talked to you

it all ended when roman practically bought out the local florist and had a new courier deliver a new bouquet every thirty minutes, with an attacker card that held a unique love note and a reason why he loved you

obviously this worked and welcomed him back with open arms and a plethora of I missed you kisses

letha suspected he would need a flower shop and a jewelry store to be bought out to earn your forgiveness this time

she loved you, but you sure were high maintenance

“shit! fuck, god damn it! fuck, cmon roman!” he cursed, shooting to his feet and beginning to pace

“you fucked it up, you fucked this up! you lost her, you lost her...”

letha watched roman pace in her living room, mumbling to himself as he tugged at his hair

she watched him squirm a little more before she chimed in

“you didn’t lose her, alright? her plane leaves this afternoon, so you might still have some time...”

roman looked at her, his eyes wide and glazed with fear before she saw the gears in his mind begin to turn

and soon, he marched over to the door and snatched his jacket and keys from the front hooks

“where you goin’?” she called after him

“harry winston and the fucking mercedes dealership”

letha barely hears the end of his sentence over the slam of her front door

she can’t help but laugh as she goes to make a cup of coffee

she also can’t help but look forward to looking through your brand new jewelry (that you always loaned to her whenever she asked) and to taking a hot ride or two in your brand new car

needless to say, you forgave roman, but not without making him grovel a little with the black shopping bags in one hand and new car keys in the other

“i was coming to that bar to fuck you in the bathroom, yknow?”

“well it’s not too late for that, baby 😏”

“let’s start with the i’m sorry presents, then we’ll talk.”

[ejzah]

A/N: Returning with the car crash fic after many moons.

***

When It All Goes Wrong, Part 5

“Valerie, please put the gun down,” Kensi suggested, trying to inject reason into her voice. Really, she just wanted to kick the gun out Valerie’s hand, but she still felt a little off balance. Valerie had also stripped them both of their own weapons and stuffed them in a drawer, which Kensi knew she would never access without a major distraction.

“Why, so you can arrest me?” Valerie asked, letting out a hint of sarcasm. It was the first time she didn’t sound like a slightly oblivious middle aged woman. “No, I’m sorry, but Tim would be so angry if I let you leave.”

“And what exactly is it that you and Tim do that you should be arrested for?” Valerie bristled a little at Kensi’s question.

“I never wanted to do this.” She shrugged, dismissing her actions. “But we were tight on money and Tim said it wasn’t hurting anyone.”

“Let me guess,” Deeks said, speaking for the first time since Valerie had pulled the gun out. He had sat back down, legs splayed wide and head slightly lowered as though it was to much effort to stay upright. If it was a complete act, Kensi was very impressed. She didn’t think it was though. “Money laundering, smuggling...please tell me this isn’t a brothel.”

Valerie bristled at that, having the nerve to look offended.

“We are not smugglers,” she said firmly. “Tim just has a...friend who knows someone with some extra electronics he needs to transport every so often.”

“So basically smuggling.” Deeks groaned, leaning forward suddenly, which made Valerie jerk and raise her weapon a little higher.

“Stop moving.”

“Seriously?” He gestured at himself and added, “Do I look like I’m in any condition to attack you? I’m just trying to concentrate on not passing out.”

“Well, I am truly sorry about that,” Valerie said, looking contrite. “I just wanted to help you two.”

“Then let us go,” Kensi repeated. “Look, this isn’t even something that would normally be on NCIS’ radar.” She didn’t mention that holding to federal officers at gunpoint was.

“Tim wouldn’t like it though. And I try not to upset him.”

Kensi caught Deeks’ eye as Valerie wandered to the other side. He looked just as grim as she felt about the revelation that Tim had a potentially violent side. Clearly their best bet was to incapacitate Valerie and make their escape while they could. She raised her eyebrows at Deeks and he nodded almost imperceptibly.

“What are you going to do to us?” Kensi asked, drawing Valerie’s attention back to her. “You don’t seem like a killer and even if you do kill us, then you’ve got two bodies on your hands.”

“Really bad for business,” Deeks added a little groggily.

“I would never kill you!”

“Then what exactly is the plan here? Are you going to pack up and leave? Somehow I doubt you’ll find another place as extravagant and perfectly serial killery as this one.” Deeks shot the decor a look of disgust and Kensi resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I need to call Tim,” Valerie said in a distressed tone. She glanced between them, seeming to come to a decision. “Get down on the floor.” When neither of them moved, she pointed her gun directly at Deeks. “I don’t want to resort to violence, but I will if necessary.”

Sighing, Deeks pushed against the arms of the chair, his muscles trembling slightly as he forced himself up. He made it about two steps before he lurched to the side, his knees buckling. Valerie shrieked in surprise, running to his side and Kensi took advantage of her distraction to tackle her.

Valerie let out a cry of surprise as Kensi pressed her into the ground, pulling the gun from her surprisingly strong grip. She wriggled beneath Kensi, fingers grasping at the shaggy carpeting.

“Stop it or I’ll knock you out,” Kensi warned, panting a tiny bit. The activity had aggravated her already aching head and body, making her feel a little woozy. Thankfully Valerie took Kensi seriously and stilled completely.

She glanced over at Deeks who had sat up, but was still sitting on the floor.

“You alright, babe?”

“Uh-huh,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet with a significant amount of effort. He finally managed to stand upright, took one step, and immediately crashed into a side table. This time he didn’t get up as quickly and Kensi noticed the bloodstain on his shoulder had widened.

“Deeks!” She debated incapacitating Valerie to go to him, but he held up his good hand, giving her a shaky smile of reassurance.

“I’m fine.” Drawing in a couple deep breaths, he braced himself on the table, favoring his uninjured arm. It was hard to tell in the dim lighting, but it looked like his entire body was trembling. “Ok, I’m good. Now there’s only three of you.”

She took that to be his way of reassuring her that he wasn’t actually going to pass out and nodded across the room.

“Do you think you can get my handcuffs from my bag?”

“Sure thing.” He drunkenly walked over to the couch, sifting through the contents.

“Please don’t put me in jail,” Valerie said unexpectedly as Kensi yanked her into a sitting position with her arms folded behind her back. “I’m not a bad woman.”

“Valerie-” Kensi froze as a door slammed somewhere in the house and turned to Deeks with a horrified expression.

“Crap,” he hissed, glancing between the door and the two woman on the floor.

“Tim!” Valerie shouted before Kensi could stop her. Kensi clamped a hand over her mouth while Deeks tossed her the handcuffs.

“I’ll go check it out,” he whispered, scooping up Valerie’s gun with a surprising amount of agility and tiptoeing to the door.” Kensi snapped the handcuffs on Valerie as quickly as she could with the woman now making a determined effort to get loose.

“Deeks, no let me go,” she called softly, but he ignored her, giving her a quick, half smile as she slipped through the door. “Dammit, Deeks.”

***

A/N: This is not my favorite. I think there should be one more chapter, possibly and epilogue after this.

I was originally going to write this where Valerie was completely innocent and they really did jump to conclusions, but everyone seemed to want a more nefarious storyline.

[laketaj24]

Rules VII: Good Girls

Author’s Note: I’ve been so busy so it took longer than normal!! But here it is!!! I hope you enjoy@ My taglist and requests are open!! Please like share and reblog if you love the work! It means the world to me!

Warnings: Sensation Play, SMUT.

Pairings: CEO!Henry Cavill x Reader

M A S T E R  L I S T

Like my work! Buy me a Ko-Fi!!! All proceeds help me get back to school!

Alex was in a brooding mood; he sulked through the office, barely acknowledging you. It shouldn’t have bothered you, but it did, you liked Alex. He was the only person in the office you had a genuine friendship with and now it was gone. You walked into the break room with him and perched against the doorjamb.

“What?” He didn’t look up from his coffee only added more sugar and stir with the black straw.

“I wanted to go have lunch with you if you’re interested?”

“Not interested.”

“What can I do to make you my friend again?”

“Stay away from your boy toy.” He shrugged. “Not for me, I can tell by your behavior you don’t want me, but Cavill is off.”

You blocked him from leaving, holding your arm up in the door. “Have sushi with me? Please? There will be no mention of Cavill, just us talking like we used to?” you ignored pretty much everything he said about Cavill. It was evident that he didn’t like him and, therefore, nothing that he said you can take seriously in regards to him.

“Fine.” He folded after a few moments of thinking. His eyes met yours, and you both smiled broadly.

Yasuka’s SteakHouse was the closest, and you were more than happy for the reunion. “And I talked to Morris about the new campaign, he likes all the ideas. I feel like things are finally going right.”

“You’re doing great.” You sink your teeth into the California roll remembering the slick grief he’d given you about the basic sushi rolls. His plate looked lavish, you didn’t know the names of half the rolls, but you were intrigued.

“How are your projects going?” He asked, picking up the dragon roll and biting into it. He closed his eyes, making the small piece look more delectable than it seemed.

“I want to try.” You said, ignoring his question.

“The Dragon Roll?”

He picked it up and waited on you. “Open your mouth.” He said smoothly.

You obeyed, opening your mouth, and then he placed it on your tongue, and you ate it. It was good; the burst of flavors was balanced just right with the ginger, wasabi, and soy sauce. Your eyes closed as you finished it off and then opened to Alex, he was watching you intensely. “Not bad.”

“You looked like you enjoyed it.” Alex smiled.

“Yes, she did.” Henry’s fingers pinched lightly at your shoulder. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

Those were the words you wanted to say, Henry had a habit of appearing. “Henry.”

“I was having lunch with some colleagues.” He pointed to the table full of executives and shrugged. “Enjoy your lunch, good seeing you, Arnold.”

“Alex.”

“Right.” He said abrasively, he knitted his brows and left without another word.

“Sorry, your boy toy saw that.” Alex teased and finished his last roll.

“It’s fine.” You murmured, but it wasn’t.

 The familiarity to his place was a genuine love of the place. You rarely were at your own home anymore,  you entered Henry’s home and placed your keys on the foyer table. You slipped from your shoes and tucked your keys away in the entryway stand with a smile. You could feel Henry before you saw him. His blue eyes heavy on you, and then tension was thick in the air. It didn’t shock you that Henry was awaiting you. He stood at the steps, shirtless and a stone face. “Took you long enough.” He grumbled.

“Excuse me?” You laughed.

“You don’t listen.”

“Don’t start with me.”

“I plan to start and finish with you.”

Henry lifted you from the ground and tossed you quickly over his broad shoulder. You were headed upstairs. “When was the last time you heard from Olivia?”

He placed you on your feet once you entered the familiar playroom. “Henry.”

“Just answer the question.”

You thought to yourself, it had been a month. You hadn’t heard anything from Olivia, and for once in the little shit show you called a relationship, there were no distractions. “A month.”

“She hasn’t called, you haven’t seen her, she is gone. I asked you to leave Alex alone, I didn’t ask for much.” He paused. “And you broke my rule. You always break my rules, and I take it easy on you. But now I think it’s time I teach you that breaking rules have consequences. Strip out of your clothes.” He said quickly as he turned on his heel. “I’ll be back.”

You walked around the room, every time you were in here you found something new. The various amount of plugs and whips made your head spin. It excited you. You stripped out of your clothes, the blanket of uneasiness settled over you. He seemed pissed, more than the usual.

You waited for him for ten minutes, and when the door opened, the cool breeze wafted the scent of him over to you, and immediately your nipples hardened, anxiously awaiting Henry’s plans for you.

He suspended your arms between two mahogany beams that were nailed to the ground. The leather manacles were secured around your arms and legs. The satin blindfold graced your face, and the small gag kept you from being able to speak.

“I really like seeing you this way?” Henry’s voice came from the right side of your body, but you could hear his steps as they grew closer to you. “We have a good thing going, don’t you think?” Henry’s sultry voice would have been sexy for you had you not been scared out of your mind. This was all new to you.

Your hands struggled against the leather manacle, and you mumbled against the gag in your mouth. “Ple-,” You tapped your ass with a paddle.

The smooth wood ran across the globe of your ass, and then he struck again. “Shut up.” Everything tingled, ached even. His footsteps moved to the right of the room. “You need a lesson.” Henry was back at your ear, his teeth tugging at the flesh of your earlobe. He loosened the gag from your mouth, and a slight moan escaped. “are you ready for it?” Henry removed the gag from your mouth and tapped your face with three fingers. “Y/N.”

“Yes, yes.” You stammered over your words and swallowed.

“Answer my question.” You felt the wind of the blow before the sting of the paddle. Your pussy throbbed, what the fuck was wrong with you. “in a sentence, my love.”

“I’m ready for it, sir.” You rasp. His fingers pushed passed the pillowed lips into your warmth. Then you were empty, aching for him to be back where he was. Moments passed, and then there was a cold liquid dripping down your back. Ice. You swallowed, feeling a chill rake through your body as more ice is added, and you exhale a shaky breath. A cold stream of air is blown over your clit, unexpected yet reeling you attempt to clench your legs together. It didn’t work, the manacle pulled against your skin, and you squirmed just as the old lips latched onto your clit. “Henry.”

He moaned against your clit before his tongue flicked again, and then he moved. He returned a few seconds later with an ice cube pressed to you clit sending a dull pain to your clit. You through your head back and hit the wood. He sucked, and the more he sucked, the colder your clit grew. You throbbed, and he chuckled,

Nothing was funny, the sensations running through your body had you wild. “So sensitive.” He teased and left you there panting and hoping he’d return. This was new. You caught your breath after two minutes, and your heart dropped as you began to wonder where he had gone.

“Henry.” Your voice weak and uncertain echoed, and then there were drips again down your thighs. It was hot and then cooled and hardened. Three seconds pass, and then another one hits your other thigh. You moaned. It felt good, hot, but then comforting. He splashed more, and the riding crop tapped your thighs as well, causing you to cry out. “Oh, fuck.”

“Watch that mouth.” His fingers dipped into your mouth, and you could taste the remnants of your own arousal on them before he kissed you once again. The soft paraffin wax peeled beneath his fingertips, and you relished the sensation.

Henry unshackled your legs and lifted them around his waist. Your wet clit hovered over his cock, and his eyes barred into you. “This fuck is not for you… don’t cum.” And with that, he slammed into you, the fullness itself nearly brought you to cum, but you contained it. He began his motion lifting you up and then back down to sink on his cock. Your hips moved against him because every time he thrust into you, the curved dick tapped your g-spot.

He fucked you wild, taking out all his frustrations on your plush walls, and you just hold on for your life. Your legs clamped around him, causing him to have quick strokes. And each time he pushed against your clit, the friction coaxed an orgasm from you. You bit your tongue thinking of anything to not get you there, but it didn’t work. Your body shook against him, violently as you came. Henry growled in protest as your walls sucked his dick in deeper in desire for more.

“Oh, Oh.” You said with each pump.

Henry dropped you from his waist and his cock hun in front of you, still hard and throbbing. You stared at the veined marvel as he walked over and retrieved the smallest chrome butt plug in the assortment of three. He tapped a button and lowered your arms; you felt the slight relief from it. Henry positioned you so that your ass was out for him. One finger dipped inside of you and curled. You moaned. And then mewled once the cold plug slid into your ass.

Then he slammed into you, the fullness from him and the plug had you blinded. Henry used your body for his pleasure, fucking you so hard the tingles of the orgasm radiated throughout your toes. And it continued throughout the hour, he’d fuck you only making you cum over and over until you were beyond exhausted.

 You were exhausted, arms sore, pussy throbbing, and your voice were near hoarse, but Henry had plans for you. He lowered you into the perfect tempered bath waters, and the smell of the lavender oil hit your nose. “Relax a while, pet.”

When he left, you sunk down, feeling the oil against your skin and melting into the suds that surrounded you. Something was off about him, and you could not place it. He hadn’t set one minute, and even now, you could hear him stirring about in his room. You bathed, listening to music, and then got dressed. It was now silent in the room, and you saw why. The bulk of a man lay stretched out on the bed with his head buried in the pillow. Maybe it was him that needed the real aftercare.

You didn’t bother him, he needed the sleep, and you needed hydration. Things had changed between the two of you, you’d always seen yourself with him, but now it was hard to picture a life without him. The small office next to the master bedroom ever had water stocked, and you could catch up on work. It seemed like you were behind, and no one seemed to care; you knew why, but still, you expected better from yourself. You grabbed the chilled bottled water and headed in with your priorities in line for once.  

Tapping the mouse, the screen came up, the white and black film flickered on, and it showed a room. The woman cowered in the corner, the blonde hair shrouded her face, but you could still her. It was Olivia.

“Henry,” She cried. “Let me go. Please.” She stared up at the camera, and her screams started to grow louder, so loud you could damn near swear they were in this house.

You looked up to see Henry standing with his arms folded over his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Working?”

“Looks like you’re snooping through my things.” He mumbled.

“I didn’t see anything.” You swallowed as you lie. “Sleep?” You stood up, but Henry moved towards you quickly. “Henry.”

“Stay seated.” He smiled.

But that was the last thing you wanted, you stepped from behind the desk, and he crowded you, pushing you to the wall. “what did you do to her?”

“Olivia, I am teaching her a lesson…” he said with a shaky breath. “Bad girls learn lessons.” He cleared his throat.  This did not sound like your Henry, his eyes were glazed over, and the wry smile on his lips didn’t give you butterflies just chills. “You’re starting to be bad. You understand?”

“No.” You coughed.

“Yes.” He gripped your shoulders, and your whole body shook. “And since you’re obviously not learning…” He cupped your mouth to muffle the attempted wails that flooded you. His arm wrapped around your neck. You slap at his hands, kicking your feet, but it was pointless. Everything faded to black, and you heard the last words. “I’ll teach you again.”

Henry Cavill Taglist: @oddsnendsfanfics @taytayize123 @crushed-pink-petals  @titty-teetee@sparklemichele @imgoldielikehawn @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @therealcalicali @rhys108 @shut-up-broccoli @peculiar-monstar @sincerelysinister @xxpapasfritasxx @brexrif @sheismycherry @justgrits @antoheartit @angelic-kisses13 @ikeepforgettin

@bitchwhytho @ryuzakiackerman1 @arkrimwitchout   @soapjay @szhead31 @thedarkn1ghtxx @omgkatinka @sapphirescrolls @sprinklesandsugarcubes @missdforever @superapplepie @ellaheart @greektragedyc @lovebodymindstuff @ikeepforgettin @cass-the-mess @auroussss @shikshinkwon @earl-aive @rockme-fabulous @mary-ann84 @angelic-kisses13 @wondersofdreaming @two-unbeatable-beaters

@ieshaa96 @jaykennyw @msmorganforever @buffisummerz @magdelen69 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @zejess93 @singeramg @heelsamizayn @onmykneesforloki @scuzmunkie @laricebabe @queen-sands @minton131 @sciapod @a-really-bi-girl @kittyslove  @kathhdd @tom-hollands-wife  @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @shay-rav @mereka18

@queenmalhinewahine @sweetybuzz25 @xmother-mortemx @zoogrl05 @cap-barnes @itsmydreamlifethings  @love-more122 @dearlybelovedluke @savismith @comfortingcreature @badassbaker @hell1129-blog @keiva1000 @la-meneur-louve @inthenameofrock @i-love-superhero @vivodinson @dealingwithit0214 @crowngold @violetidk @virgodmood @magic-dust @kittyatemytaco @aykanna @fcgrizi

@thewitcher-is-a-pandemic @tonictransistor @itsmydreamlifethings  @lady-out-of-time @keiva1000 @deep-in-my-thoughts13 @this-is-serenaa  @mis-lil-red @captainslasher @littlefreya​

[missingartist]

The Witcher’s Mate Chapter 23

Adva was struggling. Despite Geralt obeying her pleas to give her space, things had got no better. The brief glimpses at him at dinner or in passing during the day made the storm inside her more violent. She was tetchy and irritable to the point of wanting to hurl people across the room for very little reason. Jaskier breathing too hard, Vesemir scratching to loudly, Triss asking if she was okay for the 50th time today or Ciri placing another plate of food in front of her. By nature, she very passive person, and the temperament change was concerning, the number of times she had found herself having to leave the room to stop herself from launching an attack on some innocent companion. The others were careful around her, constantly tiptoeing around her which in her opinion aggravated her more, there constant need to try and make things better or help her when all she wanted to do was curl up somewhere soft and think. Think about what she should do, go, or say to make any of this better. But she was never left alone for long enough to think without Jaskier, Triss or Ciri popping up and spoiling her solace.

‘Come on, Adva, come play some Gwent.’ Triss smiled tenderly across at her.

The foursome of Triss, Jaskier, Ciri and Vesemir were all huddled around the end of banquet table with there cards dished out in front of them. Geralt and Yennefer nowhere to be seen. Geralt normally lurked somewhere in the shadows with longing looks while Yennefer appeared and disappeared as often as she felt like it but for the past few days neither had been present. Bile burnt a pit in her stomach as she thought about them, Geralt had grown tired of the rejection had sunk back into the waiting arms of the Mage which is the way it had to be but it still hurt so much.

Shaking her head, she stood from her place by the fire, ‘No, I am fine. I just want to relax for a bit.’

‘If I didn’t know better I would say your pinning for something.’ The older Witcher sniped as he glared down at his hand.

‘Who asked you.’ Adva snapped, sending an icy glare across at the man.

‘Adva…’ Ciri frowned as she looked across the table at her companions, concern marring their faces all apart from Vesemir who retained his usual death glare.

‘Forget it; I am going for a walk.’ Adva bite out as she made her way through the double doors and onto the great stone steps and down towards the lake.

The sky was blanketed with thick white clouds that shielded her from the last of the autumn sun. The wind was bitter but only enough to cause the slightest shiver as she made her way down the incline. The leaves had started to turn some time ago, but now only the evergreens held their vibrant greens, the rest where a stunning arrange of yellows, browns and reds, but now the leaves were shedding and the bare bark of the gnarled branches was the signal for the imminent arrival of winter and the upcoming snow.

‘Ahhhh if it isn’t the little mermaid. Off for a swim?’

The voice tinkled through the wind as smooth as velvet for a moment she thought she had imagined it, blue eyes scanned the landscape in front of her for the purple-eyed mage, but nothing. The rocky path was empty, and the thick, dense wall of trees either side bared no presence either. Narrowing her eyes, she moved further down the path and around the little bend, only for the path to be blocked by the slender mage.

‘Hello, little fish…’ The mage smiled tightly as they stared across at each other.

‘Yennefer… just don’t, whatever you are going to do just don’t. I cannot deal with you right now.’ Adva snapped as she continued down the path towards the water.

Adva was telling the truth, she couldn’t deal with Yennefer right now not without a decent amount of bloodshed. Even just looking at the mage caused an insane amount of irritation, with her perfect hair and immaculate makeup. At least on this occasion, she was wearing something remotely suitable for the changing weather, a thick cotton dress and furs.

‘And why would I do something to you? Are you scared of me little one? No, I don’t think you are. What are you truly scared off? You know a powerful mage can tell a personal creed by simply looking someone in the eye.’

Yennefer watched the woman staring straight at her. A lesser being might be arrogant and cocky or fearful at an approaching mage, especial if said mage had thrown yours through the flooring of a house. Yet, Adva eyes betrayed no fear or hatred just a stormy blue sea. Even when she took a step forward, the girl did not so much as flinch, just staring with those dark eyes. Eyes which where windows to the soul and in which she could see straight into.

‘And what do you see.’ Adva retorted, folding her arms around herself as she waited.

‘I see your fear’ Yennefer cooed softly as she inched closer, her eyes sinking into Adva’s. ‘A fear that you don’t even know, something you hid deep down.’

‘And what is that Yennefer?’

‘What the fun in telling?’ The violet eyes twinkled as she came toe to toe with the girl and stared down till only a few inches of air separated them. The scent of lilac and gooseberry mixed with apples and the scene.

‘I also see…purpose and ohhh destiny. Not something that I would have to imagine or expected….. such an unwanted surprise… Tsk tsk tsk that is a pity.’ Yennefer muddled out as here eye unblinkingly stared into her.

‘Pity? What is a pity?’ Adva croaked out slamming her eyes shut

‘I hate changing plan midway through but needs must when the devils at your doorstep…quite literally in this case.’ Yennefer smiled wide as she stepped back.

Adva scowled as she looked at Yennefer. The smile was not a satisfied or happy one, she, of course, knew the different, she had spent most of her adult life in a whore house and new the difference between a purely happy smile and that of displeasure. It was the sort of smile the girl splayed on when they had to play along with the punter for the hard-earned coin with an ugly old man.

‘Whatever tactic this is Yennefer, I am not playing. Just leave me alone.’ Adva retorted as she stormed off.

‘We can’t escape our nature or our destiny, soul mate or not. It's coming for you.’ Yennefer whispered before disappearing in a flourish of wind and dust.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The path wound around and came to stand in a little creek once you moved past the overground patches of bracken and nettles. Adva was too distracted with her thoughts to mind the thorns tugging at her clothes and the nettle stinging at her flesh as she followed the distant tinkle of water, the soft splashes of the jumping fish and busy otters. A swirl of rage billowed inside her, Yennefer set her on edge pushed her to purposely twist her mind and bring her to the brink of apprehension.

‘Arghhhh’ Adva pushed out a blast of water from the shallow and sent it shooting across the vast lake. Adva watched as the willow gave a creaking groan before it collapsed into the water, and the world went silent even the fish seemed to rush for the safety of the depth. A shuddering breath escaped her lips as she watched the leaves wave across the on the surface of the water, the light-catching them making them glisten in the sun.

A snap and a stumble broke through the silence. Whirling around her eyes darted around the dense wall of wood, even without the greenery, there was little room to see the past cover.

‘Who is there? Yennefer?...Geralt? Jaskier? Who is there?’ Adva called out but was only met by an eerily silence. ‘I mean it who is there….this isn’t funny.’ Adva shouted into the bush arms raised palms outward as a swirl of water slashed around in front of her.

Directly in front of her, another footfall fell and with the branched began to rattle and shake. And slowly the figure emerged from the bush till a slightly dishevelled Earl Crispin stood in front of her and slightly out of breath.

‘Ahhhh Adva….it a really a jungle out there. That purpled eyes woman told me where you were’ the Earl smiled. ‘I do hope you're not going to hit me with that thing, are you?’ the man's dark eyes lingered over the water churning mid-air.

‘No no of course not…’ Adva breathless mumbled and let her arms fall to her side ‘what are you doing here?’

‘Triss came to see me…to help with your situation. I knew you were a beauty but a Witcher’s Mate No wonder he cold-cocked me.’ He smiled as he stepped into the clearing dragging a heavy-looking bag.

Adva groaning lightly as her memory burnt with that night, the memories she wanted to forget but longed to have again. ‘Geralt…is a little overprotective. Sorry, he hit you.’ She gave him a sad smile.

‘Perfectly fine. Not your fault…. I understand thou …he isn’t about is he.’ Nervous eyes flickered around the glade.

‘Don’t worry, you are safe…he is back at the castle, I think. You didn’t answer the question. What are you doing here?’

‘This, I believe, is something that you have been looking for.’ The man smiled and proffered a shimmering scroll of parchment. ‘I brought it at an auction about ten years ago; it had been sitting at the bottom of some fishermen hunt. The seller thought it might be some sort of script of the whale, but to my trained eye, I think it more likely fertility or mating script. The whale image is often or not a mark of such a thing.’ Crispin beamed as he moved behind her peaking at the scroll over the woman’s shoulder.

Adva shakily grasped the scroll in her trembling hands and unravelled the scroll, a hush gasp fulling from her lips, and her eyes flowed over the scripted, greedily taking in every letter of every word. The images where graphic and detailed showing every step and every position of the bonding ceremony. Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach her eyes lingered over the mermaid figure pursed over the man's form in the throes of ecstasy.

‘Oh my….It is…Crispin it is…. Do you know what this means I can…’ A deep frown formed at the corners of her mouth as the froze in mid-speech. A tightness across her throat and the air stuck in her chest.

The scrolls dropped from her hand as the object around her tightened to the point her toe tips where the only just skimming the ground. The cord around her neck stung as it bite into the sensitive skin, causing her silent scream to erupt from her mouth.

‘Do you really think you would get away from me that easy, you halfling monstrosity? The soft snarl of Crispin's mouth as his hot breath glanced over her ear.

‘I…What….Crispin what are you doing?’ the words barely formed in a series of gasped out chokes.

‘I have been looking for you for the last twenty years. I thought you would be so much more. But its pathetic really all the hope for nothing. Your not even a proper mermaid. Can’t even defend yourself.’ Crispin scowled tightening his hold.

Adva growled lightly as her finger scratched at the wire-like cord around her neck while her other hand reached outward toward the water flexing and waining as the water struggled up from the surface of the lake.

‘Your powers are weak. I can snuff them out like I would yearlings.’ Crisping screamed, and he tightened his grip of the bind around her neck, and helplessly she watched as the water slammed back into the lake as it became impossible still, like a sheet of glass.

The hold was too much and too strong no matter how she moved; his hold remained unwavering. The material around her neck was slimy and hot burning. The black spot began to appear on her eyes as she was thrust towards unconsciousness.

‘Look what we have here.’ Yennefer purr pulled Adva from the edge of oblivion.

‘Yenne… help.’ the words were raw, and the taste of metallic copper bubbled up in her throat.

‘Help? Her? Who do you think has been helping me. Once you are out of the way, she gets her witcher, and I get the bloodline clean from scum like you.’ He spat, as hot tears run down her purple face.

‘See that not how it is going to go down.’ Yennefer purred as she moved to stand in front of the struggling couple.

‘What? We have a deal.’

Adva felt the cord losen around her neck just ever so slight, and the small trickle of air escaped into her burning lungs, and the impending darkness seemed to fade in the distance.

‘Do you think I am stupid? A man who makes a blood deal is never to be trusted.’ Yennefer sneered.

‘What are you talking about the mage. My deal is binding.’

‘True you give me Geralt and a baby, but Geralt is no use without her. You think me fool? As soon as his pathetic mate dies, he will wither away before my eyes till he is nothing but a husk.’

Adva felt Crispin's hands stain against the rope and body tensed behind her.

‘You must have known that soulmate cannot be parted. So what was it make me watch him die while handing me a baby? Humph. But it has been interesting to see how your mind works. You call her a weak yearling…yet you’re the one strangling with the roots of Snarling Inferno. Which cause dehydration and paralysis, not the signs of a strong mermaid. But a very interesting method of subduing them.’ Yennefer sneered. ‘See…What was it, Crispin? You are the weak one, having to use a weed to subdue your prey, and I have not lived several lifetimes by aligning myself with the weak side. So let her go, or you will be very sorry.’ Yennefer’s eyes growled a metallic purple.

‘Never’

‘It's your choice. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ The mages smiled as she rose her hands and send out a shock wave of air, forcing them violently back.

Adva clawed at her neck the weed continue to contract her air was. Despite Crispin no longer choking her the bind her, the air refused to refill her desperate lungs. She had landed inches away from the water's edge while mere meters away blasts of purple and white erupted from the hands of Crispin and Yennefer.

‘Yennefer….’

‘Hang on little dolphin.’ The mage grunted as she pushed a swirl of fire towards the flaying man.

Adva nails gouged and ripped at the burnt skin as the weed began to cook her already stinging flesh, blood oozed from every wound and thread by a thread the woody rope, while in front of her the two men duelled in a bluster of light. Gasping tightly, the air slowly began to return as a thread by a thread of the woody root broke. Yet, burning remained, and sweat began to drip down her body, and a violent tremor racked over her body.

‘For the Kingdom of Navacis and our true leader Zaire.’ Crispin roared as he appeared from nowhere, dagger held aloft. But a roaring spark shot out from his chest, causing the man to look down as the sparks began to ignite in small little explosions. Adva air deprived brain could not follow the actions as the towering hate-filled man ignited in a roaring blaze as he shrieked in pain.

Cooly, Yennefer picked up the dropped dagger and gently began to cut through the tough weed that still clung to her neck.

‘You tried….to kill…me’ Adva wheezed out as the air fully returned to her lucks.

‘Oh, grow up. If I truly wanted you dead, you would be dead. AS much as I despise you…I think you can help me. You give a little help; you get a little help. Me with my problem…you with Geralt…’ Yennefer silky tones wafted through the air.

Adva was very vaguely aware of the mage's eyes staring down into hers. Before the familiar feel of the knife delicately cutting away at the last remains of the roots that encircled her neck. Adva felt…she felt wild  Powerful. It was hard to breathe; she still felt like she was being choked, her lung burnt. And a desire for water consumed her.

‘Hold still!... And breath….Breath Adva!’

A pained roared filled the air with one mightly tug the last of the Snapping Inferno’s roots where pulled from her neck. And a taloned hand lashed out against the mage. Yennefer missed the blow by a hair's breadth, and she sprawled backwards in across the dirt as she watched wide-eyed as black sword-like claws extended from Adva figure tips. The girl whimpered and panted, her whole body withering in some unforeseen pain.

‘I can….no brea….’ Adva croaked.

‘Adva the weed is gone. Stop..... now your gonna hurt yourself.’ Yennefer blicked worriedly trying and failing and holding the failing girl still.

Yennefer’s body stifled a gasp for air as the girl lookup. No longer were the eyes of bright pool blue but a sea of black. A terrible piercing shriek vibrated against the shore as a wave of energy blasted out at Yennefer, sending her hurtling into the rocks that lined the shore.

 Blood poor from her as she crawling forward, plunged her self into the lake. Water rolled over her as bubbles shot across her skin as she plunges into the water. A blue glow surrounds her, and the water shone brightly.  In the depth of the water, the burn was consuming; a heat ripped across Adva’s ribs and down her legs. Clawing at her body, the black claws ripped and pulled at the confining clothes as she sunk deeper in the depths.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Purple eyes blinked themselves awake as she pair of rough hands violently shook her, and for the first time in her entire existence, she was glad to come face to face with Vesemir.

‘She is alive.’ His gruff voice grated against her ringing head that pounded violently.

‘Oh, goody we can all breath a sigh of relief.’ Jaskier snarked as he inched closer to the younger Witcher who crouched eyes franticly danced around the area.

‘Yennefer…what have you don?’ Ciri snapped softly as she picked up the remains of the Snarling Inferno.

‘Done? Done? I saved that little fish life. If It wasn’t for me that assassin would have strangled the life out of her? You should be thankful I set a trap for that…Crispin.’Yennefer puffed out in pains as Vesemire yanked her up.

‘You used her as bate?’ Geralt roared appearing out from the clearing bearing down at her.

‘Only to see what we were up against.’ Yennefer pouted timidly at the raging Witcher all too aware of the glinting silver sword in his hand.

‘Where is she’ Geralt voice was low and dangerous.

‘Who do you think did this damage….she was alive when I passed out. Snarling and whipping like some demented creature.’ Yennefer spat as she half-collapsed herself on the remains of the bolder that once sat on the bank of the lake

‘That is her blood soaking into the floor. YOU MURDEROUS…!’ Geralt roared, raising his sword arm above his head to bring down his glinted weapon against the mage.

Jaskier flinched at sight before him. Despite his hatred for Yennefer, the wrath of Geralt was not something he would wish upon his worst enemy. He would kill her for this. Jaskier was sure of this. As soon as he hurried that unholy shriek, and glowing light, he knew it, he knew Yennefer had committed what they had all been waiting for all be it with the aid of another party. The bard just didn’t see it being Crispin. Jaskier eyes settled on a large rusty coloured stain sunk into the brown dirt; it was such an amount that no man or women mermaid or not would survive that. The body carried off by Crispin if he had survived the attack or dragged away by downers. Tears began to build up in his eyes as he turned away from the blood-stained bank towards the rippling water. Adva was gone, destroyed, nothing left but scraps of clothing torn from her body and the fading blood. A flicker of red caught the minstrels attention.

Terror surged within the dark as the flicker of red disappeared below the water, and a shadow glided toward the shallows. ‘ Uh, Geralt….Geralt!’

Geralt let go of the mage's throat as he turned to the bard, his eyes danced across the waters lines and at the shadow drifting toward him. The only thing the keen witchers eyes could make out was the crimson red that shimmered underneath the water as it drew closer. Geralt breath hitched in his throat as gliding out of through the water, Adva bobbed against the surface serenely, hair sticking against her wet skin, the ends dancing in the water as she trod the murky water. The briefest glimmer of a brilliantly red tail that swished benefit, keeping her afloat.

‘Adva? Oh my god….she had a tail, she has a tail.’ Jaskier’s shill cry carried across the lake.

‘Well, I think we can safely say she is most defiantly a mermaid.’ Vesemir sighed as he eyed his golden-eyed protégé wading thought the water before diving head further into the water as his powerful arms cut through the water, stopping just in front of her, so close he could feel the force of her tail moving back and forth.

‘Adva…it me Geralt.’ Geralt soothed softly as he reached out and ever so gentle traced the side of her face.

Her skin looked almost white, like glowing silver, her eyes a vivid metallic blue, she looked the same but different, her face was almost ethereal, features sharper, eyes larger, hair a meadow green. So different but so familiar. Tilting her head, she pressed her face into his warm hand, purring softly.

Geralt heart thudded violently in his chest as he watched raptured as his mate who bobbed against the surface of the water on a beautiful tail. It had been the first time she had allowed him to touch her since that night, that amazing night. The warmth from her skin was enough to send him into a heady frenzy; Geralt smiled as the tail wrapped around his body, pulling him closer. His whole body sung in relief, that itch that made him raw was gone, but that feverish need was bad, that need to bond and feel her skin against his to become one. Cooing down, he felt her tail swish out the water spraying him with a fine mist of water

‘Geralt’

Adva’s snapped open, the metallic blue eyes gone, replaced with pure black pupils.

‘No one move!’ Vesemir demanded.

‘Seriously she has just got a lethal tale.’ Yennefer cried, leaping into the shallow water.

‘Don’t…’ Vesemir warned, but it was too late.

Immediately the tale shift from its magnificent ruby tale shifted to a deathly black, and thin barbs like teeth descend down from her mouth with a sickening slice through the air as she glowered across at the onlookers before, to the horror of the group, Adva lurched forward dropped down into the water, pulling the Witcher under with her.

I hope you are all safe and well I am so sorry! I really wanted to update but it has been non-stop at work and doesn't look like it will get any better There will be smut in the next chapter. Thank you, everyone, who left a review and keeps leaving support, I really appreciate it, it has really pushed me to keep writing. Please let me know what you think.

@threepupsinapuddle @broco8 @introvertedmouse @luxyash @vikingsbifrost @pastelblogsposts @wastingmypotential @whitespring21 @ayamenimthiriel @wonderlandfandomkingdom @shesthelastjedi @fandom-lover-4 @sageandberries-png  @just-a-sad-donut @alicia-d-o @dreamerwithapen1 @evangeline73aster

[bonesofapoet]

Blood of the Holy

[matt murdock x you]

author’s note: hey hi hello, if some of you recognize this format + writing style but not the blog, i used to share my work on my main @ladyofstardvst​ and caved on making a writing blog. yall dont need to sift through my non-writing shit just to find my work. i’ve never written for this nerd before but here we are with a study of a sort! be kind! i take requests now! tw for blood, implied violence, swearing

word count: 1894

ao3: here

Most people couldn’t stand the neon in the dark.

It was garishly bright, it was harsh, it was annoying at best. The sign would blink and linger behind your eyelids, stain the shadows in the dark like sunspots, make an impression that washed out the relaxing calm, the blanket of the night.

It keeps most people awake, Matt Murdock explained on that very first night. It doesn’t bother me, obviously. Take the bed. It’s not as noticeable in the bedroom.

But it didn’t bother you either. The contrast caught your eye on the second night; the colors would paint the monochromatic neutral tones of the apartment, how they would mix and melt into the chipped brick walls, the trim, the beams of the ceiling. How if you were in the right place – the right cushion on the couch, far enough back into the kitchen – it looked like a painting come alive right before your eyes. Something that would go on to live in a local indie gallery, something inspired by vaporwave, or whatever they were calling neon nostalgia these days.

Still. Silent. Chiaroscuro. Art in the wild.

It was like clockwork, the blinking. The colors coming and going at the first peek of evening shadow, only to blink right off at the first knock of the sun’s rays on the horizon.

After the third, fourth, tenth, twentieth nights it had become a comfort of sorts, namely for the days Matt Murdock wasn’t there to press you into the wall and kiss you senseless, or weave each other stories under the moonlight with a nest of blankets and concrete beneath you. When he wasn’t there to ghost his fingertips over your skin as you drifted off to sleep, so painfully content that you always wondered if this beautiful man with a devastating secret would be the end of you.

You never knew, but he often asked himself the same thing.

Then there were days that damned neon was the only constant about Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

Moments of lovesick peace would only last so long.

Your skin would crawl on the nights sleep wouldn’t come. Mug of tea, coffee, something stronger cradled in your hands while your mind wandered, your feet wandered, your eyes drifted around this space of his, this little hideaway of yours. You would always hear him before you saw him, adrenaline spiked and oh so weary. Some nights he was covered in so much blood you didn’t know where it ended and his own crimson suit began.

“You’re still awake,” he would say, scowl tugging his mouth down, always sounding surprised. As if it was unusual, for you to be restless on the nights he donned devil horns to go hunting.

And you’re still alive, would be your reply.

He would stay close until dawn. You would gravitate toward him just the same, moths to flame, flowers to the sun. Conversations were hazy and hushed in the early morning-late night blur. They walked that fine fragile line between this is not okay, Matt, and you know you can’t shove me away as easily as everyone else, you stubborn ass.

Unspoken vs spoken. Horror vs love.

Clockwork, nonetheless.

Until one day, the clock shattered.

Matt Murdock doesn’t come home.

Then it’s days. Weeks slipped into months. Months slipped into a blend of minutes, moments, denial casually catching hold within as you found yourself still in his apartment – your little hideaway - watching the steady blink blink blink of the neon sign through the dirty, frosted window panes of the kitchen. Then the living room, then the kitchen counter. Cold tea, day old bitter coffee, something stronger untouched and unloved in the mug that hung loosely in your hands.

Those feelings of heartache and unease and an angry I fucking told you so lingered at the back of your mind, the tip of your tongue. The last time you saw him had been reenacted so many times, it began to feel like a dream. A nightmare. The flesh made into ghosts. Phantom lips brushed yours in such a gentle, such an urgent way that your pulse began to spike at the memory. The loss. The longing.

You thought about how you had gotten here, of all places, here – this apartment, this man’s life, both of you entwined with secrets and lies that could end both of you forever-

Everything was safer in the dark. What Matt Murdock hadn’t known – well. That wasn’t how he had met his end, after all.

It was almost too much to think about, on some occasions.

Until one day, when the clock began to tick once more.

You heard him before you saw him, the familiar cadence of his footsteps descended from above. The quiet slide of the roof access door snicked open and closed in the unholy hours of the night, the unholy hours of the morning.

The silence was new, however, and your eyes drifted up to see a shadow at the top of the staircase, frozen and tense and so very familiar.

“You’re still awake,” he said, and the tears were suddenly there; the ones that could never come, the ones that never seemed to leave. They were present, and the noise that left your throat wasn’t coherent, wasn’t normal, but a strangled laugh escaped your lips anyway.

“You’re still alive,” you replied. If not for the routine, your answer wouldn’t have been so intelligible. “You’re alive.” came the raspy whisper.

His silhouette nodded, began to limp down the stairs into the apartment proper. Began to finish his long journey back to you, back to everything, really. The mug in your hands was no more – placed safely, if not hastily – on the table, and you met him halfway.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet and so very hesitant as he clawed off the scarf covering his eyes. “I’m alive.”

There’s the hint of a smile that catches in the neon blink, one that you dreamt of sometimes, on the long nights. Shared breaths, lovesick grins, stray tears being gently brushed away followed in a fog, in a rush, in slow motion that threatened to dismantle so many things about his time away.

And then -

“Where the fuck have you been?”

He’s holding your waist, fingertips splayed, grip firm if only to convince himself that finally – finally, he’s here, you’re here, you're together. Your own hands slid to his shoulders, but you stepped back to keep him a few inches away.

Your gaze was hot and strong and analytical – Matt could feel your eyes as they saw bruised skin, torn clothes, battered, bloody knuckles. He’s been in worse shape, both you and he knew that, but he also knew he was no drawing, no painting, nothing close to a work of art worthy of a museum either. There were bloody, violent masterpieces under guard at the Louvre more worthy than he.

Had he asked you, you would have disagreed.

He can’t see the sorrow drowning the color of your eyes or the way softness carved a home on your expression, carefully melting away the tension, the anger, the fear. He can’t see you, but he does and even after all this time he still knew how to read the air around your mood shifts and the lilt of your voice. Still knew that after all he’s put you through – he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, Atlas freed at last.

He may have lost touch with many things, many people, but not once had he ever lost you.

“I’m sorry,” he began, emotion becoming thicker in his voice with every breath, every word that tumbled past his lips. It had always unsettled him, how you could unearth what he tried to hide, tried to bury.

Moths to flame, flowers to the sun.

He condensed the happenings since the building collapse after his stint with the Defenders, his words spilling out quick and quiet, rushed and worried.

But if he hadn’t finished what he started, what was he doing here? What was he doing with you? Why now?

“Let me – let me get this straight. Were you going to let us think you died, until – when? You got your shit together? Killed Fisk?” his fingers tightened where they held you, unseeing eyes wandered anywhere and everywhere except right in front of him, right on you. You knew that look. Your voice softened. “Or were you just going to disappear? Like this meant nothing – like this means nothing? And as grateful as I am that you are – why are you here, Matt?”

He shook his head, ignored the cracks that broke open his heart like dropped glass. Your name spilled from his lips like a holy hymn that golden haloed angels could never hope to sing. No one could recreate the most divine sound in all of creation. Matt Murdock would always swear you were a goddess incarnate, no matter how sinfully blasphemous it was. “You mean everything.” he pulled you into him, moved so his face was close to yours.

“It’s not that simple,” he said after, and you deflated in an instant. The amount of times a variation of this conversation had been voiced between you – you would never know. It was like a renegade wildfire: possible to lessen, impossible to tame.

It was as quick as the changing of the seasons, how he took on the urgency you’ve only witnessed a handful of times - when he allowed you in the presence of Daredevil himself. You remembered what he asked of you lifetimes ago, between hushed words and bloody gauze, hands slick with red and a needle poised between your fingertips. How if danger ever came to your door, you would listen and you would trust, and you would let him do whatever it took to keep you safe.

To keep you both safe, you tried to correct. He would nod, and you would ignore that he never agreed to such a thing.

“We need to go,” was all he said, but you knew. You remembered.

The strongest jolt of fear slammed into you, bleeding a black and white, us and them mentality. It threatened to smother the blinking neon, the bright washes of blue and white felt muted, felt so very distant when you realized that someone was coming here, someone figured it out, figured it all out.

Oh.

That wasn’t the answer you hoped for.

Us vs them.

“So it’s finally happening.”

Matt’s hands fell away from you, one slid to twine your hands together and squeezed. He was solid, he was grounding. You looked into his eyes. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he took his free hand, lifted it to brush your cheek with tattered knuckles, bruises blossomed like night blooming flowers. He left a trail of soft burning flames when he traced a path down to your jaw where he stopped and cupped your face ever so gently. “That’s the one promise I knew I’d never break.”

Fear melted away when you closed the distance to kiss him, felt that heavy soul twine with yours; all was suddenly right with the world for the first time in a long time, even if the anguish of this city was about to come crashing down on your shoulders all over again. It tore at your heart, this kiss, because it was so very reminiscent of the first time he ever kissed you. Bright eyes, flushed faces, the thrill of something new ignited all around you. The future painted with vivid neon instead of muted pastels. It felt bittersweet, and you knew down in the marrow of your bones that this could very well be the last thing you would ever share with Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips. “I trust you.”

Once those words were in the open, there was no going back.

Your secret could wait.